i want to tell him everything.
but somehow i always lose my nerve.
the thoughts don't correspond to words, and i am never able to pull the strings of sentences from my mouth into the air between us.
but i can write it down.

the letters constantly pulse through my fingertips as the ink touches paper.

foolproof way to get it all out.

today was the best in a while.
i'm starting to rock this whole school thing.
grades are looking up, so are other things.
we took a field trip to the tuck in spanish.
'twould have been perfectly lovely, if not for a minor incident.

no work tonight.
nothing happening tomorrow.
disney with the team this weekend (HOLY SHIT AM I EXCITED)

i began A Million Little Pieces this week.
i feel unholy and self righteous reading it.
i feel like it's feeding my opinions and i dont want that.
but i need to know how the story ends.
i can't get a hundred pages in and change my mind, not with this story.
this is important.
and i can't drop it, no matter how obnoxious it makes me look to read it.
i don't care how i look.
and i dont care what assumptions you make by me reading the story of a drug addict's stint in rehab.
i just want to know how it ends.

dylan ditched me on the phone a few days ago.
it felt normal.
i hate this.

today is so happy.
so fucking happy.

but i could use a nap.

i wish i didn't miss them so much.
i wish i could give us a label.
figure out what it is that we are now.
i wish we had something.
i wish i hated them.
it's a shame that i dont.