I need, more than anything in the world, to get away. To start over new, to figure shit out. I wish I could just fly. Just fly away, to Paris, London, Italy, Australia, somewhere... anywhere. This life is not how I wanted to live my life. This is not how I planned things to happen. I know, I know, life doesn't go how you plan it, but it does to some degree, right? My life didn't, to any degree. Here I am, eighteen, a high school drop out, loner loser that has nothing to live for. I have more disorders than you could ever imagine, and most mornings I don't even want to get out of bed. What went wrong? I was such a carefree person at one time, but now? Now I over analyze everything, over think constantly, and my anxiety gets the best of me. I really don't understand how life can do a complete one eighty... ten times in three years. I need to start over fresh, I need to get out of here.

How can I even justify being jealous right now? We don't have anything anymore. We are nothing but friends. So why can't I help from being outrageously suspicious? I don't know. I really don't. I want to scream at you right now. I want to scream right in your face. I was to yell as loud as I can, "YOU STUPID IDIOT, WHY DID YOU EVER GET INVOLVED WITH A GIRL LIKE ME?" I know I'm not the girl anyone wants, and you tried to make me feel like someone wanted me. But in the end, you broke my heart. Like everyone before you, and everyone after you, you all leave. I can't stand the loneliness anymore. I can't stand the thought of you going out and moving on from me. I'm sorry, but I can't move on right now. I just can't. It hurts me, so terribly, to think about you being with someone else. I'm sorry. I'm sorry for not being the girl you wanted.

Spring is here!
Well, as of yesterday. Also, yesterday was my Uncle's wedding day! He married the most wonderful woman in the world, and I'm so happy I can call her my Aunt now! I'm currently eating tater tots and drinking root beer, ohhh how I love tots and root beer! I guess this is just a little update on how my life is going. Well... let's just say I could be better. Things aren't horrible, but pretty close. I did get this adorable coat from Target though! I love Target, especially their clearance! Well I'm off to do some packing, my mom is moving and I have to get the rest of my stuff out of my old room. BLEH!

Nothing seems like it's worth it anymore. It all seems fake, it all seems unreal. I don't understand how my mentality can go back and forth between loving life and wanting to cease it's existence. I wish I could explain to everyone how heavy my eyelids are, how the hairs stand up on the back of my neck, and how my goosebumps are exposed. It isn't really that difficult to explain. I guess I'm just tired. Tired of getting the short end of the stick, all the time. Tired of waiting around for change, when change never comes. People tell me to let the thoughts go and it'll all come to me, but I don't know if I believe that. I just want to be happy... plain and simple.

I don't really know what to do right now. I'm conflicted, half of me says, "Do it, Alexa, do it now. What the hell are you waiting for?" But then the other half of me says, "What are you thinking? It's been TEN FUCKING MONTHS. You really want to waste that on this?" It would be so easy. It would so god damn easy. It would be easy to do, but impossible to undo. I would have to build up my months again. I'm so close to one year. SO close. But who cares, right? I mean, who in this world actually gives a shit? I don't think one fucking person would notice if I did. I really don't. The one person who actually did care, well, he lost his right to care the moment he broke up with me. Now, people, including him, pretend to care. They act like they care, until the going gets tough. Then it's out the door, because I'm so difficult to care for. Well fuck all of you. If I do end up doing this tonight, I hope you all choke on your "caring" words.

Well, I decided to tell all seven of you followers about myself. I chose the cat picture because it makes me smile. Awkward things make me smile, probably because I'm awkward. My name is Alexa, I'm 18 (and a half!) years old. I'm not sure, at all, what my purpose on this planet might be, but I'm working on figuring that out. I'm tall, about five foot nine, and I have blue eyes. My hair is brown, my skin is freckled, and I have a lot of scars, on both my skin and my soul. I like to make people laugh, and I like people who make me laugh. Like I said, I'm very awkward. No one quite understands me, though I sort of like it that way. Makes me mysterious.. I guess.. o__O I'm sad about 94% of the time, but that other 6% is outrageous. I'm still trying to figure out what makes me sad, and how I can be down that much of the time. I love to have fun, though I'm really not sure what makes me have a good time. I also love thrifting, it's one of my favorite things to do. Photography is my passion, you can pretty much always catch me with a camera in my hands. I love to write, it's my second passion. I have written a book, and am working on a second one. I guess you could call me a wallflower, I don't have many friends and I don't know how to make new ones. This is me. I am Human.

I don't want to be trapped anymore. You set me free, free to be who I really am. Do you not understand how much you helped me? How much pain you released from my mind? Apparently not. I can talk to you about anything and everything, and not feel judged. I told you one of my deepest secrets the first night we hung out, and you came back. You didn't run, so why run now? Why run so fucking far away from me, that you are making your chances with me slim down? If you were to ask me to be yours, again, I would in a heartbeat. That shows you how much I care about you. How much I want to be with you. I just don't understand you. How could you run away from something that in the end could be so wonderful? Hell, who knows. We could have crashed and burned, but at least we gave it a try. I don't want to have to tell people, "I'm not over him. I never will be, because your first love stays in your heart. Forever."

Always.

No picture this time around. I was browsing Tumblr once again, and I can't get over this one girl's page. Honestly, posting pictures of Self Injury, the "facts" of certain disorders (sorry but the fact list on Wikipedia isn't exactly the one I'd go off of.) Also posting about your "recent overdose" and basically bragging about it, isn't what I consider cool. You may have your little followers that see you as a role model to look up to because you "openly talk about your problems," but I don't see it that way and there's a hell of a lot of other people that don't either. I'm not trying to attack this girl, I'm really not, I just don't see a point in what she's doing. In case you don't know, every single thing that you post on the internet will be there forever. So when you are 30 and looking for a nice job, and your future employers are looking through the internet, Googling your name and such, all that shit you post on your Tumblr will come up. And believe me, you will not get the job. Employers DO NOT want someone that has been to psych wards, claiming they have all of these problems, or anything like that. I have been through my fair share of hell in my 18 years on Earth. But not once do I talk about my past as something that I'm proud of. I'm sorry, but really? Are you honestly going to sit there and post pictures of blood running down your arm? If you have a problem, GET HELP. The internet is NOT going to help you, just cause more and more problems. (I know that one for a fact.) So sweetie, I know a lot more people that would see you as a role model and would be proud of you for getting off your computer and getting help. I don't just mean meds and a therapist. You will get no where if you don't want the help. That one, I also know for a fact.

I think that it's time that I finally say goodbye. That I pick up the pieces of my heart and say farewell. This isn't what I wanted to happen, it's really not, but like a friend told me, "Good things fall apart so better things can fall into place." (or something along those lines.) It's not like you are leaving my life forever, we are still friends, but I'm no longer going to pine after you like I have been for the last two weeks. You don't really understand how difficult this all is to write out. To get it out of my head feels like a giant weight lifted off my mind. I can't help but think what if we had tried. What if we both faced our fears and really put effort into making our relationship work. I will always wonder.

We could have worked things out.

Honestly, I thought I had found him. I thought,
"The sad days are gone, there's no need to cry anymore."
That was, until you made me cry.

I'm losing my inspiration, because I lost you. I don't know what to say or think anymore, other than, "I miss you, I want you, I care about you." I don't understand how that isn't good enough for you. Or maybe, perhaps, it's too much. I've already said that I think we moved too fast the first time around. So let's say we do try this again. We wouldn't see each other as much, we wouldn't do as much together, and we would just talk things out, instead of seeing where they go and crashing and burning in the end. I miss you, so terribly, and I honestly just want to try this one more time. Second chances can be a good thing, right? The truth is, I can't wait around for you to figure things out. As much as I want to, I just can't. It hurts too much.

I was browsing Tumblr a while back and when I saw this picture I thought, "If only.. If only my skin was that fresh." I don't talk about this to people that don't know me that well. When people see my arms and ask what happened, I simply say, "Oh that? It's a long story." They can tell by the look on my face that I come from a troubled past, and that I could easily say, "Oh that? Yeah I used to self injure." But I don't. I don't believe it's something you should flaunt. I have scars on my arms, thighs, ankles and calves. I have come to terms with the fact that I USED to self injure. I am 10 months clean and I plan to keep it going. Now, as I was browsing Tumblr, I found this girl's blog who had pictures of bloody, self inflicted wounds. She also made it very clear that she had overdosed on pills. Listen. I have my issues. I have been to two psych hospitals. I'm not on here everyday going, "You should feel sorry for me because I hurt myself, I overdosed, I've been to hospitals," or anything else like that. It is not something that you should talk about with everyone in the fucking world, let alone on your public blog. I know the shit talkers and everyone who doesn't agree with what I have done to my skin is saying. I've heard it a million times in the past. Call me crazy if you want to, but at least I'm not on here posting pictures of a razor sliding across my arm.

I wish you would say, when I fuck up, that it’s okay.

You texted me the night we had our biggest fight, and said "and I am there for you. I promise you I am there for you." I hope that never changes. I really, really hope that never changes. You mean the world to me, and everything that has happened since January has changed me for the better. You have changed me for the better. Honestly, I can't believe that this is over. I can't believe that you left. But in a way, you didn't leave at all. You are still in my life, you are still my friend. We all know how much I miss you as my boyfriend, but I'm willing to sacrifice that as long as you are still in my life. As long as you are still there for me.

I'm wondering if this broken heart will ever mend. Even with the other boys that have stepped on it, it has never hurt this bad. I have been trying to figure out just why it hurts so badly, and I think I've figured it out. I do not have the courage to type those words on here, but I'm guessing you all know what I would say anyway. Do you remember, back when we first started dating, I asked you to promise me something? You said, "I'll do my best, what is it?" I said, "Just promise that you'll stay." And you promised me that. Why would you break that promise? I'm sick of crying. I'm sick of over thinking. I'm sick of missing you. I'm sick of pretending that this isn't hurting as much as it is. I need to know something. If and when you get over your fears, do we stand a chance to try this again? Or will your crush on me fade? Perhaps it already has.

It's painfully easy to see now that you were never completely invested in our relationship. You took my heart, knowing damn well what would happen in the end. You never once cared that you were going to break my heart, did you? You say you want to be friends, and I believe you when you say that, but did you ever once think about what that would do to me? I want you to stay in my life, but when I think about the heartache that will ensue once we are "just friends," I know it will not be easy. I care about you and I miss you, but I just want you to be happy. If us not being together makes you happy, then I'll just have to deal with that.

This doesn't make much sense to me. It really, really doesn't. I know what we had wasn't perfect, but I at least thought that it was working. I thought that we were working. I care about you so fucking much, and when you sat with me last night and told me that this was over because you are scared of commitment, I lost it. I don't want to believe this. I don't want to believe that I have lost you. You were everything to me, and that's more than likely my problem. I always, always, always get invested too fast. You never did get invested. That's what confuses me so much. The fact that you were never fully there in our relationship, yet we still went farther than I have ever let myself go before. You say you want to be friends, you say you still care about me. You wouldn't have broken my heart if you cared about me. I can maybe, possibly deal with being friends, but it's going to take a lot of time and effort on both our parts. I just want things to go back to the way they were three weeks ago, because baby, without you things go hazy.

I want you to trace your fingers along my face. I want you to kiss me on my stomach. I want nothing more than to be your number one priority for an hour. No text messages, no phone calls, no Facebook, no blogging. Just you, me, a bed and our lips. You know I would go to the ends of the Earth for you, now I just want to know what you would do for me. Maybe I am invested in this more than you are, maybe I don't know what to do anymore. This is the most serious relationship that I have ever had. Maybe it scares me that I trust you more than I've ever trusted anyone. Maybe it scares me that I let you get inside my head. Maybe, more than anything, it scares me that...

I will never turn my back on you. I sincerely hope that you know this, and know that I mean it with every drop of blood in my body. You mean the world to me, and I know that you will always have a special place in my heart. You are my boyfriend, and my best friend. I have so much I'd like to say to you, but I feel like typing it out just wouldn't do it justice. I give my heart, I give you my hope. The hope that this won't end, the hope that you will always be there, like I will always be there for you.

There's something about you, you know that, right? It makes me crave you. Is that creepy? I hope not. You are addictive, you are wonderful, you are mine. I love that I can call you mine. That in itself is wonderful. I feel like something big is going to happen, though I don't know what. I don't know if it's good, or if it's bad, but I just feel like it's going to happen. Maybe it won't though, my intuition has been wrong in the past.

I may not be perfect, I may not say the right things at the
right times, and I may cry just a bit too much.
But I'm trying.
Really, I am.