I have so much to say to you. I want to tell you I think I like you, although I haven't talked to you yet. That I might seem angry sometimes, but that's just me being insecure. I don't like when people are looking at me, 'cause I don't find myself beautiful. I want to tell you that I don't see what you're seeing in me. If I'm nice, can you tell me? I want to tell you that I'm just as scared as you seem to be. Writing that "hi" seems to be the hardest thing I will ever do. Your friends might be teasing you. Well, do you feel better if I tell you my friends teases me? That I've spend hours just talking about you. Have you've done the same thing? I hope so. Because today I will say hi to you. Or tomorrow.
Today was the winter-breaking up. The last one with the hot seniors. I stared at them the whole time.
I don't want to grow up. It seems like that thing everyone is talking about, but when you do it, you want to go back. Growing up. The whole life has been "what do you want to be when you grow up?" never "do you want to grow up?". A pause-button would be nice. Or knowing everything will be fine.
I don't want to grow up. It seems like that thing everyone is talking about, but when you do it, you want to go back. Growing up. The whole life has been "what do you want to be when you grow up?" never "do you want to grow up?". A pause-button would be nice. Or knowing everything will be fine.
It was a little bit of snow at the ground today. And it was icecold, the wind blowing so hard.
I wonder why I feel so empty inside. Can it be so simple, it is beacause of the boy?
