To stumble. To fall. To move backwards.
--Time and time again I’ve fallen. Wounded by the boundaries that I set myself up against. I’m fifteen. Not many years to know just what this life can bring. I do know the corruption that this world has the potential of. I know what it’s like to wake up wishing I was six feet under, constantly scooting myself toward the edge. Regardless of the things in my past that I’ve done, I one day will feel beautiful. Love is supposed to be beautiful, or is it the components that make it up, make it beautiful? I’m a blank book, ready to be sketched in with the world around me. Starting with the one I truely love and who is my best friend. My world. The only one with the will power to stick it out and be with me. One day soon, I hope she can say the same. Until then, I don’t really know what love is. Or what love is capable of. All i do know is that I crave it. Hope she is the girl who will give it to me.