Things end. People leave. And you know what? Life goes on. Besides, if bad things didn't happen, how would you be able to feel the good ones?
The world will knock you down plenty. You don't need to be doing it to yourself.
The truth is, I feel beyond sad. I feel empty. Numb.
You tell yourself that you aren't something or that you can't be something, and you know what? It will become true. You have to decide who you are and what you can do and then go after what you want. Because believe me, no one is going to give it to you.
Why do people think being with someone is the answer to everything?
I do not fall. I fell so hard so long ago there is nothing left for me to land on. I just keep falling and falling and falling.
Things change. Stuff happens. Life goes on.
Little Alice, all hollowed out, so easy to smash into a million little pieces.
I want to care, but I don’t. I look at you and all I feel is tired.
But the past couple of days I’ve missed you so much it’s felt like missing you is all I am.
I’m always the one who doesn’t have a date, the one guys walk up to and say, “So, is your friend, you know, with someone?” and I may not be the only girl without someone, but it feels like it sometimes. A lot of the time.
I love books. I like that the moment you open one and sink into it you can escape from the world, into a story that's way more interesting that yours will ever be.
The thing about hearts is that they always want to keep beating
And what if---what are you if the people who are supposed to love you can leave you like you're nothing?
Things... well, things suck sometimes. And sometimes you can fix it. And sometimes you can't. It's just the way it is.
love is...you get confused and you do stuff you don't mean to do-and you just-you hate yourself and sometimes you don't even want to love the person you do because it would be so much easier if you didn't.But you just-you just do.
I don't know how I know that, but I do. I can feel the beat of that truth inside me. Taste it bitter on my tongue. Sometimes, like now, I didn't think I want to know who I really am.
School is just like having a job. You have to show up, you have to do your work, and you have to be around tons of idiots or mean people. Now that I think about it, it's worse than having a job. At least there you get paid.
Then I heard someone laugh. I wished I didn't know whose laugh it was, but I knew Will's laugh just like I knew he had a small scar right above his left elbow. You couldn't be reluctantly lust-ridden for someone without noticing stuff about them.
She looked at me for real and saw I was serious. She saw I knew she was for me like you know that tomorrow morning the sun will rise.
He looks trapped, helpless and furious, and that’s a feeling I know too well. Know how much it hurts. Know how it holds you down, how every day there are a thousand little ways to see there is nothing you can do to change who or what you are.
I felt nothing all the time, and it had started to feel normal. It should have scared me, but it didn't.
The thing is, that world doesn't exist. All growing up means is that your realize no one will come along to fix things. No one will come along to save you.
I deserved the shaking and the headaches and the fact that every single time I took a breath I felt a squeezing in my chest, my heart beating even though I wished it wasn't.
I’m broken, I have cut myself wide open. I can see my heart and it is not what I believed it was, it is not good and kind and all the things I have always thought I am.
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