I don’t know, I can’t complain I guess love is good, right? But it is also a big word. I guess I could say Im in like. It’s exactly how they say, how it just creeps up on you without even realizing it.
I hate it.
I just wish it was easy, to say good bye and stick to what I had told myself I wasn’t gonna miss any of this. That I was gonna leave here and not look back, and then you came along.
I will say that you by far are the most confident to approach me, without even being cocky. It’s perfect.
You make it so there’s no way I could be awkward, I don’t feel like i need to talk to you all hours of the day to know what’s going on. It’s simple and the kind of new I need.
However, you are also a lot younger then I would go for but already the most, real person I know. It’s exciting, I can’t wait for this weekend and it’s nice to have a change in pace.

But not really, I am actually happy alone. I mean not in a bitter way, but I can get dressed up and go to school and feel pretty, beautiful and confident without needing a guy there to tell me I am. I think this can be what true happiness is. With school winding down I am getting more and more irritated with everyone’s last hurrah of drama, but something tells me I will miss this when I’m gone.

So I guess I’ll just try to embrace it. Summer’s coming and I feel free, happy, like I don’t need a person to make me smile..

I can just do it because I can.

I love this organic and uncomplicated feeling.

I walked out onto the steps, I looked up at the sky and admired it for it’s brutal honesty: grey, clouded and hurt. I pulled my coat a little closer to my body as I tried to fight the cold. My face stings, my hands are hard and my skin is cracked from neglect. I made my way down the street and kept out of pedestrian traffic, I checked my watch: Six forty-five, right on time. Briefcase in one hand I bought a coffee to keep the other warm, a strong smell of roasted coffee beans and hazelnut creamer tangled, lingered under my nose: two Splenda and extra cream. I checked my watch again as it read six fifty-five. I stepped outside of the coffee house and the aroma of brewing coffee is replaced by engine fumes and the soft acoustics in the background turned into a murr of voices and cars angrily honking. The bus cam around the corner as the clock struck seven, as always. I made my way onto the bus swiping my card and watched the little green light flash. I sat down and studied the familiar faces: calm, perturbed, contemplative, tired and unfocused. But there’s one I didn’t recognize. His face was hard and I couldn’t read it, the simple clothes, maybe to attract little attention. He had chocolate hair that peeked out of his maroon slouchy beanie, his face was a soft ivory and had a faint stubble along his jawline. His eyes were different though, at first glance, they were hazel but looking into them there was an undertone of cerulean and gold. He had sienna freckles surrounding the pupil and together it made a curious combination. He sat with a casual hunch but favored his right side since that was where the window was. He wore a navy blue cargo jacket that had many pockets, it was loose but not to lose the structure of his body shape. His jeans were a dark rinse and wore black shoes, nothing special but his gaze burned as I sat across from him.

I’m over this place. I hate it, everyone.

I’m not another teenager in angst, this is real, and ever since I’ve moved here I have ran into nothing but shit. The people here are constantly shady, every one does things for their own interest and it’s like a fucking daytime novella. I’m sick of all of it, I have turned into this bitch that I don’t even know. I hate who I am and I just want to get away from everyone. Everyone here. I’m never happy with how I look, my friends are always changing and I am always struggling to stay afloat here in a place where appearance is all anyone knows. People are fake and I can’t confront anyone anymore, people like to hide behind a fucking screen then talk things out. Like this, tumblr, I have turned to venting and writing on this as a filler for where my god damn friends are supposed to be. It’s sad. I have to cry and type on this god damn computer than talk in person to a friend, the only way I can do that is if I pay a stranger an obnoxious amount of money to listen to me and offer me genetic advice.

I want to go back to Hawaii. California. Anywhere far away from here.

When does this end?

gabbifail:

So there’s this boy who is Mexican. I have known him for about five years, not on a personal level, but enough to know his background and this year he is in my psychology class. Every other day he seems to have a story about he’d been discriminated against at some point that day….