Read this if you want to know me.

Just... about me?

It's one foot in front of the other, counting steps in fours, cause odd numbers suck. It's dedication to dedication to you. It's running from what's right, cause what's right for you, is never the easiest way to live. It's holding your breathe, pacing back and forth on the phone, hoping you get those words right, just to get a gotta go response. It's sitting on the edge of your seat, shaking your knee, nodding your head, agreeing, never showing what hurts the most. Your waiting, just waiting, to get home so you can take it all out on a pen and some paper that you'll crunch up and throw away later. It's being so over analytical that you can't see the simple perfection of the moment, until it's gone. So analytical that you can easily predict the next words to slip from anyones lips. Predictibilty is your f*****g pet peeve, and it's not hard to imagine why. It's using substances to feel something, anything, cause anything is more than nothing at all. And you only feel for the one's who see you as an easy option. It's only having the nerve to show your love for her when you're too drunk and too numb to even feel her. It's hello's and goodbye's quite tragically, quite regularly. It's wishing for a life that you can never have, because it's the life you're living, you'll just never be able to see it, you'll never be able to accept it. This is as good as it gets I do hope you know. It's about advice and then hypocrisy. It's about never believing in love, and about loving someone more than you can even handle. You couldn't write a book or make a movie about something like this. It's about hiding from feelings that you don't even know what to do with. It's about being easily replaced, time and time again. It's about a million hands, all on you, and not one being the one. It's about everyone "loving" you, until you need them. It's about the few good friends, that you couldn't lose if you tried. It's about being the comedian, it's about pleasing everyone. It's being an a*****e. It's playing an act. It's about realization. It's about nights like this, leaving the window open to feel the wind, to breathe the fall air. It's about never liking fall until tonight. It's about fighting for everyone but myself. It's about people you don't even know messaging you, praising you, for your work. It's about feeling indifferent because there's nothing special about writing what every single one of us feels. It's just writing it in a way never quite considered. It's about saying i'm sorry one too many times. It's about hearing it more. It's about struggling to remember a voice that you spoke to everyday for two years. It all just seems like a weird fucked up dream. It's about being the last hand to hit the roof after hearing pediddle. It's about astrology. It's about unacceptance. It's about standing at work bitching about all the rude people and just as you go to let the last person leave before locking the doors, she turns to you and says, "thank you, have a good night." It's about the small things. It's about seeing beautiful first thing in the morning. It's about how much longer you have until the next thing in your life has to end. It's about seeing Pikes Peak, and feeling your stomach drop. It's about an old soul just trying to be young like everyone else. It's about butterflies and tingles and feeling weak at your knees. It's about something always being in the way. This is about life... and this is life to me