Being In Love Means hard questions. Will I? Won't I? Should I? Could I? Yes? No? You? Me? There is no me without you. Is there a you without me? And if were truly one. how will I breathe when circomstance pries us apart? You are my oxygen. my substance, the blood inside my veins. When we touch, you are my skin. hold all my joy inside of you. When you go, I wither.

Innocence eroded into nightmare. All because of very bad touch. Love, corrupted.

I can see why she feels left behind. Maybe even discarded. Is that why she refuses to accept my love and return it? Afraid that love doesn't last? Doesn't really exist? Afraid if her own father can withdraw his love (or at least the manifestation of his love), that maybe she somehow isn't worthy of the emotion?

Act on your impulse, swallow the bottle, cut a little deeper, put the gun to your chest.

Forever has no meaning when you're living in the moment. I wasn't ready for that moment to end.

The truth is, I don't have a real clue what love is - how to find it, how to give it. Once upon a time I thought I knew.

The only thing about myself I know for sure is that I don't know anything.