Sometimes the little things in life mean the most.

I do have friends, but they don't know me, only someone I've created to take my place. Someone sculpted from ice. I keep the melted me bottled up inside. Where no one can touch her, until, unbidden, she comes pouring out.

Would I ever find forever love? Do I really want to, when forever was a word without meaning?

And how can it be he's so in love with me? To grow up without love, and still have so much inside?

A whole big, giant world full of men. Men with blue eyes. Brown eyes. Green eyes. And indescribable shades in between. Tall men. Short men. Skinny men. Built men. And all combinations thereof. Nice men (so I've heard, but never really seen). Mean men. Decent men, indecent. And who knows which is the best kind to have, to hold, to love? I'd say, with so many men in the world, it would pay to sample a few. Scratch that. More than a few. Lots and lots. And then a few more. And maybe, after years of research, you might find one worth not throwing back. But hey, the fun is in the fishing.

Happily ever after is a concept I'll never believe in.

School used to be an escape. Now it's just another place with too much pressure, too much confrontation, & so not enough joy.