The sound of the radio fades to nothing because the waves just can't reach

I don't know what's wrong with me. It's like all I can do is keep writing this gibberish to keep from breaking apart.

I know that things get worse before they get better because that’s what my psychiatrist says, but this is a worse that feels too big.

I love my mom. And this time, I told her I loved her. And she told me she loved me, too. And things were okay for a little while.

And how different her face looked the first time she really liked a boy who was not on a poster on her wall. And how her face looked when she realized she was in love with that boy.

Music is a vital part of my life, and it has been since I was a kid. It helped me find my identity as a person, it helped me find my identity as an artist, and it helped me get in touch with emotions that I didn't know I had.

deep down...she's a good woman...you should be proud of her." When I told my mom about this, she just looked very sad because he could never say those things to her. Not ever. Not even when he walked her down the aisle.