Back to the start and you really don’t look a day over one, I can’t believe it’s been so long we used to spill the secrets of the world to each other but we never will again; we have changed for the better
I couldn’t catch my breath. I forgot how to breathe Throwing a goofy grin in my direction It’s hard to write this all My mind still isn’t working I’m overwhelmed. "Nothing lasts forever, and we both know hearts can change." "When I look into your eyes I can see a love restrained." I think she was right. My heart is aching. The show went great. I’ll miss it, even if I had a small handful of friends. I’ll miss you most of all, you know. I’m so hopeless for even saying that. I promised I’d be with you in the next show. Here’s to keeping that promise. I’ll see you around.
…Cry in public after reading a really good book? I finished reading The Time Traveler’s Wife today during lunch. I wanted to sob. I let the tiniest amount of tears fall down my cheeks, but other than that, I tried my best to hold it it.
During English, I couldn’t focus. Books move me to such lengths. I don’t think this happens to anyone else. I get so depressed over sad endings to the point where I can’t truly be happy until I forget about it.
My relationship is nothing compared to Henry’s & Clare’s. It’s ridiculous how much they loved each other.
I want to be as happy as them.
Minus my husband having his feet amputated, him being a time traveler against his will, and die from my father’s own bullet.
But secretly, I would love to be a CDP. (A Chrono Displaced Person.)
I’m going for a very serious type of doctor’s appointment next Thursday. Something’s wrong with me, and they’ll probably run tests. I’m afraid for what it may be.
I have to tell my mother something very personal. I didn’t want her to find out quite yet, but now I’m being forced to tell her.
He and I are still happily (more or less) together. We’ve had a lot of fights recently because we don’t see eye to eye on some aspects of each other’s lives. His life’s ambition is to run with the ambulances, and I can’t handle that.
I guess this is where I launch into a long, dull story of why that is. The idea of death terrifies me. If he’s running around trying to save lives, or witnessing grotesque situations, he’ll tell me about them, pushing my mind further into a state of total panic. Some nights I stay up all night with images and horrible ideas in my head. Death haunts me. It has ever since I moved here. Ever since Dan and my Papa died, it’s gotten so much worse. He wants to witness an autopsy. I told him that’s the one thing, if I even have a say in it, that I don’t want him to do. Ever. Yeah, call me selfish… But I just can’t stand the thought of him hovering over a dead body, examining it for a cause of death, just telling himself over and over that this person was never a person, that this person never had a family, that this person is just a hunk of meat on a cold, steel table. That mindset I just can’t handle. We will be complete opposites if he ever witnesses one.
Everyday we’re growing farther apart, I can feel it. When we kiss, we don’t have the same passion. I can feel the tension building. Maybe it’s just me. Maybe that’s the rush I’m supposed to feel. Who knows. He’s pursing his dream and I’m stuck unsure of mine.
Maybe that’s why we argue. Because I’m jealous. He knows what he wants. He has it firmly in his grasp. What do I have? I don’t even have an idea, a clue, a starting point. I want to be a writer, but that takes knowing the right people and a shit load of luck.
I guess what I’m trying to say is we’re different now than we were when we started dating. We were carefree and so full of those first date butterflies. Now we’re serious and kind of stressed out all the time. I think back to our beginning a lot. I was his first kiss. He was not. I was his first everything and I mean everything. He is my first love.
I wouldn’t take back anything we’ve done. Nothing. Not even the horrible fights. They’ve just made us stronger.
She and I start living our lives again. We go our separate ways. After living a million or so lives together, we have grown tired of one another. Not to say that we don’t love each other, it’s just a different love now. It’s not a passionate love, it’s a love bound together by friendship.
Soon after we return from our faraway planet, we begin dating other people. I pursue a stunning, blonde singer, while she falls madly in love with a saviour.
For a long time, we don’t even speak to one another. She said some bad things about me and my new love, and she thinks I talk bad about her behind her back. We’re angry and hurt. For the longest time, I think we’ll never speak to one another again.
Then one day I decide to forgive her. It’s completely out of the blue for her. We have long since been in contact, so I wonder how she’s doing. I read her blog, which some of her friends highly recommend.
I want to punch something.
How could she say such things about me? Does she hate me that much? I didn’t know she hated me!
Time passes again. I don’t know how long. Time doesn’t mean a thing to me anymore since I’ve come home.
She pleads for me to forgive her. I don’t take to it at first, but somewhere, deep down, I know I should. I’m no good at explaining this. But maybe it was because we shared so much in the past, and I really wasn’t ready to let it all go.
She and I once again became friends, much more slowly than before. We’d see each other in the halls. Our eyes would meet and we’d look away. She’d be just sitting down while I was getting up. I’d try and make new friends while she would sit alone.
Then, it all changed. I’m not sure why, or how, but we went back to being two peas in a pod.
Sometimes, when I run into her by chance, we just stare at each other. We’re wounded animals, hurt by each other, and we just stare. I know she’s remembering, but what am I thinking? She’s trying to know me again.
I was too hurt by her to ever let her completely inside my heart again, and that’s a fact.
She and I will never be the same, but we can fake it pretty damn well.
And just because we had that entire history together, even if it didn’t work out, doesn’t mean we have a future. There won’t be a future for us.
And somehow, I’m ok with that. And I know she is too. She has her love and I have mine.
“'Anyway… we've decided we don't care about getting into trouble any more.'
‘Have you ever?’ asked Hermione.
‘Course we have,’ said George. ‘Never been expelled, have we?’
‘We’ve always known where to draw the line,’ said Fred.
‘We might have put a toe across it occasionally,’ said George.
‘But we’ve always stopped short of causing real mayhem,’ said Fred.
‘But now?’ said Ron tentatively.
‘Well, now –’ said George.
‘– what with Dumbledore gone –’ said Fred.
‘– we reckon a bit of mayhem –’ said George.
‘– is exactly what our new Head deserves,’ said Fred.’”—Fred and George
“'Oh, are you a Prefect, Percy?' said one of the twins, with an air of great surprise. 'You should have said something, we had no idea.'
‘Hang on, I think I remember him saying something about it,’ said the other twin. ‘Once– ‘
‘A minute– ‘
‘Oh, shut up,’ said Percy the Prefect”—Fred & George