Remember?

Remember when we were little?

When everything in life was so good. When we couldn't understand what the grown ups talked about. When everything was like a game to us.

In the younger days, boys had coo dies and there were hardly ever bitch fights. No secrets, because the truth was always said. When we played with dolls, cars and barbies. We thought they were fun to play with. The competition was 'Who got the best barbie doll' But now its who has the best phone or clothes or shoes.

There was no per-pressure before. Everyone was friends and would play with each other.

Remember when you would get into fights with your friends? Or when you get cuts?

We would come home crying. Mummy and Daddy would be there to ask us what happened. We would tell them as they held us in their arms telling us everything would be okay. Even the smallest cuts would be kissed better. Mummy and Daddy made every fight and every cut better.

Remember when boyfriends didn't matter?

We would just kiss the boys we liked on the cheeks, we would hold there hands. We didn't care if they rejected us. We just did it. Then we would send them notes telling them how we liked them and we didn't care what they thought. We just did it!

The younger days. Everything was fun then.

To you.

I'm mad at myself. Not at you. I'm mad for always being nice, for apologizing when I didn't do anything wrong, for getting attached and making you a huge part of my life.

To you. I did this all for you, and did you even realize it? No. You were to unfocused to notice.

They asked me. "Why are you still with him?"

It's so hard to explain. I don't even know myself.

But you keep doing this.

There are days when we are SO good. Everything feels so right.

Then those days when everything is falling apart.

&& You need him.

But he isn't there.

I wanted to be more to you. Than just the same old girl.

Relationship, then a break up.

I want to be your best friend.

I want to be there for YOU when you need me.

But you make it completely impossible for me to do that.

Your pushing me back and fourth.

Whispers between the sentences of life.

Every moment we live, is just another experience.