I'm looking out my window for stars, but I know I can't see any. I can't see as clearly when I'm not with you. It's cold. A breeze drafts from my window and my hopeless attempts at shutting it, are, well, hopeless. I don't want to shut out the world, I want to be open to it, open to anything. But I can't.
I wanted to find my best me, and that's the me I am with you. Now I'm the me wishing I was her, which is the worst me, and I hate her with all my heart. But I guess that doesn't mean anything special, because I've only got half a heart left. Secrets don't make friends, but friends make secrets, and that's what sucks the most about them. Friends, I mean. They start rumors and secrets and fights and then pretend everything's okay and nothing happened later.
It scares me how to people who used to be eachother's everything can go from that into absolutely nothing. And when the world disappoints, always, how can I not let go and try to find me? If I didn't find me, who would I be? Not me, that's for sure. But even though I'm unsure, the me I was then, is a thousand times better than me now. So when the world disappoints, as people say, "find someone worth crying over". And I found you, and I let you go.
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