I hate the feeling you get.

When there's that tense and heated pause of fingers on the keyboard as you long to write, to write something—

But you don't know how to take that burn, that insistency and those tugs at your heartstrings. You don't know how to translate them into words.

I want to write something beautiful, but about what?

SD kids know how have fun.

Still doesn't beat SB, but comes pretty damn close.

Happy fifteenth birthday Justin!

I swear, sometimes you're the only one who keeps me sane. ♥

I feel like I give away a lot of love.

And I don't get a lot of it back.

Trying to be happy.

It's kind of working.

But you know.

I've always had a soft spot for you.

Oh, it's what you do to me.

Do you just read this and not care?

When you sat down next to me.

And I put my head on your knees and you your arms around my shoulders, it felt like everything was going to be normal again.

But then I realized it was just the haze and daze of Saturday nights.

Saturday nights, and nothing more. (You'll never do that if you're sober.)

"hi... are we okay?" I don't know, you tell me.