i'm letting go of you.

along with this year, i am going to let go of you. you were my life, but that life has passed on and gone to heaven. it's time for me to let go of you and what we had; goodbye.

my little man.

i remember the first time i saw you; you were lying with tubes down your throat in an incubator because you were six weeks premature, and too small to be able to breathe on your own. i remember the first time i held you, i still feel special because i was the first person to hold you; except for your mum, our dad, and of course the doctors and nurses. i remember the first time i changed you nappy, i hated it; smelt horrible. i remember the first time i saw you holding a condom, i was ten and you were six; you came into the house holding a pink rippled condom, and we all laughed as you asked what it was; you mistakened it for a balloon and attempted to blow it up. i remember the first time i stuck up for you at school, a few boys from the year above you were picking on you for being held back a year, you were crying; and i told them to piss off, if i remember correctly i scared the shit out of them, and they never bothered you again. i remember so many things from our childhood, even though i haven't been there much whilst you were growing up. i remember the first time i ever got high around you, you were sitting in the back of my car with our older brother, and i was sitting in the passenger seat and my boy friend at the time was driving, we were parked up at the beach, and i was freaking out, the thought of your mum finding out i was smoking drugs around you scares the shit out of me, and we made sure you knew the consequences if you were to taddle tale on us. that was the same night we set an age limit to when we were going to allow you to smoke dope yourself, and you promised i would be the first person to take you out to a bar, or club and buy you a drink. tomorrow, your becoming a teenager. turning the big one three, thirteen; it seems like just yesterday we were climbing trees, and playing with brats dolls together. even though i know you will never read this; i want you to know that your big sister loves you more than you will ever be able to understand.

happy new year.

i think it's time to wash away all of my worries, all of my pain, all of my unfortunate memories that have happened in the last year. i think it's time i let go, and just smile for a change, without a care in the world; just be me, and smile. each year my new years resolution has always been to become a better person, but i think this year; my new years resolution will be; to be myself, be to true to myself, and who i am. the last two years in a row i've been ditched by the person i loved, ending up walking around crying whilst i watched the fireworks go off, and last year his best friend was looking after me, so to get back at him for taking off an hour before the countdown; i decided he'd be my new years kiss. but tonight will be completely different to those horrible nights; i will be with two beautiful girls, i will be drunk, i will happy, i will be smiling, i will not let anything get in the way of us having a good night; and i will finally get the new years kiss i've been dreaming of.

here we go again.

it wasn't my intention to push you away, i was crying out for help. but when i need you the most, where are you? you aren't here. i hurt myself, you freak out and want space? what is that, honestly. if i was wearing your shoes, i would be there for you, comforting you, trying to cheer you up. but no, you want space; so you go to the beach with her, and ignore me. and then wonder why i'm so on edge about your friendship.

it's now or never.

i want to be happy. i need you. i want to smile. i need you. i want to break away from the pattern. i need you. i want to be strong enough for myself. i need you. i want to make you proud again.
i need you, i need your help.

my light at the end of the tunnel.

"i miss you sam :( it's already been over a year since i saw you. i hope your well and happy. your amazing and i love you. xx" waking up to this text, made my day. you always pop up at the right time. if i could have one wish it would be to see you right now. rob; i love you too, so much. so much more than you know. 

i don't want to think like this anymore.

i know you don't understand what it's like to want to cause yourself pain, or what it's like to think about ending your life almost everyday; and a huge part of me is grateful you don't think like that. but, instead of judging me for the way my mind works; can you please help me. i've been crying out for help in my own sheltered way for a few months now, when i should have just come to you; unfortunately i didn't feel comfortable enough to admit my mind to you, and now i wish i had. instead of looking at me like i'm less of person for this; can you please help me fight it. instead of blaming yourself; can you please help me. i need you. even though i don't say it; i need you.

i slipped up.

i don't know what came over me, or what i was thinking exactly; but i know you were on my mind. i feel terrible that my self control wasn't enough to stop myself, and that i felt like i had to hide this from you. bottling my feelings has become like second nature to me, but i didn't think that i would do this; i tried my hardest to fight the urges, but this time, in my drunken state; i wasn't strong enough. and now; through hurting myself, i've hurt you too. i'm sorry that you had to see this side of me, the look in your eyes is now burned into the back of my brain. i can't let this happen again, for me, for you, for us. this part of me; needs to stay in the past.

you smell like whore.

my mother got given perfume as a Christmas present, without thinking and looking at the bottle; i let her spray some on me. instantly after i smelt it i could feel my breakfast coming back up my throat; it's your perfume, the perfume you always brought for yourself, and sometimes let me where it as-well. the smell made all of our memories come back, the good memories; the memories i don't want to remember, because i want to forget i ever met you. and now; until that bottle is empty i'm going to despise the smell of my mum.

wanna know a secret?

this is what i want to do right now, the urge is growing bigger and stronger everyday. i asked you if there was one thing you would change about my body; and you said it would be my scars. you've always said you think they're disgusting, and the way you look at them kills me inside. the worst past about it is that, the way you talk about them, look at them, and judge me for them; makes me want to do it even more. but the thought of you, and what you would say, stops me. not only because you are the reason i wont hurt myself, but because i'm scared what you will think of me if you saw fresh wounds. if you think my year old scars are disgusting, what would you say if you saw my legs the way i want them right now.

you sounded just like him.

the other night we were sitting in my room talking; you mentioned it was weird that i don't have many girl mates, and i said i thought it was weird too, but it's mainly because i have trouble trusting girls. you told me how you use to have only girl mates, but now that you've moved here you only have one, you said the exact same thing he said to me about a year ago, and it scared the shit out of me; "out of all the girls, i only have one chick mate, jorgi" my face dropped as the words escaped your lips. "well i think you should get some more girl mates" you thought i was just joking around, so you laughed as i walked out of the room. but i wasn't, not at all. out of all the girls in this town, why her? i walked out of the room because i couldn't look at you, it made me cringe inside to hear you say that, it made my stomach flip upside down and tears started to form in my eyes. one of your mates asked me if i was okay, i said yes, but i wasn't; not at all. i sat in the toilet for a few minutes and let the tears drip off my face onto the floor, as i listened to you and your mates laughing, and joking around. i tried to force a smile back onto my face, but i couldn't get those words out of my mind "out all of the girls, i only have one chick mate, jorgi." it kept going over and over in my mind. out of all the girls in this fucking town, why her?!?!?!

all i want for christmas is you.

i want to be able to kiss you, cuddle you, and call you mine again. i'll be spending christmas day with you this year; which is a good change from the last few years, and i'm hoping, wishing that by the twenty-fifth i'll be able to call you mine again. i miss being yours.

i miss the sound of your voice.

a year ago, you would have been here with me, making me smile with every little thing you do. i hope you come back soon, it's been so long since i've seen your face; 

i need you. i miss you.

i love you; more than you’ll ever know. 

your coming home tonight.

i guess i got use to having you around, because the last few weeks you've been away; i've missed you more than i thought i would. it's going to be good to have you home again, i want to have that girls night we've been talking about for months. looking forward to seeing you mum, only a few hours to go.

six sleeps to go.

the other day he asked me if i was excited for Christmas, and i said yes; but he knew from the tone in my voice and the look in my eyes, that i wasn't at all interested. two nights ago one of his friends asked where my tree is, and i replied that i didn't have one; he asked why, and i made up the excuse that the reason we don't one is because my mother has been over-sea for two weeks. but the truth is; i don't want one anyways, i never have. each year my mum's attempted to make Christmas something special, but i have never been interested. since i was kid, i have never liked Christmas. maybe it's because my mother's abusive ex boyfriend was born on Christmas day, and ever since i was five, Christmas has always reminded me of him. or maybe it's because when i was eight i watched my mother get beaten to a pulp with a crow bar by a middle age man on boxing day, and he wasn't just some middle aged man, he an ex-biker, he was a tank. maybe it's because one Christmas i spent at the beach entertaining myself while my mother slept, because she was too tired and hungover to look after me. maybe it's because i've only ever spent two Christmas's with my dad, or maybe it's because the day itself is never as pleasant as i imagine. but this year, he's invited me over to spend the afternoon and night with him and his family. his perfect family, and me, i am so fucking nervous. i know i'm going to have an amazing time, and love every minute, but i am so fucking nervous. this year; he's what i'm looking forward to, this day seams to mean a lot to him. unfortunately; i'm completely broke, so i have no money for Christmas shopping, which means no Christmas presents, and that means i have nothing to give him; which makes me want to cry.

we wouldn't be sisters if we didn't fight.

i feel completely terrible, because i don't know how to mend your heart, or heal your wounds. i don't know how to stop the pain, or the emptiness you feel inside. ever since the day i met you, all i have ever wanted was to help and make you smile. i don't know how to stop the people that walk in and out of your life, promising to make you smile, but leaving you even more broken than before. i don't know how to stop you hurting yourself, whether it's with razor blades, drugs or alcohol. i don't know how to get through to you how fucking terrified i am about you, because you don't listen. i don't know how to tell you that your making it worse when you think your making it better. i don't know how to tell you that when you hurt, i hurt. i don't know how to tell you that sometimes, you can be really fucking horrible and i can't stand it. i don't know how to tell you that i despise some of the things you say and do. i don't know how to tell you that when you guilt trip me, it makes me sick, because i know better than anyone how traumatic your life can be, and to try and use it against me? to make me feel bad? isn't right, at all. i don't know how to tell you that you can be the biggest fucking hypocrite sometimes. there are so many things i don't know how to do, or say to you. because i am afraid of what you will say, or what you might do; i'm afraid of loosing you. but there is one sentence that will never be any easier for me to say to you. i love you. despite our arguments, and our floors. i love you, unconditionally.

he deserves better than you.

i can't even describe the way i feel about you, my mind has gone blank. i am a fool for believing you were my friend, and sympathising for you. i've always known what kind of girl you are, the kind that runs around in front of boys in barely any clothing just to get their attention, you're the kind of girl to flirt with my man in front of me, pretend like you're my best friend, and then stab me in the back with my own knife, you're the kind of girl to seduce boys, because you think that will make them love you, you're the kind of girl who will fuck someone over, and make it out like your innocent. you're the kind of girl who looks perfect to the world; pretty, honest, trustworthy Christian girl, but i know you better than the world does. once a whore, nothing more, i'm sorry that'll never change. if only he could see you for who you truely are, because you never have, and never will deserve that amazing young man you have your hands on.

the game is getting old.

i don't know what to think; you change depending on who your with, and i cannot stand it. i know i'm guilty of this myself, but my feelings for you don't change, no matter who i'm with or what i'm doing, but as for you; well things can be a hell of a lot different when your with them. i'm running out of things to write, things to say, things to do. you have a choice, there are two options. one, walk away, and stop messing me around. and two, be with me, make some effort, and show me you still care. i'm getting tired of this backwards and forwards thing we have going on.

you're ruining my family.

yet again i've been hiding my true feelings behind my smile, pretending like what you've done to my family doesn't phase me, but if i'm being honest with myself; i wanted to shove your hugs, your smiles, your casual conversation, your star bucks, and your manipulative 'caring nature' right up your ass. i didn't say any of the words racing through my mind, to save drama, because all i wanted was to spend some quality time with my brother. i don't see him for months at a time, and all i wanted was to see him; so i zipped my mouth shut. i didn't realise how bad things had got down here, i was oblivious to the extent of coruption. but after this weekend, i wont be coming back for a while. if you could see yourself through my eyes, you wouldn't like what there is to be seen. i'm sure you have no idea what your doing to my family, you think your doing the right thing by my brother, but in reality; your ripping him, and his family apart.

spirits are real.

almost seven in the morning, about to hop into bed. i thought i would we spending another night alone, but after a simple conversation on face book, a few good friends came over. coincidentally one of the boys left his wallet here, so only a few came back. earlier we were talking about spirit's, i told everyone that i had a psychic circle; the boys were interested, so now that we were alone, thought we'd try it out. after reading the instructions, lighting a few candles and making ourselves comfortable, we sat down ready to talk to the dead. we placed our fingers onto the small glass dish and asked questions. at first a few of us were skeptical about the board, and the powers that come from the spirit realm. but it proved their beliefs wrong, suddenly the glass dish started moving around the board on it's own, at first we were all a bit freaked out, and tears came pouring out of all our eyes when the dish moved around to where ever it wanted to go. every time it started moving, i would get a rush of shivers down my spin, a warm sensation in my heart, and often goosebumps all over my body. we worked out what kind of question to ask, and to not ask. one friends dead father, and cousin came through and spoke to us, saying hello and trying to him a message. we asked his cousin whether or not she was in heaven, and she replied yes. she could easily answers questions, such as what is the middle maiden name of their grandmother.  i asked if my friend that passed away a few years ago was there, and a strong pull moved the dish to the spot reading 'yes' as we kept going, i started to cry but she couldn't tell me whether she was okay or not. the connection became stronger, and we began to feel when the spirit was communicating with us or not. this went on for about four hours, we all asked about our future, and where we were going in our lives, the answers began to be vague; so we would moved the dish back into the middle of the board, and vent to each other how we were feeling, and what questions we wanted to ask next. we discovers different ways we thought helped our communication; how we would word the questions, and repeating them in a pattern, and sometimes all together. it was obvious that me and a friend had the most powerful connections to the board, and it worked better when our fingers were on the dish. at one point when everyone else took their fingers off, it started to move on it's own, when only my fingers were placed lightly on the glass dish; that's when i freaked out a little bit. i asked if it was positive that i left brett, it strongly moved it's way over the 'yes' sign, so i asked my next question; will brett and i ever get back together, the spirit replied 'no' although it couldn't give me an answer as to why. but i'm sure i already know the answer to that, he'll never change. one of the boys asked who was the most 'psychic' in the circle, and they moved to the letter S, which didn't surprise any of us, and it was reassured when we asked if they meant me, and the dish moved towards the yes. one time, it specifically asked for one of the boys, who didn't even have his fingers on the dish at the time. it came to four am, and one of the boys mentioned that 'whitching hour' was over, i wasn't sure what that meant. but afterwards we asked how many spirits were with us. we were usually getting about six, seven or even eight. but this time, it was one. we then asked if it was a good spirit, the dish moved to the 'no' symbol, we then asked the question we asked frequently during the night "are you going to harm us?" and it moved to the 'yes' symbol. that's when we closed the circle, and ended the game. we were all a little scared after the last spirit, we stayed up talking about all the different so called messages that came through, we were all very confused on some of them, but others were completely clear.  i've always believed in ghosts, spirits, demons, angels, whatever name you have for them, in what ever shape or form; i've always known they are real. but after tonight; there is no doubt in my mind the power that they have.

make up your mind.

it's easy to blame it all on me, but you cannot say that you haven't played any part in our relationship falling apart. but you were one of the main characters. i know, i messed up a lot, and i could have done a lot better. but i wasn't the only one to slip up along the way, you've done some damage too. you need to realise that, you aren't the only one who has been let down, and some of the things you've done, it deserves some kind of making up for, not just me. i think you need to think about what you want, and decide if it's me or not.  i want to fix this, i want it to work. but it's hard to hang on by myself love, are you going to let me fall?

yes, i am addicted.

i need a smoke. i need a smoke. i need a smoke. i need a smoke. i need a smoke. i need a smoke. i need a smoke. i need a smoke. i need a smoke. i need a smoke. i need a smoke. i need a smoke. i need a smoke. i need a smoke. i need a smoke. i need a smoke. i need a smoke. i need a smoke. i need a smoke. i need a smoke. i need a smoke. i need a smoke. i need a smoke. i need a smoke. i need a smoke. i need a smoke. i need a smoke. i need a smoke. i need a smoke. i need a smoke. i need a smoke. i need a smoke. i need a smoke. i need a smoke. i need a smoke. i need a smoke. i need a smoke. i need a smoke so badly, i wrote this out.

i'm begining to not care.

i admit it may have been a bit rude to get high just before you came around, but what reason have you given me to not to accept? they turned up with two dins about ten minutes before you came over. why shouldn't i have a sesh, your not trying at all for me; and that's not okay with me. i'm not upset that you left, you weren't talking to me anyways. you said you were coming over to bake cookies, and then couldn't give me a reason why we couldn't when you were here. i do miss you, alot. but i couldn't hold on by myself.

is my heart too broken.

am i not pretty enough? is my heart too broken? do i cry too much? am i too outspoken? don’t i make you laugh? should i try it harder? why do you see right through me? i live, i breathe, i let it rain on me, i sleep, i wake, i try hard not to break, i crave, i love, i’ve waited long enough, i try as hard as i can.

am i not pretty enough? is my heart too broken? do i cry too much? am i too outspoken? don’t i make you laugh? should i try it harder? why do you see right through me? i laugh, i feel, i make believe it’s real, i fall, i freeze, i pray down on my knees, i hope, i stand, i take it like a man, i try as hard as i can.

why do you see, why do you see, why do you see right through me?

thanks for coming to see me.

i've been praying for a sign, a sign that you still care, a sign that there is still hope for us. and today; you gave me that little piece of hope i've been asking for. and i'm going to hold onto it, along with the countless kisses. i can't wait to see you tomorrow.