Bitter Memories and Moving On.

Nearly two months with out a relapse.
Still lots of shouting, but less crying.
More frustration, but the thoughts of ending it float away.

I talk with my friends everyday.
Go on mini vacations.
Work to make myself feel better.

I'm finally moving forward.
After a year of hiding behind a wall.
I can breath again.

I can finally feel the word spinning.

Sweets and Best Friends

You count.

I've decided to trust you, you can know everything.
When I'm hurting i'm going to complain to you.
When i'm happy, i'm going to sing at you.

This means complete honesty.
And me being so comfortable with you it'll seem weird to some people.

I'll expect you to get me, in ways that even my family doesn't.

And you're going to see the worst of me, but you're also going to get the best.

I'm going to throw four hundred percent at you.
And this is scary.
But I know that you'll get it.

I'm going to hug you a lot, and longer then I hug others
And kiss your cheek.

You're going to get presents, handmade and customized.

And lastly, you're going to get "I love you's" not romantic, but sweet little things just to express how much you mean to me.

I love you, Best friend.

Little imperfections make the world twirl.

"I wish I had a smaller stomach." A girl says to herself sternly as she picks herself apart in the mirror.
"Mines so freaking tiny, dude!" Exclaims the growth challenged teenage boy to his friend in the locker room.
"I hate myself." Whispers half the generation.

What they don't know is how those tiny imperfections make them beautiful.
No star is a perfect diamond.
No grain of sand is completely smooth.

Look at the imperfect world around you.
Stare at the stars and realize that you are not perfect.
But no one else is either.