I read my horoscope today.

This is what it said:

You have to take action. It's time to tell a certain someone how you feel. It won't be easy, but you'll be relived to know where you stand.

Right. It's like my thoughts were written down in horoscope form. 

What now?

Every Little Thing Is Gonna Be Alright...

I'm not worried about that project that's due in 3 months for AP art.

 

I'm not worried about the stupid things I said because I'm awkward, especially around him.

 

It's alright that I'm ready to go to sleep on the first Saturday of summer, and it's not even 10 o'clock yet.

 

I'm not worried about what people think of how I look. Right now I'm sitting at home in sweats with wet hair. It's alright.

 

I'm not worried about what my friends are out doing.

 

I'm not concerned with what he thinks of me.

 

I'm not thinking about how I should've confessed my love to him in his yearbook. Because I almost did, then I freaked out at the last minute and didn't. But that's another story. (Actually, I am thinking about it a little...)

 

For once in long time, I'm content. 

Also, it's Summer. Go eat a snowcone or something. 

Letters.

Dear School,

Go away. 

No one really wants you here anymore.

No, Really.

Love, 

The girl who's brain has malfunctioned and stopped working.

Dear Orange Leaf,

You have trapped me with your frozen yogurty goodness.

Thank you for making me spend all my money. Just kidding.

Stop being so delicious.

You make me melt.

Love

The girl who keeps showing up there and will soon be broke

Dear Mother Nature,

Sunshine please?

Love 

The girl who misses the warmth of the sun.

Dear PreCalc,

I quit.

Love

The girl who is going to probably fail the term final.

Dear Boy,

Figure out what you want.

Do something.

Let me know your plans please.

Love,

Me

There we were. 

Sitting in the library.

On the floor, between the bookshelves titled

History & Literature.

Books strewn around us,

Laughing quietly.

Softly talking, 

while scanning books.

The occasional person passing through the isle,

while searching out their own books.

A perfect way to start the day.

Hope is a Dangerous Thing

There's different kinds of hope.

There's the kind that doesn't matter much, like hoping for sunshine the next day instead of rain, and there's the kind that seems to be the most important thing in the world. I have a promblem with the second kind.

Sometimes hope gets the best of me.
You see, when I hope, and that hope gets crushed, I become a wreck. It's happened before, and I know it will happen again. Except for some reason I just can't stop it. No matter how much I tell myself no, I will always keeping hoping.
(I keep hoping for him, but that's beside the point--You see? I'm just setting myself up for disappointment. Again. I seem to be fairly excellent at that.)