Its effing surreal.This is the lovesick me,typing out sweet nothings almost every single time.Every damn time.I can't help it.I possibly can't seem to think of anything else.This happiness is what dreams are made of and now its for real.Damn you,S.You're something.Almost too good to be true.
Last evening,while talking on the phone with a friend,I etched out small hearts on a page in the telephone directory.I'm that crazy.True.Story.
I'm in love with the thought of being in love.You get that,right?
Until more into the crazy mind (gee *heart*)of this lovesick teen.ta-ta.
I Went With Something Generic
1 day ago