"I liked it when you came on me...because of how lovingly you were when you cleaned me off."

— Post Secret

Teenage Angst At Its Best

My Emotions Are Nineteen and A Letter To My Past Love --

This is what we've become. If you told me four years ago this is all it would be, I wouldn't have done any of it. But, that's just a lie. I would do all of it again. You'd think I'd regret you. You'd think I would think you are a mistake.

Truth is...I don't regret it. I still don't regret it. I don't think you're a mistake.

You drive me insanely crazy. Sometimes in a good way. Sometimes not. I call you a jerk. And you call me annoying. But, the second I get into town, I have to text you.

I'm perfectly fine not being your girlfriend. When I'm not around you, and people aren't talking about you, I'm fine. Once I see you, or someone mentions your name, I get those butterflies, allllll over again, for no reason.
They just happen.

I listen to you talk about your problems. Mostly about girls. Mostly about a certain girl. And every single time you bring another girl up, I cringe.

I guess it's jealousy. I don't want to admit it...but I'm jealous. When you are with me, I don't want you talking about other girls. I know I say I know what I want and I even ask you to tell me what is new. I tell you that it is okay, and I will just listen. I'm jealous. When you're with me, I know it's only for a short time...and later, you'll be with someone else. Or hang out with someone else. When you're with me, it's just you and me.

I really really really hated it when I came over, then left, then came back, and she was there. I hated you for so long. I didn't talk to you for 3 months. That was the longest time I've not talked to you since I was fifteen years old. I'm nineteen now.

I know I'm just some crazy girl down the street, but you once upon a time took interest...in the crazy girl down the street.

You make me so mad sometimes. But then, you make me giggle like a little school girl. When I see you, I can't help but give you a hug. When you give me that smirk, that smirk I've grown to love, I know what you're thinking.

I know I'm not this blonde haired, blue eyed, big boobed, girl.

I'm me. I'm not some model. I'm not going to be. I'm gorgeous in my own way.

You are a jerk sometimes. But then...you're really sweet. When I'm upset, sometimes I run to you. Sometimes I just want to cuddle...and just lay there.

The things you say, sometimes it hurts. Sometimes the things you come up with...I'm just like, WTF? Why would you even ask me that? What were you even thinking? But, I forgive you. I don't know why I forgive you, but I know that I can't stay mad at you.

Once you give me your stupid smile, I'm gone. Once you give me that look that you have, my knees are weak. Once you give me that bear hug and hold me up and spin me around, I'm history. The anger is over. The hurt is gone. And then it starts all over again.

You only text me when you know I'm going to be in town. You never ask how I am. I should just stop texting you. But then we'd never talk...because you'd never just...talk to me without an agenda.

I am NOT your little toy, as much as you like to think I am.

I have feelings. I have emotions. Sometimes I just want to punch you. You play games with me...and it gets old.

One day, I'll find someone else tall, dark, and handsome, who treats me right, and I'll forget all about you.

For now...I don't know any better. I put up with it. I play into it. Every single time. I'm not saying that I don't like it, Oh I like it...I just want more. I'm greedy as hell. I get jealous easily. I get clingy, and you know that. That is the exact reason we could never be. I am exactly the type of girl that you don't want. I know it. You know it. So, we play our little games. And that is the end of it...then it starts all over.

Maybe I do love you. Who knows, right? I'm just some annoying girl down the street. I like the way you look at me. I like how we can just joke around. We've yet to hang out and not "play," which is remarkable. I snuck into your fucking house, at fucking midnight, when your fucking parents were home, because I missed you. And I wanted to be held. And we ended up doing other things. It still made me feel better.

Sometimes we have these deep conversations. Yes, we're friends. I can probably tell you anything. I'd like to think you could too. Most of the time, it is only about one thing. One goal. I'm not saying I don't like it, but I want more.

I like how sometimes you get jealous...because I always get jealous. It's nice to know you do too.

You cheat on every girlfriend you'd ever had...with me. I kinda like that though, just saying. I wish you knew. I wish you would open your eyes and see how good you have it. Sometimes when you are telling me about your girl problems, I wish I could say that I would never cheat on you. I would never leave you. I would never stop caring for you. I would never fuck up that badly. I'd take your side even if it were wrong. I'd be there when everyone else wasn't. I can't...you would consider that too emotional.

I wish we would kiss again. Ever since your realization that kissing is too affectionate, I've missed it. You used to make me see stars. I'd lose track of time. You are good at what you do, I give you that.

It isn't all about lust. That is the truth. I'd give the world to you if you just let me. I need to stop dreaming. I need to stop living up in the clouds. I just don't want to admit it. I know that I love you, and you don't love me. I guess that is just how the teenage way is.