First of two posts for today.

This one will be more of a blog, the next is partly a blog, but written as part of a book I'm considering writing.

Sometimes I don't know who to trust. Sometimes it seems that everyone could be just as honest...Or just as decieving.
Why would he go out of his way to mention that he was breaking it off entirely with her if he didn't mean it? But on that note, why did he make a whole separate myspace to talk to me? I can't help but wonder if he said it so I wouldn't ask. I can't help but wonder if he meant it. I don't want to be the "other girl" again.
Last night screwed me all up. What was he looking for when he pulled into the driveway? Was it as simple as he said, some late-night company? Or was it more? I thought I might awake (assuming I had slept) to a note saying "I was wrong." Or even just "take me back." I'm not afraid to say too much anymore. I'm sick of hiding it. The more I hold it in, the more it just eats me away. I love you. I said it. I love you even more than before. You said it. So how could you say "friends" after that? I'm done feeling used. Three times. Three times more than I wanted to I gave you what you wanted. I thought it would make you stay. I know now I was wrong.
Then I get to him. Oh him. With those eyes, that laugh, that voice that sends me in a whirl. I'm falling; hard and fast. But all these branches sticking out from the cliff keep holding me up. They both say two separate things. One firsthand, the other through her. Who am I supposed to believe? The one who I thought loved me more than life, but turned out to be caught in her web? Or this beautiful stranger with no reason to lie? He knows my horrid past. He told me his. Why would he leave that out?

I don't know what I'm thinking anymore. My bones ache from lack of sleep. A whirl of their voices spins in my head, blurring my vision until I fall to the floor. Say I'm being dramatic. Say it's just teenage lust. But don't tell me this pain isn't real.