i'm just a bag of emotion.

there once were 11 little ticks in the woodwork of my heart. eleven little imperfections. now there are three, they are deep and time can't heal them when they are constantly being run down. three, three that you caused. three that won't save Scott. and three that are my hope to happiness.

two things. pt. 1

hormones.

a mistake.

we're friends.

if there is going to be an actual "mistake" can it actually be a mistake. 

next time:

no kissing.

no touching. 

not at four in the morning.

or maybe:

everything.

"she's no saint, but she'll take you to your knee's..."

one way or another. 

i don't like you much, i don't know if it's cause i don't think you're infatuation is real or maybe because i'm being protective of her. but i don't like you. maybe i'm jealous.

you better respect her, and treat her, well listen to her, and give her challenging conversations. make her think, challenge her, don't be too masculine. don't try to impress her, don't treat her like a goddess. she's a human. hold her hand give her flowers, have a decent taste in music. paint with her, if she wants to be artistic, let her. try your best to also be artistic. when she wants space, give it to her while still being there, if you can't do this, then nothing changes.