Say You'll Remember Me

I understand trying to please someone you thinks loves you. To keep that love, you keep twisting and bending yourself to become who they want you to be until you eventually break. There’s a hole in them, a hole they need filled, and they want you to become the circle that will fit into them to make them complete, even though you’re a square. It’s an awful place to be, the person responsible for someone else’s happiness, because being human, we’re going to fail. And by being human, we’ll take the lashing when we never meet expectations.

Amazing things are going to happen because that’s what happens when you find your wings and finally fly.

You think it’s smart for a guy like me to kiss the governor’s daughter? You need to know who I was before, so you’ll stay away from me, and before, I wasn’t a nice guy.” Elle studies me too seriously and long enough it causes me to shift my footing. “You want to kiss me?

I'm just a girl on a midway, he's just a boy on a midway, and not everything has to end like a daydream.

As much as I want nothing more than to be around you, as much as I want to touch you and kiss you and hear your laughter and your voice, I can’t. You and me – it can’t happen. Not in public. Not in private. I lost one year of my life, and I can’t lose any more.

Life shouldn’t revolve about being the best, and childhood definitely shouldn’t. You should have given me the room to explore who I was without the pressure of succeeding each and every single time.

I hate the word beautiful. Hate it. The word beautiful somehow gives the world permission to make wrongful assumptions about me, like that I don't have a brain. Beautiful somehow gives men permission to say the phrase as a secret password in my direction, and I should therefore fall at their feet. Beautiful makes people believe they can say anything they want about or to me and that I shouldn't be angry. Nothing in the universe could be more wrong.

This love, it has been worth it—even if I'm losing a piece of my heart in the process.

I don’t know who I am anymore, but I do know I don’t want to be this girl. I just want to be me. But according to Sean, I don’t get what I want unless I compromise, and I don’t want to compromise.

We’re stronger together, Drix. I promise we are. Please don’t give up on us. Please don’t give up on yourself.” “I don’t know,” he says into my hair. “I don’t know where to go from here. I don’t know how to be the man you deserve when we can’t even be seen together in public. I don’t know who I am, especially when I’m never going to be anything more than who I was.

What is this, Drix?” I whisper. “What is this between us?” “I don’t know,” he says against by neck. “But I’m not ready to let it go yet.

Several photographers have mumbled between each other about my glasses. They’re just jealous because I make glasses sexy, and it must suck to not be me.