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I'm always a mess. I can never keep my own secrets. I laugh too hard at stupid things. My favorite songs make me cry. I live in the past, in the memories I have with the people I love. I hate thinking about reality and I'm homesick that it's not even funny. But, not homesick in a missing my house kind of way... More like heartsick for all the things I can't get back. Its hard for me to define myself. I guess I'm just a cliche--the girl who loved too hard and didn't get anything in return. I don't want to be the heroine in some tragic love story, I just want the one person who has never given me a second thought...