say you're sorry;

When are you going to grow up. When are you going to man up. When are you going to own up to everything. To lying. To leading me on. When are you going to give me a straight forward answer. Just tell me. Do you want to be with me or not because I'm tired of sitting here and asking myself that over and over again. It's simple. Do you like me or not? Do you want to be with me or not? Just answer the god damn question already because I'm bored of it. I believed in you. Everyone told me "don't get involved with him" "he's a player" "he'll make you think he likes you and then stop talking to you". And I wanted you to prove them wrong so badly. Not just for me. But for yourself too. When are you going to start taking yourself seriously. Because until then, no one will. I could sit around and make up scenarios of how perfect everything would be if we were together. How well it would work out. How well we could make it work out. But quite frankly; it's getting old. And I'm done pretending. The thing that killing me is that I normally get what I want... but no matter what I can't have you. Atleast not all of you.

Let's be straight forward;

I've realized that no matter how many times I tell myself that I'm over it, I'm really not. So whenever I tell myself "I'm over it", I kind of silently laugh at myself. Because who am I kidding? I'll never be fully over it until I know for a fact that everything wasn't really. That he didn't or doesn't feel the same way I do. My dilemma; getting him to be serious and realize that his man whore days are over. He still thinks that he can be a little skeez bag but not sir! Not with me. Because I'm done with those kinds of guys. The things he says throw me off too. "You might get something else but I don't know yet". That could be so many things. A ring. A high five. A hug. Him. An elbow to the face. I could go on for days.

I never said I'd lie and wait forever;

The truth is, I might just wait forever. But will you? The more I talk to him, the more I feel like I'm handing myself over to him. He makes everything feel so..wrong. So right... Right? A few weeks ago everything was untangled. Solved. Figured out. Now, I'm back to day one. Confused. Lost. Unsure. So unsure that it makes me sick. Physically and mentally. I'm sick of being lied to. I'm sick of him not returning my phone calls. I'm sick of him getting in trouble. I'm sick of not knowing what's happening with me and him. I really don't know. I don't know if we're talking..or if we're just friends. I don't know because he's just as unsure as I am. Get it together Marine and show me...show me that I'm not wasting my time. As a mater of fact show yourself, because I already know what my intentions are..do you? That's right. You don't. Because you don't take the time out to figure it out. Just listen for two seconds. Snap out of it. Stop being a little boy and man up. Because the last thing I need right now is a little boy to lead me down the wrong road. I've got everything I need right now..everything I could ask for. I've got it all figured out. It was breeze. A cinch. I can look at someone, talk to them for a few minutes, and know how to tear them down. How to build them up. How to help them. How to save them. What it would take to save them. Where they're going. Where they never want to go...but the second I hear your voice, the second you say one thing to me..it sounds like a lie. Not a lie, but not the full truth. Like you're putting up this gigantic wall. And for what? To keep me out? To keep yourself in? To lock yourself in so tight that no one can get to you? Let me in. Please let me in. Because I may say I could wait for forever..but I say a lot of things... Let me in before you have to leave. Because once you leave, you may never come home. You may never have the chance to let anyone in ever again.

I've been having second thoughts;

I’m not a baby. I’m not too young. I’m quite mature for my age..or so I’ve been told. I have my momments where I act like a child. Throw a fit to get my way. Pout. Cry. Laugh. Run around. Act ridiculous. Regardless, I don’t believe there should be an age limit on anything (most things). “You’re to young to: date him, get married, fall in love, stay home alone, take the car out for the night” the list could go on forever until I typed my fingers to a bloody stub. The point is who are you to tell me that based on my age I’m not capable of doing something. I’ll tell you who; you’re nobody. So get out of my way. I’m 16, and I’m going to do what I thinks best for me… now excuse me while I go rob a bank.

Don't judge me; I'll be the judge of that.

quite Frankly; I’d like to meet the man behind the uniform. I want you to be able to open up to me. I want to be the one you come to when you need someone to talk to. When something good happens to you. When you can’t take anymore. When your don’t feel like talking. When you have so much to tell me you don’t know where to start. When you miss me. When you’re angry at the world; at anyone. I want to know you more then I do now. Tell me your dreams, tell me your biggest fears, tell me about the time when you were young and you ran away from home, tell me where you wanna go…where you’re going. Because that’s where I want to be.

So I pulled the plug.

I cried today. It's dark out. Rainy..perfect days for crying. I was sitting thinking to myself about everything. Mostly Frank. Thoughts kept coming into my head "what if I'm not the only one" "what if the reason he doesn't call me is because he's on the phone with someone else" "what if the only time I run through his mind is when I'm on the phone with him or I text him". That last one I thought about for a while. I'm sitting here in Florida. Head over heals. Completely crazy about this kid, and I can't confirm in my head that he thinks about me ever. Not a second of the day goes by when he's not the main topic in my head. That or he's runner up. 24/7. All the time. Frank, Frank, Frank, Frank, Frank, Frank, Frank. This is becoming a problem for me...should it be. Am I doing that thing again where I think to much? I do that a lot. To much actually. Freeing my mind in the form of doodles. A few things I need to fix: I always text him first in fear that he won't text me. And I'd rather look desperate and/or obsessed then not talk to him at all. Another common thought that runs through my head is "what if he doesn't make it home"...and then I snap out of it before I let that thought crawl deep in my head and consume my brain and everything else in there. It's done it many a time before.

I miss the pull of your heart.

I roll over, stretch, open my eyes...and he's laying next to me. Right there. I didn't believe it. I touch his face...he's there. It's him. I go to say something, but nothing comes out. He smiles. And kisses me. I get closer to him. My heads on his chest. Taking in what I can, while I can. Remembering what it feels like to be with him. His smell. The way he tastes. His smile. The way his eyes look at me. The way his hands hold me. I run my finger over the tattoo on him arm. Then the one on his chest. My hearts in my throat. My breathing is steady. He puts his hand under my chin and lifts my head until I'm looking into his eyes. He kisses me again. He flips me over and he's laying on top of me. He pushes himself up and kisses me again. And again.. and some more. He rolls over next to me. We're laying face to face. I go to say something again, and he puts his finger to my lip, chuckles, and kisses me again. I, once again, put my head on his chest. I fall asleep for a few minutes. Then I go to grab my phone..it's his ring tone. I open it to make the ringing stop and throw it aside. I roll over, stretch, open my eyes...and he's gone. "I hate that I can't be with you when I want too. I miss you babe" Sometimes I think they do it on purpose. My dreams. To show me what I could have. To show me what life would be like if he didn't have to be away. It felt so real though. I really could feel him under me. I really could smell him. I could taste him. Fell the warmth of his breath. The warmth of his touch. It was all there, but he wasn't. I'm happy that I can have dreams like this. Dreams that make reality a joke. But whenever I roll over, stretch, and open my eyes...I want him to really be there.