I wanted to tell you EVERY single one of my secrets...but you became one instead.

I have learned that there are two types of secrets; those we keep from others, and those we keeps from ourselves.

I'm the author of my life. Unfortunately I'm writing in pen and cannot erase my mistakes...
Everyone's got a story, and I refuse to end mine now...

&&every night she cries herself to sleep knowing that *no one* will ever understand why...

And always remember that those cracks you see in the sidewalk are simply reminders that you can fall apart no matter how strong you are.

When I'm on my own it doesn't matter if I cry :[