<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3727250</id><updated>2011-04-21T14:47:54.113-04:00</updated><title type='text'>white it out like glittering wax butterflies</title><subtitle type='html'>mindless banter used to fill up half empty notebooks.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://megmegan.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3727250/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://megmegan.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>megmegan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01958384549190297579</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>38</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3727250.post-93448682</id><published>2003-04-29T01:43:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2003-04-29T01:43:14.130-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>hi&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3727250-93448682?l=megmegan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3727250/posts/default/93448682'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3727250/posts/default/93448682'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://megmegan.blogspot.com/2003_04_27_archive.html#93448682' title=''/><author><name>megmegan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01958384549190297579</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3727250.post-84993076</id><published>2002-11-23T22:57:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-11-23T22:57:08.540-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>i hate you&lt;br /&gt;     i lied (i love you)&lt;br /&gt;you don't even know the half of it&lt;br /&gt;or even a quarter for that matter&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i love you&lt;br /&gt;     i lied (i hate you)&lt;br /&gt;you used to kiss me everytime i said something cute&lt;br /&gt;now you don't kiss me at all&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i want you&lt;br /&gt;     (i lust for you)&lt;br /&gt;endless nights are spent&lt;br /&gt;solely thinking about you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you love me&lt;br /&gt;     what's the truth?  (i don't actually know)&lt;br /&gt;i make you indecisive&lt;br /&gt;you think i'll be the death of you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;what's the truth of the matter?&lt;br /&gt;     (i probably will)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3727250-84993076?l=megmegan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3727250/posts/default/84993076'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3727250/posts/default/84993076'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://megmegan.blogspot.com/2002_11_17_archive.html#84993076' title=''/><author><name>megmegan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01958384549190297579</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3727250.post-84993002</id><published>2002-11-23T22:54:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-11-23T22:54:45.430-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>honey, honey&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;open your eyes&lt;br /&gt;and close your mouth&lt;br /&gt;could you for once feel what i feel?&lt;br /&gt;share an ounce of sympathy?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;honey, honey&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you're killing me deep inside&lt;br /&gt;you ripped my heart right out&lt;br /&gt;my body trampled&lt;br /&gt;oh, how i bleed for you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;honey, honey&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;love me once&lt;br /&gt;don't kill me twice&lt;br /&gt;you promised you'd change&lt;br /&gt;men lie&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;honey, honey&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;say good bye&lt;br /&gt;turn around&lt;br /&gt;and walk away&lt;br /&gt;i'm finally through with you&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3727250-84993002?l=megmegan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3727250/posts/default/84993002'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3727250/posts/default/84993002'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://megmegan.blogspot.com/2002_11_17_archive.html#84993002' title=''/><author><name>megmegan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01958384549190297579</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3727250.post-84851518</id><published>2002-11-20T23:06:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-11-20T23:06:42.876-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;stop.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;come over.&lt;br /&gt;put your stuff on the table.&lt;br /&gt;drop your pants.&lt;br /&gt;talk to me in a low voice.&lt;br /&gt;rock my world..&lt;br /&gt;or at least try to. ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you don't know what you do to me,&lt;br /&gt;baby.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3727250-84851518?l=megmegan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3727250/posts/default/84851518'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3727250/posts/default/84851518'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://megmegan.blogspot.com/2002_11_17_archive.html#84851518' title=''/><author><name>megmegan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01958384549190297579</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3727250.post-84851409</id><published>2002-11-20T23:04:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-11-20T23:04:06.810-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>remember last december?&lt;br /&gt;the freezing air nipping at our noses?&lt;br /&gt;snow gently drifted from the sky&lt;br /&gt;a white blanket coated the ground&lt;br /&gt;our foot steps made impressions in it.&lt;br /&gt;you took my hand&lt;br /&gt;and under the moon lit sky and in the crisp air&lt;br /&gt;you kissed me-&lt;br /&gt;our first kiss.&lt;br /&gt;did you close your eyes as you pulled me closer?  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3727250-84851409?l=megmegan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3727250/posts/default/84851409'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3727250/posts/default/84851409'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://megmegan.blogspot.com/2002_11_17_archive.html#84851409' title=''/><author><name>megmegan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01958384549190297579</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3727250.post-84851342</id><published>2002-11-20T23:02:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-11-20T23:02:24.886-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>i wrapped my arms around you and didn't ever want to pry myself from your's.  so this is what good bye felt like.  and when is the next time i'll see you?  we really can't keep doing this to ourselves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you stood on the platform and watched me crawl slowly into the backseat of the car.  tears were already forming in my eyes, trying their hardest to escape and cross the thresh hold.  i wouldn't let them fall.  i looked at you outside of the window.  you smiled and waved.  i blew kisses to you, the car started to pull away.  you moved with the car, never breaking eye contact with me and continuously waving until we were just another car passing through the dark, under the street lights and the low hum of the busy city.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i missed you already.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;headlights from cars passing by blinded me.  the loud stereo and the speaker blaring next to my ear had nothing on all the commotion in my head.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i hated leaving you.  i hated saying good bye.  i hated not knowing when i was going to see you again.  i hated the sudden emptiness that crept into my body and bore its way into my heart.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i bet you never knew.. that you were my all.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3727250-84851342?l=megmegan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3727250/posts/default/84851342'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3727250/posts/default/84851342'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://megmegan.blogspot.com/2002_11_17_archive.html#84851342' title=''/><author><name>megmegan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01958384549190297579</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3727250.post-84158983</id><published>2002-11-07T01:29:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2002-11-07T01:29:39.863-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>dear you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;for some reason i'm having a really hard time trying to stop thinking about what we discussed at your friend's house.. and everytime i think about it.. it hurts. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sometimes.. when i think about you, i almost think about you in a superhuman form.. because you're always around for me, and feel like you'll be around forever. and whenever i'm having a bad day (or a bad month) i can always come to you, and you're like a rock for me to lean on. and it's hard for me to think that you could even possibly have the same feelings as me.. because i see you as being that way. and i realize this is obviously wrong of me. because you're entitled to feel any way you want to feel. or maybe, don't want to feel.. but do feel. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it's just really upsetting to me, to know that you feel sad.. and that you have all these negative thoughts surrounding yourself. because when i look at you, and you tell me these things, from my point of view, they seem completely unjustified.. because i see you as this incredibly amazing person. you're smart, you're funny, and intelligent, talented, and handsome, and you're definitely a great friend. i consider you one of my best. and speaking in a strictly platonic way.. i love you more than you'll ever know.. you mean soo much to me. and every second that you feel bad, i just want to be there and hug you, and tell you that things will be all right. because i know they will. and i know you'll get through this. and i know that it's tough, but it can happen. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i called my mom tonight, to talk about it. because i'm worried. and maybe i'm overreacting.. but i don't want to just sit around.. and wait for something to happen. and when i was talking to her, i started to cry about it. and if i may be selfish.. then don't do anything to hurt yourself, for me (if not for yourself).. because i don't know what i'd do without you. and mom said that she loves you.. and she thinks that you're a very unique person.. and that she liked you instantly from the first moment she met you, because you were out going, and had a great personality.. and 2935729357 more compliments that maybe aren't worth taking up your time to mention (unless you would actually care to know, in which case you can call and ask her.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i feel as though this email is just about long enough now.. and it's not even the quantity that i care about.. i just want you to know that i care about you very deeply.. and that, if you should EVER need to talk to anyone, about anything.. please, please call me. any time of the day.. any hour of the night. don't hesitate. and if i'm not home.. leave a message and i'll call you back the second i walk in. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i love you. and i'm sorry if i've made you cry at all throughout this.. because i know i haven't stopped since the second i started writing it. :) please take care.. and i'll try to talk to you soon. &lt;3&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3727250-84158983?l=megmegan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3727250/posts/default/84158983'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3727250/posts/default/84158983'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://megmegan.blogspot.com/2002_11_03_archive.html#84158983' title=''/><author><name>megmegan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01958384549190297579</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3727250.post-83336255</id><published>2002-10-22T00:45:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2002-10-22T00:45:44.476-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>my thoughts and feelings are poured out endlessly at the tip of this pen onto this blindingly white paper. and i have you to thank for half of it. because at most times you're inescapable. this pen bleeds red like my heart bleeds for you. for you to notice me, for you to love me, for you to forget her and only know me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i've spent my entire life pining over those that i can't have, and won't have. i thought i knew of love, turns out all i know of is &lt;i&gt;unrequited &lt;/i&gt;love. and everybody knows that's no way to love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;there are a million things i'd like to tell you and a million things that you won't hear. there are a thousand places i would like to touch you, and a billion memories i'd like to make with you, but you're not one to give me a chance. hundreds of things you'll never know and you'll never see because you won't let me show you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i can look in your eyes and see your passion and see your innocence, but you don't let anyone in. you won't let me explore them. you cover it all up and build up this wall so that you don't get hurt.. don't you know that that wall is making you dead inside. and sometimes we need to feel that hurt to put us back in our positions. maybe you don't want to know that.. maybe you're perfectly happy knowing you're half way dead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;god, i don't know what you're scared of. i don't know why you let me in little by little and then push me completely out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"hearts are broken everyday."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it's not fair that you don't care for me half as much as i do for you. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3727250-83336255?l=megmegan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3727250/posts/default/83336255'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3727250/posts/default/83336255'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://megmegan.blogspot.com/2002_10_20_archive.html#83336255' title=''/><author><name>megmegan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01958384549190297579</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3727250.post-83336236</id><published>2002-10-22T00:45:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-10-22T00:45:18.306-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>i'm afraid of falling in love too quickly&lt;br /&gt;i'm afraid of loving him so much more than he would ever love me&lt;br /&gt;i'm afraid of having my heart broken&lt;br /&gt;i'm afraid of caring and not getting that in return&lt;br /&gt;i'm afraid of opening up for fear that i'll get hurt&lt;br /&gt;i'm afraid of never getting over you&lt;br /&gt;i'm afraid to take chances&lt;br /&gt;i'm afraid that i'll never be in love&lt;br /&gt;i'm afraid that i'll be alone for the rest of my life&lt;br /&gt;i'm afraid that i'm doomed to be a failure in every way possible for a person to be a failure&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;i'm afraid, that i'll never be happy.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3727250-83336236?l=megmegan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3727250/posts/default/83336236'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3727250/posts/default/83336236'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://megmegan.blogspot.com/2002_10_20_archive.html#83336236' title=''/><author><name>megmegan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01958384549190297579</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3727250.post-82724818</id><published>2002-10-09T00:33:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-10-09T00:33:38.820-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>i'm not trying anymore because this has all become a trite expression not worth more than that of 'unrequited love.'  and i hate you for the things you put me through and multiply that hate by 10 because you don't even &lt;i&gt;know&lt;/i&gt; what you put me through.  i guess now, a broken heart is all i have to offer you or anyone for that matter.  and just because your heart was torn doesn't mean you had to impart the same hostility on mine.  i thought you were a god-send and you turned out to be no better than the devil in blue suede shoes.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3727250-82724818?l=megmegan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3727250/posts/default/82724818'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3727250/posts/default/82724818'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://megmegan.blogspot.com/2002_10_06_archive.html#82724818' title=''/><author><name>megmegan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01958384549190297579</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3727250.post-82723847</id><published>2002-10-09T00:10:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-10-09T00:10:09.606-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>and i don't know what to do.  i'm so caught in the middle.  so stuck in between.  because i wanna be with you, but you don't wanna be with me.  we drift apart and then drift together and then you push me away.  i can't keep letting myself get trampled on.  i'm tired of you walking all over me and not even realizing it.  and it saddens and it sickens me to think and to know that i go out of my way to please you.. and you don't even &lt;i&gt;care&lt;/i&gt; if you please me.  so please, put my heart on a silver platter and serve it for dinner. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it's not worth more than the price of dog food.  thanx to you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3727250-82723847?l=megmegan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3727250/posts/default/82723847'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3727250/posts/default/82723847'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://megmegan.blogspot.com/2002_10_06_archive.html#82723847' title=''/><author><name>megmegan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01958384549190297579</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3727250.post-82519311</id><published>2002-10-04T11:35:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-10-23T00:44:01.000-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>my eyes burn, and my stomach aches.. i feel like i've lost something. like i've lost everything. and like nothing will ever be whole again. or even decent for that matter. and i can't shake the feeling that i've fucked something up with you, and that things are going to stay this way forever. and i can't stand it, because it makes me want to die. to know that i've hurt you, and that you've hurt me. and that we're both dying inside. and i want to reach out, and just hold you.. but you won't. you won't let me. you won't return the favor. and i'm tired of screaming because you don't hear it. and i can't whisper anymore. and my body's about to give out because there's a hole where my heart is supposed to be. you've taken everything, and you've left me with absolutely nothing. &lt;b&gt;now i've got nothing. &lt;/b&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3727250-82519311?l=megmegan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3727250/posts/default/82519311'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3727250/posts/default/82519311'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://megmegan.blogspot.com/2002_09_29_archive.html#82519311' title=''/><author><name>megmegan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01958384549190297579</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3727250.post-82352987</id><published>2002-10-01T02:20:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-10-01T02:20:06.496-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>i see myself staying up late nights in my college dorm, waiting and waiting for you to come and stay the night with me. and sometimes you'll spend the entire weekend. then on sunday when it's time for you to leave, we're standing outside, next to your car, freezing to death. and i kiss you and you hold me for a minute. you turn around to open the door to your car and get in. i grab your arm and my eyes well up. and i say, "don't go, not yet. please just stay with me one more night." your eyes bore into mine and you touch my cheek and pull me close to you. my face is against your chest and i start to cry. my tears make dark spots on your shirt. your arms are keeping me safe and warm, sheltering me from the cold air. you kiss the top of my head, and i sob. "i can't stand this distance," i say. "i know baby. it'll get better, it's only a few more months until i'm here with you," you said to calm me down. "a few more months that i don't know if i can handle," i said. "listen," you said and pushed my chin up with your thumb, "i'll stay with you tonight, but i've got to leave first thing in the morning when you get up for class." i dried my eyes a little and smiled. you kissed me and held my hand back to the dorm. i didn't let you out of my grasp the night. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3727250-82352987?l=megmegan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3727250/posts/default/82352987'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3727250/posts/default/82352987'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://megmegan.blogspot.com/2002_09_29_archive.html#82352987' title=''/><author><name>megmegan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01958384549190297579</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3727250.post-82075359</id><published>2002-09-24T22:50:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-09-24T22:50:53.160-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>the details of the first night that we met are becoming a little foggy now.  and i really wish i could remember everything.  because whether or not you and i were prefect for each other or perfect together, that night truly was one of the most perfect i've ever experienced.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the staring at each other from across the room the entire night, watching you perform on that little stage and then the moment we finally talked.  you sat next to me on those bleachers and we talked, barely making eye contact.  we were so nervous.  i complimented you on your show, and you said you liked my glasses.  when it was finally time to leave you said goodbye, and held my hand, then walked away looking at me and still holding my hand until it was just our fingers and then our fingertips, and finally my hand dropped from yours back into the air and then on my lap.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sometimes i'd like to block out all those long nights that i drove around to see you.  to just see you play and then to only talk for a few minutes before having to leave.  but those definitely were some of the best nights of my life..  nights that i may very well never forget.  the youth, the innocence, the puppy love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;even you have to admit those were some of our best and most memorable times&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sometimes i think i'm gonna explode, i miss you so much.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3727250-82075359?l=megmegan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3727250/posts/default/82075359'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3727250/posts/default/82075359'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://megmegan.blogspot.com/2002_09_22_archive.html#82075359' title=''/><author><name>megmegan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01958384549190297579</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3727250.post-81220333</id><published>2002-09-05T23:48:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-10-23T00:43:26.000-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>i poked my head out the window to watch you pump gas into the car.  i looked at you with those eyes.  you know the ones, where i'm completely happy and completely in love.  you looked at me watching you.  you smiled.  i grinned and put my hand out to hold yours for a second.  you went to pay and came back and kissed my forehead.  i was truly happy.  you could see it in everything that was me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;this was our first trip away together, just the two of us.  and i'd had the most amazing time with you.  sharing my bed with you and stealing kisses every chance we could.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i looked at you while you were driving and reached my hand up to your neck.  i rustled with your hair for a moment and then started to massage your neck with my fingertips.  i wondered what you were thinking about.  and how you felt.  i wondered if you'd had as good of a time as i had.  and if you loved me even half as much as i loved you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you switched hands on the steering wheel and placed your free hand on my knee.  then slid it up to my thigh.  you showed your affection in such sweet ways.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;god, i never wanted this to end.  i wanted to be on vacation with you forever.  driving through those empty back roads of the new england states in the fall.  the leaves changing all around us.  the weather was cool and steady.  perfect, and just the way i loved it.  and we shared that sleeping bag in the middle of the woods next to that small fire you'd built.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;things were finally starting to feel &lt;b&gt;perfect &lt;/b&gt;again.  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3727250-81220333?l=megmegan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3727250/posts/default/81220333'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3727250/posts/default/81220333'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://megmegan.blogspot.com/2002_09_01_archive.html#81220333' title=''/><author><name>megmegan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01958384549190297579</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3727250.post-81219974</id><published>2002-09-05T23:39:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-09-05T23:39:26.890-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>remember last october and how wonderful things were?  and the many nights we spent on the swings in the park up the road?  i felt 8 again.  not a care in the world.  everything was completely perfect.  i had you, and you had me.  and i remember walking through the woods, my hand buried in yours.  we'd get to that spot, right in the middle, where it was all cleared out and we'd look up the sky.  the trees surrounding us and the stars and great moon watching us overhead.  i miss those chilly nights, when you would gently touch my cheek and brush my hair away from my face before kissing me sweetly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;in those days, i didn't need anything but you to make me happy and keep me happy.  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3727250-81219974?l=megmegan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3727250/posts/default/81219974'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3727250/posts/default/81219974'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://megmegan.blogspot.com/2002_09_01_archive.html#81219974' title=''/><author><name>megmegan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01958384549190297579</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3727250.post-81019591</id><published>2002-09-02T01:38:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-09-02T01:38:25.290-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>i really wish that at the snap of my fingers i could forget about you, and push all these feelings for you aside.  because you apparently didn't have a hard time doing so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and i wish that we could go back to the start and take things a little mroe slowly.  i'd do a lot of things differently to try and make this work out.  to try and avoid all the bad and welcome all the good. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i really wish that i hadn't wasted my time chasing you down only to end up with a broken heart.  and if i would have known that this was going to happen, i'd have taken back the first words i said to you.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you were never good enough to me.  and maybe that's because you had other things (and people) on your mind, and i just didn't matter as much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i thought things were good there for a while, and i was suddenly optimistic that this was gonna work out.  and for once it wouldn't be tales of heartbreak filling up my journal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i do regret staying up endless nights just to talk to  you for even five minutes.  and how much it killed me when you'd go away and i knew i wouldn't get to talk to you.  for some reason, my day just wasn't complete until i'd spoken to you even about the dumbest things possible.  all i know is that i had the worst days of my life when i didn't get to speak to you.  and now this is becoming an everyday occurance.  you avoiding me or ignoring me.  i'm not sure that you know it hurts me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it hurts me ever more so though, when you talk about the other girl.  it hurts to know that you like her so much more than you could ever like me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and i guess maybe i shouldn't base my life around you and the things you do.  maybe it's time for me to get my own life and move out from behind your shadow.  because all it's doing is breaking me down from the inside out in the long run.  and it's not like you'd even care.  it's not like you'd even want to hear about any emotion you caused me to have.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and i'm tired.  and i'm emotionally drained.  and i just can't do this anymore, or feel this anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm not sure if this is "good bye" or if this is "i'll talk to you soon and when i'm all better."  but i do know that i don't want to hear about her anymore and about how she's breaking your heart, and how you can't sleep at night without talking to her for a minute.  beacuse i'd kill for you to just know you're doing the exact same thing to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;maybe it doesn't feel much better to know that you finally know this.  so fuck you for liking the wrong person, cause i could be the world to you.  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3727250-81019591?l=megmegan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3727250/posts/default/81019591'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3727250/posts/default/81019591'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://megmegan.blogspot.com/2002_09_01_archive.html#81019591' title=''/><author><name>megmegan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01958384549190297579</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3727250.post-80679837</id><published>2002-08-25T01:43:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-08-25T01:43:04.720-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I lied to you and said that I’d be alright.  Simple explanation because my life’s not supposed to revolve around you.  Somehow, though, everything comes right back to you.  And how I can change things so that I can be with you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I lied to you and said that I’d be fine with this.  Because maybe I actually thought I would be, or maybe I was only telling myself that because I was scared of letting you go.  And I’m still scared of letting you go.  Time sure doesn’t make me stronger, or this stronger.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The minutes are passing like days, and the days are passing like months.  There aren’t enough months in a year.   Sometimes I miss you like you’ll be here tomorrow.  Like things had never changed, and you’d never left me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You lied and told me this would last.  That we could stand the test of time (and distance).  You lied and said you would never hurt me (and you broke my fucking heart).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I was kidding myself about you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3727250-80679837?l=megmegan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3727250/posts/default/80679837'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3727250/posts/default/80679837'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://megmegan.blogspot.com/2002_08_25_archive.html#80679837' title=''/><author><name>megmegan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01958384549190297579</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3727250.post-80679827</id><published>2002-08-25T01:42:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2002-08-25T01:42:44.310-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I never knew I could get so close to someone so quickly.  If only you knew.  If only I could tell you.  I think it’d change everything, but probably not for the better.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I knew that saying goodbye would be hard, and believe me, I want to drop everything going for me, to just be by your side.  To be with you tomorrow.  And forever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I don’t want to see you go.  I’d be lying if I said I did.  I guess it’s time to play this distance game again.  I hope I can handle it this time.  I hope you still feel the same.  I hope things don’t change.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is it time yet?  Or soon enough?  To say our goodbyes?  I want to get this over with and forget for a while, and I won’t see you again for a few months.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don’t know if I have the patience to deal with all of this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3727250-80679827?l=megmegan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3727250/posts/default/80679827'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3727250/posts/default/80679827'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://megmegan.blogspot.com/2002_08_25_archive.html#80679827' title=''/><author><name>megmegan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01958384549190297579</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3727250.post-80679817</id><published>2002-08-25T01:42:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-08-25T01:42:26.686-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I wish sometimes that you would call me.  And wake me up in the middle of the night.  Only because you want to talk.  Because sometimes that’s what I need from you.  Some reassurance that everything is okay and everything is going to work out just fine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And at this point, it’s only a matter of days until you leave.  And I just wanted one last chance to say goodbye.  But I’m not so sure you can offer me that.  Or that you will offer me that.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’m relying on this whole dream (and the notion) that if and when I get there, things will be perfect for us, and work out just the way I’d imagined.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3727250-80679817?l=megmegan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3727250/posts/default/80679817'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3727250/posts/default/80679817'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://megmegan.blogspot.com/2002_08_25_archive.html#80679817' title=''/><author><name>megmegan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01958384549190297579</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3727250.post-80679760</id><published>2002-08-25T01:40:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-08-25T01:40:09.073-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I wanted him to come over and put his arms around me, and just hold me.  Hold me all night like the sun would never come up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And these precious moments would be all that we’ve got.  Curled up under the blankets.  Our breaths deep and warm.  His face pressed against mine.  He could feel me smile.  My ear on his chest.  I could hear his heart beat.  It was a thousand times slower than mine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to live like this forever.  And forget that in no time at all, it’s going to be ripped away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It makes me sick that we have to say goodbye this way.  So soon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’ll miss every waking moment I spent with you.  These weeks have flown by, and things were too rushed.  I’ll never forget these times.  Not in a million years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3727250-80679760?l=megmegan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3727250/posts/default/80679760'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3727250/posts/default/80679760'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://megmegan.blogspot.com/2002_08_25_archive.html#80679760' title=''/><author><name>megmegan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01958384549190297579</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3727250.post-80679738</id><published>2002-08-25T01:39:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-08-25T01:39:01.806-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>i'm realizing now that i'm sick of all these mind games that we play.. and i want to go back 8 years.. when things were easy. when things, and people like you, didn't matter.. you're always saying that you're the one who always gets hurt.. who never gets the girl.. well, in this case, if the girl were me, you would have had her. from the beginning.. you didn't even have to say two words and i was already putty in your hands. maybe you took advantage of that.. maybe you took advantage of me. maybe this just wasn't meant to be. i should have read the signs posted all the way along.. "you're headed for heartbreak." "don't let him break you down." "don't get too attached." and yes, i thought i was careful this time. i thought things would be perfect. i built myself up.. for disaster that is. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and maybe i'm just a little scared. of what? that maybe i'll never find that true love.. that one. that one person who does it all for me. the one who steals my breath, and makes my heart beat faster, the one who completes my sentences and shares all the same thoughts. that fairy tale love.. that fairy tale romance. the one i've dreamt of since i was a girl. the love at first sight.. the one i'm guaranteed to be with forever and always.. but, there are no guarantees in life. and definitely no guarantees in love. but you were the closest thing to real that i've ever had. the closest thing to perfect. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i still dream of those endless nights. countless hours, sitting on that dock, watching the sun go down and the moon rise. the warm water between our toes. the chilly air covering our skin with goose bumps. do you remember those nights? of deep conversation. of shared love? that's how i'd like to remember you.. like to remember what we had.. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3727250-80679738?l=megmegan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3727250/posts/default/80679738'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3727250/posts/default/80679738'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://megmegan.blogspot.com/2002_08_25_archive.html#80679738' title=''/><author><name>megmegan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01958384549190297579</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3727250.post-80679709</id><published>2002-08-25T01:38:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-08-25T01:38:16.900-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>heh. where to begin.. sometimes i wish that you would spend nights with me as incredible as the one i had tonight. good music, great conversation, beautiful skies and amazing weather. but it seems as though everytime something as amazing as tonight comes around.. &lt;i&gt;you're &lt;/i&gt;never around. and maybe you're around physically, but never emotionally. you'll sit there but you won't partake in the wondrousness that was this evening. maybe you don't know that it'd mean the world to me if you'd just be by my side for two hours while lying on that dock under a blanket, our feet dangling in the water and making wishes on shooting stars. can't you ever just give me something great to fill these empty pages with? vs the empty gestures and meaningless words that fill your mouth and don't even come close to touching my heart? you think that once you'd be good to me and i'd be good enough for you to spend just two hours out of your so called hectic schedule. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'm really tired of doing things your way, and always ending up hurt. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3727250-80679709?l=megmegan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3727250/posts/default/80679709'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3727250/posts/default/80679709'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://megmegan.blogspot.com/2002_08_25_archive.html#80679709' title=''/><author><name>megmegan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01958384549190297579</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3727250.post-80679687</id><published>2002-08-25T01:37:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2002-08-25T01:37:39.853-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>nights like these i lie on the couch in the living room with the curtains open, waiting for cars to pull up in the driveway, the headlights lighting up the room. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and i was hoping that you'd call me tonight.. no matter what time. i just longed to hear your voice. i needed someone to talk to. not that i can ever rely on you for much. unless it concerns you in some way.. you really have no idea what you mean to me. you said, "welcome to my world." and i was hoping i'd get to spend the rest of my breathing days there. with you. but i suppose it's no use. you'd never love me the way that i love you. you'd never call me when i need you. or spend endless hours talking to me about countless different things. and that's what i need right now. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3727250-80679687?l=megmegan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3727250/posts/default/80679687'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3727250/posts/default/80679687'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://megmegan.blogspot.com/2002_08_25_archive.html#80679687' title=''/><author><name>megmegan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01958384549190297579</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3727250.post-80679679</id><published>2002-08-25T01:37:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-08-25T01:37:09.710-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>and it became apparent to me that i thought all the wrong things, said all the wrong things and did all the wrong things.. and maybe now that means i won't try so hard, because i know how it feels now, and what the results yield. i really can't afford to lose you either. because you do mean so much to me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;maybe you've truly done everything in your power to push me away. and i just don't realize it because i'm too blind. or too naive. someday we'll probably blow up at each other and the truth will finally be revealed. i've always loved you, and you've never loved me. and god how i wish there was something i could do to protect myself from that exact moment. because i know all too well what it'll feel like, i've felt it a million times. a punch in the stomach, my knees kicked in and my heart ripped out. my eyes will overflow with tears. i'll make another (unkept) promise to myself. not to set myself up for disaster because i do it all the time. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so maybe i just thought you were different and yet you're all too familiar. some things will never change. like this endless cycle of broken hearts and shattered dreams. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;someday, you'll understand exactly what i'm saying. you won't always be the heart breaker. and i won't always be the heart breakee. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3727250-80679679?l=megmegan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3727250/posts/default/80679679'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3727250/posts/default/80679679'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://megmegan.blogspot.com/2002_08_25_archive.html#80679679' title=''/><author><name>megmegan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01958384549190297579</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3727250.post-80679621</id><published>2002-08-25T01:35:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-08-25T01:35:00.160-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>it's not like you could just say you're sorry and with that, the past two years and everything that came with them, would just disappear. and i could live them all over and things could be fantastic (and nothing less than that). everything began to go downhill from the moment i met you. from the first words spoken to the last kiss. i didn't know then that you were going to ruin my life, i didn't know then, that after you, nothing would be perfect again (or even good). you should have never meant that much to me. or this much to me. or ANYTHING to me. because i never did to you. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3727250-80679621?l=megmegan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3727250/posts/default/80679621'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3727250/posts/default/80679621'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://megmegan.blogspot.com/2002_08_25_archive.html#80679621' title=''/><author><name>megmegan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01958384549190297579</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3727250.post-80679580</id><published>2002-08-25T01:33:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2002-08-25T01:33:38.206-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>and the regrets are too much (so much) that i'm not sure if i'm able to forgive you (or myself) for everything that happened. times will never be the exact same (or even close) but i was hoping none the less that things could be good (or even decent). can't you see the indecisiveness in my eyes (or actions, or words) or anything for that matter? i'm so back and forth with you (so stuck in between). everything you've ever said (or didn't say) is meaningless. you never meant anything (or held on to it too strongly). and i'm not sure what i got myself into this time. but i'm about to get myself out. it's just too much (to forgive and forget). &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3727250-80679580?l=megmegan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3727250/posts/default/80679580'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3727250/posts/default/80679580'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://megmegan.blogspot.com/2002_08_25_archive.html#80679580' title=''/><author><name>megmegan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01958384549190297579</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3727250.post-80679568</id><published>2002-08-25T01:33:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-08-25T01:33:20.003-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>i want you to hug me (hold me) like you did that night. mid-july, under the stars and canopying trees. globe lights lit up the street. there we stood, in front of the coffee shop. other people around, not that they mattered (or noticed). &lt;i&gt;you were amazing &lt;/i&gt;i thought. &lt;i&gt;tonight when you were in there baring your soul and playing your heart out. &lt;/i&gt;i looked in your eyes, &lt;i&gt;beautiful&lt;/i&gt;, i thought, &lt;i&gt;what i wouldn't give to be here forever.. with you&lt;/i&gt;. suddenly i felt a drop of rain on my nose. you grabbed my hand and pulled me under the roof to escape the down pour. we didn't move from that position. you still had my hand in yours, our arms pressed against one another's. not a word was said. my heart pounding was enough to speak for the both of us. "it's beautiful tonight," you broke the silence. "yeah," i paused, "and you were incredible." i looked at you and bit my lip. you let go of my hand, one hand was on my cheek and the other in my hair when you lowered your face to kiss me. your lips caressed mine and i got goosebumps all over my body. i touched your face, rubbing your stubble under my thumb. you pulled away and my hands moved to your upper arms. you smiled and took hold of my hand again. and there we stood. under the roof, watching the rain drops glow by the light of the moon. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3727250-80679568?l=megmegan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3727250/posts/default/80679568'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3727250/posts/default/80679568'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://megmegan.blogspot.com/2002_08_25_archive.html#80679568' title=''/><author><name>megmegan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01958384549190297579</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3727250.post-80679487</id><published>2002-08-25T01:30:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-08-25T01:30:06.640-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>fuck you for always making me feel this way. fuck you because i'm always hurting. fuck you because you're never around. fuck you for never caring for me the way i did for you. fuck you for letting me fall for you. fuck you for every emotion i ever felt. fuck you for making getting over you the hardest thing i've ever had to do. fuck you for always listening to me and never telling me the truth. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3727250-80679487?l=megmegan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3727250/posts/default/80679487'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3727250/posts/default/80679487'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://megmegan.blogspot.com/2002_08_25_archive.html#80679487' title=''/><author><name>megmegan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01958384549190297579</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3727250.post-80679475</id><published>2002-08-25T01:29:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2002-08-25T01:29:45.763-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>i don't know why i bother wasting my time on something that could never be. on something that could never happen. on someone who could never love me. and yet, i continue to wait up for him, night after night, to just say two words to him. two words that are virtually meaningless in a whole array of vivid vocabulary. and sometimes a day can feel like a lifetime, and a week can feel like eternity. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3727250-80679475?l=megmegan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3727250/posts/default/80679475'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3727250/posts/default/80679475'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://megmegan.blogspot.com/2002_08_25_archive.html#80679475' title=''/><author><name>megmegan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01958384549190297579</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3727250.post-80679463</id><published>2002-08-25T01:29:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-08-25T01:29:21.500-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>please gather every last scrap of paper. remember every last word i said. burn the bad days in your mind. forget all the fights and remember all the love. you, were my life, you were my love. where ever you're headed, if someone should ask of your love.. recover all those scraps, recite all those words, tell them of our love. never tell them of our loss. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3727250-80679463?l=megmegan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3727250/posts/default/80679463'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3727250/posts/default/80679463'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://megmegan.blogspot.com/2002_08_25_archive.html#80679463' title=''/><author><name>megmegan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01958384549190297579</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3727250.post-80679451</id><published>2002-08-25T01:28:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-08-25T01:28:51.340-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>you never had the words -or the balls- to tell me what you were thinking. or how you really felt. it's ridiculous when i think about it. every single day i could tell you i thought you were amazing. and i couldn't bare to spend a second without you. it was like pulling teeth -and few and far between- to just hear you say, "you look nice." so now what you're saying is supposed to change my mind? i'm supposed to just forget it all and forgive everything? everytime you made me angry? everytime you made me doubt myself? everytime you made me cry? &lt;b&gt;everytime.. you broke me down a little more. &lt;/b&gt;i was never good enough for you, and you were always good enough for me. now the tables have turned. "sorry," i said, "it's just too little..too late." &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3727250-80679451?l=megmegan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3727250/posts/default/80679451'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3727250/posts/default/80679451'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://megmegan.blogspot.com/2002_08_25_archive.html#80679451' title=''/><author><name>megmegan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01958384549190297579</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3727250.post-80679408</id><published>2002-08-25T01:27:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-08-25T01:27:32.496-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>a solitaire light lit the room. an up-light in the corner that cast a shadow on the rest of the room. under your covers, you were on top of me. you kissed me, sensually and brushed my hair away from my face. my hands reached across your back, trying endlessly to find the bottom of your shirt. finally.. you pushed yourself up for a second as i pulled your shirt over your head. you smiled sweetly and resumed. your hands started to roam. touching me deeply, your fingers were inside of me. you kissed me, your cheek was next to my mouth. my breath moistened your warm cheek. i could feel your skin lightly on my lips. i moaned, my body was instantly covered in goosebumps. i whispered, "(insert name), i'm ready." you stopped. "are you sure?" you asked. "yes," i whispered. you kissed my forehead, and for the first time in my life, you took me to a place of complete ecstasy. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3727250-80679408?l=megmegan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3727250/posts/default/80679408'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3727250/posts/default/80679408'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://megmegan.blogspot.com/2002_08_25_archive.html#80679408' title=''/><author><name>megmegan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01958384549190297579</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3727250.post-80679388</id><published>2002-08-25T01:26:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2002-08-25T01:26:57.170-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>the bridge looked incredible under the star filled blanket that was the night sky. the lights, each their own little globe, own universe, yellow in color, were visible even hundreds of miles away. in between each bridge segment, a tunnel, an empty void. at this exact moment, i wanted to strip of all my clothing and step in that freezing water. the tide was almost here, i'd have a hard time swimming against it. but just being at one with the ocean is all i need. i wanted to swim into that void and stay for eternity. my mind ventured to you for a moment. for you were the one underlying this all. you always were. and somehow i thought, i can't help how i feel. a tear crept into my eye. "i never meant to let you down," i whispered. you touched my face, and i pulled away. i brushed the sand out from between my toes. i looked into your eyes. "i'm sorry," i said, "i only want you to be happy." &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3727250-80679388?l=megmegan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3727250/posts/default/80679388'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3727250/posts/default/80679388'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://megmegan.blogspot.com/2002_08_25_archive.html#80679388' title=''/><author><name>megmegan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01958384549190297579</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3727250.post-80679375</id><published>2002-08-25T01:26:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-08-25T01:26:30.386-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>i looked at your face. in the glow of the screen. &lt;i&gt;penny for your thoughts&lt;/i&gt;, i thought. &lt;i&gt;you're incredible&lt;/i&gt;, &lt;i&gt;what are you doing with me? i was never worthy of someone and something so great. &lt;/i&gt;you turned, caught me staring at you. you made a half smile and came closer to kiss my forehead. i smiled. &lt;i&gt;god, he's so good to me. &lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3727250-80679375?l=megmegan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3727250/posts/default/80679375'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3727250/posts/default/80679375'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://megmegan.blogspot.com/2002_08_25_archive.html#80679375' title=''/><author><name>megmegan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01958384549190297579</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3727250.post-80679348</id><published>2002-08-25T01:25:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-08-25T01:25:25.416-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>you looked at me, and i turned and looked out the window. the wind blew the hair around my face. back. i looked at the sky. &lt;i&gt;i wonder what constellation that is. who am i kidding? i'm just trying to keep my mind off you until i can find the perfect words to tell you. &lt;/i&gt;"i like these car rides with you at night. they're so calming," as soon as i said it, i bit my tongue. &lt;i&gt;what are you thinking? he's going to think you're so weird. &lt;/i&gt;"me too. we should do it more often," you replied. i smiled. it's not like you could see. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3727250-80679348?l=megmegan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3727250/posts/default/80679348'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3727250/posts/default/80679348'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://megmegan.blogspot.com/2002_08_25_archive.html#80679348' title=''/><author><name>megmegan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01958384549190297579</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3727250.post-80679293</id><published>2002-08-25T01:23:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-08-25T01:23:52.650-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>make a wish. it's finally your turn. the time's 11:11 and this finally feels right. you and me. the open road. empty words fill our mouths. anything to just pass the time. to keep us together. nothing else matters, not the outside world. it's just you and me baby. i look out the window to the cars passing by. everytime there's a car with one headlight, i kiss my fingertips and touch the ceiling. i don't want you to see and think i'm silly. you're talking about something i'd never known until now. love. the worst, the most explicit of all 4 letter words. i dare not tell you what i think of love. or even you for that matter. it's 11:59. i'm tired. and wondering what i'm still doing with you. &lt;i&gt;are you as permanent as the stars? &lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3727250-80679293?l=megmegan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3727250/posts/default/80679293'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3727250/posts/default/80679293'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://megmegan.blogspot.com/2002_08_25_archive.html#80679293' title=''/><author><name>megmegan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01958384549190297579</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3727250.post-80679260</id><published>2002-08-25T01:22:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2002-08-25T01:22:49.413-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>sometimes when you say, "i love you," it's almost like you have to say it. sometimes when you say, "i love you," it's because you actually mean it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i miss our first kiss. our bodies full of adrenaline due to the anticipation of our lips touching for the very first time. remember when we used to lay in the grass and pick out formations in the clouds? and then run wild through the rain with our shoes off? not a care in the world. what i wouldn't give to be that age again. to be with you again. to have that innocence again. in that car, on the way to that big city, the one we'd always dreamt of with the bright lights and tall buildings, i remember not having a worry in the world. i was safe. bound in those metal doors, but more so safe, because i was with you.. because you were the one thing that was truly beautiful in my life. now it's all gone. nothing to say of those dead end roads, brake lights streaking red down the highway. the glow of those green signs, "your destination..30 miles." nothing more to say of those long talks or drawing i &lt;3 u on the dew covered windows. i miss, and i'll always miss, laying on the ground next to the lake, watching the sunset. silently. a word didn't need to be spoken. we knew what we were both thinking. i'll miss those nights full of imagination, full of passion. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i'll miss you. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3727250-80679260?l=megmegan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3727250/posts/default/80679260'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3727250/posts/default/80679260'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://megmegan.blogspot.com/2002_08_25_archive.html#80679260' title=''/><author><name>megmegan</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01958384549190297579</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry></feed>
