psychobuni

You wanted my heart.      I gave you my heart. You wanted me to be truthful.      I told you everything. You wanted me to love you.      I loved you. You wanted me to get better.      I'm getting better. You wanted me to be there for you.      I tried to be there for you as much as I can. You needed me to be perfect.      I tried my hardest to be perfect. Evidently I wasn't what you needed me to be.      Because you've tossed me in the trash.

When I was little, my dream house was huge. I still have a drawing of it. It had a roller coaster and a swimming pool and a big bedroom full of toys… As I grew older, I decided that I did not want that, and dreamed of something simpler. It wasn't until recently that I realized that I had already found my dream house. My parents bought our cabin when I was eight, and I hated it. It was musty, moldy, ugly and ancient, and you had to plug your nose while you were inside. My parents slowly began to make improvements: a wood floor, a light golden brown log siding, a dark green shingled roof, big rocks along the shore… It's a little

Jenna is six and in love with Peter. Peter and Jenna are best friends. They do everything together. When they play house, Jenna is Mom and Peter is Dad. Carlie and Joanie are usually the babies. Mom Jenna and Dad Peter tuck them into the pretend bed in their pretend house, pulling the pretend covers snug around them. Then, they go to their room, just a few steps away. Jenna kisses Peter, a chaste peck on the lips, the kind her mommy and daddy give each other in the mornings. She calls it gross when they do it, but when it's Peter, it's not gross at all. They lie down next to each other and Peter puts one arm around Jenna. This is what love is