The word spill of a messed up mind.

The memories always come back rushing

It doesn't take much for me to remember you. You'd think by now I would have gotten over you, forgotten you, moved on from you. I believed so, until I passed by the swings where we first met, at the young age of 5, just silently swinging besides each other, too shy to speak, too curious not to look at each other, our little feet pushing the ground and sending us towards the sky and into each other's hearts. Until I pass by the cafe, where we had our first date, where we tried to be something more than just the best friends we had been for 10 years, where we first held hands and felt our hearts race, where I first knew what it was like to be in someone's arms and know that you are safe. Until I hear the Linkin Park song, that we both fell in love with when we were 16, and remember the first time our lips met on that summer day, when you looked at me and made me feel special, how your every touch made me feel loved, and I swear even now I can feel the pressure of your lips on mine, the fingerprints you left on my waist. Until I go to the rooftop and remember when you first saw me cry, at the age of 17, not the silent tears you had seen before, no, the ugly crying, with the uncontrollable sobs, and you rocked me in your arms, not caring that I was getting your new batman T-shirt wet, where I first realized that I had found my anchor, the person who had seen the broken girl who never got to grow up, and still loved her. Until I pass by the parking lot, where at 18, you told me you couldn't handle me anymore, you couldn't take anymore of my whining and my crying, that you had enough of my anxiety and my "depression", where you told me you couldn't keep up with my drama and the mood swings, where you finally realized that you couldn't after all mend the broken girl, and made me realize that I was in fact truly alone. Once again I had driven away someone who tried.