Words like butterflies from your breath As you speak to tell me I'll be alright.
I may be far from perfect, but that is put aside And I know I can make it through another night.
The light from your eyes reflects the stars And lets me know that I'm just fine.
I know that though I have my faults I can still hold and call you mine.
When I look at you it's crystal clear That you are meant to grow Above all of the others here That believe they know.
Your eyes of blue and green Look off to a world that is, to me, unseen.
You are meant for greater things Than where for now you seem to be.
I hope I can walk beside you Through your life's destiny But if later on you must move on Please just don't forget me.
I hope I don't have to just remember You breath, your eyes, you lips, you light And I hope that I can always hear Your words of security through the night.
Anna Bell I may be only 15 years old, I also may be wrong, but I think I have been in love and I know what love is.
I have experienced that tingling feeling and the butterflies in your stomach and I have been completely 'obsessed' with my 'boyfriend' and I may have said I was 'in love', but I realize I wasn't.
Last year, in August, I started my first day in 9th grade.
My parents were sending me to a charter school that I had never heard of before.
I saw it as almost a punishment for my horrible behavior in my public school.
The year prior to that, I had straight F's on my report card, countless "sluff's" and skipped detentions, horrible friends and influences, and teachers I absolutely terrorized.
I didn't care about school, what happened to me, what my parents wanted or thought, or anything.
Now, in August 2009, I had to deal with social outcasts from private schools and uniforms for my first high school year.
As I made my way through the first month of school, I suffered severe depression, loneliness, and family problems.
I honestly didn't know if I even wanted to live.
I had just gotten out of my dad's home and was living with my mom who had just gotten a new job as the head counselor at a middle school.
I felt nobody understood me.
Everyone at my school seemed to have the picture perfect life with no problems, and rich parents.
All the other kids were simply unreachable and/or under the influence of some kind of drug.
I made a few new friends and found I had many in my new neighborhood.
There was one, in particular, who stood out to me.
His name was Max.
I had had a few good talks about deep discussions and we really seemed to click.
September 8th, my best friend since 3rd grade's birthday, we were 'official'.
We dated for four months and were attached by the hip.
We got to know each other very well and it turned out we had very similar lives.
We both had a hard time with family and both suffered from depression.
It seemed everything was perfect.
That was until late November, when I noticed he wasn't acting himself anymore.
He wasn't treating me the same anymore and something wasn't right.
On December 10th, I felt the ground below my feet pulled from under me once again.
I found out he was addicted to narcotics.
We broke up and for the next four months we rarely talked as he tried to pull himself out.
He quit cold turkey and for a little while I watched him run out of the class to vomit or noticed his absence from school.
He wasn't himself at all.
Time went by and we still didn't speak much.
Spring break came and we started to hang out a little more, and on April 8th, 2010, I admitted to him that I missed him.
We kept it a secret that we were together for about a month.
Through that time we have gotten even closer than before.
We have a list of things to do this summer, and through time, and we talk about everything.
Yesterday, after going to lunch with my dad, I went to see my counselor and I admitted I was suicidal.
I had taken a test that with each answer gave me points, and when I gave the total to my counselor, he told me that most people like me would be in the hospital.
My number was 114, and he informed me that the number where they begin to worry was 63.
After leaving my session, I had a talk with my dad that seemed to stress me out even more.
Max was waiting inside my house for me to get home, and when I walked inside I could feel the tears trying to escape my eyes.
I dropped all of my things on the floor in my room, trying to appear ok, when I finally broke down.
He held me close and let me cry and talked to me about what was going on.
He told me I needed to start taking antidepressants and that he would walk with me through everything.
He talked to my mom for me about what he felt I needed to do and eventually had to leave for home.
I might be 15, but I think that this is real.
It may not last forever, and he might not be 'the one' when I'm thirty, but that doesn't mean it isn't love I think love is when you know that no matter where you are, what you do, or how you feel, they will always be there.
Love is when you can be a total mess and feel comfortable.
Love is when you can wear no makeup and not feel embarrassed.
Love is when you can lie there in their arms for hours and never get bored.
Love is when you want to enjoy all the greatest things in life and everything you think with that person.
Love is when you know you can be completely stupid and you will still hear them tell you they love you at the end of the day.
Love is when you miss them while you dream, and you can't wait for the moment when you wake up and you can see them again.
I may be far from perfect, but that is put aside And I know I can make it through another night.
The light from your eyes reflects the stars And lets me know that I'm just fine.
I know that though I have my faults I can still hold and call you mine.
When I look at you it's crystal clear That you are meant to grow Above all of the others here That believe they know.
Your eyes of blue and green Look off to a world that is, to me, unseen.
You are meant for greater things Than where for now you seem to be.
I hope I can walk beside you Through your life's destiny But if later on you must move on Please just don't forget me.
I hope I don't have to just remember You breath, your eyes, you lips, you light And I hope that I can always hear Your words of security through the night.
Anna Bell I may be only 15 years old, I also may be wrong, but I think I have been in love and I know what love is.
I have experienced that tingling feeling and the butterflies in your stomach and I have been completely 'obsessed' with my 'boyfriend' and I may have said I was 'in love', but I realize I wasn't.
Last year, in August, I started my first day in 9th grade.
My parents were sending me to a charter school that I had never heard of before.
I saw it as almost a punishment for my horrible behavior in my public school.
The year prior to that, I had straight F's on my report card, countless "sluff's" and skipped detentions, horrible friends and influences, and teachers I absolutely terrorized.
I didn't care about school, what happened to me, what my parents wanted or thought, or anything.
Now, in August 2009, I had to deal with social outcasts from private schools and uniforms for my first high school year.
As I made my way through the first month of school, I suffered severe depression, loneliness, and family problems.
I honestly didn't know if I even wanted to live.
I had just gotten out of my dad's home and was living with my mom who had just gotten a new job as the head counselor at a middle school.
I felt nobody understood me.
Everyone at my school seemed to have the picture perfect life with no problems, and rich parents.
All the other kids were simply unreachable and/or under the influence of some kind of drug.
I made a few new friends and found I had many in my new neighborhood.
There was one, in particular, who stood out to me.
His name was Max.
I had had a few good talks about deep discussions and we really seemed to click.
September 8th, my best friend since 3rd grade's birthday, we were 'official'.
We dated for four months and were attached by the hip.
We got to know each other very well and it turned out we had very similar lives.
We both had a hard time with family and both suffered from depression.
It seemed everything was perfect.
That was until late November, when I noticed he wasn't acting himself anymore.
He wasn't treating me the same anymore and something wasn't right.
On December 10th, I felt the ground below my feet pulled from under me once again.
I found out he was addicted to narcotics.
We broke up and for the next four months we rarely talked as he tried to pull himself out.
He quit cold turkey and for a little while I watched him run out of the class to vomit or noticed his absence from school.
He wasn't himself at all.
Time went by and we still didn't speak much.
Spring break came and we started to hang out a little more, and on April 8th, 2010, I admitted to him that I missed him.
We kept it a secret that we were together for about a month.
Through that time we have gotten even closer than before.
We have a list of things to do this summer, and through time, and we talk about everything.
Yesterday, after going to lunch with my dad, I went to see my counselor and I admitted I was suicidal.
I had taken a test that with each answer gave me points, and when I gave the total to my counselor, he told me that most people like me would be in the hospital.
My number was 114, and he informed me that the number where they begin to worry was 63.
After leaving my session, I had a talk with my dad that seemed to stress me out even more.
Max was waiting inside my house for me to get home, and when I walked inside I could feel the tears trying to escape my eyes.
I dropped all of my things on the floor in my room, trying to appear ok, when I finally broke down.
He held me close and let me cry and talked to me about what was going on.
He told me I needed to start taking antidepressants and that he would walk with me through everything.
He talked to my mom for me about what he felt I needed to do and eventually had to leave for home.
I might be 15, but I think that this is real.
It may not last forever, and he might not be 'the one' when I'm thirty, but that doesn't mean it isn't love I think love is when you know that no matter where you are, what you do, or how you feel, they will always be there.
Love is when you can be a total mess and feel comfortable.
Love is when you can wear no makeup and not feel embarrassed.
Love is when you can lie there in their arms for hours and never get bored.
Love is when you want to enjoy all the greatest things in life and everything you think with that person.
Love is when you know you can be completely stupid and you will still hear them tell you they love you at the end of the day.
Love is when you miss them while you dream, and you can't wait for the moment when you wake up and you can see them again.
Source...