A L L M Y T E X T S A R E F R O M F A C E B O O K

I don't get suspicious texts,

but if I did--I think I'd tell someone. Right away. Because I'm a wimp and just do things that way. But not these girls. They knew that would make for a terrible plot. They let that whole "we're in danger" stew for a while. And drug out the whole ordeal 8 books. Thank god. I love it.

I've been reading the Pretty Little Liars series and I'm not ashamed to say it. I like a little chick lit, and really, it's a mystery. I think it's fabulous and I'm not going to quit just because it has a few too many love interests. Because I'm interested in love, I really am.

Inquiring minds want to know, out in Fiction World--how does it work? Is loving an older man the way to go, a teacher, a brother? I mean, all that drama, makes it work--doesn't it?

"If it makes you happy, it can't be that bad."

I'm not "happy" but I'm better. I doubt you read my blog, but yeah. I'm not as good as you. At all. But my friends sort of rock and yours sort of suck. And books sort of love me and boys sort of don't. Books love you, they wait for you, they want you forever. Books are perfect boyfriends, even John Green said that.

I'm not great though, reading about these girls with lives, eerily simlar to mine in some ways, has brought up some unwanted memories, things I'd like to push away from my mind--from the not so distant past. Things I'd like to forgive and forget. But, I don't think I ever will. And I think they know that. Or else, I'd be around. I'll never say a word.

--A