Things I Could Never Tell You

149, 150, 151

Text #149. 

May 26, 8:17 pm.

Sometimes I feel like I'm only made to understand and not be understood. They don't get me, no one does. They say one thing and then they do another. I'm so sick and tired of speaking words that no one understands, so I just keep them bottled up inside me. People say that they're here for me and that I can tell them everything. But I tried it. I tried talking to them. Venting it all out. But it I always feel vulnerable and weak. Like I have an Achilles heel, a weakness in the middle of an overall strength, which will lead me to a possible downfall. Like people can use it to take advantage of me. I hate that kind of feeling. I used to be so much stronger than this.

Text #150.

May 27, 9:59 am.

Saturday. And I'm fucking forced to wake up at eight o'clock in the morning because dad got way over enthusiastic and started singing Love Me Tender. Great. I can still hear him singing from here. Just the perfect way to start my weekend.

Text #151.

May 28, 10:05 pm.

I just found the small book Cameron handed to me some days ago. It was still in my backpack. Something about it made my skin shiver. I took a deep breath and opened it up. It was a lyric book. It had his handwriting on it and a couple of drawings also. One was more beautiful than the other. He drew the most various types of things, and they were amazing. There were drawings, but most of them were lyrics. I was skipping the pages until my eyes adjusted on a certain drawing. It was a blonde girl, with blue eyes, reading a book. It took me some minutes to find out that the girl was me. My eyes traveled to the corner of the page, where there was a date.
April 24.
The day I first saw library boy. So that why he was staring at me. He was drawing me. I still can't believe it. Why would anyone want to draw me?I turned the page and there was a small text written. It read:

I don't know anything about her. I just found quite fascinating how focused she was on the book. How her eyes would widen for some few seconds and then go back to normal every time she read a different part of the book. How she bit her lip and stared at the floor for a moment, and then went back to reading. I don't know her, yet. But I will. I swear I will.

I'm still trying to figure out what it means.