Empty Heart, Full Mind

Well, we made it three years. Thanks for sticking with me that long. It hurts that things had to end so harshly. I was only trying to help. This is why I never help anyone. I mess up. I wish you knew how sorry I am. I just wanted you to be safe, and happy. I hope you know that I cried on that phone call. I cried sending that message. As a matter of fact, I'm crying as I write this. I haven't been able to cry for a while, but I guess this really brought me over the edge You're still my best friend... since I don't have any other friends. I thought, "I don't need any other friends. She's all I need. We'll never stop being friends." Oh, how wrong i was. You begged me, and I didn't care. I'm so God damn sorry! Please forgive me. Please, know that I didn't mean to hurt you. I was just trying to help you. To show you that I cared. But I messed up big time. I hope you're reading this, because I miss you. But your last words to me made me miss you a little less...
"Fuck. You.
Don't talk to me."

When I was a kid, and I thought about the future, I saw friends, husbands, children, and smiles. I couldn't wait to be a teenager. I thought that it'd be the best thing ever. I'd go to the mall with my friends, eat soup at a cafe with my Mother, have romantic picnics with my boyfriend. No. None of that has happened, and I'm almost 15. So far, it's been mental hospitals, heart break, loneliness, and depression. This is not okay. I am not okay. I just wish none of this would have ever happened. It's a Saturday night and I'm isolating myself in a dark room, crying, while everyone else is getting high with their friends and laughing their asses off. Why can't I be that girl? Why can't I be the girl with 100 friends, a boyfriend, pretty hair, and a skinny body? It doesn't make any sense that I'm depressed. I want to be happy, and I try so hard to be happy. But nothing works. I could try drugs, alcohol, sex, etc. and nothing would bring me pleasure. I'm completely empty. Well, not completely. Just my heart. But my mind is far from empty. My mind is like a world if violence and darkness. They call it depression. It's like I'm trapped inside a padded room with no lights, but I can hear someone talking to me. Constantly telling me I'm not good enough, and that each mistake I make is just a sign that I should give up. They sound friendly but their words leak danger. I don't know what to believe in anymore; the voices I see or the voices I hear? I dream so much, I often question which is reality and which is a dream. None of it makes sense, and I'm dying inside.
I almost feel like, even on my medication, nothing has changed. I'm not really suicidal, but I still have suicidal thoughts. I self-harm less, but every cut is deeper than the last. It's like I'm less angry, and more sad. I've been crying most of the day off and on. I felt like dying, but I guess I'm okay now.
I understand that I need help, but therapy doesn't do anything for me. My therapists just asks me questions and makes me think, but I don't need to think. I think enough during the night. I need advice and action. I need to get my hands busy and really work towards getting out of this 1,000 ft. abyss.
There's a place I could go to in Tennessee for help. It's a mental institution, but for long-term, and they actually care about you and want you to get better. I'm considering going there. I brushed it off knowing that my best friend wouldn't come visit me while I was there, but now that I don't have to worry about that, I'm strongly considering it. I don't really want to go, but I think I need to. And I want help. I want to stay home and try to make new friends. But I don't know if I'll last that long. I thought about 5 different ways to end my life already today. Strongly meditated on some of my ideas. I don't know what I'm staying strong for. I just know that I'm suppose to, no matter what. That institution in Tennessee may really help me open my eyes. Maybe I'll find some real pleasure in life. If that place can help me overcome depression, then I'm all for it. It's far away, but that doesn't matter because there's no one to visit me anyway. My therapist can't help me, my parents can't help me, and I can't help me. I don't know what to do right now besides write. I've been writing for almost two hours. It fills the void in my heart, like my best friend use to.
If I do go to Tennessee, I just really, really, really want to come out better.

121.4 lb

I don't know what to write about. I just feel like talking to someone, but there's no one around. I guess talking to my computer works too. I guess I'll give those of you who don't read my journal an update on my life in the past two months. So, after two suicide attempts, two ER trips and two mental institution stays, hypothyroidism diagnoses and Hashimotos diagnoses... I'm on the right medication and my mind is doing quite well.Well, so they think. I can think a little more clear, and I take things more seriously and personally. But my mood and mindset really haven't changed much. I mean, for a little while I felt a lot better after getting out of the mental hospital; it was a horrible place. But after being home for a few weeks, I almost feel no different than before. In fact, I'm a bit worse. I know no one really reads this blog so I can basically post whatever I'm thinking, so don't take me as an attention seeker, if you'd please. But I'm worse in a few ways, actually. Cutting has gotten deeper, voices have been getting louder, and depression is darker. Everyone blames my depression on my thyroid, but I feel like something else is going on. Eating disorders and psychosis aren't hypothyroid symptoms. Oh, hey. Let's talk about eating disorders for a little bit. I've already talked about the voices before. So, I had a major episode on Sunday because I was feeling guilty for not telling my parents about my eating disorder. I trashed my room. Tore lights down, knocked over a radio, kicked a table, threw my art kit, and smashed a mirror. I hate the feeling of guilt. It makes me extremely upset. Anyway, I ended up confessing to my parents about the eating disorder I've been battling for the past three months. I had told no one until I exploded and was drove to telling my Dad. So, pretty much, I would starve myself for a few days, then binge, then starve myself. I'd go from periods of eating three full meals to not eating for four days. I threw up once because of the lack of food and water. And only recently, about a week ago, I started force-vomiting after I ate meals. I only ate for the taste and to convince people that I had eaten. But right after I finished, I went to the bathroom and removed anything left in my stomach. I'm self-diagnosed with bulimia. I haven't told my therapist yet, but plan to eventually. She doesn't help me. I hate my therapists. I only go to please my parents and comfort them. I still lie to my therapist, though. The last session, I faked happiness and told her I was completely fine. I'm dying inside. 

My parents are probably both reading this right now and speaking about it together. I don't care. They already went through all my journals, text messages, and Facebook messages. But somehow I was able to hide my eating habits from them. I guess since I was careful enough not to write about it anywhere. Now, I don't even care anymore. It may not seem like it with the amount of selfies I take, but I'm self-conscious as shit with my body. I didn't want anyone to know that; not even my best friend. I didn't want help. No one understands. You all say to just work out, but it never works.

"You're not fat." - I'm just saying this to seem like a real friend but you're actually pretty fat.

"You're normal weight for your age." You're above average.

"You're beautiful." I'm just trying to make you feel better about yourself. 

"Just eat." I have no clue what it's like to suffer from an eating disorder.

You people don't have a single clue what it's like. Tell me you've felt like slitting your own throat, never eating again, and tell me you talk to yourself in the mirror because you've got no one else to talk to. Tell me that, and I'll trust that you understand. Otherwise, back off.

Okay so this blog probably makes no sense to anyone and may seem completely pointless. But this is what anti-social mortals like myself do. We write.

Okay, goodbye. 

My Shadows

I feel like the only reason they’re with me is to ruin my life. To make me so miserable, I end up either killing myself or killing everyone else. It’s like they've been put directly into my life just to make it worse than it already is; to completely destroy any ounce of happiness left in me. They’re doing a pretty good job, if you ask me. They all work together to battle against me. I don’t know how to fight back. They've found all my weaknesses and are using them against me. I used to think I never feared anything, but then they came along. Now, I fear myself. One after another, they appeared in my room. They stared at me until I gave in. Until I let them in my head and allowed them access to everything I hold on to. They control my life now. We've learned to cope at times, and it’s come to the point where I walk, and I talk. But they do the rest. They control my thoughts, my emotions, and my feelings. Sometimes, I’ll be laughing with friends. They’ll realize that, and shut me down. Make me hold my breath until I stop laughing, and then they’ll fill my eyes with tears. It’s like they’re reassuring me that I do not control who I am. They’ll give me the option to fight back the tears, walk away, take a breath, and come back. I usually take my chances and go with it. But in some cases, they won’t allow that. They’ll suck every happy memory I've ever experience, and throw it all away for a few seconds. (It's like I'm bipolar.) Then tell me how worthless I am. How pathetic my life is. How useless I am to anyone and anything, especially my family. They tell me to stop trying to be happy, because there’s no reason to be. I mean, my family hates me. My friend’s list is limited. I have nothing to look forward to in the future.
Sometimes, I want to run away from reality. I want to go with them to their world. They say it’s a good place, with no pain. All I have to do is say goodbye to the things I once loved.
People think I’m crazy. They say I need pills to get my mind stabilized, or therapy, to get understanding of who I am. Honestly? The last thing I need is some stuck-up therapist to tell me how to live. I don’t need anyone to tell me who I am. I know who I am. I’m no one important. I’m nothing but a paper bag floating down the road, hoping one day someone would either pick me up and throw me away or fill me up and make me useful. I want to be filled with love again. I want to feel like I matter. I wish I was normal. I’m going a little more insane each day and it’s making no sense to me. They tell me I should put a bullet in my mouth, or overdose on whatever drugs I can find in the kitchen. They say I have no reason to be. I know it’s true. I believe them. I've even started telling myself the same thing. But… there’s this one voice in the back of my head, trying so hard to be at its loudest. It’s telling me to stop, and take a step back. To think of all the good that’s still in my life. I keep telling the voice to stop talking, because it’s wrong. There is no good anymore. But it says that, “The other voices have only made you forget. They've shoved all the good memories and happy times in the back of your head along with me.”
I have no way of recovering those thoughts anymore. It’s not like I just take anti-depressants and magically become normal.
They told me I don’t need those, anyway. They said it’s not going to making me any less depressed. I’m already a waste of space, and I just need to give up already, to throw reality away and come and join them in their world.

I want to go away forever. I actually do, in fact, want to go join their world.
I get migraines every single day - horrible, horrible headaches in the front of my head. It’s starting to drive me insane. I can’t handle it. And sometimes death seems better than the migraine in my head.

I’m told by many that suicide isn't the answer. I, personally, don’t want to commit suicide. I don’t want to die. I used to, but I don’t anymore. I just want to live a normal life, with normal thoughts, and normal friends. I want to control my own thoughts and my own mood. I can go from the silliest person in the group to the most silent. I struggle to hold a conversation with anyone, even my best friend. We used to talk every day, now she never texts me. It’s my fault. I’m not able to talk to anyone. I can’t react to things normally like other people can. I’ll get teased for being homeschooled and everyone will start laughing. But I don’t even know what emotion to express. Like, am I supposed to laugh, too? It wasn't even funny, but everyone else is laughing… so I guess I should, too. Oh, and sometimes when people compliment me on something, I become speechless. I guess I should thank them? But my mood stays the same so I sound harsh when I speak. Someone might be telling me a funny story, and they’ll start to crack up. But me? I might fake a smile, but that’s all I can do. I find nothing funny. I've practiced multiple times in the mirror on a smile that looks convincing. But behind every smile of mine, I’m secretly thinking, you’re starting to annoy me.
I am so likable, though. If I meet new people, in less than 10 minutes I’m considered a friend of theirs. People love me, and I don’t know why. I almost hate it. I’d rather sit in a dark room all alone, than in a bright one with a group of people.

I’m starting to grow more attached to these voices. I refuse to say that I’m mental, because I truly think I’m just different. I just see, hear, feel, and think differently than other people.
I’ll be okay someday. But for now, I need to cope with them in order to get more access of my own life.

Is Cussing Really Wrong?

Started looking through the Bible for reasons why not to cuss. Because as I've been told it is wrong. But I read that we shouldn't use profanity. Our words should be encouraging. What if I were to say, "You did a d*m* good job!" or "Don't take bull**** from other people. You're amazing."
I just want opinions. Not saying I do cuss, or that it IS right... just truly curious.

Psalm 141:3 says, "Set a guard, O Lord, over my mouth; keep watch over the door of my lips!" that could mean not to bring people down with harsh words? Or not to use your mouth for perverted language. The Bible isn't fully specific to me.

Exodus 20:7 says, “You shall not take the name of the Lord your God in vain, for the Lord will not hold him guiltless who takes his name in vain." but when is saying sh** using God's name in vain in any way?

Psalm 109:17 says, "He loved to curse; let curses come upon him! He did not delight in blessing; may it be far from him!" I don't think that actually means curse words... I think that means by doing wrong. Like an actual curse? Like saying he loved to sin. Let sins come upon him.

Is Courage a Mistake?

As you know I've been really losing friends lately. I just need to stop caring so much for people that don't give a single care in the whole world about me. My friend from Youth Group who I haven't seen for three weeks showed up at Youth Group tonight. I was waiting for her at the door. As soon as she walked in I asked if we could talk. We haven't talked to each other for about 6 weeks. I was already about to burst out in tears. As soon as I opened my mouth to ask what's been going on, I lost it. I couldn't keep the tears behind a shield. A shield made of wood. It just soaked right through and filled up my eyes. I gasped for air as my lungs tightened and shrunk. Right then and there I knew I was in trouble. I got so mad at myself for being so emotional but at the same time excited that I'm brave enough to be mature, walk up to the person, and ask a simple question. Suddenly, she started to answer my question. A lump in my throat grew tight. As she spoke I randomly shot my eyes around the room, searching for something to focus on rather than her eyes. I was trying to hide my face and threw my hands over my mouth in a tight fist. My knuckles quickly became white as I stood there; clenching my fists. I was ready to scream. I wanted to just leave right there. Walk away and forget ever speaking. We argued. We just repeated ourselves. I feel so unbelievably unwanted by people that I want to just cry over a  blank, white page as I write about who I truly love. Yes - That's why it's blank.

Recently my hands have been turning pale with blood red circles all over. I think it's a sign of both stress and depression. My hands look ugly, weak, and worthless. Someone asked if they could see my promise ring and I was embarrassed to stretch such a feeble body part out from under my jacket sleeve. The scar on my ring finger made it no more appealing. My teeth have been almost bleeding. I clench my teeth so hard, and grind my teeth, when I'm angry that I taste blood in my mouth. I've made my gums bleed before. It's very minor. I'm turning into something I don't want to be. I'm not my old happy self.

 At Youth when we were going around meeting people and, surprisingly, my friend Jeremiah saw that I was sitting alone and yelled "Hi, Becca!" from behind. I turned and gave a feeble smile then looked across the room to focus on something. I sat alone most of the time until Jeremiah got his friends David, Dillon, and another girl to change seats and come sit with me. Of course, non of them sat next to me. I looked to the side of my shoulder and saw an empty seat. A lonely, empty, seat. No one wanted to sit next to me. My face started stinging; attempting to hold back more tears. I quickly took a deep breath but each gasp of air caught in my throat. Then I relaxed. I tried taking another breath and gasped every few seconds again. My stomach chugged in and out and air searched around for a free spot in my lungs. My face turned beat red as I heard people talk among themselves, not caring to take a moment to say anything to me. I glanced to the door to see if it was open. If it was, I was ready to dash out of there and sit in the hall way until they came out to get ready to go back downstairs. The door was shut. I closed my eyes and bit my tongue, not feeling any pain. I suppose all the pain was in my eyes ready to drip down my cheek. Once the speech was finished I stood up and walked straight out of that room and went downstairs, not looking at my surroundings. As soon as I sat down I found a spot on the floor to stare at. I sat there. Repeating in my head. I want to leave. It's her fault. I hate her. It's my fault! I should know better. Why didn't I keep my mouth shut? What's wrong with me? I'm so confused. Why isn't anyone sitting by me? Everyone is sitting with friends. I'm on such a cozy couch all alone. What'd I do to them? Oh, great. They're asking where my friend went. I shoved my face into my knees quickly and took a huge gasp and tried to ignore the name flashing through the room. It's like lightening about to strike a tree. I'm the tree. Why is everyone laughing and talking among themselves? Why isn't anyone getting up to sit by me? Hey, there's three free seats by me! If... anyone cares. Oh, look. Someone couldn't fit on that couch. Now she's forced to sit by me. Oh my goodness. She's sitting next to me and not just on the same couch! I said hello and grabbed my knees. I was so extremely happy that she chose to sit by me, not just with me. I tried holding my tears. I was so happy and so angry all in one emotion. She looked at me and asked if I was okay. I said under my breath "Oh, great." and flooded tears across my face. She asked if I was okay again. Another girl asked what happened. I just gasped quickly the name of my friend and they just leaned back in their seats watching me carefully with wide, calm eyes. I cried.
The only person I can ever say is a friend who isn't a sibling is my cousin, Cassidy. Still family. The only family member I talk to besides my siblings and parents. What is wrong with me? Do people just hate us? Or, even worse, me? Have I done something so wrong that everyone goes off talking about me? If I have, what? I just need someone to tell me what lies have been being told about me. Why does everyone LEAVE? Someone help. My mind is so full of crap; mistakes, regrets, enemies, etc, that I can't find the good in my life.

 God? Sure, whatever... You know what? When I was two years old (Almost three) he saved my life. I died, and he saved me. He told me to live and so I did. Maybe I needed to just die? They say God makes no mistakes, but what if I made the mistake? Getting sick. I got myself sick. I just... I don't know anymore. What would the world be like without Rebecca? The girl who died and lived again. No one even knows my story... the only people who know it are long gone friends from my past who weren't really ever friends before. I've never told anyone my true story. No one seems to believe me when I do. I'm so special, equally, but in a different way. One plus one equals two, but two plus two equals four. I'm on in a million. I survived. I should be happy! No, I'm not bragging. I'm just finally stepping up and showing myself. I want myself to have some attention. I give so much love. In return? I get a friend. A friend that ends with the word "end." of course. God saved me. I'm special. I'm equal in my own way. Okay.. so? If everyone is equal, then no one is special. At least no more special than the other. You can't be both equal and special at the same time. We're equally special is your protest? I see. Special means better than the other or more outstanding, amusing, or awesome. Special. Such a strong word.

I've lost all hope in friends, except for the one and only - Cassidy. I'm scared now. I now have a fear of friendship. I'm scared if I get to know someone so well (or too well) that it'll just end up in a screaming match. Every time. Yes, there is people who still call me their friend. Only because they know me. I know Barack Obama, but we're not friends. You know me, and I know you. So? I hate how people throw around the word "Friend" so often that it's become another term for "Fake." in my opinion.
I've lost all of my friends.
The only thing I have left is a passion to run; and courage. I have courage. I am brave. I'm the bravest person I know. I feel like I can talk to anyone in a mature way. Sure, I'll probably get all emotional and make a fool of myself. But at least I did it. I'll look back from now and think of myself as the girl who Asked the Question.
I am Brave.
I am Courageous.
I am Young.
I am Funny.
I am Emotional.
I am Alive.


Now what?

I'm Missing Us

Well... I started to write. I've got a journal now and continuously write about my life. But a journal page isn't as big as a blog post page, and I somewhat care to share what I have to say.
I don't want to share much anymore because my life has become very classified; I'm trying to keep it that way, at least. I've had some real trouble getting back into shape. Not with muscle on my arms, but with strength in my mind. I've gone through some really hard times lately and I have lost quite a few friends. I felt lonely, lost, and unwanted. I still do, somewhat. But I've been shown a path; two, actually. One goes one way, the other goes the other way. I have to choose which path to take. I just only wish I could see the other end; where it leads. I don't want to travel for so long just to find a dead end or a sign saying "Other path, idiot." All I know is one path will take me to freedom, and will take me to free doom. I already know what I want, I just need to take a closer look at how to get there. Perhaps if I had a friend to point me in the right direction I could be on my way to the great and almighty life of freedom and love. Of course, you can't spell friend without end. Maybe if my so called "friends" would show me they actually care then I could trust them. I've pretty much lost everyone I have except family. I miss the old days when your parents just kind of gave you a friend and said "Hey, here's a friend. Enjoy." and you'd have play dates with them and all that. Then something happened. You grew up. I grew up! We call it hanging out, not play dates. You have to keep your friend laughing. You've always gotta text your friend just to say hi and ask what's up, even though you don't care much. It's work, I admit. Worth it? No. It matters on the friend, actually. If it was worth it I'd actually have friends by now like I used to. My sister told me she only had one friend when she was my age. They'd only hang out about once a month, but they were still were very close and always had lots of fun. I - on the other hand - am used to having friends spam me with hellos, goodbyes, I love you/miss you. All that crap. It was all worthless. People just leave. I don't understand. Am I the issue? Why do people just become my friend and lie to me? They all say they love me and want to be my best friend forever. Well, guess what? I've come to the fact that when they say "Forever and ever" they mean "Forever and never." Honestly. You can't have a happy ending without a happy beginning. I guess the odds aren't exactly in my favor, ha ha. 
So also, to be honest, there's this one girl who I was friends with. Randomly she decided to 100% ignore me. No longer sit with me when we see each other. Don't talk to me. Don't look at me. Like.. what did I do? What do I do? Do I scare people off? Do they scare me off? I will never understand true friendship. The only true friend I can say I have is my sister. Goodness, she's amazing. Where would I be without her?

I once remember myself as the happy little girl who always made people laugh. I was so extremely awkward and random. (I still am somewhat.) But now... I've got no one to make smile. My family? Eh, they're always there. I want something new. I need something new. Someone, possibly. I know, I know. I'm still only a young teenager trying to figure out the definition of "Life." But don't get me wrong; I've been living this so called Life for 13 years. Thirteen years is a long time. The age thirteen may be young, but the amount of time is a long way away from little. Yes, I do know God is out there. Loving me, caring for me, helping me. I can feel him near. But I'm such a greedy human, as made. I want more. I want better! What is better than God's love? Nothing. Exactly my point. I want something that is better than the best. Only if I understood how loved I really am. I'm so lost yet at the same time have always been found. Yeah, I make weird quotes that people don't understand. But as long I'm making my point to myself - I'm good. I'm so loved. So needed. I've done so much harm in my life that I just wish I wasn't sometimes. I know this post is over the top dramatic, but I just love expressing my feelings when needed. There's six kinds of people I love. One, my parents. Two, my family. Three, my friends. Four, my husband. Five, my children. Six, God. Oh, yes. I did leave myself out. Perhaps I did that on purpose? I'll never understand me. I'm so confusing. Ha ha, I could write a book. A book about the life of Rebecca. That one girl that is both interesting and boring all in one. 
I could type for hours, but I need sleep every now and then. To refresh my mind from evil and repair it with good. 

For those of you reading this; I know you may see me as an average teenager who just wants attention and wants friends and think she's so worthless. Ever though that's actually how we feel? Maybe it's not just average. Maybe this is all legit. I feel as if I'm worthless, but knowing I am loved more than I could ever imagine! Feels and thoughts are so different. Along with hearing a lie but understanding the truth. I smack myself telling myself that I am cared for. But why don't I, like, care to be cared?
Goodness, I am quite the drama queen.
I'll continue to write in my journal, but it's so much faster to type. And journals are only so big. 

Now, let's say something happy about my life. Uh... we got a trampoline. I suppose that's happy. I already can do a flip on it. But it's not easy jumping in such high snow, so I'll have to wait for Spring or Summer.

I've got parents to love me. But.. I just can't talk to them the way I do friends. I can tell my friends funny jokes and personal things, not caring what they know. But with parents you know they'll always be with you for all your or their life. They'll always know. I don't want them looking at me saying "Oh she's the daughter that did this." or "She's the daughter who hates what's it's face." No, I don't keep secrets from them. A secret is something you don't tell anyone. I tell people. Of course I do have personal secrets I write about that I shall never share to anyone in the world until I'm dead. But, my parents do know pretty much everything about me and understand me. They know how I feel and I can't thank them enough. I will admit, I do worry about telling my parents about things further in life. I'll have to tell my Dad about a boy I like eventually. I'll have to tell my Mom that I just lost a friend and need a hug. I'll have to get permission for marriage and I'll have to get permission to move out. Permission to live the way I am. Permission to speak to certain people and speak a certain way. I trust their opinions very much so. They nearly know everything about me. I don't have anything to hide, I suppose. Not that I can think of... hmm. The only thing I ever attempt to keep from anyone and everyone is how I feel. That's my mind - my privacy. But like I'm doing now. I'm expressing my feelings. Totally not my full thoughts though. But my thoughts are my thoughts, not yours. They're the one thing in life I can keep from everyone except God. The one thing I can consider private. There's always those awkward moments you get angry enough and actually tell your legit thoughts and pretty much screw everything up. I've once got so mad at a friend I've screamed my true thoughts, and it ruined the whole day. I've got so tired of arguing I shouted out my crush's name to my Mom, ha ha. It was obvious anyway. I've gotten so upset at my cousin that I finally just straight up ignored her for the whole day. Even wrote a note saying how sorry I was about over reacting.
I make mistakes, and regret them. But it's hard to keep calm when people are peeling back your flesh and attempting to tear apart your skull just to get to your brain and find out what's in that little brain of mine.

I'm typed a lot! Oh my gosh! That's enough. 40 minutes of typing for no reason, ha ha! G`night. :)

Best Cousin!

So, I know I haven't blogged in a VERY long time but that's because I've been on Facebook mostly.
But when I'm not on Facebook I'm usually spending time with my favorite cousin, Cassidy. :)
I met Cassidy at my Grandpa's funeral. Yes, both my Mother's Parent's passed away. :( Me and Cassidy added each other on Facebook, then Skype, then I got a phone and her number, then I moved and now I am 5 minutes away from her instead of 20 minutes. We talk every single day and she's just the best thing in my life right now.
Love her so much. <3
We'll have sleepovers for three days in a row when she's on school break. That's just how awesome we are, haha!