I'm Christy - and pretty much you'll never understand me. I'm more complicated than you'd think, and it took me a while to figure out who I am - think it's easy? Try me. Ask me anything- I'm a walking contradiction. I swear. Heh, anyway... About me… About me... About me... Well, I'm not intellectual, or very intelligent. Some like to assume this- why? I don't know. But they do. Hmm, maybe it's the big nose. That seems to make people think I'm full of the smarts. But NOPE. I AM, however, very understanding. It's something about myself that I'm incredibly proud of, along with my ability to (if given the chance) hold a conversation for more than two seconds. Unless I feel super nervous. Then, I'll either talk TOO much- and about stupid things- OR I won't talk enough and be super, hella awkward. Both are extremely embarrassing and I hate feeling like I wish I had a big giant "STOP" button on my face to press and keep me from talking. I like photography, and im buying a new camera, just for fun. I want to be smart. I want to be someone who gets the A, or the B, or... the B+. That would be nice. I also want to be the person who has more than one talent. But so far, I'm only beating that goal by one more. I have TWO talents. Those two are: being a wonderful Mommy to a beautiful baby girl, and being a great listener. I'm a hopeless romantic above all. I believe in true love, and I know it's lame and sappy and all that jazz, but honestly...I mean, what sounds more appealing than waking to pebbles on the window, then being romantically swept off your feet to a beach somewhere and having a moonlit picnic? Ok...maybe that's a little too far. But I love romance. I love it. I love the idea of having someone to hug and kiss, and...love, it's just a nice idea. Of course, we're all lonely sometimes, and then we're all told to focus on friends- but there are things that friends can't bring you. Like that feeling in your gut that makes you think your insides are going to explode with butterflies and incredible happiness- ever felt it? I have. And it's great. But... also sort of lonely if you can't EMBRACE that feeling. Friends, though, are a huge part of my life, and having the ones I have makes me incredibly proud. I am a strange person, and they like me anyway- which means a lot. I do realize that times change...but it gets hard sometimes when friends change so drastically in a short amount of time- so if I've ever brought it to your attention, or seem sad, then it's no biggie. I'll just deal with it, because that's another thing I realize- we all just have to deal with it. Back to the whole romance thing, I am incredibly taken. And yes, I'm very happy. Don't mind me, it's just how it is - Heh, no worries, it tickles more than anything (damn butterflies).
Going through this has only made me stronger and its going to continue making me stronger. I love her so much!! She's my lifesaver. And even though I have made mistakes she's helping me learn from them.... I love you baby more than you will ever know. 
There is only so many times you can allow someone to let you down before you can't handle the disappointment anymore. When things change people change and it doesn't mean you forget the past, it simply means you try to move on and treasure the memories. Letting go doesn't mean giving up, it means accepting the things that weren't meant to be. There's a point in life when you get tired of chasing everyone, trying to fix everything, but it's not giving up. You got to do what's right for you even if it hurts. I've come to realize that in the end, everyone turns out to be the person they swore they'd never become.. 
Dear Fucker: Why do you have to hurt her like this? What did she do to you? She didn't ask to be brought into this world like this, so why do you have to be so useless to her? I can do quite well on my own raising her without you. She'll do just fine. So do me a favor Fucker, make up your mind now boy, before it's to late and you really hurt her. She's young enough right now she'll never remember, but oh I will. I'll remember it all. And when she is old enough I will tell her about that night you broke my heart and all the awful things you said. I might have forgiven you for all of it, but I will never EVER forget them, ever. Do me a favor and just leave us already, it's not like you're doing this for you, it's more like you're doing this for your family. Hell, you don't even call to see how she's doing, you never have, ever, and that makes me sad :(. You come see her when "it's good for you" but not when your days are. You make plans weeks, even months ahead with your little screw buddy and her daughter, but you can't even make plans with your own daughter. Is it really that hard? Either man up or fuck off, it's that simple :) P.S. Make my wish come true, disappear :) Thank You & Have A Nice Day 
Everyday I look at myself and see someone different from whom I want to be. A lot of the time I do things I know aren't right to make others happy or just to live a little but I really don't know why I did it in the end. I'm an obsessive-compulsive person, and I lie sometimes, But what's funny is I hate lairs because I've been hurt by them so badly in the past. I really want to change who I am but I always find myself getting worse instead of getting better. My life took such a bad turn a short while ago that it made me an indefinite bitch; I don't like being that person. I hurt people I love and I don't want to, this is only a secret cause I've never told anyone, but I think anyone who's been my friend for a really long time already knows.
By letting go of what I am, I become what I might be By releasing what I have, I shall find what I need. When I feel empty and destroyed, I am about to grow. By yielding, I shall endure.
The pain is written on her gentle face. Sleepless nights show in the dark circles beneath her light blue eyes... Her once gorgeous smile is replaced with a permanent frown. There is always a distance in her eyes...
She used to be a writer - she loved it. Words appeared in a steady flow in her head, sometimes so insistently that she felt dizzy until she wrote them down. She thought in stories and poetry - as if there was a silent person sitting in her mind that she had to explain herself to. She played herself short films in her head to send herself to sleep; she read new and exciting books in her dreams; she awoke with ideas on her tongue. But she found that she needed to look after herself, to an extent, for when the waves of weary depression found their way too deep inside they washed away any thought at all. She wasn't always writing, reading, thinking - words came to her when she was upset, sad, alone. They were her comfort blanket. Her parents and friends became redundant as she withdrew into her mind. She didn't notice, she had her thoughts, her pencils and paper. Her mother, who used to say that her daughter had such a way with words, worried about the change in her child. But she was perfectly content, writing about addiction, deprivation, loss. She'd pour all her stress and sadness onto the page and smile as her headache relieved.
