Try To Be A Filter, Not A

It's Like He Would Take A Photograph Of Sam, And The Photograph Would Be Beautiful. And He Would Think That The Reason The Photograph Was Beautiful Was Because Of How He Took It. If I Took It, I Would Know That The Only Reason It's Beautiful Is Because Of Sam. I Just Think It's Bad When A Boy Looks At A Girl And Thinks That The Way He Sees The Girl Is Better Then The Girl Actually Is. And I Think It's Bad When The Most Honest Way A Boy Can Look At A Girl Is Through A Camera. It's Very Hard For Me To See Sam Feel Better About Herself Just Because A Boy Sees Her That Way.

The Inside Jokes Weren't Jokes Anymore. They Had Become Stories. Nobody Brought Up The Bad Names Or The Bad Times. And Nobody Felt Sad As Long As We Could Postpone Tomorrow With More Nostalgia.

I Walk Around The School Hallways And Look At The People. I Look At The Teachers And Wonder Why They're Here. If They Like Their Jobs. Or Us. And I Wonder How Smart They Were When They Were Fifteen. Not In A Mean Way. In A Curious Way. It's Like Looking At All The Students And Wondering Who's Had Their Heart Broken That Day, And How They Are Able To Cope With Having Three Quizzes And A Book Report Due On Top Of That. Or Wondering Who Did The Heart Breaking. And Wondering Why.

So, This Is My Life. And I Want You To Know That I Am Both Happy And Sad And I'm Still Trying To Figure Out How That Could Be.

And How Different Her Face Looked The First Time She Really Liked A Boy Who Was Not On A Poster On Her Wall. And How Her Face Looked When She Realized She Was In Love With That Boy.