i'm holding out, i'm not getting an answer. I want to do right by you

my eyes are red, the product of raining tears. I wear a plastic tiara on my head, just for kicks, but it does not make me smile. A tough day, one would call it. My eyes are still puffy regardless of the sign of royality on my head. This proves that princesses have bad days too. I think we found the apartment Jessie, Mia, Carly and myself will lease today. I saw my dad, as he began the treck to my old home. I cried when that man left me. I cried because I missed him. I cried because he gave up so much so i could have a good childhood. He never once thought of himself. He never had any spoiling growing up, but he spoiled us. For that reason I wept and still weep. The idea of truly moving out scares me. Home has always been so safe, so comfortable, but the real world keeps knocking on my door and i know this umbrella can only keep me dry for so long. I told both of my parents how much they meant to me, and I cried more. When i told my mom about moving out, i cried. The tears from my eyes are like the stars in the heavens. only they fall more frequently than a shooting star. Wishing on them brings nothing and discussing them only causes multiplication to happen. Like this blog. They form, fall, and flatten to the earth, each one only a fraction of the emotions inside. I like to imagine each tear full with salten water is carrying away my pain, taking the salt out my wound. I wear my tiara, and I wear it well it