all the things i've said before

its quite obvious that anything i'm feeling i've already felt, and that anything i'm going to say, i've already said before. its september, and i walk out the door of my mother's onto main street in coopersburg, and its 2 years ago. yes i'm wearing different clothes, listening to death cab instead of dashboard, carrying a fucking vera bradley, i didn't even know who vera bradley was 2 years ago, but in my head i'm walking down a street that hasn't changed, looking at houses that are mostly the same. and i'm freshly 17, wondering what the fuck i'm going to write a college essay about for AP english, and he's my entire world.
what has happened these last 2 years, its been a blur hasn't it? how many friends have i hung onto since then? how many of them have i slept with? i've been over it a billion and a half times, what could've, would've, might've been, if he hadn't, if my life hadn't fallen apart because of it. i probably wouldn't have gone to new york, so i wouldn't be thousands of dollars in debt with no future to speak of, but i wouldn't have met rebecca or mitch, or bec, christine or dan, i certainly wouldn't have made a trillion guy mistakes before meeting stephen. on that note i don't even understand how he can love me, i'm so broken and definitely not deserving of his love. i would've never ended up living with my dad most likely, which i'm sure has its pluses and minuses to speak of. i think i could be a writer, but i don't know what i'd write, all i ever write is this crap that i could never make any money off of. money. ha. i had the fleeting thought yesterday when i was making muffins that i might want to like go to cooking school like i used to when i was little...but i don't think i really want to do that, i don't know what i really want to do, besides rewind. i'm desperate for a rewind button, to go back and do it all again, not even all the way back to him, well...i don't know. i'd give anything for one more day, but i know its impossible, that shit only happens in movies, which is probably why i get lost in them, in movies, in books, in songs, because those are the venuse in which reality can be stretched, pulled and pushed and manipulated...but i don't have any talent to create what might have been...just like i have no talent to salvage my reality. i want to press reset, reboot, start all over, fresh...but theres no such thing as a second chance, not in reality.
"in my head there's a greyhound station and i set my thoughts to far off destinations"