I believe in miracles, and I think you might just be mine.

And maybe he was used to fill that void, that empty part of me that trived for love. Or maybe he wasn't. Maybe those thousands upon thousands of butterflies that fluttered in the bottom part of my stomach everytime I saw his face did mean something. Maybe, just maybe this was it.

I don't think it's a secret anymore.

I hold onto the teddy bear you gave me every night, and as I fall asleep, I constantly wish it was you.