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| CircleI feel like I've just received a request, that, upon accepting, would require me to sign away my soul. It shouldn't be a decisive matter at all. Part of who I am is being the person who's always trying to help, always the person trying to save the one who needs saving. So why do I have such a hard time with this recent case? I've been with him nearly three years, and now, after about 5 months of nothing at all from him but memories and stale thoughts, he's back in my life. And how he wants help with laying off the drinking. Well, what does he think I've been trying to do when we were together?! When he was hurting me? Lying to me, cheating on me, treating me like garbage? The majorit of that relationship was spent with me trying to save him. And I was a failure, because he didn't want help, he didn't think he needed help, and I was kicked to the curb numerous times. This last time I thought would be, well, the last time. And now he wants my help. What am I supposed to do? If I tell him no, then he really has no othr source of help. And then telling him no would have to mean saying goodbye again. And saying goodbye again would eat away at whatever heart I have left after everything that has happened. I don't think I would be able to say goodbye again, even if I had to. But what if I were to say yes? Then I would be entering a long, dark, possibly endless tunnel of unhappiness and suffering while I spend all my time and energy on saving someone else. Friends and family both have told me that I'm a different person without him, in a good way. So if I were to go back, even if it isn't necissarily for a fourth or fifth try at a relationship? It would put strain on everything else. And there would still be no one to save me. It won't be him, either. If he can't save himself, how can he save me? He's one of the reasons why I need saving! He can't save me from what he did. Life wasn't easy without him, but it was easier. Because then I could worry about myself, and not trying to fix someone else that I loved. And now I'm back on that track again. This is a never-ending circle. When will I have a moment to breathe? I feel like someone is taking my oxygen that I need to live, and using it to sustain his self. Not purposely--because he sees no other way to breathe his own air, and live for him self. And if I do say yes, and he does improve, what's stopping him from changing-again-back to his old ways? It's never happened any other way than that, so what would stop him this time? What would be different? It's just this unpleasant redundancy that sits there and festers, never fully healed. Well, I've babbled on long enough. If only I could memorize this little speech for when I am asked to explain myself to people... | | |
| VoteI woke up this morning to my mother both sneezing and swearing--something about the guinea pig bottle leaking, how much she hates sneezing...yeah. It was 7:15 in the morning. I was wide awake, but not ready to be awake. I just laid there thinking until I realized that there was nothing left to think about, the the previous subject that was disgracing my mind was one that I did not want to think about. See, I thought it had been a dream. He hadn't really tried to contact me again--I dreamt it. I was relieved. Until I checked my phone and found that it most certainly was not a dream, that it was real. I had actually woke up from receiving the message last night, and, after tearing up slightly, went back to sleep. I was pissed that it woke me up, especially because I was planning n putting my phone on vibrate so as to not wake up from anything, but then decided against it. I don't know what would have been worse, though. Waking up from the text, or having my phone on vibrate, and waking up to it in the morning. Either way, it has become a plague to my mood and my day. Many times I am quite good at understanding people. But him...well, not so much. I can't even begin to understand his motives now. Now he wants to talk? Now he's thinking of me? Really? What about when we were together? Or when he was lying to me? Cheating on me? Being rude to me? Was he thinking of me then? Of course not. But now, after months of ignoring my pathetic verbal advances, now he wants to talk. Well, now it's his turn to be ignored. Not to mention that this is what, the fourth time this has happened? Maybe the third. I lost count, honestly. I can't deal with that brand of pain anymore. It's been ailing me for too long, and I just can't do it. Of course I'd want to talk, maybe, if he catches me in a not pissed off mood, whilst I'm feeling particularly compassionate, but I must stop myself. Not even because pretty much everyone I know would be angry with me for reassociating myself with him in even the smallest way, but because I know that even the slightest thing would send me plummiting down the pit with him, such as it has in the past. We can't be friends, we can't be aquaintances. Everyone knows that. It's how we are. We can't limit our relationship to "just" something. The two of us, our history...it doesn't work that way. Everything would start again, and end the same way. Which is why I can't say anything. I can't reply. It's hard, yes. Because sometimes, part of me wants to talk, too. And I'd be a liar if I said I don't think about him. Now that's not saying all the thoughts are good ones, but still. I have a song, it makes me think of him. Well, a lot of songs do, but given the current situation at hand, there is a specific one...I thank Julie London and Arthur Hamilton for this... Now you say you're lonely
You cry the whole night through
Well, you can cry me a river, cry me a river
I cried a river over you
Now you say you're sorry
For bein' so untrue
Well, you can cry me a river, cry me a river
I cried a river over you
You drove me, nearly drove me out of my head
While you never shed a tear
Remember, I remember all that you said
Told me love was too plebeian
Told me you were through with me and
Now you say you love me
Well, just to prove you do
Come on and cry me a river, cry me a river
I cried a river over you | | |
| A Slow DescentI sit here as sort of a last resort today. Lately I've been feeling like that of a zombie. Zoned out, blank state, existing silently. Sleep deprivation and illness only adds to such zombie-like demeanor. I didn't want to be home right now. Not because I'm fighting with my dad. I'm not. I just don't want to be here. I wanted to drive aimlessly downtown, without any sort of destination, looking at the tall buildings and lake as I pass by. The only thing that kept me from doing so is the fact that my phone is nearly dead, which means I would be without a navigator. Then I'd be lost. And I would want to be lost, but I'd also want to be able to get home quickly as soon as I decide to become unlost. But lost I would remain without my navigator. When I pulled up in my driveway, the thing I wanted most in the world was for me to be laying in a field, watching the planes from General Mitchell land and take off. I could fall alseep, even, and wake-up just fine. But I'd want someone next to me. I'd want a cute, deep, smart, driven boy that would understand me to be next to me, to fall asleep with me. Or maybe I'd just fall asleep and he'd lay there next to me, just thinking about things, ocassionally looking over and/or brushing a strand of hair from my face. He wouldn't think I'm weird at all for wanting to lay there and look at the sky and watch the planes. Maybe he'd take me there by surprise, even. We could just talk and listen. Anything, nothing, and everything. We'd cover it all. That's how we'd spend our days, at least until the winter months. I don't want to hold my breath though. I mean, what are the chances of that happening? Of course if I want it to happen, it won't. Only in the movies. Not in reality. Maybe I need to start living in reality. One problem: it's boring and lonely. I don't even really have anything to say on here. I just fear that if I stop typing, then there will absolutely be nothing else for me to do. I could clean my room...Possibly. I could read more of New Moon. I really love that book. It makes me sad, though. Life would be so much more itneresting if things like vampires and werewolves actualy existed. Call me weird, I don't care. And plus, I envy Bella's relationship with Jacob. I want one like that. Hmph. Again, let's not hold my breath. I guess this is today's goodbye, then. Peace. | | |
| It's Only A Paper MoonIt's weird how so many of the things that make me happiest are also the things that are capable of making me feel the most lonely. Tomorrow should be interesting. Two exams, then graduation practice. Then a funeral, and then a night out with the group that is becoming regulars for the weekend, paired with a hard cement floor with oodles of people I don't yet know. Tomorrow is going to be a day where so many things sink in at once. One being that I'm graduating, and leaving high school behind. Another, that B.J is actually really gone. And yet another, that despite the crowds that parties bring, I will once again be alone in a room overly filled with people and noise. It's supposed to be a "Stoplight Party." Singles wear green, taken is red, and hard to get is yellow. So I guess I should just be honest to any green guys and wear yellow. I feel like wearing green would be broadcasting "Hey, I'm a loner, come talk to me, I'm easy." But yellow could be a sort of deterrance. Wearing both would make me appear as some sort of off-season Packer fanatic (nothing against the Packers, of course).Yellow is looking like a good idea, though. I highly doubt I'll meet my ideal guy at a party. Of course I could be wrong, but probably not. Most guys who go to parties go with the ideal of hooking up with some chick, and I don't want that. Meanwhile, I'm logged onto Stickam, but I can't tell if it's working or not. Like, my webcam on my computer works, but I can't tell if it works on there cause it's just a black screen. So it that black screen me, or the lack of someone on the other end? I don't actually really want to chat with people, especially via webcam. I just feel the need to use my webcam because I have one. That probably hardly makes sense, but I hardly make sense like 90% of the time. Hm. Oh! It just made a noise, but I don't know what it means. Hmph. My tv just froze. In the OC episode I just watched before this current one, Marissa is sitting on a bench with Ryan in this gorgeous dress, and she's shivering. And he, (who is looking handsome in a tux, mind you) is like, "Are you cold?" and Marissa goes, "Like always," or something. and Ryan takes off his tux outercoat and wraps it around her, and they're SO CLOSE, like they're about to kiss, and then her phone rings...I want that to happen to me! It'd be so cute. Dress, tux, and all. Sigh. Well, I guess not necessarily a dress and/or tux, but it'd add to it. But I feel like all the guys I meet are either sleezeballs, or just interested in other kinds of girls. Not really anyone is ever interested in me. I'm not trying to get all down on myself and insecure or anything, I'm being honest. They're just not. Maybe it's just because I'm so guarded now. I don't think I ever used to be so guarded, but I guess that is one of the main demonstrating factors of how much I've changed. I guess I'm just waiting for that person who is willing to climb over the wall I've constructed. Someone who I want to climb over. I mean, I'm sure somewhere there's a few people who might try to climb over, but I want to keep them out. Which I guess furthers my belief that I should definitely wear yellow to this party...Sigh. | | |
| The Trapeze SwingerI honestly do not really feel like I just lived my last day of high school. It's like...weird. I associate high school with youth, and now that I'm done, I feel like my youth is over. But I still feel young, and so therefore feel like I am this fragile, naive thing being thrust into an environment I am not so sure I'm ready to face. At the very least, though, I am thankful I have some of my best friends living the same thing simultaneously. It's going to be odd, college. College! It sounds so...old. As far as many people are concerned, I still look like I'm fourteen (or 'not a day older than twelve' according to an elderly gentleman). It's just weird. That's really all I can say to describe it. Hm.
Anywho. I am actually very bewildered at the situation currently at hand with me and a certain male. My brain hurts whenever I try to comprehend what goes on in that dense skull of his. After everything that he did to me, then ignoring me for three months like I didn't exist, now he decides that it's a good time to try and talk to me. And I'm not having any of it. The chances numbered too many, and the chances blown number even more than that. A line needs to be drawn, and while it very well should have been drawn like, almost two years ago, it is happening now. And that line, mind you, is impenetrable. I mean, will someone please tell me why I should have the obligation to answer him back now when he did everything he did and then ignored me? I mean, what the hell? I really honestly wonder if he's retarded sometimes. I'm not trying to be mean. Like, I honestly have wondered that. It's like we can be okay whenever it's convenient for him. Well, what about me? "Okay, I'm done being the world's largest and most pathetic asshole, so can we like, uh, talk now? But once I decide to be an asshole again, I'm just going to let you know by NOT SAYING ANYTHING. Yuh. Bye now." Heh. Not happening. I'm past that. I've learned my lesson, finally. I am no longer going to allow myself to let him hurt me. He may have done all those horrible things, but I was the one who allowed it to happen & allowed him to treat me like that. It's a bit embarassing, but I'm also glad it happened because it was one massive learning experience. So I guess if I ever do talk to him again, I should thank him in providing the base knowledge for my education in Relationshits 101.
How hm. I spent like, twenty minutes babbling on here instead of studying for my math exam tomorrow. It's weird, going in that classroom, because B.J. sits in my row. And while an empty desk is not something out of the ordinary, his is, because we all know why it's empty. I can't help but just like, stare at it, and wonder if someone unknowingly sits there in another hour. I wonder how Mr. T feels, since he admitedly was not too fond of B.J. What's worse in that class is B.J.'s really good friend, who sits behind me. He just walked passed his desk today so slowly, and just ever so slightly touched the empty desk with his fingers. I was so sad about it yesteday, but what made me more sad was seeing the people who were really close to B.J. in tears and sobs. And his usually tough-yet-jolly friends all silent, blank, and teary-eyed. I just sort of broke down. Tragedy is terrible and, in some cases, completely unexpected, as this one was. We are all so privelaged and blessed, though, to know he's in heaven and to know that one day we will be to. There's this analogy in one of my favorite books by Max Lucado. He writes that God is like an author. An author of the 'book' of our individual lives, as well as the author of just all of our lives as a whole. Then the book is read by us (aka we live our life/watch other people live their lives). We didn't write the book, so we don't know what's going to happen. We don't know the ending, we don't know the twists, we just don't know. But we read on, and gasp and laugh and cry and drop our jaws at all these different parts, and meanwhile, the author just sits quietly and all-knowingly, because he wrote the book, just like God 'wrote' our lives. B.J's death was a tragic chapter, but it's not the end. None of us saw it coming, but God knew about it, and he knows that good that's going to come of it. So, yeah.
It's odd how I can start with one thing in mind, then by the time I am done typing I cover like a zillion different subjects. Oh well. I'm going to sleep.
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