Window

Nov 17th, 2009 7:51:56 pm - Subscribe
Mood: tranquil

So much for shooting stars. I thought I knew what love was. Apparently love is getting hurt and still wanting to forgive the person.

Nay. Love to me will always be that bi-curiosity that slowly transitioned into alcoholic haze and unsatisfied longing for what once was.

Girls hurt me the most often. Guys send me into drunken slumber. I may never understand my sexuality. I may never know what love is.

I wish to do away with close relationships. I want to pack up my Xu and move to a city where no one knows me or anyone I once knew. I want to live for me and my future. Life is an unnecessary, complicated nuisance.

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The Meeting

Nov 9th, 2009 12:39:04 pm - Subscribe
Mood: Remorseful

We used her and tortured her.
We never expected her to burn.
We carelessly mixed chemicals because we could.
We watched as she survived the storm.
We lit off fireworks because we knew no one would stop us.
We observed the faulty wiring but did not feel it was worth the cost to repair.
She felt sick and quietly begged for help.
We did not hear her.
We were too busy using her beauty for our own benefit.
We believed she was strong, that she would live forever.
She was unable to survive the blast.
We did what we could but we could not save her.
It was too late.
But we will never learn.

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Regrets

Nov 3rd, 2009 10:38:48 pm - Subscribe
Mood: powerless

I allowed myself to fall in love.
It was a mistake that felt too right.
All I knew was alcohol and casual sex.
He turned me around and made me feel things.
I thought I deserved those feelings.
I thought that feeling was worth potential pain.
I realized I was right all along.
It is better not to feel.
It is better not to trust.
I would rather have a stranger lie to me.
At least I know they lie.


I would rather have her telling me the way it is than having him pretend he is in love with me.
I regret the loss of my best friend.
I will never have another Chelsea.
There is no one left to tell me the truth.

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Girl

Oct 27th, 2009 9:29:03 am - Subscribe
Mood: swanky

I imagine that nothing can be said or done to make his mistakes disappear. He says he's here now and that should be enough to prove that I'm important.

It could also just go to show what a coward he is.

Anything he says from now on will have no meaning. He told me he loved me and that he wanted to spend the rest of his life making up for all the pain he caused me. He said those things while waiting for the right time to dump me and pursue a real relationship with her.

He screwed it up with her and now he's stuck with me. So of course he's going to try and make this work, he has no better options.

Do I allow myself to be taken in by the flowers, treats, rocks, and cliches?

Of course not. This is me we're talking about.

I'll go about this until I find someone better. I'll listen to the words, pretending they are true long enough to get through another night. I'll pretend I'm not hurt by the months of lies. I'll fall into a peaceful slumber when he says he stays up late talking to god-knows-who online. I'll smile when he spouts off all the things that usually make girls feel loved.

I'll feel better when I replace him.

Until then I suppose I'll give him the picture perfect, reality-free relationship he once had online.

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Digging Up My Old Rejections

Oct 26th, 2009 12:35:59 am - Subscribe
Mood: intoxicated

I will never be anything more than just Grampa.

To anyone.

I will never be the love of anyone's life.

I am now and forever will be the girl who was just good enough.

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Honesty Like I'm Leaving

Oct 10th, 2009 11:32:38 pm - Subscribe
Mood: troubled

Things can never be the same.
He can never make me feel the same as he had before.
My feelings were based on lies he told.
Simple words such as "I love you" escalated into delusions.
I made my plans around him.
I sacrificed so much to make it work.
He had little interest in me.
I believed there was so much more.
I believed I was the only special one.
How could I believe differently when he never told me differently.
He left me believing I was special.
Touching me shortly after expressing love for another.
I should accept that I have him now.
Instead I dwell on the past.
The past has made the present meaningless.
I will never know my value.

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Babybook

Sep 24th, 2009 5:57:03 pm - Subscribe

Facebook is a social networking site. It is intended for people who want to stay in contact with their old friends and stalk them accordingly.

Why in the hell would anyone create a facebook account for their child?

I understand if you want your friends to see pictures of your kid. I have no objection to that. Just put in on your own facebook. Create albums for your kid. Make your status about your kid. Hell, put your kid's face as your profile picture if it's so damn imporant.

I wouldn't want my mother creating an account for me. I wouldn't even want my mom to get facebook and add me as a friend, let alone create an account for me, add all of her friends and proceed to put embarassing baby photos all over the goddamn internet.

Why do we use facebook?

It's an easy way of sorting out your address book and contacting people without picking up the phone or sending an awkward email.

Why would a newborn baby need facebook?

So they can immediately be friends with all his/her parent's friends before they can even talk.

It seems like exploitation to me. Putting up pictures of your baby so your friends can see is one thing. Adding all your friends to your child's account is another.

What happens ten years from now when your child actually uses facebook for its intended purpose and decides that he/she no longer wants to be friends with all your old drinking buddies?

Ouch.

This is retarded. Don't create an account for your child and insist that all your friends befriend him or her. It's just stupid. Do it the old fashioned way and make a damn scrapbook.

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Rock, Paper, Scissors, Lizard, Spock

Sep 5th, 2009 12:52:21 am - Subscribe

Masturbation has become very difficult. I don't even know what I'm into anymore.

I guess I'm into Chris.

Perhaps I should take Bob's advice and go a month without sex and see where that takes me. It seems like a temporary period of abstinence would solve any sexual confusion that I'm currently experiencing.

It's so hard for me to go a week. Sometimes days without sex seems like eternity.

I've noticed that after going several days/weeks without sex, I grow somewhat afraid of it. I imagine that's why I was an alcoholic a year ago. In order to defeat my fear of sex, I had to be drunk and I had to do it all the time. So do I really like sex?

Do I like smoking?

Two things that constantly run through my mind:

I wish I was having sex.
I wish I was smoking.

Maybe if I quit both I'll realize how little I need either. I'll be able to focus on the real issues.

Like how many repeaters I will need to defeat the zombies.

If he was here I wouldn't need to masturbate. I would have been asleep hours ago. Lying next to him offers a sense of security. Touching myself is a pathetic compromise for his absence. It's no wonder I can't sleep or get off.

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When I was your age, you were sixteen.

Aug 26th, 2009 2:54:56 pm - Subscribe
Mood: different

Tiny girl and her ninja kitty.

I'd kill to be a cartoon character.

Exaggerated persona + memorable sidekick + obligatory prop.

I think I'd rather be the sidekick, they're generally the funny one.

What would my huge dilemma be?

Boyfriend knocking up a scary girl makes better reality.

Persistant acne? Challenging college courses? Boy in algebra who doesn't know I exist?

If you ever think your life is interesting enough to write about, try drawing it first. It's so much easier to see how fucking boring you are.

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Me llamo Chita

Aug 25th, 2009 8:57:11 pm - Subscribe

Things are exactly how I wanted. So why am I unhappy?

I'm terrified he'll resent me years from now.

Yeah, it would be fantastic if he chose me over his child. We could be together and pretend this never happened. Heather would no longer be in the picture and I'll have him all to myself with few worries.

Until a few years pass and he starts to wonder what his child is like. Is it a boy or a girl?

I won't always be pretty. My hair will fade into a dull silver. My skin is already beginning to resemble the pile of laundry on my floor. I'll interrupt his games to discuss our feelings when he is only growing bored with me.

He'll wish he had just done the honorable thing. With me, he'll tack on a few more years of fun. He'd have so much more with her.

I could kill myself for all I've put him through.

I should have just taken my things and focused on my classes. I should have avoided this altogether. It's probably not too late.

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Status Update

Jul 28th, 2009 6:33:00 pm - Subscribe
Mood: Confused

Sometimes when I talk about the people I've slept with, things I've done, random past happenings, etc. I have to wonder if I'm lying. I was sitting outside smoking, thinking about this guy I slept with quite regularly about a year ago and the way he would pin his hair back when he was a girl. I often make references to how I "dated that tranny" and tell tales of all the little adventures I had with him. Anymore they all just seem like stories.

We had arrangements to meet at the bar. I wore a rainbow dress from the 70s just to throw him off. I was too afraid to explain to the cops or my parents that I backed into a truck so I walked to the bar and created a story in the morning that I stick with to this day. I actually believe that story sometimes. I believe that I got up that afternoon to go to a job interview and discovered my bumper in that condition for the first time. I believed it when I explained it to the cops, my dad, and all my friends. Jarett is the only one who knows the truth. Until now, of course.

So I get confused at times. It's easier to just keep lying than to try and remember who actually knows the truth.

"Some ass backed into me!"

Could it be that I created other stories too? Like Jarett for instance; the stories I tell about him have amused so many people, I imagine it would be easy for me to get carried away. Is it possible that I dreamed the whole thing up? I still have him on facebook, I suppose I could just ask him.

How could I have possibly changed this much in only a year? This time last year I was pining for some guy who was totally out of my league. I was preparing myself for Chelsea's arrival and searching for one night stands without the help of dance parties. I was only finding happiness on Family P&A Night. Puzzle and Chris were not yet a part of my life and I had no idea what I was in for.

I don't know if I've really changed all that much or if the people in my life just got rearranged. Shan went from the one who rented my room to my best friend. Chris replaced Chelsea. Adam was the perfect roommate I will never see again. I still throw up when I'm upset but I no longer puke for Josh. I'm terrified of sex so I bite my lip and only sleep with the one I trust, rather than drowning the fear with alcohol each time. I keep telling myself I will buy that ipod next month, knowing I never will.

I'm still Ev.

I have to stop fighting the past. All my experiences happened for a reason, and yes, they did happen. I think. I'm not clever enough to create my life in my mind.

Insanity must be amazing.

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UnikoRn

Jul 27th, 2009 7:42:38 pm - Subscribe
Mood: disillusioned

I've come to the realization that there is no after life. There is no higher power. There is only us and what we see. If a tree falls in the forest, it makes no sound. There is no tree, actually. There is only what surrounds us. The internet and television lie.

I still think leprechauns are out there, stealing our socks and jewelry. I believe that wearing a Saint Anthony medallion will help me find my camera and prevent me from losing my phone. I think my Great Grandmother Ester follows me around, influencing my decisions. I am convinced that the only reason witchcraft doesn't work is because I'm not doing it right and I should consider joining a coven. Puzzle talks to me. Karma keeps the universe intact and our world will end if things are not balanced. Bob Ross was put in charge of painting the sky every thirty minutes and the moving clouds are just wet paint. Wearing a rosary means surrendering to Mary's prayers and is a practice that will save us in our most desperate hour.

I lose touch with reality. I know these things are completely absurd. There is no scientific evidence in favor of my beliefs. These are the lies we feed our children so they do not feel so alone when we cannot be there for them. These are ideas that help us through each day.

Faith is real. Reality is what we perceive.

I perceive leprechauns.

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Defeated

Jul 26th, 2009 11:29:40 am - Subscribe

I watch the moon change color, location, and size.

It never has to say 'goodbye' since my body weakens into the damp ground before it collides with the sun.

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Infertility

Jul 25th, 2009 7:08:20 am - Subscribe

I watch her feed my nephew. She knows exactly how to hold him to end the tears. She knows when he is done eating when I would have stopped shoveling the mushy cereal into his mouth long ago. I was not aware that they made travel high chairs or three types of strollers. Rice flakes never come out of the carpet. Accidents and injuries aren't a big deal to them if you don't react.

This is why I am not the pregnant one. This is why I will never be a mother.

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Stay

Jul 25th, 2009 12:16:59 am - Subscribe

I no longer wonder if I mean it.
I only wonder if he does.
He meant it before, or so he thought.
I always knew I was lying.
I looked away, I took it back.
I shook with fear, wishing I believed it.
Now I know for sure.
I'm afraid he doesn't.
I fear he feels the way I felt.
Numb and trapped.
Quietly feeling around for the exit.

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Why is Your Stuff Still Here

Jul 19th, 2009 4:34:38 pm - Subscribe
Mood: discarded

No one ever really leaves. I smelled Meghan at work today. Adam is there every time I lay on the couch watching Scrubs. The smell of alcohol and latex breathe life into those I murdered with my mind.

Chelsea screams "Grampa" in my ear. I see her in the mesh shower strainer that I cannot bring myself to throw away. I watch her fucking in the porno she bought for my birthday. She burns my wrist everytime I wash my hands. Every taste and smell has a remark that she etched into me. She pierces me each time a ring falls out. My ear swells up and she calls me a whiner when I quietly sip my vodka.

She'll never leave me. Everyone else comes and goes but she is there with me every step of the way. Pushing me over and laughing at my misfortune.

I flip through the pictures and think of how much my life has changed since she left, but she's been here all along. Haunting me.

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Not a Lot of Girls

Jul 18th, 2009 5:48:23 pm - Subscribe
Mood: enamored

I want a time machine. I want to relive all of those times I took for granted. Our first kiss was less than memorable. I was incredibly baked and had absolutely no feelings for him. I had no feelings for anyone. All I wanted was sex. I remember wandering off hoping for someone to follow. Hiding around the corner, my heart racing, listening to his footsteps coming closer. I was afraid and unsure why, perhaps the idea of actually feeling something.

We laid side by side. My stoned attempts to sound insightful failed as usual. Blinded by the lacking in optical assistance, the midnight Autumn sky was a navy blindfold punctured hundreds of times, letting in bits of light.

Frightened by his loving words, I wrapped my legs around him, allowing him to kiss me. I forced my drunken state to take over, wishing he would not try to win me over this way. Refusing to allow any meaning, I ran inside to pursue a girl.

I drank to numb myself of the guilt of what I planned to do. I wanted them to take me with them, to add them to my list of sexual encounters. I had to show him that he did not mean anything and never would. But my conscience took over and I surrendered in his bed, wishing I had not overheard the accusations they made and drank more, hoping to forget.

I felt better when he came to bed but knew I would regret it.

From what I remember the sex was awful. My stomach had imploded earlier that evening and I was too drunk to move. He was another name to check off the list but it meant so much more to him. This knowledge forced a longing for it all to be over. His desperate attempts to please me only hurt worse, as they would for months following. The sex got progressively better; however, I grew ill each time I was reminded of someone else or risked feeling something.

I cried the first time we made love. I was so overwhelmed with emotion that my eyes watered as I allowed myself to love him. The words slipped out, believing they didn't count in the highpoint of pleasure but when he said it back I thought I was going to faint.

I wish I could redo all the bad and visit the good. I want to feel my heart pounding in my chest the way it did the first time I told him I loved him. I want to go back and save him from the heartache I caused.

It's pretty bad when Xu tells me I'm being nausiating.

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Xubelette

Jul 12th, 2009 2:15:21 pm - Subscribe

He eyed the door nervously as his tail thumped angrily on my bed. He put his little paw on my hand as if to reassure me.

We're both hungry but won't risk dealing with the insanity.

Imprisoned.

We still has each uffer.

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Gone for Good Again

Jun 30th, 2009 10:55:23 pm - Subscribe
Mood: pouty

I watched a gaggle of drunks attempting to relocate a dead car during a cigarette binge. I wish that was my dilemma. I wish I was just another drunk girl looking for a ride home.

Stumbling upon another pathetic drunk looking for a good time.

I could sleep with him, get a ride home, never see him again, make it to work on time, and spend the afternoon sleeping of the regret. I'd kill to have that back. Temporary highs to balance the blackouts and sadness from rejection and disapating text messages from those who seemed like someting more.

To actually experience fulfillment from this lifestyle.

But instead I lay here, listening to the whirring of the familiar ceiling fan, mutterings of video games and other computer related nonsense, and the nerve wracking tapping keyboard belonging to a very distant boyfriend.

My stomach turns into knots. My brain rattles around in my head when I reposition myself.

Chelsea would be satisfied. She would allow me into her bed as she clacks away to her current significant other. She would tell him or her all about how badly Grampa screwed up this time. I would pretend she means everything to me. The alcohol would grant me permission to believe it.

Instead I go to bed angry and worried about the same old things. I go to work sober, thinking about how soon I can finish school, what I should do with my money, how I can make this absurd relationship work.

I miss contemplating suicide over the little things. Now ending my life seems irresponsible. I have to think things through now. I'm a dreamer but I'm too realistic.

I currently spend too much of my life worrying.

Must obtain Valium.

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My Next Delphos

Jun 27th, 2009 10:49:01 pm - Subscribe
Mood: Negative

She must curl her hair with coffee cans when she goes out. Her fingers stained with nicotine. She lives in the house where Jenkins shot himself. Why did she put up that fence, what does she do in there? Avoid that house, run past on your way to school. She doesn't belong in this town, I hear she's from the coast, I'm not sure which. What self-respecting 40 year old sports a nose ring? I've never seen anyone do that before. I once heard her tell Malcolm that she chose to be a lesbian because it suited her personality. It's a good thing I don't have a daughter, I'd never let her leave the house with that woman running around this town. Who does she think she is? Trying to get a job at the high school, I can't believe someone like that could get a degree, she doesn't seem like she's played a sport in her life, how did she even get into a university? Does she even have a job? How can she afford that house if she isn't working? I was hanging sheets on the line one day and I heard a ruckus so I looked over there were all sorts of ugly sculptures and unusual projects. I wondered if maybe she sells that crap online but Jen at the post office says that she's never been in to send any packages. My next guess would be that she sells drugs but no one in this town would buy that stuff except maybe Fuller and everyone knows he grows all his own and his neighbors say they've never seen her over there. Maybe someone should call animal control if only to investigate so we know what goes on inside that house. There are always a dozen cats sitting on her lawn, I'm sure there are more inside. Karen at the store says she never buys normal food but she buys several bags of cat food every week, I'm sure that's why she's so thin and sickly. I don't know who she's trying to impress, it's not like anyone in this town would ever look twice at her.

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Life Retraction

Jun 20th, 2009 5:19:10 pm - Subscribe
Mood: ill

Growing sicker with every ounce of doubt that piles on with each fight.

I won't eat until it's over.

My eyes are moist. I will make it through this. I was never this sick when I was drinking.

Is it all worth it to see and feel the one I'm sleeping with?

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It was the Chops

Jun 19th, 2009 9:59:27 pm - Subscribe
Mood: withdrawn

Maybe I'm not taking this seriously, maybe I'm just giving up again.

I accepted three numbers and a party invitation tonight. Jeremy is still talking to me and I still have my youth and beauty and a hundred names.

I guess you could say I've had enough. It takes too much energy to make things work. It takes half this energy to start something new. Mostly because I know that nothing can possibly hurt as badly as this.

It's depressing, it will be tough. I've had worse. I can't make him love me. I can't make him see things my way. I can't keep trying if he's not willing. It's time to let him be.

I don't need this. I don't need this. I don't need this.

It would be so easy. It would be so rational.

Why can't I just say no?

Right, because he was the one who wanted something more than just sex. Leaving him would be leaving the one person in this town who doesn't just want me for the night.

I have a feeling there are going to be a lot of those people and a lot of those nights.

For once I'm not looking forward to it.

I will be giving up on sobriety and monogamy, because it's just my nature. There is no way I can get through the loss of the most important person in my life.

His creation falls to pieces with my plans that burn beside me.

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New Mother

Jun 9th, 2009 2:57:48 pm - Subscribe
Mood: quiet

So sorry to scare you, Shan.

I tried to suck Xu's tail up with the vacuum. He did not approve.
Bar fight?
Ha! This is why I don't shave.

I was violated, Shannon. This is what I do when I remember; when I'm sober. This is what happens when I remember the way they touched me. Sometimes I can make it go away but when I can't...

I wrecked my bike.
I have three brothers, what do you expect?
I climbed through barbed wire.
Fell down a hill when I was playing with my friends.
I don't know where I got that one.
...

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Curtains of Hair

Jun 7th, 2009 7:48:30 pm - Subscribe

So giving up has become a daily occurrence for me. No one should ever take me seriously. And if they do, I shouldn't take them seriously.

I want to start going to confession. I want to travel around the state to different Catholic churches, confessing all the things I have done. I want to tell each priest that I masturbated in the last confessional while listening to the nice man speak to me.

I want to discuss all the dirty things I have done and that have been done to me. I want to go into graphic detail about each sexual encounter. I want do describe my favorite positions and how each one brings me closer to God.

I want to actually masturbate in the confessional. I want to describe how wonderful it feels and I want him to join me. I want to hear him moaning in the booth next to me as I tell him all the different ways I like to touch myself.

It's difficult to write about something you've never experienced.

I will never have the courage to allow myself the ability to write about it.

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Epidermis

Jun 5th, 2009 3:31:18 pm - Subscribe
Mood: abandoned

One more night he talked me into sleep. I woke with minimal nightmares. Perhaps this will not be as challenging as I had anticipated. Perhaps I really can do better.

Better=alone.

I decided I don't even need Emporia. As long as we end it now there will be no need for such events. I see now that he is no longer willing to take that extra step for me, he never was serious about marrying me. Why should I care what he does with his life or his child? It is he who shut me out. He is no longer a part of my life. He is only a blip in this unusual life of mine. He is only another boy who forced me out of my numb state, tortured me while I was vulnerable, then turned me down when I offered to stick around.

He is no better than Josh Neusome. I have been raped and rejected once again.

But I can handle it this time. I won't cry this time. I know now that it's not my fault. I did everything I could. He's the one under the delusion that I could never possibly love a child that is not mine. Or perhaps that I shouldn't love a child that isn't mine. That stepparents are accurately portrayed in fairy tales. Evil monsters who only want title and fortune. It his he who believes the mother and the father should put their happiness on hold as they fight in front of their child because it's better for the kid than being separated. That he doesn't deserve me because he screwed up and I don't deserve him because I'm not willing to let him move in with another girl. That I don't deserve to help the love of my life take care of his child because it didn't fall out of my vagina.

Ev, it's so much more complicated than that.

I know dear, you slept with someone who doesn't want you to be with me and if you're not strong enough to stand up for the me then you probably don't love me as much as you say you do.

I don't need to move. It's all perfectly clear. He is just another person in this town who doesn't love me. It's just going to take a while to stop loving him.

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Pretend

Jun 4th, 2009 10:35:52 pm - Subscribe
Mood: alone

I had an easy day at work. This little boy with a mohawk approached me. He was so excited when I said "Hi" to him. Every time I walked out to my cart he would yell some sort of greeting to me. His father sat in front of the room, smoking, watching his children play. Eventually the boy came upstairs and asked me my name. He waited outside the room and smiled each time he saw me. I let him sit in the room and tell me about his trip. He would run down to tell his father and brother about how great I am.

I walked downstairs for my break and the boy stopped me and asked if I would be his girlfriend. I sat down by him, lit a cigarette and told him I would love to as long as he promised to never hurt me. This did not seem like a difficult task to him. He took my hand in his and told me how pretty I was.

After I completed my rooms he followed me back to the cart room and asked me if I was leaving. I told him I was. He seemed disappointed when I told him that to be a good boyfriend he had to let me go.

"I don't want you to go. You don't have to be my girlfriend anymore, that was just pretend. I want you to be my dad's girlfriend. He's too old to pretend."

When I finished stocking my cart I walked toward the main building past the man with the cigarette, my pretend boyfriend following. He crawled onto his father's lap and said "That girl you like has to go home now, maybe we'll see her tomorrow."

I drove home to my real boyfriend and crawled into bed with him in hopes that someday his child doesn't feel responsible for his loneliness.

Such a shame for us to give up like this. So sad that we've done all we're willing to do for each other. This is the one thing I truly regret failing.

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How Long Again

May 31st, 2009 2:53:52 pm - Subscribe
Mood: violated

I spent most of my morning spinning in circles.

Last night was odd to say the least. The familiar feeling I got as he cautiously placed his hand on my lower back. Pretending I don't notice him staring at me, wanting me, as I gulp mind altering substances. Following him to the dark bedroom where I know he's going to attempt to pursue me. The awkward, drunken, pantomimed disinterest.

I can't decide if I really wanted it. I knew it wouldn't be worth it. I knew I'd have to run home drunk and probably crying. Knowing I screwed it all up once again.

I allowed him to kiss me several times, I felt obligated. For a moment I forgot where I was, who I was and who I was with. Am I really enjoying this or do I just feel like I have to be here?

I was honest. He took my drink and set it aside. We sat on the porch and talked about our feelings. I told him about the time frame between now and 6 years ago. I told him about my problems and how I was desperately trying to get better. He reassured me that we wouldn't go any farther than cuddling and perhaps a few kisses. I couldn't stop thinking about Chris.

What is he doing right now? Is he asleep? Why was he so anxious to get me out of the house? Is he with her right now? He's going to be so disappointed. I wish I was with him now.

I contemplated this cuddling. I tried to tell him I needed to leave, he grew progressively sadder as I tried to tell him I didn't want to remember him as a mistake. He took my hand and brushed my hair aside. I sighed, wanting the attention, wanting to leave. I thought about how Chris would react, why the hell should he care, he does this all the time. Crawling into bed with someone else, comforting them, making things temporarily easier. Why does he get to do it once a week but when the thought even crosses my mind I feel like I'm doing something wrong?

That's all I was doing. I wanted to make it easier. It would be easier to just stay, I won't have to feel bad about drinking their alcohol and cutting out early. Just stay. It will be more simple. Chris won't ask questions, just hold the poor kid. Give him one night in your arms, no one needs to know.

How many of my sexual encounters consisted of me taking the easy way out of a misunderstanding? Oh good I get a place to stay tonight, oh right, he just wants sex. Well, he did give me a ride...

He kissed me behind the ear as more tequila passed my lips. He placed his hand on my shoulder, moving downward, dragging his lips down my neck. I took off running when he bit down. I suppose that is where I draw the line. There is only one person who can do that to me and Nathan isn't that person.

Where the fuck am I, what was I doing, why did he, why did I, what was I thinking, what was I drinking?

I dreamed of lounging in lawn furniture, singing along with Carly Simon as Mrs. Gould painted the porch. We had just finished the song when my alarm went off. No nightmares tonight, only horrid memories of reality. The screams did not wake me this morning. The sound of my own moaning lulled me into sleep.

3431 allsoap bag blue
Rachel go back and reclean the bathroom in 21.
4221 cupcup bathmat
Rachel?
Sorry Marilyn, the ground won't stop moving.
Don't let it hit you on the head.

They don't pay me enough to work this hung over.

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Giving Up or Changing for the Better

May 29th, 2009 9:00:14 pm - Subscribe
Mood: unfulfilled

You can do better.

Why do women always tell their girlfriend that the man they are with isn't worthy of their companionship? They always tell them they deserve more. That they shouldn't date anyone less than perfect.

Where is this mystery man? Where is the man of my dreams? Should I go to more bars? Where is this adorably geeky guy who loves me more than anything? Who craves any word that pops into my mind and trembles at the sight of my body?

He is in Ellsworth, crying because he entered my life when I was unwell. Because I screwed everything up with my confused selfishness.

I must forget all that.

I signed away all my rights when I asked him out. By agreeing to be his girlfriend, I agreed to all that follows:

Only seeing him when he has the time.
Allowing him to sleep in another girl's bed.
Pretending I'm fine so he can take care of other things without worrying about me.
Never revealing any trace of bitterness towards someone I'm intensely jealous of.
Stepping aside as he moves in with her.
Waiting patiently.
Allowing him to see his child with no hope of ever being part of his/her life.
Allowing his ex to say mean things to me without standing up for myself.
Allowing her to treat my boyfriend like shit as he does everything he can to work things out.
Comforting, yet fruitlessly unrealistic planning.
Living each day with him as if it is my last, as any talk of the future is too sensitive or perhaps hopeless.

I will never marry him. He only wants me here because I am the only one who is nice to him regardless of his actions. I am the only one who is dumb enough to stick around this long. Once the baby comes, I will no longer be of any assistance. I will only be a burden. He will spend all of his time with his child and I will have to wait for hours on the offchance that he'll sign on to messenger. He will tell me about how hard his day was, I will feel bad and wish that I could hold him and make everything better. I'll go to bed, several hours before I need to wake, and cry because my boyfriend is in another girl's bed, taking care of her child.

Eventually I'll come to my senses and move far away where I can take care of my sick brother, wishing I had done just that a long time ago.

My plans of a single life in Lawrence will finally be complete. I will finish my education and begin working my way out of college debt. Someone might come along and spark my interest but I won't plan on starting a relationship. A life of independence will be so much more fulfilling anyway.

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Eargasm

May 23rd, 2009 3:02:45 pm - Subscribe
Mood: sour

Things have to change.

Again.

I didn't think it was a big deal. I still don't think it's a big deal but I can't let anything happen again. I have to make sure the illness doesn't get in the way of what I truly want. I've worked too hard to make this work. To make him happy. I can't do this to him. I can't allow anyone to worry. I play it off really well but then I slip up. I talk about what's really going on. I say stupid things when the oxygen escapes my brain. I say shallow things when the sickness progresses. This isn't who I want to be. I can't screw this up. He doesn't need this.

I'm torn. I can't have it both ways. I have to remember what is most important to me before I let this superficial mindset consume me once more. Before it destroys the person I've worked to become.

Moderation. Timing. Caution. Water.

I have to be more careful.

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Dead Babies, Dead Boars

May 15th, 2009 2:59:33 pm - Subscribe

I keep having dreams where I'm given a body that I'm expected to dispose of.

This hour calls for several cigarettes I cannot allow myself. My fingers are bleeding, my teeth are shaking. I love my parents but I need my fix.

My camera is no where to be found. I have no idea how long I can pull this off.

These are the things I wish I could say out loud.

There is no one I can talk to. No one to help me anymore. My brother is upset with me for my revealing outburst. My parents are completely unaware of anything I wish to rant about. Jeremy is no longer in the picture. Chris simply does not have the time for my trifles.

I drove past his old house. Two new cars sat out front. He no longer waits for me when I come to town. He no longer knows when I'm near. I drove through this sleepy town, imagining myself on his moped. The wind blowing through the hair escaping my pink helmet. The people laughing because we were just that darling together.

The romance, the laughter, the joy has now slipped away. I'm left once again, completely alone. Another summer sits motionless in front of me.

Work. Work. Panic. Drink. Work.

School. My life has become so automated. I put coins in the slot and watch as the world drops fattening, unsatisfying, overpriced snacks at my feet.

I'm bored. I'm tried. I'm sick of this lifelessness that is my daily routine.

My idea of spontanaity is cleaning my house.

I am in desperate need of real human moments.

Paradoxically, I find myself preparing to hide again to avoid any further disappointment.

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