Various Sighs and Spiraling Eyes - Landlord and the Rest of My Friends

Landlord and the Rest of My Friends

May 22nd, 2010 10:43:44 pm - Subscribe
Mood: Exhausted
Currently Listening To: Hoarders online

I am at everyone else's mercy for entertainment. And you wonder why I get so upset when you're not around. I have a sheetless twin sized bed now. Twenty square feet where I can relax and enjoy shoelessness. The remaining walking space is reserved for thirty-two boxes of belongings I once had. Puzzle licks glue and bits of carpet padding off of his paws. My eggs, my wall of shoes and Mr. Ska are the only things my eyes can work with. I am paying for cable but I let you take my television so I could pull up the rest of my carpet for you. I let you throw away my couch because it fit your needs at the time. Puzzle's cries echo more with tile floors. He has no carpet to topple over on.

Please hurry carpet slaves.

I am paying to live in these depressing walls. I am not the one receiving the new carpet. I am not benefiting from pulling up the moldy old carpet. The carpet that drove my guests' noses crazy. No, I am simply moving upstairs. I am paying to live here. She is not paying me to do her work.

I guess this is what we call friendship. Listening to you both bitch about each other. Reminded of all the reasons I can't stand either of you right now. Sacrificing my needs to get all of your work done so you'll stop complaining about how lazy the other person is.

I miss all of you.

Found Object

May 13th, 2010 2:15:52 am - Subscribe

For the rest of this week we can share a small bed
For the next three months you play repeat in my head.
Today I can cry when I hear you’ve moved on
Tomorrow I’ll work and the summer is gone

I glued glass to the wall.
I tried not to fall.

The draining routine has iced all around
Memories and missing pain you have found.
Please don’t come back.
Begin to unpack.
Choke on your lie.
Fuck your goodbye.

Au Clair De La Lune

Apr 25th, 2010 11:37:29 pm - Subscribe

One year ago I gave up everything I thought to be right. I let go of the idea that men were my toys. I no longer felt it acceptable to treat them the way I had been treated. I forced myself into a vulnerable state for which I will never forgive myself. I allowed myself to feel loved, even though I clearly was not.

This is why I love having a blog.
This is why I hate having a blog.

I permit myself the opportunity to hurt all over again. Rereading posts where I was completely oblivious to what was going on is probably enough to make me go completely insane.

Do I dare continue reading?
If only, if only
one last cigarette.
Emporia perhaps?

Dr. Poop, Classic Poop, Diet Poop and Salty Lemonade

Mar 7th, 2010 2:44:57 pm - Subscribe
Mood: beat

"Why is it that you always look so hot when you're depressed?"

I left work covered in toilet water. I figured it was time to request that my uniform be laundered.

Today I learned that it is simply impossible to explain the difference between the two "envelopes" when my audience can't differentiate between "good" and "well." I only tried because they seemed genuinely interested. I'm back to mispronouncing the verb for their sake. Or I could avoid using that word entirely, conversation isn't worth ignoring education.

I left work after cleaning only six rooms. It felt like I was there forever. My intestines are still freaking out about the spicy tuna lettuce wraps I attempted yesterday after work. So much for trying new things. My kitchen wreaks of failure. I doubt I'll ever finish the dishes. I'll eat off of the floor if I have to.

Sometimes I wish Xu had a facebook account so that I can leave him passive aggressive notes about tipping shit over, washing his face in the toilet and drying his paws on the toilet paper. Somehow I doubt anyone on facebook gives a shit that my special needs cat is still being special.

I haven't seen anyone all weekend. Shan has been out or sleeping, Lucas hasn't left Megan's. It hardly seems worth it to call anyone. I guess that's what you get when you attempt an exciting Friday night.

My face feels like it has been stuck in a dramatic frown ever since.

It's time to read.

Children

Feb 24th, 2010 10:34:37 am - Subscribe
Mood: Annoyed

I'm done interfering.
If you want to marry him, I will keep my opinions to myself.
I know how you feel about him.
I felt that way when I was your age.
It hurts to accept any criticism.
Divorce is expensive.
I hope you take that into consideration.
Have fun spending the rest of your life speaking pothead.
I can't wait for you to make this mistake.
You'll see that there is a massive difference between talking to someone online every night and living with said person.
Good luck with the disappointment.

Dear Apple

Feb 11th, 2010 10:54:55 am - Subscribe

Thank you for spending time, money and energy manufacturing your latest technological device. I'm sure many will benefit from having a laptop with no keyboard, multitasking or flash. I do not doubt for one second that dozens of people were sitting at the edge of their seats waiting for you to produce a giant iPod. Though I support you in the production of overpriced computers, could you please focus on making a super hardcore charger that doesn't suck or crap out after the first week of use? Thank you, Santa.

Warm regards,
Rachel

More Dreams

Feb 6th, 2010 6:32:06 pm - Subscribe
Mood: sleepless

It was required for one of my classes that I work for the show Basement Affair. I was to show up and help design the set and make props. I didn't want anyone, including Chris and Sophie, to know that I hadn't been going. Angie Prester kept calling me and telling me different things that I needed to come in and work on. Instead I made up stories about the things I did, such as training monkeys and setting up palm trees, similar to the ones Shan has in front of the house. It was incredibly difficult to lie to Chris and I constantly second-guessed the believability of the stories. Sophie and Chris both wanted to see all the work I did on the set when I suddenly realized I had no idea where this place even was.

Eric called me to let me know that Paul and Hally would be waiting for me in Lincoln. He gave me directions but no specifics about what I would be doing. I walked into the high school and immediately got lost. I couldn't figure out where to park so I just guessed and took the steering wheel inside with me. People were working on what appeared to be props, sets and costumes for a play. I was excited to be a part of this but a few people, including Rose Charvot and Lea Nondorf's mom told me I needed to park my car somewhere else, after seeing my steering wheel in hand. I kept getting lost in the building and people were staring at me like I didn't belong. At some point I decided I needed to steal something from the school but there was no room in my purse due to an oversize yearbook that I expected someone to sign, possibly Paul and Hally. While wandering around, I met up with three boys. We got into a fight outside, near a barbed wire fence. I attempted to fight them off using the yearbook but I was moving too slowly. We were all fighting until we ended up in my house where they just disappeared. Another boy came over to give me their names, emails and photos so that I could avoid them since I never really got a good look at their faces.

At some point I ended up in the grocery store in Russell with Chris. He was using his debit card in quarter machines to purchase all sorts of candy and crappy jewelry for me. I tried to act enthused but all I could think about was how much money he was wasting on that crap.

I woke up after this dream. I stared at the ceiling and images of Eric and I running around on an icy lake seemed to dominate the ceiling. The ice cracked and he fell in. I ran after him to pull him out but the water beneath the ice was carrying him farther away. I chased after him but I was unable to break the ice and I debated going back to the original hole and swimming after him but by then he had frozen and drowned.

Feb 10
I was in a single dorm room, asleep with several other people in the bed. It is possible but not likely that I was intoxicated. The kid from my lit class jumped into bed with me. I immediately started making out with him before I even knew who he was. I stopped him and asked who he was, we continued making out. I was trying to take off his clothes when he asked me about my boyfriend. I gave some bullshit about how our relationship is going to collapse under its own weight, he cheated on me so he deserves it, I'm ready for something new, etc. We stopped and started a few more times, and I felt other people shifting around in my bed. Chris, who happened to be laying at the foot of the bed got up to leave. The light went on and I started defending myself. I tried to tell him that I was too drunk to know who it was but he said that he had been awake the whole time and heard everything I said. I still tried to play off the drunk act but when he left, I turned to the new guy and commented on how we were finally alone. The location changed a few time and I ended up in the guest room bed at my old house. The guy disappeared but Chris started bringing in my things. He was carrying a giant box of beads that I had lent to his mother, apparently. I told him I didn't want any of my stuff back and he should leave me alone. I just wanted to finish what I had started with the guy but he was long gone. Chris and I were somehow able to make up. He was laying on the bed next to me and I still pretended to be drunk. I pretended that I thought he was the new guy and I talked to him as such. I kept trashing on "Chris" and explained how it was his fault for my cheating because he didn't put out enough and it caused me to look for sex in other places. Chris played along but was entirely annoyed by it. When I was back in the dorms, Chris showed me a video that "Josh" had made about how much he wanted me. I pretended it was pathetic but I was secretly coming up with ways to meet up with him, without Chris finding out. At some point I was alone in my dorm room pondering my relationship with Chris and whether it was important enough not to sleep with the new guy when I suddenly realized that I can't afford a single dorm and woke up. It took me a while to figure out if I had actually cheated.

March 4ish
Clem sex dream.
Lesbian department store sex dream.
Giving birth to kitten.

Resolved with Pizza

Jan 29th, 2010 2:18:07 pm - Subscribe
Mood: alone

It's so easy to start a fight because I know how simple it is to resolve it.

"Wanna split a pizza?"

I don't understand what is so difficult about being apart. I imagine it's the familiarity aspect of it.

Any other day I would be sitting on the couch, like I am now, surfing, watching tv, coming up with dinner ideas, scolding Xu, and basically relaxing.

So why is this any different? Because I don't have the option of leaving. I'm out of gas and he's not here to help me out. If I get bored I don't have anyone to pester. I think of things to say but have no one to say them to.

No one to cook dinner for.
No one to dress up for.
No reason to straighten my hair.
No reason to shave.
No where to go.
No one to look at.

This is why it's hard. This has nothing to do with him. I'm just alone.

Don't Forget to Fly

Jan 28th, 2010 11:11:43 pm - Subscribe

I have filled my life with hostile people. Since high school it seems like everyone I know feels that they are somehow wronged by everyone around them.

Heaven forbid you take away someone's rights.
Even if they weren't using them.

Everyone acts like the world owes them something. Like they are entitled to anything they desire.

Let's all torture each other to get the things we want, then we can bitch about the war together since that was a personal attack and all.

You are not special.

Treat others as you wish to be treated.

No one is out to get you.

It would be incredibly conceited to think otherwise.

I am not Sorry

Jan 15th, 2010 2:35:41 pm - Subscribe
Mood: distant

I do not speak HTML.
I am not fluent in this other language you speak.
If I took my computer apart, I would not see how it works.
Rather, I would see art projects and pieces of jewelry.
I would not be lost without my computer, my TV, my camera, my phone or any other electronic device you seem to think I need.
I have no reason to purchase the latest or most expensive model of anything.
I like to turn the pages of my books.
I still enjoy my old cassettes.
I would rather put my money in savings, than blow it on the latest gaming system.
I value relationships with the people I see on a regular basis, not the ones I have online.
I value the people in my life more than the superficial material items I own.
I use my computer to pass time and type papers for class.
If I need to talk to someone, I would rather do it in person.
I do not make love to people over webcam.
My things do not own me.
I am tired of pretending to take interest in this pathetic, life-consuming, wallet-draining religion you call "Geek."
Excuse me while I interact with the people in my life.
You will never have to accept my apology for never seeing things the way you do.

Moving On

Jan 2nd, 2010 3:26:23 pm - Subscribe

I miss the old room of mixed belongings.
I will never forgive us for letting it fall to pieces.
I long for the disaster.

Socks in the Window

Dec 24th, 2009 7:32:32 pm - Subscribe
Mood: powerless

The moon is perfect. If only the wind would stop blowing it away long enough for me to watch it glow.

Silent does not mean silent. No pillows can stifle the clicking noise that gives me too much hope.

Goodbye does not mean goodbye. It only means more fighting. Even when I lie to end it quicker, it is never goodbye.

I'm so afraid of leaving but I'm tired of hurting. Put the phone down. Wait for Christmas.

Window

Nov 17th, 2009 2:51:56 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.

The Meeting

Nov 9th, 2009 7:39:04 am - 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.

Regrets

Nov 3rd, 2009 5:38:48 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.

Girl

Oct 27th, 2009 5:29:03 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.

Digging Up My Old Rejections

Oct 25th, 2009 8:35:59 pm - 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.

The Next American Classic

Oct 16th, 2009 5:48:41 am - Subscribe
Mood: controlled

Could it be possible that I misunderstood the assignment? Or perhaps that I simply could not think of anything creative? It could be that there isn't a creative thought circling in my head and I came to dead end with all my ideas. I might not be as clever as those in my class. Could it be that I hear another drummer?

Would taking one's ideas and changing the words and perceptions to make it my own completely contradict the ideas of the ones I'm immitating? In the spirit of transcendentialism, would it be unwise of me to come up with something completely new?

In a world with a printing press and literacy, it is difficult for one to be truly original. All ideas a based on past experiences. One does not enter the world with new ideas, only curiousity in which to form ideas. As Emerson states (something about infancy and being a man) So could it be that the only original ideas occur at infancy? This is a time before language develops along with the ability to write or record these ideas. An infant can look at something new and come up with all sorts of ideas as to how that object is used but once we reach an age where we know what the object is used for our originality is destroyed and we are left only with the ability to write what has already been written about said object.

I ask the question, how can one be original? There is a reason great authors are considered great. There is a reason we refer to their work as classic. Emerson and Thoreau contradict themselves by instructing people to think for themselves. How can one think for his or herself when one is being instructed to do so?

Honesty Like I'm Leaving

Oct 10th, 2009 7:32:38 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.

Babybook

Sep 24th, 2009 1:57:03 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.

Rock, Paper, Scissors, Lizard, Spock

Sep 4th, 2009 8:52:21 pm - 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.

When I was your age, you were sixteen.

Aug 26th, 2009 10:54:56 am - 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.

Me llamo Chita

Aug 25th, 2009 4:57:11 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.

Status Update

Jul 28th, 2009 2:33:00 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.

UnikoRn

Jul 27th, 2009 3:42:38 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.

Defeated

Jul 26th, 2009 7:29:40 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.

Infertility

Jul 25th, 2009 3:08:20 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.

Stay

Jul 24th, 2009 8:16:59 pm - 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.

Why is Your Stuff Still Here

Jul 19th, 2009 12:34:38 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.

Not a Lot of Girls

Jul 18th, 2009 1:48:23 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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