Thirty Gegužės of Twenty Eleven

No. This isn't how it is.

I picture waking up in his arms and smiling at him. Knowing that we "love" each other and that we trust each other. That commitment we've had for eight months and nineteen days. And sure, it seems like nothing, but it's a long time for a kid like me.
And sure, maybe that moment is just a fantasy, but why would I sacrifice the possibility?

It's funny, because when he left, I was thinking harder and longer about what I was feeling. Then I remembered the term, a crush. It's sick, it's wrong, I know. But it went away. It went away as I thought about what I had and what I would be giving up. All the tears that would have been wasted if I had just walked away. This, the comparable Emancipation Proclamation oh my heart, will state that I will not walk away from something so powerful that it hurts.

And then I stop...
Because I don't know what's going to happen. Because who knows if he'll freak out. If maybe he'll read this blog and leave me. Or, he'll pick someone to blame and ban him forever.
Maybe he'll just get mad at me again and tell me I'm worthless and walk away.

I guess I'd expect it

It was funny though. Sitting there debating society's intricacies of someone paying for something else, and I speak up, "The real question is, do you want it to?" It kind of shocked me how, for once, I was straightforward, confident, and ready to face the situation. (It honestly reminded me of the person who taught me to be that way). So, we talked. I spit it out for him. We went out and discussed it more, letting the awkwardness die. We agreed about our separate lives. Was it wrong? No. I did what needed to be done, and I did it like an adult.

"Head underwater, and you tell me to breathe easy for a while. Breathing gets harder, even I know that."

Can't stop listening to "Hallelujah" and "Overkill".

'Hyphens and lies,
almost tears and perfect moments.
Where is this going?
I'm Courage, and I live in the middle of
fucking nowhere.

Safety is love now
and trust is thrown away.
I'm not good enough.
And I never will be.

Goodnight, moon,
maybe in the morning,
we'll speak again.
Until then,
I miss you.'

Twenty-Eight Gegužės of Twenty Eleven

I knew there would be another day where this would come. This trick of heart and mistake of feelings. But now, I know it cannot be for no reason. It wouldn't have waited all this time if there wasn't a motive behind it. Today, I'm going to write to an answer.

Hypothesis One:
If I am afraid of him, and I feel that things will progressively get worse and I will not confront the situation and the issue, then the search will begin.
It makes sense. I'm really, truly afraid of this situation. I've been preparing for it since I was in eighth grade, but you never really suspect it will happen-not to you. (It happens, we hear stories, but not to us-not to me). And I know that I'm not one of the people who likes to confront conflict head-on, even though that is what needs to be done. Ever since I backed down the first time, I knew that I was sweeping this conflict under the rug. Right now, it's freaking me out a little, but it hasn't become escalated enough to be a real "problem." Maybe my real fear is that it will. And then what? I can't stop it unless I deal with it now, but...What if it doesn't get any worse and I'm just assuming?
So, I get worried and run away from my problems. Maybe the connection has been there all along, underlying things.

Hypothesis Two:
If I know that there is an end, and I do not want this end, then I will try to continue the same connection.
This can't be right. It makes sense when it comes to the past, but now it really isn't applicable. Because even if I switched it wouldn't change things because it is I who is walking away from the both of them.

Conflict.
The funny part is that yesterday as we lied together, we were both thinking the same thing, 'What does this mean?' Because we're both taken.


I chose this photo for my debit card:


'Broken heart cries mystery,
only love can truly be.
Relationship or location true-
Is it just an "I miss you"?
Tomorrow's just another day;
we'll come together and see the way.'

Seventeen Gegužės of Twenty Eleven

It's wrong for me to get the computer wet. My dad stresses so much about it. So, it's especially wrong for me to sit in front of the computer and cry.

And go to school and cry.

And come home and cry.

But, I'm okay.

Or, at least, that's what I tell them. Even though they're incompetent boys, I tell them I'm okay. (One of them even said they'd tell him, and I said, "Good luck getting him to care.") Maybe I'll be okay.

But I can't even eat.

How am I supposed to be online when I can't see the screen?

And how another days goes by where the reason I cried just a day before is different?

Now, I'm stupid, incompetent, an immature baby, a twit.

Not a word since; nothing's happened. But it's like a bad habit to log into facebook and see if he broke up with me. (He hasn't yet).

The most frustrating part is that I don't know why I'm so upset. Couples get into fights all the time. They scream, it each other, and throw plates-but they cry tears of fury, not pain.

Not anguish. I cry like I lost a child. What's wrong with me?

Maybe it's that everything reminds me of him. The way I can take compliments, Portal, the computer, anything to do with my friends, games, even my web browser. I come to school and look down at my desk and have to take everything just one breath at a time.

If I don't, who knows if I'll make it.

'in and out,

the breaths I don't want to take

in blue bath water.

Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead

Fate is inescapable,

mysterious.

Forgiveness is not what I plead,

but apology.'

Afterthought(s):

I figured it out:

• This is my sixty-ninth blog. (Thought it would have been a bit cheerier.)

Sixteen Gegužės of Twenty Eleven

Well, it's May; my birthday has passed. It never feels any different.

It's starting to make me sick how much I cry. It happened on the sixth; it happened today; I just come home and cry. Of course, to anyone who just reads my blog, it would be no surprise that I was crying. (I tend to blog before/in tears-or, at least, when I'm feeling passionate).

Anyways, my point is that I'm mad. Mainly, at myself. For making such a big deal out of something they probably don't mean. They don't want to make me cry. I'm sure it was neither of their intentions. I mean, come on, they're boys. They address each other in harsh mannerisms and never dent each others' self-esteem. It's pretty incredible when you think about it. I guess somethings just hit them differently. Like, if you told a girl she was loose, she'd be like, "Uh, whatever. You're a loser." If you told a guy he was small...That's a whole other matter. Just like girls/guys when it comes to the wold 'ugly'. That was all it took to send me spirally into tears, ruin my night, and question any good I had ever seen in myself. It took my boyfriend to pull me out of that one. But guys hate on each other without a second glance.

Genders are just different.

My mood just totally flipped. I was watching this video and thinking about this website and I got to thinking about Common Ground today.

:And then this
I remember why I'm so happy with my life. Because of these guys. They actually care about me.


Why are the tears still here?
Serious guilt trip.

It's always my fault.

'Deny, deny,
water on the lake.
The ripples fall from the sidelines-
Broken. past.
Guilt.'