Nineteen Liepa of Twenty Eleven

I wish I could revert back to my innocence. I'm sure that everyone wishes they could go back sometimes. I know that people miss the easy days of childhood being crayons, juice, recess, and nap time. Last night, I curled up in bed, fearing ghosts and people, and stuck my thumb in my mouth. I don't know why I did it, maybe I was trying to wipe away my fast-approaching adulthood. I think my first reaction was to be surprised how well it still fit. I remember my dentists telling me that my mouth was fitted to my thumb because I had sucked my thumb for so long. (I haven't sucked my thumb in years). Even though I was exhausted, I couldn't get past drifting to sleep with my thumb there. Maybe it's a metaphor for going back; there's no way I can do it. I mean, I can't escape my fate or my regrets by pretending to be someone I once was. In order to sleep, I had to remove my thumb and accept my actions.

I'm having trouble understand myself. Summer has only shown me what kind of girl I always hated, and yet I am her. I'm a lying, cheating, backstabbing, whore. Where did the girl with morals go? (I think I had more self-conservation when I was an atheist). I still can't figure out why, which is probably the most frustrating part. I know what's wrong and right to be doing, but I guess I've never had the strength to say no. And I mean, it makes sense. I've never been able to completely reject boys by straight up saying, "No." I've always been so evasive. Anyways, I'm off topic. I don't know why I did what I did. I used to flirt with guys to get their flattery, but I wasn't flirting here, I was falling. I did everything possible to dodge until I was tired of it. (It's funny, I was pretty insulted by what he said might have happened. I would never have done that.) I don't even like him.

I guess that's the next thing I have to point out is that I don't like anyone but him. I can't think about anyone that I would want to try to keep a relationship with him. I'm moving away for college, but I want to come home for him. I want him to hold my hand and look in my eyes. It's funny. When I drove away from his house, I said, "I love you" and even though he didn't say it back, it was alright. Because I said it in person and I god damn meant it. These last few months have only taught me how valuable he really is to me.

I think I'm going to top off my second love album tonight because I'm feeling feminine.

'Petals dance beneath her eyes,
revealing nineteen souls in question.
Omission is still a sin,
rapture never said.
Don't create my history
without me.'

Eighteen Liepa of Twenty Eleven

It's funny how distance is interpreted. I feel as though a galaxy has separated us because without his words, he could go any distance near or far from me, but I would still feel that gap. Even though I know perfectly well where he is, sleeping in his bed, not more than a few towns over. It's funny how isolated being without him makes me feel. It's actually kind of pathetic. Last night, I sat around and tried to picture what he was doing, when he went to bed, but mainly I pondered why he wasn't responding. It was long before he went anywhere. Is he mad at me? (I always ask this question first) I always have to reason with myself that, no, he isn't mad at me because he would tell me so. But then what? Is he too busy to talk? It's never been that way before. Maybe he's just stressed. There's not really anyway for me to make reason.
Everywhere I know he is, there's no response. "Love is Patience."

I don't know what's going on anymore. I was so excited to have one friend, someone who wasn't interested in me, someone who wanted to talk about girls, politics, and anything other than getting in my pants. I guess I was wrong about having a friend like that. (Here's where the tears come.) I've been so desperate for a superficial companionship, nothing that involved romance. I miss the friends I, so easily, threw away and can never see again. I know now that he was the last one left and that now I have no friends. I guess this is what I get for picking guys.

It came directly out-of-the-blue too. I mean, sure, some things about these plans seem suspicious, but I like to give the benefit of the doubt. As we chatted, I was so elated to have a friend who would gossip with me and we could talk about the social circle that we were once in and what a jerk that other guy was. I remember him saying that he didn't even seem remorseful after everything he messed up. Even though it was my fault too, he knew what he was destroying and he never even cared. Then, it was like they had just switched bodies and he was acting like him. It made me sick. All of a sudden it was like he turned into the immature, hormonal teenager that I had just been so disgusted with. I don't know what to do anymore.

I have six hours and no friends.

'Forced down,
she stays trapped in guilt,
hidden with fear.
Begging for someone to speak.
Light the way.
Buried beneath herself
and the oppressor's weight.'

He actually is mad. :/

Things are being resolved. This quote sucks, "Jesus christ, I apparently wasn't wrong that public opinion of you paints you as a total whore,"

Thirteen Liepa of Twenty Eleven

I don't understand what the feeling is. No one ever tells you that there's a certain experience you'll have and that's how you'll know. I guess lots of things in life will have no definition...and other things are just hard to accept. It's like I knew that Fourth of July was coming, but once it was here, I wondered where June had went.

Life moves forward pretty quickly. Only a month ago, I could leave the house and say I was going out with my boyfriend. What's odd is that the song itself never changed, but that word is like a bad note (probably too flat). I hope that someday I can get every piece of the song in tune. Hard work and time will smooth out the faltered lines.

I want to stay here forever. In this moment, in these times. I think I've grasped a very valuable concept in life within these months with him. The way to be happy. I went through old notebooks where all I did was complain, wish pain would go away, and claim depression. I seemed so weak at that point, unable to find any light in a life I'm sure was brilliant. Now, I can see every shining star in the worst of times. Not everything is perfect, in fact things are pretty fucked, but I can handle it without sitting on my bed and bleeding.
That's what means it to me.

What a cliche angle for cake, right? But I love it. It contrasts the bright outside with a plain, vanilla inside. Ice cream cake or not, it's still vanilla.

Fuck you, world; I like vanilla.

'Simple and quick guitar,
play notes against my heart.
I want to hear you sing against my ear.
Words desperate for love.
Whisper to me our connection,
and I'll cry you our story forever.'

For A Past Love

I recently stumbled upon our old notebook. Where we talking about "failboating," Winter formal, and how much we hated the world. We had all our own jokes, and every memory is like a jewel. It still makes me smile to think that I had someone so sweet that I could call my own.

-wipes tear from cheek and chuckles lightly- Remember when you knocked the table into the pool?

I've never actually stopped to figure out why everything happened so quickly with our relationship fading. I think it was falling apart all that month, even over our year. I knew that no matter what I did, this was the end. It wasn't my intention to fall out of love, and I wish I had never been accused of never loving you at all. I couldn't stop you from leaving, so I had to let go on my own.
It's the only conclusion I could really ever draw.

I'm sorry that you want this goodbye, but I want you to do what is best for you. I love you, but I'm not in love with you anymore.

Life has changed here and for you as well; things can never be the same between us. However, it still makes me sad to see how much I've hurt you. I was hoping that your ability to reach out had shown that you were trying to move forward and be a better person than I ever was.

P.S. I still remember your wish, and you can have it now if you want.

"Dear --------,
It's nice to finally write to you...Yes, we did make it through the first weekend of 2010. And I assure you that we can make it through the next 51. It's nice during the week, being all sweet and lovey-dovey..."

'Forgotten memories,
and secret words.
Aren't you glad I had you date those posts.
I miss you,
and what person you are to me.
I'll sing my melody,
I hope yours is in the same key.'

Seven Liepa of Twenty Eleven

It's never just hanging out with him. There isn't any exact way to describe it, but we never just sit around and hang out. There's always something I learn, or realise when I'm with him. Always something more than just a friend...He can never just be that. He's almost like a teacher, but so much more brilliant.

I think back to that weekend. We were swimming and I missed him so much. I had him in my arms, but everything was gone between us. Like a barrier I couldn't break through. I remember how much I just wanted him to be mine, but how I couldn't have him. (Oh, my infinite mistakes). I would stare into his brown/green eyes, passion in my heart, regret in my glance. I don't understand how it happened; I don't think I started it. All I remember is that, suddenly, we were kissing. Everything I had wanted and it had happened. He touched his lips to mine, and in that moment, I knew that I would sacrifice everything to be his, to earn that trust. I know that he kissed me; of that I am sure. However, I wonder why he chose that moment. He's kissed me after that, but I wonder sometimes if he regrets that. Maybe he didn't mean to, but he doesn't want to stop. Yet, that really doesn't make sense. He cares about me, but it's not like he wouldn't hurt me for himself. He's far too important to put me first. (I'm not trying to make that sound rude, even though it's coming out that way; no, he is brilliant and he should put himself first). The point that I'm trying to make is that I could, literally, cry tears of joy thinking about that kiss.

"You'll wear white, and I'll wear out the words 'you're beautiful' and 'I love you'."

Then, I think about yesterday. In between A New Hope and The Empire Strikes Back, he said the words, "I like you." I remember replying, "I like you too," but my heart was screaming LOVE LOVE LOVE. If I know anything about love, I think I'm in it. I know he is too, even if he won't say it to my face. I remember when out-of-the-blue he texted me and said, "I still love you." I have it saved, and I won't ever delete it. Why would I? I'm still in love with him.

He always says that I'm his, and even though I'm a feminist, I don't mind being property. Facebook can say what it wants and so can he, but everyone who understands thinks it practically a relationship.

Everything about this infuriates me! I want to rip things up, break things down, destroy and ruin. Because with every action I made, that's what I did anyways. I'm so angry! At everything dealing with that. I'm so mad at myself and my stupid choices. GOD DAMMIT, why couldn't I have a brain for just that moment?! Everything about it, him, makes me loathe him. FFFFFFFFFFFFFUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCKKKKKKKKK.

I took this picture two years ago, but it's freaking perfect for right now.


Applied for a job today. Hope all goes well with that!

'Three days
and eight days.
Timing is perfect.
Rolling hills of emotion and work,
forgiveness and laziness.'

Five Liepa of Twenty Eleven

"You can never wear those again," he said sternly as her tears fell next to her computer.
That's when it hit me. I'd broken everything that I'd ever worked for. Everything I ever dreamed like a little girl for. Every hope, every inspiration, every secret desire.
None of that can ever come.

I've been sick for the last few weeks. I stay home, sick with no literal illness, but guilt consumes me in every way possible. I tough it out to be normal, but throwing up a few times a day isn't the definition of healthy. It's not like I'm forcing myself. But I just start feeling ill, and I get this awful sensation in my stomach (like it's saying, "Look what you did, you stupid bitch, you ruined everything; I hate you so much."), and then I toss my -insert meal here-.
I deserve every ounce of sickness.

I knew a boy once who had a race car. One was red and one was blue. He loved his red racecar. He'd had it since he was quite little and it won all his races. His father brought him his blue one about a year before I met him, and he was getting to like it more and more. However, within the time frame that I knew him, his father accidentally put his new "favorite," blue race car out with the toys at a yard sale. He lost that toy. It got bought. I watched him run down the street and chase after the car, screaming and crying, wanting his blue car. Fortunately, the driver saw him running after him and stopped. I watched a small exchange with the boy and another child where he traded his car sold for a quarter for a crisp Lincoln. He came strolling home with dried tears, but a look of satisfaction that he could still have both cars. However, there was something he hadn't grasped yet. As he played more and more with his car, he stopped liking it. In fact, he noticed everything that was wrong with it. I watched him sit on the pavement outside and roll the car, pick it up and look it, and then give a hopeless look and keep playing. He knew that one wheel had a dent and didn't roll right, the inside was dusty, and one of the windows had a large scratch. More and more he took out his red car, loving it with his complete, innocent heart. I heard from another neighbor that he sold his blue car at the next yard sale their family had, graciously selling it to another child. He learned an important lesson. When you have something so good, don't try to replace it when it's still perfect. Don't fix it if it's not broken.

I was pondering why God made humans imperfect today. I don't think it's any of those theories about Him not being perfect or because He wanted humanity to suffer. No, He wanted us to be worthy. He created us with imperfection to see if we deserved to be in Heaven. Would we fight against humanities struggles, with inspiration from the Heavenly Father and Jesus, or would we fall to our temptations and imperfections?

I am human. I make mistakes. The Lord will forgive my sins if I am truly sorry. Unlike Claudius, I am truly sorry. In every way I have hurt those around me. I do not care for my own pain. I would walk through a thousand fires to help those in pain. I would do it for him. For my love.

'Breath of Satan on my skin,
kisses of angels in my hair.
Belittlement of the world
but blessings from Hope brings me alive.
Nothing changes,
only the world of invisiblity.'

Two Liepa of Twenty Eleven

I've been growing this urge to go shopping. I think it's mainly because I've recently come into some money, but I really do want to shop and buy clothes, because I haven't really bought anything in forever. (Okay, a few weeks ago I bought some shirts, a pair of shorts, and some socks, but it isn't filling my shopping desire).

Honestly, it should have. So maybe it's not actually a desire to shop, but maybe a desire to have someone want to go shopping with me. Well, no, that's not it either, I'm sure I could get some people to go. Oh...now I get it.

My desire to go shopping is actually a subliminal desire to have real friends. Recently, I've realised that I don't have friends, and I haven't for a while now. I mean, sure, these people I've gotten to know for the last semester of my life are important to me, and I call them my friends, but they aren't my real friends. I can't talk to them out-of-the-blue or invite them to parties I might host (like I'd ever host a party). They were just people I trusted and wanted to be my friends, but never really got there. Especially now, where all I am is what they hear, I've never been asked about what happened. Now I really know they aren't my friends.

But it's not just that. I haven't had a friend I could go shopping with in months. No, shopping is not aimlessly wandering around the mall saying, "where should we go?" "I don't care." It was one of the few things my sister and I really did together before she left. We would go everywhere. Charlotte Russe, Forever 21, Hot Topic, Pac Sun, everywhere. We tried on clothes, bought things, and shopped until we ran out of money. We pitied each other when things didn't come in our sizes and rejoiced when we found the perfect accessories. I even remember those long moments where I would ponder if I had anything that would match what I was trying to buy. But I don't have that anymore. Guys can say what they want about shopping and that they'd come along, but truthfully, I know they aren't interested in going out like that. They just want to spend time together, and that's not what shopping is about.

Shopping is about cute clothes.

That's why I'm so sad. It's really more like self-hatred, but it all feels the same. I've let go of the friends I could have kept up with, the females, that might have shopped with me...Wait, did I ever have any? The last time I remember shopping with a friend was when I was still friends with whining, complaining, bitch girl (and to tell you the truth, I never liked shopping with her anyways). Before that, it must've been one of my first best friends and before that, this girl who was my friend before I ratted her out for cheating. That was in eighth grade...four years ago. I haven't had real friends to shop with in, at least, six months.

This is why I miss her so much. That girl that moved away to California. We call each other, talk and laugh, like nothing ever changed. (We miss each other a lot more though). I bet you if I found a way to California, I could pick her up and we'd just go shopping. It would just happen, and we'd enjoy it.

I wish I still had friends like that; I guess it's time to start over.

'Broken plastic spoons over chatter,
the red sheets curled around your waist.
That touch of waiting and warm skin,
with pastel stickers from childhood.

You are the friends you keep,
and without them,
you are no one.'