(Morning of) Twenty-Seven Rugsėjis of Twenty Eleven

I hate the days when you lie in your bed and tears fall into your hair. Or when you cry so hard you fall to your knee and pray for mercy. Or curling into the fetal position and wishing away the world. I hate those sorts of days.

Suddenly, I remember this.

"From the Bottom of My Broken Heart"

Every time he gets like this I either comfort him or can't speak. I respond and he knows I'm upset, but I'm too stubborn to admit it. I love him, I think he's perfect. But GOD DAMN. He makes me cry all the time. And not because I'm weak, but because he tears me down. He makes me feel awful about myself. The worst part is that I can't fight. "You're just upset because you know I'm right." And so I just pretend like nothing makes me mad and drop it. Honestly, he said I "lack the brains for critical thinking." Seriously, call me fat, it upsets me for like two minutes; insult my intelligence and I'll cry for hours. Do you understand how much stress I'm under for college? From knowing my work's not as good as I want it to be, but not having the time to do it? Do you know how little sleep I get every night and how awful life is a cup of freaking coffee makes my day? No, apparently not. "I would put up with all your crazy business..." Wow. Add insult to injury. "Love transcends all kinds of boundaries including you being a rude girl."

'Half-blood tears crawl out,
biting the words, "I love you."
Stinging the cracks in the half-blood heart.
Hair pushes together,
falling, falling, falling
___________ fell out of the world.'

LATER ON: (but still morning)

I need to get home so I can watch the Human Centipede 2 [Full Sequence] trailer. October seventh is going to be the best day of my life. Gotta buy tickets and figure out transportation. I wonder if my mom would let me borrow the car for the weekend...

I read "The Yellow Wallpaper" by Gilman this morning.
(If you want to listen to the story, like I did, here are the links: 1, 2, 3, 4, and 5).

Anyways, the story is kind of unsettling to read, especially when you're all alone in the silence. The author uses incredible diction and tone to convey the narrator's insanity. As a questing psychologist, I loved it. However, the end seems all the more sketchy to me.

She begins by saying that there is a woman in the wallpaper. She thinks that the woman shakes the "bars" of the wallpaper at night and is free during the day, and that she "creeps."

As the story comes to a close, I watched the narrator digress, suddenly biting off bits of the bed and saying that "I wonder if they all come out of that wall-paper as I did?" Quite out of character, but fitting with insanity. (Here I note that the room was quite torn; the bedposts had been clawed and scratched, the floor scraped, and the wallpaper torn). Does this mean that, if I go with the theory that there really was a woman in the wall, that she escaped and the narrator is trapped until the next woman comes?

In the end, it is written that all the wallpaper was torn off and that she couldn't be put back. Originally, I thought of the narrator as being simply psychotic, that there was no woman in the wall. I thought, as I looked back, that the yellow wallpaper was her skin, and a metaphor for her entrapment and desire for freedom. That she was trapped by her own body, her own femininity, and her own disease (whatever that was; I didn't really take the time to find out, maybe later). So, when she says "And I've pulled off most of the paper, so you can't put me back" I thought it to mean that she had literally pulled away her skin. In her mind, it didn't hurt because she was crazy and peeling away the wallpaper, trying to let some woman, shaking the bar free.

Maybe the woman who creeps is really how she pictures herself free-and outside.

I mean, psychotic people peel their skin off, right?

But, let's look at this the other way, I mean, there's a lot of evidence (shallow/obvious evidence, but still evidence). She says at the end ""in spite of you and Jane." However, THERE WAS NEVER A CHARACTER NAMED JANE. There was a John (the narrator's husband) and a Jennie (the narrator's sister-in-law). Who is Jane? Many theorize it as a typo, but think of it this way: JOHN AND JANE DOE. I don't think that a coincidence.

Twenty-Two Rugsėjis of Twenty Eleven

I wonder if I have any right to be hurt...

I knew from the start he wasn't going to be able to make it. I could just tell. Maybe it was the way he kept putting off or didn't talk about, but I knew. That's not what bothers me. I want him to take a break and do what he wants. I just miss him like crazy.

I just feel like it came out of nowhere. All of a sudden, we've got these issues again. What changed? I thought he said we could be together again because he trusted me. Because he believed me when I said I wasn't interested in the guys at college and that I don't want anyone but him. He said that it didn't bother him anymore...

And then this. It blows up in my face before I even know what's happening. I like to take my time and suddenly I'm cheating? He can stroll in whenever he likes, but I'd prefer a notice before. I like to have time to prepare and look beautiful for him. If he doesn't want me to, I guess I don't need to.

'Me maquillo
y me cepillo mi pelo.
Me pongo ropa,
y me pongo mis zapatos.
Mi novio va a llegar.
Estoy bien.'

(Morning Of) Nineteen Rugsėjis of Twenty Eleven

I'm sitting there, holding him in my arms and pondering how he would take off my garter. For some reason, I can picture him pulling it off with his teeth and smiling up and me while I blushed. It's weird because the next instant, he was asking me what it would be like if we actually got married.

I stood, for a split second, completely shocked.

Whether it was Fate, God, or similar personalities, we were both thinking about that commitment. We both wanted the reality of never missing each other for weeks and waking up every morning to smile at them. We wanted to furnish a house and keep kittens and everything involved.

Of course, this is all too serious for someone at my age to be thinking about. But my half birthday is only a few months away, and before we know it, I'll be the age I've been dreaming of. (Only seven months and eleven days until my next birthday. And only 11 days until his.)

I swear it's society. Convincing me that I want to be married and fall in love. But then, it's society that tells me that I shouldn't rush it and that I should take my time and make sure things are alright. But still, I've got this white dresses floating in my head, the priest and the 'I do's,' the beautiful white dress, the cake, and everything...

We even talked about going to Lithuania for our honeymoon. He considered it.If I could die of love, I think I might.

And now, I introduce the way I'm feeling, in pictures:
















'Tip toes and her heels hit the ground,
soft skin touches the church floor
with teeth bared,
he takes and tosses,
another eager from the pack snatches.
She tosses herself and let's go of the life she once knew,
A life they both lived for themselves.'

Sixteen Rugsėjis of Twenty Eleven

This is where I guess I should figure out where to start. I mean, I've got a couple issues pressing down on my mental capacity and I don't know what should come first. I suppose, a follow-up.

I haven't talked to him or seen him. Sometimes I hear his voice or his laugh and wonder how he is, but I deal with it. I heard that it did not matter if I still wanted to be his friend because, apparently, he didn't want to be mine. Hey, I don't blame him. I guess it's heartbreaking in its own way, but now that I know, I feel like I'm going to have some relief and that I can finally just give up. It's not like I was going to try to change anything anyways. I knew that I shouldn't.

Onto a change!

I feel that my relations with men and women are so different. Although I have interest in both, I'm finally realizing why women don't appeal to me anatomically. See, the thing with men is they're fast-paced. They like to be tough and play rough and break the rules. With a man, I'd still love to settle down, but I feel like I wouldn't want to sleep through many nights. However, with women, I like to picture a married life where I hold her hand and snuggle her in the night. I would love to settle in with a woman, not be sexual with her. I don't think I have any sexual attraction to a woman (okay, maybe a little), but I'm more interested in her as a being. I think I'd kiss her and caress her, but really my interest in a woman extends not far beyond just wanting to be married, fall in love, and kiss her.

It explains a lot, though. It's why I hate seeing girls on the internet. I could care less about her being sexy (but she can't be ugly-I want her to take care of herself). There's never been anything special about the nude female body to me (maybe it's because I am a female).

This doesn't mean I am any less attracted to women; it simply expresses my type of attraction.

'The smell of flowers flows through her hair,
her dress pushes against her in the wind.
A smile pushes her lips against her teeth,
and melody sings through her mouth.
Suddenly, she collapses.
The wheat in her hair,
tears fall onto the soft Earth,
and she curls.
Ball.'

Twelve Rugsėjis of Twenty Eleven

I just realized my last post was my hundredth one, and I don't remember what it's about.

I wonder if she ever cried for me. I wonder if there was guilt in her emotions, not just anger. I wonder if she ever missed me...

I wonder if I'll stop crying over him. I wonder why he, out of everyone, has made such an impression on my heart. I wonder why I can't get him out of my head. I want to know why I feel sorrow instead of anger...

I knew that he was stronger. Dreams like a reality. I knew that I could only use gravity and my body weight to hide myself and that I couldn't run forever. I knew that if I tried to hold the door that he would pull it open and see me. Why was I so afraid to see him? I wonder if I thought that I would break. I've had to fight ever want to message him, just to hear from him again. Maybe I knew that if I saw him, I would give in-that in reality I might also break. I want to know why I woke up in tears. I want to know why I want him back in my life. I don't understand.

I remember running into the next room, pressing myself into the wall and wishing that everything would go away. I had to handle it like an adult. I pretended I was invisible. I knew he would catch me. I knew I couldn't run or hide forever. He would catch me.

I don't know what hurts more, the running or who I was running from.

I know what I want, but I know what I can't have. And I know who he is. And it kills me sometimes.

"Wanna sniff my balls?"

'Forgiveness denied,
but heart with open arms.
She looks onto the horizon.
She hates the sea,
the water crashing onto the cliffs,
the sand between her toes,
the smell of the salt water.
She spits off the edge and curses.
But in her heart,
the tiniest flicker of remembrance,
sparks her longing...
Only the ocean can put out the flames.
She's scared of deep water.'

Ten Rugsėjis of Twenty Eleven

I don't remember how it started, but then again you never really do. I remember that he slept over at my house, the real one, not my dorm. I don't remember how I woke in the dream, but I remember being careful about it so that he could rest. I went to go do some work around the house. Eventually, I went back to see him, gave him a morning kiss and I went back to my work. Somehow, his brother was there and by the time I went back a second time to visit, they were talking about my ex that I went to visit. In this dream, I had hung out with my ex once more after he tried to hit on me the last time we hung out. He was upset that I hung out with this guy and took a risk without telling him, understandably. I told him that nothing happened and I wouldn't have let anything happen, so he shouldn't worry. I gave him another kiss, leaving him to chat with his brother, and I went off to do some more work (which I have no idea what it was). When I came back to my room, he was long gone. Apparently he had walked out, without even saying goodbye. Most of the internet doesn't know this, but that's just out-of-the-ordinary. I wanted to cry. If felt so hurt by the fact that he would just walk away after having such a wonderful sleepover. Only a few minutes later, he texted me and asked me to go to IHOP with him and he brother (like we had somehow originally planned).

What a weird dream. Maybe I'm worried that he'll just get up and leave someday. Maybe I think that he's getting worried that I won't be able to handle the boys. I mean, he has every right to feel that way. But it's funny, ever since this summer, I've been getting better at saying no. When my ex (the one that I saw again in the dream), tried to hit on me and tell me he wanted to be with me again, I told him I wasn't interested and that I was actually trying to attach myself to someone else. I said no. But that's not the point. I think my dream was trying to tell me that I'm afraid of losing him and that no matter when he leaves, it's going to break my heart. I don't want to lose him (again/ever).

'Twirling through a wheat plain,
she finds herself alone again.
Instead of calling out for help,
she made a soft yelp.
Suddenly she lay in wheat,
two small snakebites on her feet,
and while she never made it home,
she knew the dangers of her roam.'

Six Rugsėjis of Twenty Eleven

Lithuania, I am sick of your nonsensical accents and months.

It's funny, when people ask me how I am, my answer no longer settles on fine or alright. How many ways are there to say wonderful? Amazing, superb, perfect, scrumptious, awesome, sweet, brilliant, thrilling, exuberant, joyful, incredible, astounding, heart-fluttering, excellent, fabulouuuuuuuuuuussss~, fantastic, groovy, totally rad, magnificent, marvelous, peachy, pleasant, terrific, breathtaking, grand, mind-blowing, alluring, dazzling, and so much more.

I can't figure it out right now. Whether it's hormones, or if I really wish I could spend the rest of my life with this guy. I mean, the value of our relationship has increased significantly over the past few months. ("Don't Know What You've Got (Till It's Gone)") Maybe it's that. Maybe my love for him is blossoming like a flower. Blooming and growing as I crave him more and more. Never in my life have I felt this way. Not even in a childhood crush, have I felt such a desire to be with someone. I want him to cuddle me when I fall asleep, I want us to buy a house and keep cute little kittens in it together, and someday I hope that he'll want to leave one knee up and put on knee down and tell me that he feels the same way.

We like so much, and we have so many awesome times together. There's nothing wrong with feeling the way I do. I'm not saying that I want something major right now, I understand how ridiculous that is. But a girl can always dream that there's light in my future. Who knows?

'Printed black stockings run through the night,
she cries on her white sheets.
He knows her devilish secrets,
her mystic ways.
She clutches the cross at her bedside,
begging for love,
but only receiving forgiveness.'

Two Rugsėjis of Twenty Eleven

Being here is like a new world. Yes, this is my home. But everything is a reflection now. Remember when we set up yard sale signs there? Remember when he got his first kiss there? Remember when we used to walk from every football game and get pizza? Everything's gone.

"Her eyes like windows, trickling pain."

I have had the oddest, most entertaining week ever. He came on Thursday afternoon and we went to lunch. They had his favorite sandwich. Within two days, he ate five (although I suppose that isn't particularly impressive, just surprising.) It was amazing having him around. We watched "Armageddon" and "A Beautiful Mind." We stayed up 'til one, and we laughed, snuggled, and generally enjoyed each other's company. It was amazing. At one point, the suspense was killing me. I rolled over and looked at him (across the room), "Does this mean we're together again?" It did. I AM OFFICIALLY THE HAPPIEST GIRL ON THE PLANET. I could smile for hours. Every shadow of life I saw has disappeared and I am surround by a dazzling light. I have no worries. Life is perfect. No matter what I struggle with, knowing that he loves me and wants to be with me, I have no struggle. I have no pain with him. Suffering is a foreign thing. Coming to him in between classes was amazing. I'd rush up to see him and he'd just hold me, or I'd just hold him. And it was amazing.

Is it weird that I can someday imagine us being together in a home?

So, AWKWARD. I got a little sick. I think it wasn't bad because it's not really something I wanted and I think he knew that. It just made me sad/embarrassed because I was really working hard for something I really wanted and had been looking forward. And I didn't only mess it up for me, I messed it up for him too. He'll deny it, but I had to stop. And that means Apollo I failed. :( Oh well. Maybe next time I'll know. Also, is that a box in the road ahead? I FREAKIN' LOVE THAT.

I'm trying not to think about leaving home again. It'll make me too sad. I know that I have to leave again and I don't want to. I talked to my mom about transferring to the school I hate.

I have been faced with a challenge I don't know if I can meet. How do you describe amazing? Where your heart beats fast just to think about it? Where being with them is as satisfying as the warm sun on your back or a cool drink in the hot sun? Where do you begin to describe something as sweet as candy and as amazing as having unlimited money? It's as pleasant as a bubble bath and as fun as making a bubble beard. I wouldn't know what to say. It's on the tip of my tongue. Everything I want to say about him is trying to spill out and make me writes pages and pages until I write a billion novellas, but it just won't come. I'm so close to feeling the wind whipping through my hair, but I can't make the jump. Something is stopping me. Maybe it's just too much information flowing through my mind at once. I don't know if I'll be able to gather my thoughts before Tuesday.

'Kittens and Korn,
paradoxical statements are simplistic
and love is complicated.
LoveDon't break this ground.
I can see your laughter in the sunshine.'