Lately, I've been thinking constantly about the future I have, and I realize that everything is coming in even more quickly than I thought. It may seem like a forever away now, but time is going to pass in a blink of an eye. Considering I'm the girl that waits for her legal age to be independent, for her promised (and utterly astounding) future, and for her visits to her boyfriend, I can vouch properly when I say that even though waiting takes forever, when you look back at the time spent waiting it passes quicker than anyone realized, including me. For example, three weeks ago I was counting down that final week to until Graham got here for our five-day visit, two weeks ago I was waking up to get ready to pick up Graham at the airport, and then we assumed that because time passed so slowly for us to be together, time would be as slow for when we were together. We were half right: time passed at the same pace, but it all went faster than either of us expected. We started counting down to this past visit at about sixty or so days, and looking back now all I did was blink and he was with me.
I guess you all might wonder where I'm going with this, and when I get there it'll all make sense, to a degree (depending on how well you know me). Graham and I are coming up to two years together, though it feels like yesterday I met him, and they have been two very tough and frustrating years, but I wouldn't trade it in for anything else. As we approach this milestone, so to speak, I'm beginning to get that the next three years are going to go by just as quickly as the past two did. I mean, it feels like yesterday that we were up all night texting about our future and how we wanted to get me pregnant by winter break or spring break in our eighth grade year (yes we were very stupid and unknowing to the world then), and then that way we could get married on the day that marked our one year together; obviously, none of that happened. So last night I was watching Bride Wars for probably the third time on HBO, and something woke me up from the typical thinking of teenagers: I don't have forever to plan the future. By this, you could infer that I was mentioning my academics and how I don't have three years to build them up for college so I need to care now, or that even I have to start looking for colleges now because how else will I know what way to steer myself in the ways of grades? They seem like good answers, but not what I was thinking. I'm referring to wedding plans.
I don't care what you all say about the fact that I'm engaged, and even a few of you have had the audacity to say that being engaged at my age is illegal and I, along with Graham, should be turned in. But regardless, we are engaged, and whenever I get around to writing and posting the Graham posts you'll understand in greater detail, but a snippet is that when you're in a committed, long distance relationship, the heart does grow fonder, and you grow up in the process. I've never felt this close to anyone emotionally and mentally, and I even say Graham's my best friend. With the physical element essentially missing from our relationship, we had the pleasure and privilege of a relationship where we were *gasp* forced to talk to each other about each other, in every aspect of our lives. We learned to care about one another, love them for who they are instead of have lust muddy up our feelings like more than a handful of couples I know at my age. Between the time we met in the summer of 2008 and that winter, there was five months of waiting, and for awhile we didn't know if we'd ever see each other outside of TIP because our parents seemed less than enthused about our relationship. But yes, five months of us just using AIM and texting or calling when he could get a minute card for his phone, because neither of us had free long distance calls. During all this, however, it never occurred to either of us that maybe that physical pull we felt in the summer could have disappeared with the heat, and so a week before the winter visit I basically had a miniature panic attack on seeing Graham again, because I loved him so much that I didn't want my body to reject him. Those worries were thrown out the bus window the second our arms were around each other, and they never came back.
So after that digression, back to this wedding thing. I noticed that our current planned wedding date, 7/14/2013, is barely a month after my eighteenth birthday, and that isn't enough time to plan a whole wedding, let alone finance it. So awhile ago, Graham and I made an agreement that when he turned eighteen the fall before, he would start locating essentials in the area that would provide catering, flowers, photography, and those sort of things while I would, of course, be the one deciding everything else, especially to do with color schemes and designs and such. Well, when I watched Bride Wars last night, I was hit with the understanding that planning a wedding was much more complex that I had thought until that point; I realized I needed some type of third-party planner, because there would be no way I'd be able to balance planning my wedding and IB exams. I found a couple of free online wedding planners, with all sorts of checklists and helpful hints on where to get invites and "Save the Dates" for the best prices. To set up an account, you have to be eighteen, duh, and so the current plan for this is to set it up on Graham's birthday so that at least one of us is legit to start setting things up for our wedding there (yes, we already found a venue, but it was a little by accident). Between now and then, all I can really do is look at different colors for design, look at styles and prices for bridal gowns and bridesmaid dresses, start putting together a rough guest list for my side of the family (which is, again, starting to become much larger than I thought because of the whole Italian thing and "everyone must be there" subconscious obligation), and I hope I can remember that the venue can hold no more than 99 people, so I'm shooting for a grand total of 80 people, 78 invited people.
There is a small part of me that says thinking about all of this now is a little early and maybe I'm overdoing it, but then I think about the people that plan weddings three or four years in advance, regardless of age. Yes, we're young. Yes, we probably are crazy. And perhaps we don't know what we're doing just yet, but then think about how we'll be in a long distance relationship for five years, how we'll know by then (actually we already do know this) that what we have is real and honest and true, and how we've already done anything we can to screw us up. We understand that the younger you are when you marry the higher the chance of divorce, but I imagine this goes for the high school couples that get together senior year, are so obsessed with lust that they mistake it for love (which also happens to adult couples, believe it or not), and then they marry without really knowing anything about the other person, and maybe six months to a year later they divorce, and they can't even drink yet.
For those of you that will think that regardless of what I've said, he and I are too young to be together and only our hormones are attracted to each other, there are studies showing that, yes, the time where a couple is most attracted to each other is in the first year and a half because the hormones of the relationship are fresh. Two things I can say to that: one, how could Graham and I be hormones if we are barely together throughout the year, and two, we're at two years. I think we would've broken up (and stayed that way) by now if we weren't serious, and if we were taken over by those "early relationship" hormones.
Love,
Caitlyn
Saturday, June 26, 2010
Tuesday, June 22, 2010
"How You Love Me Now"
You were talking to her,
But messing with me.
It’s finally clear
You’re blurring lines
Are you disturbed?
Oh, now you care.
Why do you race through my red lights?
Can’t understand?
I’ll slow it down for you
Tell me how can you sleep?
How can you breathe?
Baby tell me how,
How you love me now.
Tell me how can you sleep?
How can you breathe?
I hate when you say
How you love me now.
Save, save it for her,
I’m not gonna hear,
Your reasons and “Please just take me back's”
We never were right,
Don’t waste your breath,
You crashed and you’re on your own tonight.
Can’t understand?
I’ll slow it down for you
Tell me how can you sleep?
How can you breathe?
Baby tell me how,
How you love me now.
Tell me how can you sleep?
How can you breathe?
I hate when you say,
How you love me now.
Lights out,
I found out,
My falling star.
Goodbye,
The sun rise is here,
There’s no more you and I.
Tell me how can you sleep?
How can you breathe?
Baby tell me how,
How you love me now.
Tell me how can you sleep?
How can you breathe?
I hate when you say,
How you love me now.
How you love me now
How you love me now.
Just something I think applies lately.
Love,
Caitlyn
But messing with me.
It’s finally clear
You’re blurring lines
Are you disturbed?
Oh, now you care.
Why do you race through my red lights?
Can’t understand?
I’ll slow it down for you
Tell me how can you sleep?
How can you breathe?
Baby tell me how,
How you love me now.
Tell me how can you sleep?
How can you breathe?
I hate when you say
How you love me now.
Save, save it for her,
I’m not gonna hear,
Your reasons and “Please just take me back's”
We never were right,
Don’t waste your breath,
You crashed and you’re on your own tonight.
Can’t understand?
I’ll slow it down for you
Tell me how can you sleep?
How can you breathe?
Baby tell me how,
How you love me now.
Tell me how can you sleep?
How can you breathe?
I hate when you say,
How you love me now.
Lights out,
I found out,
My falling star.
Goodbye,
The sun rise is here,
There’s no more you and I.
Tell me how can you sleep?
How can you breathe?
Baby tell me how,
How you love me now.
Tell me how can you sleep?
How can you breathe?
I hate when you say,
How you love me now.
How you love me now
How you love me now.
Just something I think applies lately.
Love,
Caitlyn
Thursday, June 17, 2010
Summer.
A week has gone by, and except for Graham visiting and leaving, nothing has exactly happened.
I've been sick since my birthday last Wednesday, and when I went to the doctor yesterday she prescribed antibiotics. Sore throat and headache are gone, so all that's left is congestion, essentially.
Graham's visit was...completely amazing. I however cannot say any of it better than Graham already did over at his blog, so please go check it out. Any questions about it, ask me personally or on Formspring.
Now we count down the days until TIP, which is from when I finish this post is 20 days from now. We're very excited for it, and can't wait to be together again. After that visit, I'll be attending his homecoming dance.
I'll be back to update more later, so I say to check out Graham's blog for our recital updates and stay tuned here for more on my so-exicting life in high school as a current rising sophmore.
Oh, and by the way, as of June 18, 2010, I have my permit.
Love,
Caitlyn
I've been sick since my birthday last Wednesday, and when I went to the doctor yesterday she prescribed antibiotics. Sore throat and headache are gone, so all that's left is congestion, essentially.
Graham's visit was...completely amazing. I however cannot say any of it better than Graham already did over at his blog, so please go check it out. Any questions about it, ask me personally or on Formspring.
Now we count down the days until TIP, which is from when I finish this post is 20 days from now. We're very excited for it, and can't wait to be together again. After that visit, I'll be attending his homecoming dance.
I'll be back to update more later, so I say to check out Graham's blog for our recital updates and stay tuned here for more on my so-exicting life in high school as a current rising sophmore.
Oh, and by the way, as of June 18, 2010, I have my permit.
Love,
Caitlyn
Thursday, June 10, 2010
Scars and Stories
I've been meaning to write about this for awhile, to say the least, and I've been wondering where to begin. So today, while cleaning out my closet of all these bags, I came across some balled up paper stapled together, and I recognize it as my seventh grade handwriting. On it is a song, titled "Red", that I wrote back when I was cutting (which would be what this post is about). Before I go further, here's the song:
Ever since the day we broke up,
I've been thinking this way,
Wondering whether I wanted it to be
My last day.
I know I'd be fucking up my life,
But should it be done with Mom's knife?
Many thoughts have been running through my head,
Like whether or not I should be dead.
"Cut" I've said to myself a thousand times.
So I'm sitting here in my bed,
Watching my right wrist run red.
Whoa-oh-oh
The color red stands for many things,
But for me it's broken hearts and
Broken dreams
(But right now it's the blood staining my sheets)
I know that I'm fucking up my life,
And it's worse I'm using Mom's knife.
Many thoughts are running through my head,
Like whether or not I should be dead.
"Cut" I've said to myself a thousand times.
So now I just sit here in my bed,
Watching my right wrist run red
(Somebody save me...)
You don't know about the pain that
Runs down my cheeks.
"You have no clue about how I feel,"
I scream.
I told you it would come down to this,
And now you better regret all the blood
You've cost me.
Please, I don't wanna do this (to you)
Please, I don't want to lose (you and me)
Oh, please, just save me (from the pain)
Red is...blood
Red is...blood (no wait)
Red is...love
All those thoughts were running through my head,
Like whether or not I should be dead.
"Cut" I had said to myself a thousand times.
Now I'm laying here in your bed,
Thinking 'bout the times my wrist ran red.
(You saved me)
Whoa-oh-oh
Looking back, it's hysterically funny. I was a clingy, emotional, paranoid wreck that couldn't stand up for herself. I let guys walk all over me, I never cried at anything, and I was writing terrible (and badly written) fan fiction about Patrick Stump from Fall Out Boy; all the while I was staying up late at night, often until one in the morning, reading young adult love stories and jotting down creepy love things about how I wished Jimmy and I were (which I recently dug up out of a couple boxes of random papers).
So yes, back to cutting. While I only cut on my thighs (except for once across my wrist from a director of my youth theater yelling at the entire cast of High School Musical for not being ready) I have quite a few scars from what I've done to myself. I remember when my first boyfriend Davis and I broke up, and it tore me apart. Not to mention Between The Tree's song "The Way She Feels" had just made it big in the music industry and TWLOHA (To Write Love On Her Arms) was dotting my wardrobe. I was lost in myself, and I didn't want to let myself feel anything at all, but everything was getting to a point where I had to feel something. And with everything that was in my reach, I turned to cutting. For everything. Bad day with friends or my mom, pulled out my razor. My boyfriend of the time (Jimmy in the beginning) wouldn't call me on the weekend, pulled out the razor. Hell, sometimes I just cut because I felt like it. Cutting took over my life practically, and while Jimmy and somewhat convinced me to stop in November of 2007, we broke up and that caused seven scars to be imprinted on both thighs. The guidance counselor was informed, because I had begun cutting at school too, and called my mother, who became very emotional and upset. I stopped until January of 2008 when I cut once, but my mom caught me and after threatening me with a mental hospital for "suicidal activity" I was scared out of cutting.
I didn't cut again until October of that year, when I opened up to Graham about how I was dating Jimmy when I asked him out at TIP and cutting. It pulled every one of my experiences with cutting to the forefront of my mind, and I started again, which confused and infuriated Graham. He didn't realize what was so addicting about slicing your skin until he tried himself that December, which was another time I had cut. Skip to spring of 2009, and I was cutting heavy again like seventh grade. Graham and I weren't in the best of places, and we were fighting all the time for about two months. Even though the fights were over practically nothing, the aftermath was stressful and I cut to cope with it all. Graham and I established a final promise not to cut, and I didn't attempt again until August of the same year, trying to carve my daughter's name into my thight; no scar resulted that I can easily find. In January of this year, when I told Graham about the December affair with Jimmy, I felt as though he wasn't treating my harshly enough, and in all of my guilt I took it all out on myself quite a few times. And let me tell you, there is nothing like that rush after a long break of not receiving it. Graham did get me to stop, and I believe the last time I cut was in February, when Graham broke up with me for what felt like no apparent reason.
There really is no positive effect to cutting. It hurts everyone around you, not to mention it is slightly painful, and it gives the cutter poor coping skills and false emotions. Cutting took my ability to feel away, because I felt like I couldn't express myself and I had to keep everything locked up inside, and cutting released all that. The psychologist my mom took me to figured out that my "root" was my dad not giving me the attention I needed and instead directing it towards my stepmother and her children. In turn, this caused me to have a dependence on guys for long term, close relationships and I would fall apart whenever they left my life.
As of this moment, I don't really know my point of view on cutting. I have quite a few friends that either have cut or currently still battle it. I know it is an addiction, and I even think of it as luscious, and a beautiful sting. With words like that, I feel like I want to cut again, no matter what anyone says. Honestly, I kind of miss that rush and the secret of hiding it. I guess I won't know what I really want until after recital, considering fresh, crimson cuts and flesh tights and revealing costumes don't mix, and neither does bathing suit season. I don't know. I don't want to hurt people around me, but I can't help craving the razor against my skin.
Nobody worry, please. This does happen often, and not cutting is a daily battle that I've been winning for a few months and I had won for nine months before. I'm sure this is just one of those phases that all us addicts go through. After all, what is the difference between a cutting addiction and one of drugs, sex and porn, or alcohol?
Before I go, sixteenth birthday shoutout to Jimmy. We were the same age for a day and now we resume your oldness. Happy birthday, darlin'.
Love,
Caitlyn
Ever since the day we broke up,
I've been thinking this way,
Wondering whether I wanted it to be
My last day.
I know I'd be fucking up my life,
But should it be done with Mom's knife?
Many thoughts have been running through my head,
Like whether or not I should be dead.
"Cut" I've said to myself a thousand times.
So I'm sitting here in my bed,
Watching my right wrist run red.
Whoa-oh-oh
The color red stands for many things,
But for me it's broken hearts and
Broken dreams
(But right now it's the blood staining my sheets)
I know that I'm fucking up my life,
And it's worse I'm using Mom's knife.
Many thoughts are running through my head,
Like whether or not I should be dead.
"Cut" I've said to myself a thousand times.
So now I just sit here in my bed,
Watching my right wrist run red
(Somebody save me...)
You don't know about the pain that
Runs down my cheeks.
"You have no clue about how I feel,"
I scream.
I told you it would come down to this,
And now you better regret all the blood
You've cost me.
Please, I don't wanna do this (to you)
Please, I don't want to lose (you and me)
Oh, please, just save me (from the pain)
Red is...blood
Red is...blood (no wait)
Red is...love
All those thoughts were running through my head,
Like whether or not I should be dead.
"Cut" I had said to myself a thousand times.
Now I'm laying here in your bed,
Thinking 'bout the times my wrist ran red.
(You saved me)
Whoa-oh-oh
Looking back, it's hysterically funny. I was a clingy, emotional, paranoid wreck that couldn't stand up for herself. I let guys walk all over me, I never cried at anything, and I was writing terrible (and badly written) fan fiction about Patrick Stump from Fall Out Boy; all the while I was staying up late at night, often until one in the morning, reading young adult love stories and jotting down creepy love things about how I wished Jimmy and I were (which I recently dug up out of a couple boxes of random papers).
So yes, back to cutting. While I only cut on my thighs (except for once across my wrist from a director of my youth theater yelling at the entire cast of High School Musical for not being ready) I have quite a few scars from what I've done to myself. I remember when my first boyfriend Davis and I broke up, and it tore me apart. Not to mention Between The Tree's song "The Way She Feels" had just made it big in the music industry and TWLOHA (To Write Love On Her Arms) was dotting my wardrobe. I was lost in myself, and I didn't want to let myself feel anything at all, but everything was getting to a point where I had to feel something. And with everything that was in my reach, I turned to cutting. For everything. Bad day with friends or my mom, pulled out my razor. My boyfriend of the time (Jimmy in the beginning) wouldn't call me on the weekend, pulled out the razor. Hell, sometimes I just cut because I felt like it. Cutting took over my life practically, and while Jimmy and somewhat convinced me to stop in November of 2007, we broke up and that caused seven scars to be imprinted on both thighs. The guidance counselor was informed, because I had begun cutting at school too, and called my mother, who became very emotional and upset. I stopped until January of 2008 when I cut once, but my mom caught me and after threatening me with a mental hospital for "suicidal activity" I was scared out of cutting.
I didn't cut again until October of that year, when I opened up to Graham about how I was dating Jimmy when I asked him out at TIP and cutting. It pulled every one of my experiences with cutting to the forefront of my mind, and I started again, which confused and infuriated Graham. He didn't realize what was so addicting about slicing your skin until he tried himself that December, which was another time I had cut. Skip to spring of 2009, and I was cutting heavy again like seventh grade. Graham and I weren't in the best of places, and we were fighting all the time for about two months. Even though the fights were over practically nothing, the aftermath was stressful and I cut to cope with it all. Graham and I established a final promise not to cut, and I didn't attempt again until August of the same year, trying to carve my daughter's name into my thight; no scar resulted that I can easily find. In January of this year, when I told Graham about the December affair with Jimmy, I felt as though he wasn't treating my harshly enough, and in all of my guilt I took it all out on myself quite a few times. And let me tell you, there is nothing like that rush after a long break of not receiving it. Graham did get me to stop, and I believe the last time I cut was in February, when Graham broke up with me for what felt like no apparent reason.
There really is no positive effect to cutting. It hurts everyone around you, not to mention it is slightly painful, and it gives the cutter poor coping skills and false emotions. Cutting took my ability to feel away, because I felt like I couldn't express myself and I had to keep everything locked up inside, and cutting released all that. The psychologist my mom took me to figured out that my "root" was my dad not giving me the attention I needed and instead directing it towards my stepmother and her children. In turn, this caused me to have a dependence on guys for long term, close relationships and I would fall apart whenever they left my life.
As of this moment, I don't really know my point of view on cutting. I have quite a few friends that either have cut or currently still battle it. I know it is an addiction, and I even think of it as luscious, and a beautiful sting. With words like that, I feel like I want to cut again, no matter what anyone says. Honestly, I kind of miss that rush and the secret of hiding it. I guess I won't know what I really want until after recital, considering fresh, crimson cuts and flesh tights and revealing costumes don't mix, and neither does bathing suit season. I don't know. I don't want to hurt people around me, but I can't help craving the razor against my skin.
Nobody worry, please. This does happen often, and not cutting is a daily battle that I've been winning for a few months and I had won for nine months before. I'm sure this is just one of those phases that all us addicts go through. After all, what is the difference between a cutting addiction and one of drugs, sex and porn, or alcohol?
Before I go, sixteenth birthday shoutout to Jimmy. We were the same age for a day and now we resume your oldness. Happy birthday, darlin'.
Love,
Caitlyn
Wednesday, June 9, 2010
"100 Years"
I'm 15 for a moment
Caught in between 10 and 20
And I'm just dreaming
Counting the ways to where you are
I'm 22 for a moment
She feels better than ever
And we're on fire
Making our way back from Mars
15 there's still time for you
Time to buy and time to lose
15, there's never a wish better than this
When you only got 100 years to live
I'm 33 for a moment
Still the man, but you see I'm a they
A kid on the way
A family on my mind
I'm 45 for a moment
The sea is high
And I'm heading into a crisis
Chasing the years of my life
15 there's still time for you
Time to buy, Time to lose yourself
Within a morning star
15 I'm all right with you
15, there's never a wish better than this
When you only got 100 years to live
Half time goes by
Suddenly you’re wise
Another blink of an eye
67 is gone
The sun is getting high
We're moving on...
I'm 99 for a moment
Dying for just another moment
And I'm just dreaming
Counting the ways to where you are
15 there's still time for you
22 I feel her too
33 you’re on your way
Every day's a new day...
15 there's still time for you
Time to buy and time to choose
Hey 15, there's never a wish better than this
When you only got 100 years to live
Just a song that's been stuck in my head for the past twenty-four hours or so. Happy fifteenth birthday to me, and my body's gift to me is a sore throat that feels like my throat is stabbing itself. Hope today is a good day; three days until Graham, thirty-two until TIP. Last day of school today, and I made peanut-butter, chocolate-chip, and cinnamon-sugar topped cookies.
Love,
Caitlyn
Caught in between 10 and 20
And I'm just dreaming
Counting the ways to where you are
I'm 22 for a moment
She feels better than ever
And we're on fire
Making our way back from Mars
15 there's still time for you
Time to buy and time to lose
15, there's never a wish better than this
When you only got 100 years to live
I'm 33 for a moment
Still the man, but you see I'm a they
A kid on the way
A family on my mind
I'm 45 for a moment
The sea is high
And I'm heading into a crisis
Chasing the years of my life
15 there's still time for you
Time to buy, Time to lose yourself
Within a morning star
15 I'm all right with you
15, there's never a wish better than this
When you only got 100 years to live
Half time goes by
Suddenly you’re wise
Another blink of an eye
67 is gone
The sun is getting high
We're moving on...
I'm 99 for a moment
Dying for just another moment
And I'm just dreaming
Counting the ways to where you are
15 there's still time for you
22 I feel her too
33 you’re on your way
Every day's a new day...
15 there's still time for you
Time to buy and time to choose
Hey 15, there's never a wish better than this
When you only got 100 years to live
Just a song that's been stuck in my head for the past twenty-four hours or so. Happy fifteenth birthday to me, and my body's gift to me is a sore throat that feels like my throat is stabbing itself. Hope today is a good day; three days until Graham, thirty-two until TIP. Last day of school today, and I made peanut-butter, chocolate-chip, and cinnamon-sugar topped cookies.
Love,
Caitlyn
Friday, June 4, 2010
Last Night.
Since our "break up," Graham and I have figured out an unspoken "friends with benefits" deal for now.
Yesterday during French, he was going to strip for the many girls watching my Skype call with Graham, and me. When he decided not to, I honestly wasn't upset, because that's his choice, but it released what I'd been holding back for awhile, since I didn't want to hurt him. I let him have it, so to speak, and it really took a toll on the kindling friendship that we were working on. Later that night, we apologized and were being really...flirty, to say the least, and one thing led to another and I ended up "in bed" with him.
WELL. In the middle of all of this, my phone starts vibrating up a storm, and guess who, finally? Mitchell. He started off by saying how sorry he was for not texting me back, claiming his parents took his phone until Thursday and then at school he got it taken away for a week because that's the school's policy on cell phones. He wanted me to explain all the things that had been going on with me for the past week, give or take a couple days, even though his phone was apparently dying. I, very very confused, said that we could talk when his phone was charged. He, apparently, got his charger from his dad and had the phone plugged, and I gave a brief summary of my ER trip (for stomach pain...don't worry I'm fine and I'm fixing it) and why I'm single. I told him we could talk more the next day, because quite frankly I was tired and wanted to sleep. This was Thursday night, I believe, and I'm writing the rest of this Saturday morning, June fifth. Yeah, no word.
This is getting pretty out of control. If he says he wants me back in his life and doesn't care about what his parents think, then wouldn't we be talking? Just saying. Oh, and I never explained his parents did I? In April, Mitchell read my blog, especially the post about him, and then his dad, apparently, found it and said he was going to sue me if I didn't take the post down. I get that maybe putting his last name was a little much for him or whatever, but no I will not take my posts down, nor will I delete my blog. This is about me, my memories, my life, and I honestly could care less about complaints on my detail or indiscretion. However, I have learned that maybe full names are a bad idea and I have fixed most if not all of that problem.
One last thing before I go. If you have something to say, comment here or talk to my Formspring, which once again is open to anonymous questions.
Seven days until Graham gets here, thirty-six until TIP, and three days left of school.
Love,
Caitlyn
Yesterday during French, he was going to strip for the many girls watching my Skype call with Graham, and me. When he decided not to, I honestly wasn't upset, because that's his choice, but it released what I'd been holding back for awhile, since I didn't want to hurt him. I let him have it, so to speak, and it really took a toll on the kindling friendship that we were working on. Later that night, we apologized and were being really...flirty, to say the least, and one thing led to another and I ended up "in bed" with him.
WELL. In the middle of all of this, my phone starts vibrating up a storm, and guess who, finally? Mitchell. He started off by saying how sorry he was for not texting me back, claiming his parents took his phone until Thursday and then at school he got it taken away for a week because that's the school's policy on cell phones. He wanted me to explain all the things that had been going on with me for the past week, give or take a couple days, even though his phone was apparently dying. I, very very confused, said that we could talk when his phone was charged. He, apparently, got his charger from his dad and had the phone plugged, and I gave a brief summary of my ER trip (for stomach pain...don't worry I'm fine and I'm fixing it) and why I'm single. I told him we could talk more the next day, because quite frankly I was tired and wanted to sleep. This was Thursday night, I believe, and I'm writing the rest of this Saturday morning, June fifth. Yeah, no word.
This is getting pretty out of control. If he says he wants me back in his life and doesn't care about what his parents think, then wouldn't we be talking? Just saying. Oh, and I never explained his parents did I? In April, Mitchell read my blog, especially the post about him, and then his dad, apparently, found it and said he was going to sue me if I didn't take the post down. I get that maybe putting his last name was a little much for him or whatever, but no I will not take my posts down, nor will I delete my blog. This is about me, my memories, my life, and I honestly could care less about complaints on my detail or indiscretion. However, I have learned that maybe full names are a bad idea and I have fixed most if not all of that problem.
One last thing before I go. If you have something to say, comment here or talk to my Formspring, which once again is open to anonymous questions.
Seven days until Graham gets here, thirty-six until TIP, and three days left of school.
Love,
Caitlyn
Wednesday, June 2, 2010
Little Update
I said my next post would be on Graham's and my "Story of Us," but I can't get myself to sit here and remember all of our good times when I barely feel like I'm in love with him.
Last week on Monday, I got a text message he intended for another girl, talking about how on that Wednesday she could come over if his mom wasn't home; what they were going to do was implied. Later that night I got it out of him that he had cheated on me with someone else the previous Friday, making out with her and sucking on her nipples. Her name is Rachel, and she's in his theater class.
After screaming and crying until I couldn't breathe, I managed to fall asleep, but it came to my attention that the next three years without either of us cheating would be impossible. I didn't tell him this, and instead confided in Jimmy all of these problems. He's really the only one I can trust to give me an accurate opinion, one that equally makes sense and can be done. He was the first to suggest leaving Graham and moving on, but regardless of the painful hurt I was feeling I wanted to be able to forgive Graham for what he had done. The rest of the week was spent crying it out and trying to think about what to do with my relationship. My mom recommended letting him see other girls, because it would overall hurt less, and my dad (although not knowing everything...) said that if I'm uncomfortable with whatever then Graham should get tested for STDs. Originally, Graham refused to do anything of the sort, and we fought about it all night; my friends, two-thirds of them, agreed with me, that he should get tested. The following morning, he looked up a free clinic in the area and gave in; he was tested yesterday afternoon.
On this past Monday, I was fluxuating between moods, going from sweet to pissed in about ten minute intervals, and that morning we talked a little more and while we don't want to break up and then have nothing to do with each other, we can't stay together and risk hating each other. While we both know that we're it, we're each other's "One," we're soulmates, this isn't the right time for us to be together, and so we're remaining friends throughout high school, getting back together when we need to start planning the wedding (think what you will but please keep negativity to yourselves). My birthday/recital visit is ten days away, and then afterwards is TIP, but that would be the last times we see each other until his senior prom.
While right now this hurts so much and we can barely think about the future, we know this is the right thing to do for us in the long run. We can give in to our hormones without worrying about cheating, and since we both have silver rings we additionally don't need to worry about the other person going too far with someone else. Who knows, maybe it'll make us miss what we had. To keep the planned visits intact, we aren't telling our parents until after TIP.
The Graham posts are going to take a very long time to come up, and I apologize for that to anyone that wanted to read them. He is just a very, very tender topic right now and I can't get out everything I'm feeling quite yet.
Jimmy and I seem to be getting along well, talking rather frequently, but who knows how long it'll last before he gets tired of me. Better appreciate it while it lasts, right?
A little thing about Mitchell. Back in April I talked to him for a few days before he snapped at me about "bitching" too much and then I didn't hear from him again until he texted me on Tuesday last week; he told me he'd be back in an hour at eight that night, and then I never heard from him. Still haven't heard from him. Too good to be true and I knew it.
All for now; finals are coming up in school, and five and a half days remain. One week until my fifteenth birthday, as well. Excited.
Ten days until Graham gets here, and thirty-nine days until TIP.
Love,
Caitlyn
Last week on Monday, I got a text message he intended for another girl, talking about how on that Wednesday she could come over if his mom wasn't home; what they were going to do was implied. Later that night I got it out of him that he had cheated on me with someone else the previous Friday, making out with her and sucking on her nipples. Her name is Rachel, and she's in his theater class.
After screaming and crying until I couldn't breathe, I managed to fall asleep, but it came to my attention that the next three years without either of us cheating would be impossible. I didn't tell him this, and instead confided in Jimmy all of these problems. He's really the only one I can trust to give me an accurate opinion, one that equally makes sense and can be done. He was the first to suggest leaving Graham and moving on, but regardless of the painful hurt I was feeling I wanted to be able to forgive Graham for what he had done. The rest of the week was spent crying it out and trying to think about what to do with my relationship. My mom recommended letting him see other girls, because it would overall hurt less, and my dad (although not knowing everything...) said that if I'm uncomfortable with whatever then Graham should get tested for STDs. Originally, Graham refused to do anything of the sort, and we fought about it all night; my friends, two-thirds of them, agreed with me, that he should get tested. The following morning, he looked up a free clinic in the area and gave in; he was tested yesterday afternoon.
On this past Monday, I was fluxuating between moods, going from sweet to pissed in about ten minute intervals, and that morning we talked a little more and while we don't want to break up and then have nothing to do with each other, we can't stay together and risk hating each other. While we both know that we're it, we're each other's "One," we're soulmates, this isn't the right time for us to be together, and so we're remaining friends throughout high school, getting back together when we need to start planning the wedding (think what you will but please keep negativity to yourselves). My birthday/recital visit is ten days away, and then afterwards is TIP, but that would be the last times we see each other until his senior prom.
While right now this hurts so much and we can barely think about the future, we know this is the right thing to do for us in the long run. We can give in to our hormones without worrying about cheating, and since we both have silver rings we additionally don't need to worry about the other person going too far with someone else. Who knows, maybe it'll make us miss what we had. To keep the planned visits intact, we aren't telling our parents until after TIP.
The Graham posts are going to take a very long time to come up, and I apologize for that to anyone that wanted to read them. He is just a very, very tender topic right now and I can't get out everything I'm feeling quite yet.
Jimmy and I seem to be getting along well, talking rather frequently, but who knows how long it'll last before he gets tired of me. Better appreciate it while it lasts, right?
A little thing about Mitchell. Back in April I talked to him for a few days before he snapped at me about "bitching" too much and then I didn't hear from him again until he texted me on Tuesday last week; he told me he'd be back in an hour at eight that night, and then I never heard from him. Still haven't heard from him. Too good to be true and I knew it.
All for now; finals are coming up in school, and five and a half days remain. One week until my fifteenth birthday, as well. Excited.
Ten days until Graham gets here, and thirty-nine days until TIP.
Love,
Caitlyn
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