Today, I stayed home and went through my desk, which is coincidentally where I'm sitting typing this all out right now. For years this desk has been my dumping ground of sorts, for anything and everything without a place. Textbooks, other books, random papers, trinkets. You get the idea. Never once in the four years that I've had this desk have I used it for its real purpose: work. Well, writing. So here I am.
Like I said, I cleaned it out. I hadn't really sat down and done so since the day Graham "disappeared" back in the fall of 2010. I opened all the doors and cabinets and drawers in it and pulled everything out, setting it on the floor in front of me. In three hours, I read through journal after journal, paper after paper of things I'd written, most going back to seventh and eighth grade. A couple as far back as sixth. The most recent was from freshman year, my creative writing class. Out of everything I had held onto, everything I'd written from my past that at one time meant a great deal to me, I filled two trashbags to the brim, one being so full that it very nearly fell apart. All that's left is a relatively thin folder of things from my fangirl days, my creative writing class work, the six word memoir contest entries from junior year, a few other pieces, some photos, and my university acceptance letters. Everything else I had no use for anymore. I mean, some of what I threw out I'd already typed up some time ago, so I have it on my laptop. But most of the other parts of it were things I had no reason to hang on to anymore. They were all things from when I was with Graham, starting from my guilt during the first summer of TIP all the way through my suicidal phase during the break-up. And as I was reading through it all, wondering why I still had it, I remembered what I'd been thinking the last time I had done so three years ago: I thought he was coming back. I thought that if I got rid of him from my desk, and thus my life, then he'd never "come home" (I actually wrote that in them; how embarrassing). I thought that if he did take me back, I'd want to have the writing and memories associated with our past together. Well, he's gone. Been gone for almost three years now. We had good and bad times, but it's over. I laughed at a LOT of what I wrote today, more out of embarrassment and shame than humor, but it was laughter nonetheless. Then I threw it in the trashbag. That part of my life was just that: a part. A relatively small part. I stopped letting it dictate things I did a long time ago, and it's time to get rid of it all (sans the rose stained glass piece his mom made because it's just too pretty). I'll track down the box my mom has somewhere of the stuff from us together (what I never got to burning) and get rid of all that, too.
Which in a way brings me to TJ. Like I said before, we're together through the summer, but that's it. No long distance. And that means a closing of that chapter in our lives. Yes, he's my high school sweetheart, so I'm naturally going to keep quite a bit of the things he's given me over the years, but it'll stay here in Florida. When I go to college, it's time to move on. I'm not the girl I was when we met four years ago; I'm not the same girl from when we got together two and half years back. And he's certainly not the same ROTC kid from freshman and sophomore year. We've grown and changed, and now it's off to our separate universities, separate cities. It's over. If we find our way back to each other in the years and years to come, then I'll say it's fate, but I don't know that right now. All I know is that now is not our time.
Segway to Ian. Clearly "now" isn't our time either. Not long distance. We'll see what happens if and when we bump into each other on campus. Maybe we'll start over. Maybe we'll just be friends. Or maybe we won't be anything at all. In any case, anything can happen, but we both have to be open to that, which means putting aside the past. By putting aside the past (unfortunately, the good as well as the bad), only then can we go forward.
What's important here is nothing is set in stone right now. As my mother likes to keep reminding me, I could end up in a halo from a car wreck and be unable to attend Rochester in the fall. Any number of things could happen to compromise the parts of the future that I think are fairly certain. Something that took a ridiculously long time for me to figure out, accept, and put into practice is to always keep an open mind about everything. I can't possibly know all there is about every little thing before I try it, so why judge it? Why live my life in a box of ideas that were parented into me when this is my life now? For the first time, I can make whatever decision I want and not have to worry about repercussions [that involve my parents (I'm fully aware of what's legal and what's not)]. However, that also means that I can't blame my parents for how I think or what I do anymore (like I really could before). Because, as I said, it is my life. I'm fully accountable for what happens in it now. I'm lucky to have the chance at a clean slate; maybe this time I'll scribe something worthwhile.
11 weeks before move-in day, so I'm in this wish-washy period before being an official undergraduate but just after graduating high school. Nothing to do, relatively no commitments. Kinda breaks my heart and decreases my sanity to know this is my first summer in 5 years without any kind of academic program where I get to leave for awhile. So I'm home for 77 more days with only Netflix and online shopping to comfort me. But I am done with high school, and this was only a high school memoir, so that means TTFN: Ta Ta For Now. I'll be taking a break from blogging for the remainder of the summer, so check out my links up top there. Very active on Tumblr and Twitter. But "Story of a Girl" ends here.
It's been real, guys. Over 3,000 views. Heartache, heartbreak, insanity, pain, happiness, growth, strength, failure, and a whole four years (okay really three years worth of posts) of everything in between. I bid thee adieu.
Love always,
Caitlyn
Tuesday, June 11, 2013
Sunday, June 9, 2013
"Young Volcanoes"
When Fall Out Boy came off hiatus, I was in tears of ecstasy. And then they released a few songs, and the last of the original three (first was "Light 'Em Up" and the second was "The Phoenix") was "Young Volcanoes." It's the perfect summer song about being young and free. So with this summer being my last before college and the 18th anniversary of my birth (happy being legal to me today), the lyrics inspired me to write an ekphrastic poem. For you guys to "get" the poem, I'll post the lyrics first, and then the poem.
When Rome's in ruins, we are the lions
Free of the coliseums
In poison places, we are anti-venom
We're the beginning of the end
Tonight the foxes hunt the hounds
It's all over now before it has begun
We've already won
We are wild, we are like young volcanoes
We are wild, Americana, exotica
Do you wanna feel a little beautiful baby?
Yeah!
Come on make it easy, say I never mattered
Run it up the flagpole
We will teach you how to make boys next door
Out of assholes
Tonight the foxes hunt the hounds
It's all over now before it has begun
We've already won
We are wild, we are like young volcanoes
We are wild, Americana, exotica
Do you wanna feel a little beautiful baby?
Yeah!
We are wild, we are like young volcanoes
We are wild, Americana, exotica
Do you wanna feel a little beautiful baby?
Yeah!
And poem...
"Speak
of love,
of heartbreak.
Everlasting
joy.
Endless
pain.
Duality.
We
are free, wild;
lions escaped from the Roman
coliseums.
You
are my end,
it’s all over now,
but only because
we’ve already won.
We
are the prize for the other.
Like
young volcanoes,
erupting too early
with passion,
love.
Make
me feel a little beautiful, baby.
But
you?
You’re
the “boy-next-door”
created from asshole.
This
was over before it
really all began.
And
like young volcanoes,
we are unstable,
our explosive lava hot
with anger and hard feelings.
So
pretend I was nothing,
say I never mattered,
anything to make it easy.
Not that you deserve it.
Americana Exotica.
A species of butterfly,
new to be.
Indescribable.
Just fly.
We
really are wild animals,
doing only what feels
right in the moment;
instincts.
That’s how we survive.
You
said last night
you felt you were going backwards.
You’re right.
This
is all backwards.
Tonight,
the foxes hunt the hounds,
not the other way around.
Guess
normal’s just
not our style.
But
this is just beginning.
Only
the beginning."
Thursday, June 6, 2013
Graduation and Growing Up
Yep. I graduated high school. Couldn't be happier to be done with the place. Granted I still have to go and pick up my final transcripts in a week or so, but at that point I'll be 100% finished with Gulf High.
During last week, and most of this one, I've become more and more obsessed with Dexter, America's favorite serial killer. Figures I'd get into it just as the final season premiers at the end of this month, but it's ust something to keep me occupied while the weather is finicky. Once the sun comes out I'll be outside tanning and reading. Might as well take advantage of Florida while I have the chance.
I would've been blogging more, but my laptop has been on the fritz for awhile, probably broken, and my knowing that once I get the money from Florida PrePaid I'll be buying a Macbook doesn't really motivate me to do anything about it. I'll make this post, clean up what I do and don't need from this computer, and then once I buy the new one I'll have the PeachMac transfer everything over. Quite simple, if you ask me. Definitely worth the $100.
I'll be 18 soon (actually in 2 days and 4 hours), and with "official adulthood" comes perks. Like getting a tattoo without a notary and parental permission. My idea? The new Fall Out Boy "Young Volcanoes" logo, sans the "FOB" in the middle, on my ribs. We are wild, right? I wrote a poem about it awhile back. Not sure if I ever posted it. Might post the poem, along with the lyrics that inspired it, one of these days. If my laptop stops being a bitch.
Some updates. A couple of weeks ago, I went out with TJ and Chels to see Hangover 3. It was always Chelsi's and my thing to go see the movies together, and with this being the final installment, we had to go, and TJ wanted to see it anyway. Following the showing, TJ brought up the idea that we go drinking afterwards, and so Chelsi called her boyfriend (who is over 21) and we all went over to his place to meet up with his friends. We got there around 10 or 11, and before TJ and I left at 3AM, I had one of the best nights of my high school career. Drinking, yes. More importantly, "Ring of Fire," and while I was pretty much winning, everyone else had some degree of nudity, and I commented on one of the girls complaining on how being naked was different for girls. She responded with, "Easy for you to say, you have all your clothes on!" So naturally, with my integrity challenged, I proceeded to get stark naked, earning their respect, and TJ's. If that's any nod towards what college will be like, I can't wait.
Oh yeah, and TJ and I are a couple again. Weird right? I'd done a lot of thinking, and after we had the talk about trying to seriously work on things, I didn't really give him the chance to actually try. I was tired. And that's when Ian came in, combined with my Rochester visit. I didn't see myself with TJ anymore, especially in the future, and I didn't want to string him along, plus staying with him at that point would've hurt Ian too. So I broke up with him. Fast forward 2 months, Ian's gone, and we're hooking up, and TJ can't stop telling me how much he loves me and wants to get back together. So I say, "Let's see where the summer goes." If I'm being completely and totally honest, I know that I don't want to do long distance. Not in high school, not over the summer, and certainly not in college. I can't, and I won't. If it's meant to be with him and I, then it'll happen. We'll keep getting pulled together somehow or other. But as far as right now is concerned, I'm going to enjoy my summer with my high school sweetheart. Do all the things with him that we had planned to do our last summer before going our separate ways, like the beach and hanging out and going to a concert here or there and maybe even seeing him off to Chicago. But it's going to end once I move in. I know that, and I hope I made it clear to him, too. It's not personal, our eventual, final break-up; it just has to happen. At least we'll have one last amazing summer, no strings attached. That's all that matters.
I'm off, I guess. I'm glad to end my non-conventional high school experience a little more conventionally, with sun and friends and a summer romance. The last four years have shaped me in ways I'll never forget, some for the better and others not so much. But I am the way I am. How I deal with it from here is on me now.
During last week, and most of this one, I've become more and more obsessed with Dexter, America's favorite serial killer. Figures I'd get into it just as the final season premiers at the end of this month, but it's ust something to keep me occupied while the weather is finicky. Once the sun comes out I'll be outside tanning and reading. Might as well take advantage of Florida while I have the chance.
I would've been blogging more, but my laptop has been on the fritz for awhile, probably broken, and my knowing that once I get the money from Florida PrePaid I'll be buying a Macbook doesn't really motivate me to do anything about it. I'll make this post, clean up what I do and don't need from this computer, and then once I buy the new one I'll have the PeachMac transfer everything over. Quite simple, if you ask me. Definitely worth the $100.
I'll be 18 soon (actually in 2 days and 4 hours), and with "official adulthood" comes perks. Like getting a tattoo without a notary and parental permission. My idea? The new Fall Out Boy "Young Volcanoes" logo, sans the "FOB" in the middle, on my ribs. We are wild, right? I wrote a poem about it awhile back. Not sure if I ever posted it. Might post the poem, along with the lyrics that inspired it, one of these days. If my laptop stops being a bitch.
Some updates. A couple of weeks ago, I went out with TJ and Chels to see Hangover 3. It was always Chelsi's and my thing to go see the movies together, and with this being the final installment, we had to go, and TJ wanted to see it anyway. Following the showing, TJ brought up the idea that we go drinking afterwards, and so Chelsi called her boyfriend (who is over 21) and we all went over to his place to meet up with his friends. We got there around 10 or 11, and before TJ and I left at 3AM, I had one of the best nights of my high school career. Drinking, yes. More importantly, "Ring of Fire," and while I was pretty much winning, everyone else had some degree of nudity, and I commented on one of the girls complaining on how being naked was different for girls. She responded with, "Easy for you to say, you have all your clothes on!" So naturally, with my integrity challenged, I proceeded to get stark naked, earning their respect, and TJ's. If that's any nod towards what college will be like, I can't wait.
Oh yeah, and TJ and I are a couple again. Weird right? I'd done a lot of thinking, and after we had the talk about trying to seriously work on things, I didn't really give him the chance to actually try. I was tired. And that's when Ian came in, combined with my Rochester visit. I didn't see myself with TJ anymore, especially in the future, and I didn't want to string him along, plus staying with him at that point would've hurt Ian too. So I broke up with him. Fast forward 2 months, Ian's gone, and we're hooking up, and TJ can't stop telling me how much he loves me and wants to get back together. So I say, "Let's see where the summer goes." If I'm being completely and totally honest, I know that I don't want to do long distance. Not in high school, not over the summer, and certainly not in college. I can't, and I won't. If it's meant to be with him and I, then it'll happen. We'll keep getting pulled together somehow or other. But as far as right now is concerned, I'm going to enjoy my summer with my high school sweetheart. Do all the things with him that we had planned to do our last summer before going our separate ways, like the beach and hanging out and going to a concert here or there and maybe even seeing him off to Chicago. But it's going to end once I move in. I know that, and I hope I made it clear to him, too. It's not personal, our eventual, final break-up; it just has to happen. At least we'll have one last amazing summer, no strings attached. That's all that matters.
I'm off, I guess. I'm glad to end my non-conventional high school experience a little more conventionally, with sun and friends and a summer romance. The last four years have shaped me in ways I'll never forget, some for the better and others not so much. But I am the way I am. How I deal with it from here is on me now.
Monday, May 20, 2013
Prom
It was a clusterfuck.
Let's start with Thursday. Distracted myself by going to the beach with TJ and a couple friends for three hours. Didn't reapply sunscreen enough. Thought I was okay enough. I wasn't. Ended up getting majorly sunburned and basically my entire left ear is now brand new skin.
Day-of prom. Tried to get over a sunburn on my knees, back, eye (sun-shiner), ear, face, and chest. Nope. Made dinner. Nails done. Rushed through hair and make up to the point where my hair didn't even get to be pinned completely up (UGH). Hit rush hour traffic getting to Katrina's for food and pictures. The rest of the afternoon followed in the same anxious, annoyed suit. THEN prom itself. Total waste of time and $600. If I'd wanted to feel alone and dejected and pissed off and bored, I would've stayed home. I even went on Tumblr. That's how bad it was. So, we got there at around 8:15, and I was ready to leave by 9. Tried going out and dancing some. Didn't really help anything, nor was it exactly fun when all the music is date-grinding music and I didn't have a date. Ended up waiting outside with everyone's stuff until our limo group assembled around 10, where we actually had to wait until 11 to leave because one girl had to break up with her boyfriend and was waiting for a slow song to do it. After prom, I met my "other date" at his house, parked, and he drove us to the hotel, where we proceeded to not get nearly as drunk as I wanted to be (one drink does not equal the half bottle I was hoping for). But the sex was fucking fantastic, and for an hour, I wasn't sad or alone or dejected; I was in pure fucking nirvana (get it? get it?).
However, like all things, it had to come to an end. And now things are just really weird and I don't understand them because I don't really know where I am right now. It's midnight on a Sunday night/Monday morning, and I have my IB French exam in 8 hours but I don't really care. TJ and I are "exclusive" again sort of. We've decided to "work" on things over the summer, see where it goes, no strings attached. Half of me wants it, because he deserves the chance and I want to see it through, and the other half just wants to be alone whilst having beautiful sex. None of this is fair to him, still. Ian is, unfortunately, part of my thought process. Like how pissed I am that prom sucked. How generally sexually frustrated I am because I can't do with TJ what he and I "talked" about. How I know he probably doesn't even give a shit about what this weekend could've been. THEN I FUCKING MESSAGE HIM TONIGHT RIGHT (breaking the two week rule Meredith set in place...I know I know)? And literally all of his responses are less than three words. Most of them involved the word "eh." Like, okay, as much as I want to talk to you, I know when someone would rather not converse with me, and that's the signal I'm getting from you, so I give up. BUT COME ON!
What the fuck, man. Seriously, what the actual fuck.
I have no words currently besides a conglomeration of being really hungry but wanting nothing, desperately needing to cry while falling asleep, and craving "the D" (yes; yes that just happened).
Yeah...I need to go to bed.
Sorry for the weirdness on this one. My bad.
Good news is my birthday is in 20 days.
Plus Trick and FOB concert in just over two weeks.
Graduation in 12ish days.
Summer is almost here.
Let's start with Thursday. Distracted myself by going to the beach with TJ and a couple friends for three hours. Didn't reapply sunscreen enough. Thought I was okay enough. I wasn't. Ended up getting majorly sunburned and basically my entire left ear is now brand new skin.
Day-of prom. Tried to get over a sunburn on my knees, back, eye (sun-shiner), ear, face, and chest. Nope. Made dinner. Nails done. Rushed through hair and make up to the point where my hair didn't even get to be pinned completely up (UGH). Hit rush hour traffic getting to Katrina's for food and pictures. The rest of the afternoon followed in the same anxious, annoyed suit. THEN prom itself. Total waste of time and $600. If I'd wanted to feel alone and dejected and pissed off and bored, I would've stayed home. I even went on Tumblr. That's how bad it was. So, we got there at around 8:15, and I was ready to leave by 9. Tried going out and dancing some. Didn't really help anything, nor was it exactly fun when all the music is date-grinding music and I didn't have a date. Ended up waiting outside with everyone's stuff until our limo group assembled around 10, where we actually had to wait until 11 to leave because one girl had to break up with her boyfriend and was waiting for a slow song to do it. After prom, I met my "other date" at his house, parked, and he drove us to the hotel, where we proceeded to not get nearly as drunk as I wanted to be (one drink does not equal the half bottle I was hoping for). But the sex was fucking fantastic, and for an hour, I wasn't sad or alone or dejected; I was in pure fucking nirvana (get it? get it?).
However, like all things, it had to come to an end. And now things are just really weird and I don't understand them because I don't really know where I am right now. It's midnight on a Sunday night/Monday morning, and I have my IB French exam in 8 hours but I don't really care. TJ and I are "exclusive" again sort of. We've decided to "work" on things over the summer, see where it goes, no strings attached. Half of me wants it, because he deserves the chance and I want to see it through, and the other half just wants to be alone whilst having beautiful sex. None of this is fair to him, still. Ian is, unfortunately, part of my thought process. Like how pissed I am that prom sucked. How generally sexually frustrated I am because I can't do with TJ what he and I "talked" about. How I know he probably doesn't even give a shit about what this weekend could've been. THEN I FUCKING MESSAGE HIM TONIGHT RIGHT (breaking the two week rule Meredith set in place...I know I know)? And literally all of his responses are less than three words. Most of them involved the word "eh." Like, okay, as much as I want to talk to you, I know when someone would rather not converse with me, and that's the signal I'm getting from you, so I give up. BUT COME ON!
What the fuck, man. Seriously, what the actual fuck.
I have no words currently besides a conglomeration of being really hungry but wanting nothing, desperately needing to cry while falling asleep, and craving "the D" (yes; yes that just happened).
Yeah...I need to go to bed.
Sorry for the weirdness on this one. My bad.
Good news is my birthday is in 20 days.
Plus Trick and FOB concert in just over two weeks.
Graduation in 12ish days.
Summer is almost here.
Wednesday, May 15, 2013
Forgive and Forget
Forgiving doesn't always come easy. Depending on the person and the situation, to forgive can be a simple process, or one that comes with a bit more difficulty. When I forgave Graham after everything, it took a very, very long time, mostly out of my stubbornness and inability to just let things be. It took just as long to forgive Jimmy and for the same reasons. Now, TJ, I've said I "forgive" him many times, like I did with the others, but maybe I actually have. Not because I've worked through how I felt, but simply because I don't care anymore. So with this whole Ian thing, I felt caught between forgiving his absence from prom this coming Friday easily and then not-so easily. Ultimately, I think it's mostly easy to forgive, because he did have some points in not coming, and the reason we couldn't do the distance was quite my fault.
But forgetting. That hasn't been so easy.
In the last week since he said he definitely wasn't coming, I've tried to forget. I've tried to forget how much it hurts not to be able to talk to him. I've tried to forget the guilt and pain in knowing I was the problem and that nothing I could do would make him see that if he gave me the chance, I'm worth it. I can't seem to shake it. I mean, it was only two months of talking. I shouldn't be this affected.
Smoking is supposed to relax you, calm your nerves. Slow your heartrate and steady you. But when I start and nearly finish a pack in one sitting, it still doesn't put off the pounding in my chest. I spent five days in a row out with friends for hours, and three of those nights I spent them in sleepovers. I didn't come home for two days. And then I threw myself into a group of 30+ people of fellow Yellowjackets, and we haven't stopped talking since Saturday. While I find myself "eyeing" one or two of the guys, it doesn't push back how they're not what I want. Then there's the sex. Casual hookups with no pressure and no strings attached. Well, one particular repeated hookup. And I've been really into it, which would make you think it'd help the most since, well, it's been really intense. But despite the physicality, my mind flashes to Ian. I try to push it out; it never works for long. Because as hard as I go, I can't fuck my way into forgetting his smile or his voice or the million amazing things he said to me. I can't forget that he should be here tomorrow, that instead of going to the beach I should be going to the airport to pick him up. I remember 7 weeks ago being so excited, and now it's finally here and it could've been, should've been, but it's not happening.
So I'll spend the next couple of days staving off my nicotine addiction. I'll be at the beach tomorrow. I'll try to..."enjoy" myself. I'll make the food I need to for the group prom efforts. I'll have my nails done Friday, and I'll work on hair and makeup. Then I'll dance, hard, and probably have a pretty decent time. Then after, probably going to get absolutely out of my mind wasted, all in an effort to forget that I'm going to miss him there and all I'll want is to have him by my side. Because maybe I'll actually forget how I feel about him and the situation and just him in general, at least for a little while. Maybe I'll forget how badly I want to see his name pop up on my phone. Maybe I'll forget how all I really want is a chance with him at Rochester. Maybe I'll forget how crazy everyone thinks I am, because like I said, it was only 2 months and I really shouldn't be like this, but goddamn when I fall, I fall hard. And I fell so incredibly hard for him.
Fuck.
But forgetting. That hasn't been so easy.
In the last week since he said he definitely wasn't coming, I've tried to forget. I've tried to forget how much it hurts not to be able to talk to him. I've tried to forget the guilt and pain in knowing I was the problem and that nothing I could do would make him see that if he gave me the chance, I'm worth it. I can't seem to shake it. I mean, it was only two months of talking. I shouldn't be this affected.
Smoking is supposed to relax you, calm your nerves. Slow your heartrate and steady you. But when I start and nearly finish a pack in one sitting, it still doesn't put off the pounding in my chest. I spent five days in a row out with friends for hours, and three of those nights I spent them in sleepovers. I didn't come home for two days. And then I threw myself into a group of 30+ people of fellow Yellowjackets, and we haven't stopped talking since Saturday. While I find myself "eyeing" one or two of the guys, it doesn't push back how they're not what I want. Then there's the sex. Casual hookups with no pressure and no strings attached. Well, one particular repeated hookup. And I've been really into it, which would make you think it'd help the most since, well, it's been really intense. But despite the physicality, my mind flashes to Ian. I try to push it out; it never works for long. Because as hard as I go, I can't fuck my way into forgetting his smile or his voice or the million amazing things he said to me. I can't forget that he should be here tomorrow, that instead of going to the beach I should be going to the airport to pick him up. I remember 7 weeks ago being so excited, and now it's finally here and it could've been, should've been, but it's not happening.
So I'll spend the next couple of days staving off my nicotine addiction. I'll be at the beach tomorrow. I'll try to..."enjoy" myself. I'll make the food I need to for the group prom efforts. I'll have my nails done Friday, and I'll work on hair and makeup. Then I'll dance, hard, and probably have a pretty decent time. Then after, probably going to get absolutely out of my mind wasted, all in an effort to forget that I'm going to miss him there and all I'll want is to have him by my side. Because maybe I'll actually forget how I feel about him and the situation and just him in general, at least for a little while. Maybe I'll forget how badly I want to see his name pop up on my phone. Maybe I'll forget how all I really want is a chance with him at Rochester. Maybe I'll forget how crazy everyone thinks I am, because like I said, it was only 2 months and I really shouldn't be like this, but goddamn when I fall, I fall hard. And I fell so incredibly hard for him.
Fuck.
Friday, May 10, 2013
A Note About Firsts
First cigarette: excitement, anxiety, exhilaration. Then as the smoke blows in and out of you: calm, peace, staticness.
First time having sex [in 6 weeks]: more anxiety, aching (the good kind), compulsion.
First orgasm: holy fuck.
Thursday, May 9, 2013
The Best Part
I think the best part of all this is that I actually let myself fall into it. Which will never happen again. From now on I can't go through it anymore. Hurts too much. My dad cancelled the plane tickets today and I had to send the flight confirmation and rewrite his full name. Stung just to look at. And then I deleted all the voicemails and the texts and the call logs. Took him off my Skype account. My Facebook had already been deactivated. If he really cared like he said he did about me and my life then he can figure out a way to check in on me.
No I take it back. The best part was definitely all the amazing things he said. All the adorable little messages. The spontaneous poetry. Cute selfies I'd get, whether they were of his face or...elsewhere. The best part is reading all of it, hearing him say he loves me and how true it sounded, and knowing that it's no longer like that. Because the best part? The best part is I gave him a lot of chances. I was there. I wasn't going to just stop. But after one time he talks to me about things getting bad, he didn't give me the chance to try and fix it. Which I think is bullshit. If he ever meant it when he said he loved me, we'd be having a second chance at this. Guess there's my answer.
That's life I guess. It's not always fair. We don't always get what we think we deserve. And I don't want the crumbs of his affections. I'd love another chance, just one, but he's apparently too far gone for that to happen. Because I know if I got that chance, I wouldn't fuck it up again. I completely get what I did wrong and none of it would happen a second time around. Oh well. We'll see about a "future" after all this.
Meanwhile I've gotten myself addicted to something I never thought I'd ever try in my life, let alone catch myself wanting. Crazy, right?
Anyway. It's a beautiful day outside. Wish I could've spent it at the beach but I'm distancing myself from TJ. And that's where Chelsi is, with him and a couple other friends, and I'm waiting for her in her driveway. The sky is so incredibly blue. Sun's a bit hot for a sunset. Light breeze helps. As beautiful as it all is though, I feel no attachment to this place I've habitually called "home." Rochester is home. 109 days.
Three weeks until graduation, and then the summer is mine to dive deep into the mountain of books I've collected over the last couple years but haven't had the chance to read due to IB being a dick. Kinda awesome. Guess that's a good thing.
Think I'll catch a premier of Gatsby tonight if she's up for it. I really don't need much sleep for the easiest math questions of my life at 8AM. It's a joke. The rest of the exams are jokes, too. Life right now is just one big, everlasting joke, continuously being made at my expense. Not for long.
Maybe that's actually the best part.
Tuesday, May 7, 2013
"The Distance That Killed Us"
"Taking a breath while believing all is fine,
But this shaking and breaking mistaking words tonight
Like how does the clock turn to take you away
As minutes count hours the miles separate,
This distance that killed us."
Monday, May 6, 2013
Showers.
It's amazing what a steaming hot shower can do for you.
It cleanses you, both physically and mentally, and you can feel the water flowing down your body, taking with it any and all of your problems. At least, for a moment. Like the aching, the brokenness in your chest. The weight of the world. How you haven't eaten today. How your eyes pulse from crying so much for the first time in almost three years. That you keep fucking up over and over. The words he said. How he's not going to try to see you. That, essentially, you're alone. It all disappears while you can't focus on anything but how hot the water that's pounding onto your body is. So hot you think your skin might melt, or you'll pass out, because your legs are tired just like your heart.
And you don't want to die; you don't want to hurt yourself. You just want it all to go away. But, sometimes, before it gets better, the darkness gets bigger. And sometimes, the person you love, the person you'd take a bullet for, is behind the trigger. And maybe they're conflicted, maybe you can see the pain in their eyes, but maybe there's truly nothing there and the "I'm sorry" they murmur as they shoot isn't really sorry at all.
"Fool me once, shame on you." I didn't know any better. I was thirteen, fourteen, and fifteen. So was he. We both hurt each other. I thought the circumstances were unique to our situation, and that's how I was ready to do this again so openly and willingly.
"Fool me twice, shame on me." Now I know. It took an extra time, but I should've been more protective with myself. With my heart. It's broken in now though. It won't be so reckless again.
That's why I love showers. When the water clears your head, you can think openly and freely. You can make decisions and be brutally honest with yourself because hey, it's only you in there. But then you come out and you have to face reality. Maybe I'm ready for it.
It cleanses you, both physically and mentally, and you can feel the water flowing down your body, taking with it any and all of your problems. At least, for a moment. Like the aching, the brokenness in your chest. The weight of the world. How you haven't eaten today. How your eyes pulse from crying so much for the first time in almost three years. That you keep fucking up over and over. The words he said. How he's not going to try to see you. That, essentially, you're alone. It all disappears while you can't focus on anything but how hot the water that's pounding onto your body is. So hot you think your skin might melt, or you'll pass out, because your legs are tired just like your heart.
And you don't want to die; you don't want to hurt yourself. You just want it all to go away. But, sometimes, before it gets better, the darkness gets bigger. And sometimes, the person you love, the person you'd take a bullet for, is behind the trigger. And maybe they're conflicted, maybe you can see the pain in their eyes, but maybe there's truly nothing there and the "I'm sorry" they murmur as they shoot isn't really sorry at all.
"Fool me once, shame on you." I didn't know any better. I was thirteen, fourteen, and fifteen. So was he. We both hurt each other. I thought the circumstances were unique to our situation, and that's how I was ready to do this again so openly and willingly.
"Fool me twice, shame on me." Now I know. It took an extra time, but I should've been more protective with myself. With my heart. It's broken in now though. It won't be so reckless again.
That's why I love showers. When the water clears your head, you can think openly and freely. You can make decisions and be brutally honest with yourself because hey, it's only you in there. But then you come out and you have to face reality. Maybe I'm ready for it.
"August Is Over"
Sometimes, "August" and "summer" are more than just pleasant times of year. They represent the parts of life that are perfect and that feel...good. It's been happening over the last few weeks, and I even said the honeymoon phase was done, but I think officially, Ian's and my August is over.
"Say a prayer,
The summer nights are dead.
The fall is coming.
We were careless hearts
Who got caught up in this
You were shy,
To the night you drove me wild;
And you crashed into me.
And I won't lie,
I wish it lasted a lifetime.
Please stay-ay-ay,
Won't you stay-ay-ay
Tonight?
Breathe in deep
And say goodbye.
The saddest song
I'll ever write
For anyone, anytime.
Breathe in deep
Before I say
'I can feel us slip away.'
You're almost gone.
You're good as gone.
August is over.
No wait,
'Cause August had to end
All our bags are packed.
Just two broken hearts
That got caught up in this.
I deny
That tomorrow you'll be gone
And so far from me.
It's something strange,
Never love the same way.
Please stay-ay-ay,
Won't you stay-ay-ay
Tonight?
Breathe in deep
And say goodbye.
The saddest song
I'll ever write
For anyone, anytime.
Breathe in deep
Before I say
'I can feel us slip away.'
You're almost gone.
You're good as gone.
We can try to drown it out,
But it never stops breathing.
We can take it all in,
But it never slows down.
We've come down from that cloud.
Well say-ay-ay
What you gotta say-ay-ay.
Please say-ay-ay
What you gotta say.
Whoa-a-oh-oh!
Whoa-a-oh-oh!
Breathe in deep
And say goodbye.
The saddest song
I'll ever write
For anyone, anytime.
Breathe in deep
Before I say
'I can feel us slip away.'
You're almost gone.
You're good as gone.
August is over.
We're not the reason.
August is over."
"Say a prayer,
The summer nights are dead.
The fall is coming.
We were careless hearts
Who got caught up in this
You were shy,
To the night you drove me wild;
And you crashed into me.
And I won't lie,
I wish it lasted a lifetime.
Please stay-ay-ay,
Won't you stay-ay-ay
Tonight?
Breathe in deep
And say goodbye.
The saddest song
I'll ever write
For anyone, anytime.
Breathe in deep
Before I say
'I can feel us slip away.'
You're almost gone.
You're good as gone.
August is over.
No wait,
'Cause August had to end
All our bags are packed.
Just two broken hearts
That got caught up in this.
I deny
That tomorrow you'll be gone
And so far from me.
It's something strange,
Never love the same way.
Please stay-ay-ay,
Won't you stay-ay-ay
Tonight?
Breathe in deep
And say goodbye.
The saddest song
I'll ever write
For anyone, anytime.
Breathe in deep
Before I say
'I can feel us slip away.'
You're almost gone.
You're good as gone.
We can try to drown it out,
But it never stops breathing.
We can take it all in,
But it never slows down.
We've come down from that cloud.
Well say-ay-ay
What you gotta say-ay-ay.
Please say-ay-ay
What you gotta say.
Whoa-a-oh-oh!
Whoa-a-oh-oh!
Breathe in deep
And say goodbye.
The saddest song
I'll ever write
For anyone, anytime.
Breathe in deep
Before I say
'I can feel us slip away.'
You're almost gone.
You're good as gone.
August is over.
We're not the reason.
August is over."
Fuck.
It's really ironic how I'm pretty much ending high school how it began. Eager for the next four years. Excited to meet new people. Hopelessly in love with someone far away.
Fuck high school. Fuck being seventeen. Fuck everything.
My eyes hurt. Everything hurts.
Note to self: stop letting yourself cry a lot at night. It doesn't help anything. Nothing is going to get better so just get used to it. Plus your eyes get really puffy in the morning.
Wow that's short and really bitter.
Sorry.
Fuck high school. Fuck being seventeen. Fuck everything.
My eyes hurt. Everything hurts.
Note to self: stop letting yourself cry a lot at night. It doesn't help anything. Nothing is going to get better so just get used to it. Plus your eyes get really puffy in the morning.
Wow that's short and really bitter.
Sorry.
A Rant From Tumblr
Why do you have to be emotionally exhausted? Why can’t you feel
like I’m letting myself feel? Because I have just as many emotional
walls built up as you, but I’m allowing them to fall for you. I fucking
love you, damn it. I would do anything for you. And I want you so
fucking much, all the fucking time.
I want you to stop fucking studying for calculus. I want you to look up from that goddamn book and think, “Shit, I just fucked up” and call me and apologize for thinking that we wouldn’t be okay if we both tried. I know we will.
Let me in. Just let me in. That’s all I want. I’m not going to hurt you if you do. You don’t have to worry about that. I trust you with my heart, now just trust me with yours. You won’t regret it. What you will regret is not letting me into your feelings, causing me to believe I’m not enough for you or worth the effort and ultimately leave.
Stupid motherfucking calculus.
I want you to stop fucking studying for calculus. I want you to look up from that goddamn book and think, “Shit, I just fucked up” and call me and apologize for thinking that we wouldn’t be okay if we both tried. I know we will.
Let me in. Just let me in. That’s all I want. I’m not going to hurt you if you do. You don’t have to worry about that. I trust you with my heart, now just trust me with yours. You won’t regret it. What you will regret is not letting me into your feelings, causing me to believe I’m not enough for you or worth the effort and ultimately leave.
Stupid motherfucking calculus.
Sunday, May 5, 2013
I had a feeling I was being too much for you. Now I know for sure. I warned you about me getting like this. Clingy, desperate, emotional. I told you long distance wasn't going to be easy, I told you things were going to be different from a normal relationship. You're just not ready.
To be clear, I never asked that you drop everything in your life to talk to me, nor do I want you to. But I also can't stand you doing a million things and not hearing from you pretty much all day. I don't think it's healthy to make each other our absolute number one priority, as you said, but that doesn't mean that other things always come before us. I don't want to feel like I can't come to you because you're doing something else. And I understand that there are things that are important to you that you need to do, and I respect that. Sometimes, I just wish you'd sacrifice something, anything, for me. Just once.
This was what I wanted to avoid. This is why I kept asking if you were sure that being with me was what you wanted. You're still relearning being a boyfriend, and maybe having us long distance was too much too soon for you. Guess that's why you need your time today. Which I'm not against. I completely understand, and whatever you decide, please know that I'll support you.
But I do love you. I know I didn't say that today when we were on the phone, but I have a problem saying "I love you" when I'm upset. That's something I have to fix, but please just know that I do with all of my heart. And I want to do this with you. I want to be with you. I want to work this out because if we can do this, we'll get through anything.
I think that's what scares me more than anything. Because, what if we can't do this? If we can't, then what else is too much for us? And then what?
Maybe we'll be okay. Maybe we'll get through the next few months. Or maybe we won't. Maybe we'll still do prom and feel renewed or whatever and that'll give us what we need to work this out. Or maybe it won't. Maybe we'll have the time of our lives together at Rochester. Or maybe we just won't make it.
I don't know what's worse: feeling like I'm losing you, or feeling like you're already gone. Because over the last 24 hours, I can't tell which is closer to the truth.
To be clear, I never asked that you drop everything in your life to talk to me, nor do I want you to. But I also can't stand you doing a million things and not hearing from you pretty much all day. I don't think it's healthy to make each other our absolute number one priority, as you said, but that doesn't mean that other things always come before us. I don't want to feel like I can't come to you because you're doing something else. And I understand that there are things that are important to you that you need to do, and I respect that. Sometimes, I just wish you'd sacrifice something, anything, for me. Just once.
This was what I wanted to avoid. This is why I kept asking if you were sure that being with me was what you wanted. You're still relearning being a boyfriend, and maybe having us long distance was too much too soon for you. Guess that's why you need your time today. Which I'm not against. I completely understand, and whatever you decide, please know that I'll support you.
But I do love you. I know I didn't say that today when we were on the phone, but I have a problem saying "I love you" when I'm upset. That's something I have to fix, but please just know that I do with all of my heart. And I want to do this with you. I want to be with you. I want to work this out because if we can do this, we'll get through anything.
I think that's what scares me more than anything. Because, what if we can't do this? If we can't, then what else is too much for us? And then what?
Maybe we'll be okay. Maybe we'll get through the next few months. Or maybe we won't. Maybe we'll still do prom and feel renewed or whatever and that'll give us what we need to work this out. Or maybe it won't. Maybe we'll have the time of our lives together at Rochester. Or maybe we just won't make it.
I don't know what's worse: feeling like I'm losing you, or feeling like you're already gone. Because over the last 24 hours, I can't tell which is closer to the truth.
Saturday, May 4, 2013
What it means when you love somebody.
When people ask about what love is and what it means when they're in love, often times they're told about what's written in the Bible. Something along the lines of "love is patient; love is kind. Love is not selfish or jealous." Granted, I know there's more to it, and I've never actually read this part in the Bible, but that's gathered from what I've heard and have been told myself. This is considering the fact that the verse in question is also one of the most over-read verses at weddings.
If you really think about it though, it's true. Because when you love someone, you want what's best for them. When it's real, love is patient and can outlast all things. When it's real, love is, in fact, kind and a soft part of life that's safe. Real love isn't supposed to be selfish, where you want out of being in love only your wants and not that of the other person. And real love isn't supposed to feel jealousy, because when you're in love, you're supposed to know it's real and true and that person isn't going to go anywhere. Sounds pretty straight forward, right?
Well if it didn't make you question every single time you ever said "I love you" to someone, then it did its job. Because what all that shit doesn't say is that for love to have patience, kindness, acceptance, and selflessness, it takes an incredible amount of work. We're told to expect love to come easy when it's real, but that's an absolute lie. Nothing worth its salt comes easy.
I forgot how much I hate long distance relationships. Then again, how was I supposed to remember the dynamics of one when I've basically convinced myself that in my last long distance relationship, I was the cause of all the problems and if I hadn't done what I did to fuck it all up, we would've gone completely differently? So, naturally, the rest of that has been entirely romanticized, and may have fueled my jumping into another one with Ian a little too much. Because despite only having slightly under four months until we're together at Rochester, and despite only needing to get through the next twelve days until he gets here, I'm having a very hard time keeping it together.
Like I said, when love is real, you have to work at it. Being patient is coming much easier than I could have thought, considering that's been a problem I've had in relationships in general that I had to fix anyways. Don't really know how I'm doing it, but that's progress, right? Being kind; that's been a little easier than expected, too. My "patterns" I guess you could call them include a wide range of flung insults and nasty digs at the boy I claimed to love, whichever at the time, whenever things got a little tough. Combined with a bit of a temper as far as words are concerned, being kind continuously has taken some work, but like I said, not nearly as much as I thought it would. The jealousy hasn't been so easy but also something that's just come naturally, I guess. The selfishness, though. That one's a bitch.
It's tough, you know? Because when we're both out doing things, whatever they may be (work, school, friends, alone time), missing him isn't so hard. It's bearable, because I'm not thinking about it so much. When we're both doing other things, it's like a normal relationship where we're just simply not together at the moment. But then there's when I come home, and it hits that I don't get to see him at all or that I haven't Skyped him yet today or really talked much at all, it's like being punched in the chest. It hurts so fucking bad I can't breathe. But I can't say anything, because either he's still gone or he just got home and it's "hey baby I'm home but I have to go do -insert something else that's going to take way too damn long for you here-" and if I do say something, then that makes me the worst girlfriend ever. It's clingy and desperate. And I hate the calls in between doing things that only last ten minutes, because there's always an awkward silence at the end, and all I want is for him to stay on the phone because I'm perfectly content with just knowing he's there, but I let him go because I can't forget the one time he told me about how he and his ex would stay on the phone like that and he hated it because of how it made him feel obligated. And I don't tell him that I want to Skype so much because it makes me feel like we're making up for the time that we don't get to talk (let alone see each other) all day. Because if I did tell him, then, again, it'll be clingy and weird; I also don't say anything because part of me wants him to figure it out for himself, or at least to feel the same way. But he doesn't, and I know that. So, I have to not be selfish and let him do his own thing, even if that means having him go play a game on his new XBOX and me sit here blogging about it and falling apart because mood swings and missing him so much it takes all the energy I have left not to cry. That's what it means when you love somebody.
In other news. Fucking perfect IB English prompt for paper 2, and I'm officially done with English for the rest of my academic career (besides the writing portions of my classes but hey, writing is a necessary skill). And Ian said he loves the Rochester-themed blanket I made him for his birthday, which is nice. We just came off a bad week last week, and this one's been pretty good for the most part. Whew.
Very not-excited for three different online biology tests over the weekend and the intensive studying that will entail, but at least that means I'll be distracted.
If you really think about it though, it's true. Because when you love someone, you want what's best for them. When it's real, love is patient and can outlast all things. When it's real, love is, in fact, kind and a soft part of life that's safe. Real love isn't supposed to be selfish, where you want out of being in love only your wants and not that of the other person. And real love isn't supposed to feel jealousy, because when you're in love, you're supposed to know it's real and true and that person isn't going to go anywhere. Sounds pretty straight forward, right?
Well if it didn't make you question every single time you ever said "I love you" to someone, then it did its job. Because what all that shit doesn't say is that for love to have patience, kindness, acceptance, and selflessness, it takes an incredible amount of work. We're told to expect love to come easy when it's real, but that's an absolute lie. Nothing worth its salt comes easy.
I forgot how much I hate long distance relationships. Then again, how was I supposed to remember the dynamics of one when I've basically convinced myself that in my last long distance relationship, I was the cause of all the problems and if I hadn't done what I did to fuck it all up, we would've gone completely differently? So, naturally, the rest of that has been entirely romanticized, and may have fueled my jumping into another one with Ian a little too much. Because despite only having slightly under four months until we're together at Rochester, and despite only needing to get through the next twelve days until he gets here, I'm having a very hard time keeping it together.
Like I said, when love is real, you have to work at it. Being patient is coming much easier than I could have thought, considering that's been a problem I've had in relationships in general that I had to fix anyways. Don't really know how I'm doing it, but that's progress, right? Being kind; that's been a little easier than expected, too. My "patterns" I guess you could call them include a wide range of flung insults and nasty digs at the boy I claimed to love, whichever at the time, whenever things got a little tough. Combined with a bit of a temper as far as words are concerned, being kind continuously has taken some work, but like I said, not nearly as much as I thought it would. The jealousy hasn't been so easy but also something that's just come naturally, I guess. The selfishness, though. That one's a bitch.
It's tough, you know? Because when we're both out doing things, whatever they may be (work, school, friends, alone time), missing him isn't so hard. It's bearable, because I'm not thinking about it so much. When we're both doing other things, it's like a normal relationship where we're just simply not together at the moment. But then there's when I come home, and it hits that I don't get to see him at all or that I haven't Skyped him yet today or really talked much at all, it's like being punched in the chest. It hurts so fucking bad I can't breathe. But I can't say anything, because either he's still gone or he just got home and it's "hey baby I'm home but I have to go do -insert something else that's going to take way too damn long for you here-" and if I do say something, then that makes me the worst girlfriend ever. It's clingy and desperate. And I hate the calls in between doing things that only last ten minutes, because there's always an awkward silence at the end, and all I want is for him to stay on the phone because I'm perfectly content with just knowing he's there, but I let him go because I can't forget the one time he told me about how he and his ex would stay on the phone like that and he hated it because of how it made him feel obligated. And I don't tell him that I want to Skype so much because it makes me feel like we're making up for the time that we don't get to talk (let alone see each other) all day. Because if I did tell him, then, again, it'll be clingy and weird; I also don't say anything because part of me wants him to figure it out for himself, or at least to feel the same way. But he doesn't, and I know that. So, I have to not be selfish and let him do his own thing, even if that means having him go play a game on his new XBOX and me sit here blogging about it and falling apart because mood swings and missing him so much it takes all the energy I have left not to cry. That's what it means when you love somebody.
In other news. Fucking perfect IB English prompt for paper 2, and I'm officially done with English for the rest of my academic career (besides the writing portions of my classes but hey, writing is a necessary skill). And Ian said he loves the Rochester-themed blanket I made him for his birthday, which is nice. We just came off a bad week last week, and this one's been pretty good for the most part. Whew.
Very not-excited for three different online biology tests over the weekend and the intensive studying that will entail, but at least that means I'll be distracted.
Thursday, April 25, 2013
Final Four
Only four weeks remaining in my senior year. Of actual work, anyway.
Four more normal days I have to wake up and go to every class. It's all really review at this point, though (sans biology). Then one week from now, I'll have finished my Paper 1 for English, the beginning of the end of my IB exams. I'm just ready for this all to be over. Since August I've waited.
The second I came home from my month at Rochester and stepped off the plane, I was fully prepared to turn around and go right back to where I came from. But, like I said, four more weeks, with quite a bit of things in between.
One week: finish review, start English, and Ian turns 18 (and he gets his birthday surprise).
Two weeks: English exams over, couple days for extra review [at home], then History and Math Studies papers to be completed.
Three weeks: all IB exams completed except for French. And, then, IAN WILL BE HERE FOR PROM (I'm not doing so well at containing my excitement am I?)
Four weeks: IB and AP French exams will be done, and I'll have officially checked out and received my cap and gown.
After that, one or two required graduation practices, and May 31st it's really truly all over. Done. Finished. And I can get on with my life.
But life is never easy. As nearly-perfect as things have been with Ian, the distance gets to us. And combined with other stresses and pressures, we're far from a fairytale. Soon enough, though, is prom, and then not too long after that is move-in for Rochester. 21 days, and then another 102.
Of course, the currently 123 days until we get into Rochester for the next 4-5/6 years is about more than seeing Ian. I need out of here. Yes, the clear skies last few days have been beautiful. Yes, the heat hasn't been too awful. But it'll only get worse over the summer, not to mention every other part of "home" is hell. And I can't wait to start my classes where I actually get excited about learning again.
Don't really know when I'll be switching blogs officially yet. Probably somewhere around my 18th birthday. The link's up at the top with the Twitter and Tumblr and such. But, yeah.
I've never been good with goodbyes.
Four more normal days I have to wake up and go to every class. It's all really review at this point, though (sans biology). Then one week from now, I'll have finished my Paper 1 for English, the beginning of the end of my IB exams. I'm just ready for this all to be over. Since August I've waited.
The second I came home from my month at Rochester and stepped off the plane, I was fully prepared to turn around and go right back to where I came from. But, like I said, four more weeks, with quite a bit of things in between.
One week: finish review, start English, and Ian turns 18 (and he gets his birthday surprise).
Two weeks: English exams over, couple days for extra review [at home], then History and Math Studies papers to be completed.
Three weeks: all IB exams completed except for French. And, then, IAN WILL BE HERE FOR PROM (I'm not doing so well at containing my excitement am I?)
Four weeks: IB and AP French exams will be done, and I'll have officially checked out and received my cap and gown.
After that, one or two required graduation practices, and May 31st it's really truly all over. Done. Finished. And I can get on with my life.
But life is never easy. As nearly-perfect as things have been with Ian, the distance gets to us. And combined with other stresses and pressures, we're far from a fairytale. Soon enough, though, is prom, and then not too long after that is move-in for Rochester. 21 days, and then another 102.
Of course, the currently 123 days until we get into Rochester for the next 4-5/6 years is about more than seeing Ian. I need out of here. Yes, the clear skies last few days have been beautiful. Yes, the heat hasn't been too awful. But it'll only get worse over the summer, not to mention every other part of "home" is hell. And I can't wait to start my classes where I actually get excited about learning again.
Don't really know when I'll be switching blogs officially yet. Probably somewhere around my 18th birthday. The link's up at the top with the Twitter and Tumblr and such. But, yeah.
I've never been good with goodbyes.
Sunday, April 7, 2013
Random Poetry and Other
Just a couple things I wrote a little while ago. When the moment strikes, you just go with it, you know?
Before we get to those though, some updates. One, a week without cutting has gone down the drain. And the second update is why. Ian may very possibly not be coming to prom. Last I heard, his mom isn't very receptive to the idea, and she won't let him go. It doesn't make any sense to me. I mean, we've decided that if prom doesn't happen, then he'll come down for my birthday, which has its own pros (like he'd be able to come for longer, more things to do, etc.), but it's not the same. I'll have other birthdays, but not another senior prom.
I know this distance is impermanent, but that doesn't mean I have to like it. And last night when he told me about what his mom said, it was hours of disagreement and pain. Longing. Sorrow. I ended up saying things I wish I hadn't. I can't speak for him, but it felt like we were going to be ending things before they even really began. That terrified me. I love him so incredibly much, and I know we're going to be okay once we get to Rochester in the fall (if I'm being really honest with myself we're going to be doing much, much better than "okay"), but that doesn't change where we are now: 1,200 miles apart. It's a different timezone (by an hour, but it's becoming increasingly agitating). And when seeing each other in the next five months before move-in day slowly starts being less and less of an option, it hurts. A lot; more than a lot, truthfully. He was supposed to ask her tonight, but she has rehearsal for a show, so soon, considering time is of the essence in regards to tickets and the limo thing.
Then, combined with this prom thing is a concern I'd brought up about "being official" on Facebook, which in retrospect was stupid because I don't even know what we are, so how is being "In a Relationship with Ian..." going to help that? Since that night, I've come to the conclusion that we can't define what we are, but it doesn't matter. What we both know is that we love each other, miss each other something terrible, and recognize that the time at Rochester could lead to something neither of us understand quite yet. But "we" could be something incredibly special. We've proven that by the simple action of calling him my boyfriend not even covering what we feel. I have started saying "yeah, we're together" when asked, though, because that's as close as I can get to accurate.
Maybe we're moving a bit fast, not only because I recently came out of a relationship and he's only just fully moved on from his ex, but we've only known each other for a little over a month. Maybe we're crazy. However, it's impossible to deny that whatever this is, is radically different than anything we've ever experienced, and we have time to sort everything out. So much time. He's so different and amazing and everything to me, and I want to make sure we do this right.
So, without further ado, here are those poems.
I know this distance is impermanent, but that doesn't mean I have to like it. And last night when he told me about what his mom said, it was hours of disagreement and pain. Longing. Sorrow. I ended up saying things I wish I hadn't. I can't speak for him, but it felt like we were going to be ending things before they even really began. That terrified me. I love him so incredibly much, and I know we're going to be okay once we get to Rochester in the fall (if I'm being really honest with myself we're going to be doing much, much better than "okay"), but that doesn't change where we are now: 1,200 miles apart. It's a different timezone (by an hour, but it's becoming increasingly agitating). And when seeing each other in the next five months before move-in day slowly starts being less and less of an option, it hurts. A lot; more than a lot, truthfully. He was supposed to ask her tonight, but she has rehearsal for a show, so soon, considering time is of the essence in regards to tickets and the limo thing.
Then, combined with this prom thing is a concern I'd brought up about "being official" on Facebook, which in retrospect was stupid because I don't even know what we are, so how is being "In a Relationship with Ian..." going to help that? Since that night, I've come to the conclusion that we can't define what we are, but it doesn't matter. What we both know is that we love each other, miss each other something terrible, and recognize that the time at Rochester could lead to something neither of us understand quite yet. But "we" could be something incredibly special. We've proven that by the simple action of calling him my boyfriend not even covering what we feel. I have started saying "yeah, we're together" when asked, though, because that's as close as I can get to accurate.
Maybe we're moving a bit fast, not only because I recently came out of a relationship and he's only just fully moved on from his ex, but we've only known each other for a little over a month. Maybe we're crazy. However, it's impossible to deny that whatever this is, is radically different than anything we've ever experienced, and we have time to sort everything out. So much time. He's so different and amazing and everything to me, and I want to make sure we do this right.
So, without further ado, here are those poems.
Thoughts
Falling tears.
Deafening sobs.
A broken heart split so deep,
the
Grand Canyon becomes a
mere
dent in the earth.
Of course it’s all covered up.
Make-up.
Straightened
hair.
“Beautiful”
smile.
---“Pull your shit together!”
And who could see behind
the
mask of my façade
unless
I let him?
You
know, The One?
Yet I expected people to notice.
I say I’m better.
I help people like I used to be
every
day,
---And
mostly,
I’m
okay.
Then there are times I
actually
need someone,
and
I see there’s no
place
to go.
Nowhere
to feel safe.
No
one’s there.
“Alone.”
Someone, anyone, see.
See me
before
there’s nothing left
to
see---
“Except
you forgot your body.”
Burn it.
Incinerate it into ashes.
Let it be the end.
Bring on the end.
I Love You: 3/6
No chance I’m saying it first.
Especially not right now.
It’ll be tainted.
But that doesn’t change what
I
know.
I know it’s you who unfroze
the
ink in this pen and
the
blood in my veins.
I know it’s you who
released
the music into my heart.
I know it’s you. All you.
Yes
I like you,
but
I can’t love you yet.
Or at least, I won’t admit it.
But I’m sure you know by now.
I’m not doing a good job of
hiding it.
Maybe I don’t want to;
maybe
I want to scream
“I
love you” from the
top
of my lungs,
and
there’s just someone
I
don’t want to hear me.
You were right.
I don’t need you;
I’d
be okay without you.
But I’m tired of just being okay.
I want to be
amazing.
I want to be
happy.
I want to be
loved,
in
all ways possible
to
be loved.
I want you.
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