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.
Thursday, April 25, 2013
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.
Monday, April 1, 2013
Fading.
No, this is not an April Fool's joke.
For the last few days, and then for a little bit before Patrick came up, I've been incredibly low. I never thought I could get so low (credit: Shaant for the CIWWAF reference). I felt like I was losing Ian in my life, what with him opening up to this ex for the first time since they broke up and reading her responses to what he told her. For the first time since November, I craved that physical release only cutting gave me, but I'd been fighting it. Hard. And for the first time since Graham, I had someone who was willing to fight with me. And that made me feel a little better.
Then yesterday, TJ came over for Easter Sunday dinner (as per my mother's idea/request), and things went too far. We sat/laid talked about some stuff, caught up, the whole time there existing the most awkward tension (something I hadn't felt since Jimmy and Sam first got together), and we were both thankful dinner was called. After, we came back up to my room, talked a little more, and he opened his arms for me to fall asleep in, which I did for the next couple hours. When I woke up, I knew he'd been crying, and following a lot of pestering on my part he told me it was because he read a text Ian sent where he ended with "I love you too." And then...then I'm not really sure. Tension became too much. He kept saying "I'm trying really really hard not to do anything, for your sake" and I kept thinking "Just fucking do it already," and soon enough we were kissing and he was undoing my dress and we kept murmuring something about "one last time." He asked a couple times if I was sure, and I asked the same thing, but I wasn't sure. I knew I was going to regret it that whole entire time, but I thought it would make him feel better and relieve some of the tension between us. So, we slept together. Brief and totally not worth it. He left soon after.
I broke down the second I got back to my room. Begged Ian to Skype with me. Debated between spilling my guts and keeping quiet because I knew it'd only be a one time thing. Ultimately, I went for "you love him with all your heart and you don't want to start this off with secrets" so I told him. It was the first time where I've had the "I fucked up" conversation and cried while doing it. At first, he was confused on what to feel, and an hour into Skype later he said he needed some time to think to himself on what to do, because it was either he was coming to prom and we're going to stick with this together, or he'll throw his hands in the air and leave this because it's not worth the pain after everything he'd been through. I knew I was low, and I should've known that if I'd asked he would've stayed, but I let him go. And I showered, and after nearly 17 months of being cut-free, I caved. An hour later, Ian asked to Skype again ("Hey. Skype?") and I for sure thought that he was going to call it quits. But, he didn't. For some crazy reason because he's out of his mind, he's still here. However, he was still hurt, as a result of an action I'd chosen to partake in. And that made me feel worse than I'd ever felt in my life. Apparently there'd been something in my eyes, telling what I wanted to scream, and he said, "Please don't hurt yourself." I already had, and told him so, and that hurt him worse.
Anyway, we ended the night on a fairly good note, all things considered, and we woke up to each other on Skype before he left for work. He's been gone all day. But, the feeling of regret and hurt and guilt and every bad thing kept coming up, and I slowly started hating myself a little more each minute, and basically I came to the conclusion a few hours ago that Ian would be less hurt if I just disappeared, faded away into nothingness; if I were dead, he'd be okay. I'd intended to cut when I showered sometime tonight in between homework at the least, if not just end it all altogether. But he got what I was feeling out of me (he's actually recording some songs with friends so he's been fairly unreachable since work), and then he sends me this:
"No. If you fade, it will cause me so much more pain. I will never get Rochester with you, so much more talking with you, being with you, experiencing life with you. And you wouldn't get Rochester. You wouldn't get so much of this amazing future you have ahead of you. And I know that that would cause you so much pain, too, missing out on all those things. I'm going to call you in a little bit. Please. Don't hurt yourself, Cait. Please. For me. Just wait for me."
I cried. I did. I mean, before Patrick came, we were missing each other a little on some key parts of our lives; it wasn't as perfect as it'd started out to be. Not that I loved him any less than the first night he barely beat me in telling him, but it was harder. More real, anyway. And then after Patrick left, the urges and whatnot came back, and I wasn't really myself. We weren't "us." But when he sent that, it all kind of dissolved and spread into the back of my mind; I was even more affirmed in thinking so after he called. We're going to be okay. More than okay. I'm fully aware that we've only been talking for a month and there are bound to be more complications, we're both aware of that, but as long as he's here with me and we take on this stuff together, then we'll be alright. We're better together anyhow. I love him so incredibly much, and I can't wait to see what the future has in store for us. Because, as soon as I know this is, I can't see getting any better than Ian. He's quite literally everything I ever wanted, and more. I know I'm young, we both are, but so what? If I met the person I'm meant to be with, don't I have the right to be crazy and stupid, regardless of my age? I think so.
I best be off, have to do the massive pile of papers and other homework and there's only 10 hours to do it before I have to get ready for school! Woo!
For the last few days, and then for a little bit before Patrick came up, I've been incredibly low. I never thought I could get so low (credit: Shaant for the CIWWAF reference). I felt like I was losing Ian in my life, what with him opening up to this ex for the first time since they broke up and reading her responses to what he told her. For the first time since November, I craved that physical release only cutting gave me, but I'd been fighting it. Hard. And for the first time since Graham, I had someone who was willing to fight with me. And that made me feel a little better.
Then yesterday, TJ came over for Easter Sunday dinner (as per my mother's idea/request), and things went too far. We sat/laid talked about some stuff, caught up, the whole time there existing the most awkward tension (something I hadn't felt since Jimmy and Sam first got together), and we were both thankful dinner was called. After, we came back up to my room, talked a little more, and he opened his arms for me to fall asleep in, which I did for the next couple hours. When I woke up, I knew he'd been crying, and following a lot of pestering on my part he told me it was because he read a text Ian sent where he ended with "I love you too." And then...then I'm not really sure. Tension became too much. He kept saying "I'm trying really really hard not to do anything, for your sake" and I kept thinking "Just fucking do it already," and soon enough we were kissing and he was undoing my dress and we kept murmuring something about "one last time." He asked a couple times if I was sure, and I asked the same thing, but I wasn't sure. I knew I was going to regret it that whole entire time, but I thought it would make him feel better and relieve some of the tension between us. So, we slept together. Brief and totally not worth it. He left soon after.
I broke down the second I got back to my room. Begged Ian to Skype with me. Debated between spilling my guts and keeping quiet because I knew it'd only be a one time thing. Ultimately, I went for "you love him with all your heart and you don't want to start this off with secrets" so I told him. It was the first time where I've had the "I fucked up" conversation and cried while doing it. At first, he was confused on what to feel, and an hour into Skype later he said he needed some time to think to himself on what to do, because it was either he was coming to prom and we're going to stick with this together, or he'll throw his hands in the air and leave this because it's not worth the pain after everything he'd been through. I knew I was low, and I should've known that if I'd asked he would've stayed, but I let him go. And I showered, and after nearly 17 months of being cut-free, I caved. An hour later, Ian asked to Skype again ("Hey. Skype?") and I for sure thought that he was going to call it quits. But, he didn't. For some crazy reason because he's out of his mind, he's still here. However, he was still hurt, as a result of an action I'd chosen to partake in. And that made me feel worse than I'd ever felt in my life. Apparently there'd been something in my eyes, telling what I wanted to scream, and he said, "Please don't hurt yourself." I already had, and told him so, and that hurt him worse.
Anyway, we ended the night on a fairly good note, all things considered, and we woke up to each other on Skype before he left for work. He's been gone all day. But, the feeling of regret and hurt and guilt and every bad thing kept coming up, and I slowly started hating myself a little more each minute, and basically I came to the conclusion a few hours ago that Ian would be less hurt if I just disappeared, faded away into nothingness; if I were dead, he'd be okay. I'd intended to cut when I showered sometime tonight in between homework at the least, if not just end it all altogether. But he got what I was feeling out of me (he's actually recording some songs with friends so he's been fairly unreachable since work), and then he sends me this:
"No. If you fade, it will cause me so much more pain. I will never get Rochester with you, so much more talking with you, being with you, experiencing life with you. And you wouldn't get Rochester. You wouldn't get so much of this amazing future you have ahead of you. And I know that that would cause you so much pain, too, missing out on all those things. I'm going to call you in a little bit. Please. Don't hurt yourself, Cait. Please. For me. Just wait for me."
I cried. I did. I mean, before Patrick came, we were missing each other a little on some key parts of our lives; it wasn't as perfect as it'd started out to be. Not that I loved him any less than the first night he barely beat me in telling him, but it was harder. More real, anyway. And then after Patrick left, the urges and whatnot came back, and I wasn't really myself. We weren't "us." But when he sent that, it all kind of dissolved and spread into the back of my mind; I was even more affirmed in thinking so after he called. We're going to be okay. More than okay. I'm fully aware that we've only been talking for a month and there are bound to be more complications, we're both aware of that, but as long as he's here with me and we take on this stuff together, then we'll be alright. We're better together anyhow. I love him so incredibly much, and I can't wait to see what the future has in store for us. Because, as soon as I know this is, I can't see getting any better than Ian. He's quite literally everything I ever wanted, and more. I know I'm young, we both are, but so what? If I met the person I'm meant to be with, don't I have the right to be crazy and stupid, regardless of my age? I think so.
I best be off, have to do the massive pile of papers and other homework and there's only 10 hours to do it before I have to get ready for school! Woo!
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