Confessions

Today I realized that no matter how much I work or how much money I make, it is not enough to pay all the bills I have. No matter how hard I try in school, it is never enough to get an A. No matter how hard I try to be a good person and a great girlfriend, it will NEVER be enough.

I know it hurts, baby. I hate that you feel alone but we have to do this. If there’s no future, the break has to be clean…and if there is a possibility of something down the road, it’s better that we don’t muss it up with complications in the present.

Have a little faith in me, love. I’m here if it gets bad, but this time apart can be our clarity.

That was a test for me. I know it’s not you but it didn’t hurt anyway thinking it might be. 🙂 Yay me. I rock. Time to get it on with some hot boys.

I keep finding all these blogs and news stories and lists that spell out the signs of abusers. You are one. Every sign is you. All these stories about how women ‘got out’. About how a lot of them weren’t battered physically but emotionally. That’s you again. I keep thinking ‘yes, yes, I get it’. This is what I’ve been dwelling on in my mind. What I’ve been praying to get away from but no door has opened. I thought if I prayed God would say ‘go’. Nothing. And yet all these things keep reminding me of what you are- what you were- what you have done and it’s like I’m being reminded because somehow I’m the one holding back when that’s not the case. I don’t need to be reminded. I dwell on it. And if I had had the money I’d have left your ass a LOOONG time ago. I would have ran and never looked back. If I had the money now it would mean everything. So I don’t know what all these blogs and news stories and lists on Dear Abby are showing up for. It’s like the Universe is trying to tell me something and I’m like telling the Universe ‘you don’t have to tell me! I already know! That’s what I’ve been talking to YOU about HELP ME’. Still nothing.

Dear you,

Yes, this is another dear you. I don’t know why I’m writing this because these are words you may or not may see. Do I want you to see them? Of course I do. We all want to portray ourselves honestly but don’t do so out of fearing that once you bare your soul and true intent it is too late to take them back. Will I send them to you? I haven’t decided yet.

You know that we can’t be together. You really really know we can’t. So I suggest we stop pretending. It hurts all the more to say this because you always go on about how much you love me before breaking my heart over and over again. Then you pretend like something else is to blame and lament how you’ll never find anybody else again because you rarely ‘meet’ somebody. Seeing as you’ve proved me wrong a total of fifteen times within less than a year, I won’t feel bad if I fell in love with the right girl the next day.

I suppose that’s one half of the truth too. I met a nice girl a couple of weeks back. She makes me really happy despite only meeting her a couple of times and exchanging a few e-mails. Something I never got from you. Oh, right. What I wanted to say – no matter how many times you say it, no matter how much you supposedly love me you forget one thing, my dear:

Being in love and being happy in a good relationship aren’t the same thing. I don’t love you. Not anymore.

Me.

Sometimes I want to go in chatrooms and lie about my age and sex so I can cyber with people. I’ve never actually done it but I think about doing it a lot.

I love you Jordan.

I had a weird dream last night. I was rich, and I was in my room, and then I went downstairs. Everyone was in the living room. I felt like someone was trying to get to me, so I went outside, and my house was on a hill, so I walked down the hill to sit on a low wall that was off of the high way. It was warm outside and the sun was just starting to set. Then three people can by that I knew on one bike. I didn’t know the girl, but I knew the two guys. One of the boys smelled really bad. So he went into his house across the street and he came out smelling worse. Then they rode off. And I still sat there waiting. It was dark out and I remember feeling my best friend lives on a street close to me. And I wanted to go to her house and wait, but I knew whoever was coming was going to my house. Then I wanted to get up and go, but there were more cars and they kept coming faster and there were more. And I was scared. Finally I decided I could make it, so I jumped off the wall, and ran back up to my house. And when I woke up I was crying. I was crying so bad I couldn’t breath. I know why I was crying too; because whoever I was waiting for didn’t come.

To me, that is all this site is about. Wanting to be heard, whether anyone listens or not.

Truth is im not ready to marry you..i felt pressured when you asked christmas day in front of your family…im not sure your what i want….ive cheated on you twice…once with the ex you hated and on valentines day…where i skipped class and got high for the first time with this guy…and the messed up thing is he also has a gf…i feel horrible…i know if i tell him i have no where to live :/ so my lips are sealed

it’s amazing how much we just want to be heard. I mean, we all harbour these everyday doubts which grow and latch onto our egos. Though it weighs us down it adds bulk. we naturally assume that because we feel incontent, unappreciated, depressed etc that we ARE, when all it takes is a spark of interest in something else to entirely dispel our unhappiness. Our frailty is matched only by our power/will.

and still as we stand in humanity’s adolescence, I can’t help but wonder why I’ve always felt like this, why I’m nothing special, none of us are, why some will devote their lives to studying others rather than themselves (psychiatrists) why some will devote their lives almost exclusively to themselves (suits) and why some – rather than participate in the rat race – would sooner sit and try to label the grotesque miscalculations indigenous to our species (like myself) I mean, how bitter can I be? how much can I know? I’m only fucking eighteen.

I’m too clingy and everyone thinks thats cute. I’m afraid of thunder, the dark, heights, deep water, clowns, and death. And everyone thinks that’s cute. Everyone thinks I look cute. I don’t want to be cute. I don’t want all these to flirt with me. I don’t want all these people confessing how they feel about me. I just want you. I want our relationship to be more. I wish I could hug you. I wish I could kiss you. I wish I could see you, instead of it being on a screen. I’m scared. I’m scared of what you’d think of me if you saw me outside of the internet. Sometimes I cry because I feel like I’m not good enough. Sometimes I cry because I know all these people who love me are just on the internet. Because no one could love me anywhere else.

I fucking love you, NyQuil.

And part of me knows, that NyQuil loves me too. :^)

I wish I never told anyone about you. I wish you were just my secret. I know they just wish they were you.

So I got a random text a while back from a random number with a weird area code.
I couldn’t reply back because I’m out of minutes.
But when I went to look up the area code I found out its the state he just moved to and I don’t know if I should care or not give a fuck.

Youve been the subject of my dreams for the past 3 nights. Every time we’re either dating again, or I’m attempting to show you how I feel. Last night you were dating you’re friend jason, I nearly cried when I woke up just at the thought of you being with him in a dream… what does that say about how I feel about you?? Too bad you’ll never know that I regret every bad decision Ive ever made and that Id give anything to go back to the way things were…I guess I’ll just have to move one, even though every day I cant talk to you is torture..

I’ve given up on him. It’s about time. I am free.

The hollow feeling is back. I’m married to a man that doesn’t even see me anymore and is happy to limp along in this pitiful excuse for a marriage. And all the while I’m consumed with longing for another man who will never love me.

I wish my heart would turn numb because I don’t want to feel any of this anymore.

Do you ever dream about me?
I hope you do. I don’t see how you couldn’t when I can’t stop thinking about you, especially at night. And last night I cried because I thought about October. And how I wish you were different. But I can’t change anyone, no especially not you. But I’ll always love you. And I’ll always wish you never went away, I’ll always wish you stayed with me no matter how far away you’d be. All the wishing doesn’t do me good but I’ll wish anyways.
xx

I cant let go of you,
even though you say i need to…
I don’t know what it feels like to be hopeless, but i think I’m sinking…
even if it means taking my hand one last time- just take my fingers off one by one so i can slip.
just one last time, let me hold your hand as you let me down…
Goodnight moon, i hope you really do know that your all that i think about,
all that i dream about…
and now I’m really asking myself… how i ever did breath without, a goodnight kiss from goodnight you?
i thought this was the hope they all talked about…