Stupid Girl

Ugh, okay, so I have officially hit my last strand of patience and sanity today. I didn't start today with much in the first place. I've got so much on my mind, so much to think about and so much to do. The reason I game is to get away from it all, it's a great escape.

I got Black Ops as soon as it came out, and I have been playing the hell out of it honestly, because it's fun and it keeps my mind off of things. Best thing, is the ratio of men to women is impossibly delightful, seeing as there is only perhaps one woman to every one or two hundred men. 

So today I am playing in a partied group of people, some of which I don't know because they are friends of people who invited me. I notice there is one girl there, and she talks quite a bit, but eh, doesn't bother me that much. I don't really talk much on mic unless I'm gaming with Trevor simply because we play tactically or try to help each other out. 

In a game of Domination in Ground War- which might I add I've only played Domination once before, and not even a full match (and I don't like it, you need a good tactical team of close  buddies to win that game well)- she and Dovich were talking, and she was questioning his username. He told her where it came from, and how to pronounce it, and she finally decided to just call him by his first name, when he offered it out. I laughed quietly, and said "Maybe I'll start calling you ____ too, seeing as Dovich is way too complicated." It was a joke, a bit of a sarcastic, but light-hearted tone. But low and behold, I forgot that I was talking to Mother Nature's bitch species.

She started literally ranting off, calling me a bitch, saying she didn't need my damn opinion and all this shit. I just sat quiet, I didn't quit the match, I just put up with her bullshit until the end, then backed out of the game completely. It pissed me off so bad too. Do you know, I hate to bite my tongue so hard, but I know- being one- that nine times out of ten if you start a verbal argument with a woman like that, you'll only get more and more pissed off. So either way, I would've gotten to this point, I decided it best to take this route. 

She just really pissed me off. I hate women sometimes, most of the time actually. A lot of women are just bitchy, complaining, and don't ever take a joke lightly like it should be taken. That's why I prefer men in my company. Men are less likely to be superficial, don't bitch as much, and tend to take jokes much better than women. 

Ugh, there was so much I wanted to say. Stupid bitch should've just taken the damn joke that way it was supposed to be, the guys laughed, but when they laughed after  she rolled off the smartass insults to me, they laughed again and went "Ooooooo". It felt like high school all over again. And it reminded me of one instance in very particular, a flashback I haven't had in a long time...

In middle school, I had one class where I was the apart of the only three white people, in a class of about twenty or twenty-two. The white boy was popular, the white girl acted black, and I was the outcast. Of course, I was going to get picked on. There was one girl, named Erika, who found total amusement in putting me down. She'd get literally in my face, the entire class surrounding me, and insult me. They all just laughed. "Hey you fat cracker, you deaf? You like it when I call you fat? Hm? Ha, guys, she's not responding. I think she's fantasizing about me, stupid lesbian cunt."  Every day, for five months. Finally I had come to confront her, because I never had the nerve to stand up to her when the entire class was on her side and I was absolutely alone, only able to just sit back and deal with the torment I dealt with and the dread that made me skip class and try to do anything to stay away from her and that class. 

One day I had come up to her classroom, and did what I could to negotiate without being as low as she was. I told her that I was sick and tired of her crap, that she needed to start treating me with some respect, that she wasn't going to accomplish anything worthwhile with her life if she wasted it putting others beneath her. She acted sympathetic, hugged me, apologized. She was a great actress. As I turned and walked away, I overheard her step into her second block classroom.

"What was that about?"

Erika: "Dumb lesbian chunk wanted me to date her, I was like 'hell naw', even if I was a lesbian, I'd never touch her fat ass with a ten foot pole". 

Back to that woman. Stupid bitch, she reminded just of Erika. I don't feel like gaming anymore, and without Jeremy home, I am just going to curl up in bed and forget I exist for a little bit. Plus I'm staying away from the IRC room after last night's cry-fest all initiated by my trials to rekindle friendship with Ben and the awkward comment made by Jen. Ugh. I only got three hours of sleep last night, and three more during the afternoon today.

God what a wretched day. I want so much to have real friends again...

Cry

This time was different.

Felt like I was just a victim.

And it cut me like a knife,

When you walked out of my life.

Now I'm in this condition,

I've got all the symptoms...

Stop it. You have no idea what has happened to me, what you did. 

I really want to be friends, I don't want to just let you walk out of my life so easily when I literally trusted you with everything I had. I know how things turned out, but please, just be my damn friend. I'm so tired of wondering if you just don't care anymore, that it meant nothing to you. At least if you are my friend I'll not feel like you give no shit at all about me. 

And you and her need to stop flirting in front of me. I don't love you, but damn does it hurt to be constantly reminded of how I got played. You screwed me, took my valuable and meaningful virginity, and never even dated me like you promised. Now you are making sexual flirts with a married woman. Talk about rubbing it in my face. Sometimes I try not to think of you in certain ways, but damn, are you shallow as a puddle? Best way to die is during sex? Hm? 

I kind of hope I never have sex again... It only caused me pain... 

Jeremy is a wonderful guy, and I care about him so much, but when I think about it, I can only find myself hoping hoping hoping he won't do to me what you did, and it makes me feel like I shouldn't do it with him until far far later in time, when he has physically proved to me that I'm worth staying with, and actually dating. One day I will give him that of me, but I don't know when, or how, or how much it will take for me to get comfortable with the idea of sharing that same whole of my heart and body that got me put into this whirlwind of ache in the first place.

You disgust me. But I still think you're a good friend, I don't know how that works. Some say I shouldn't talk to you at all, I keep thinking if you just become friends with me I will feel so much better about things. Otherwise, I feel like you just dropped me and went right on to another chick without a damn care in the world. I know you won't be serious about her. You know why?

She has no job, possibly no college, no car. She's in the same situation I was in, and as you put it, we were "in two different positions in life and things wouldn't work out". Oh, and she's married. I can understand its just flirting, but please don't talk about fucking her in front of the girl who trusted you with her virginity only to get backstabbed by the rejection of that trust into this cold well of denial I suffer.

God, I pray, let Jeremy be a good man. I know, I said I wasn't going to pray for a man to be right again, because every time I do pray for a man to work out, it goes more and more south with every extra prayer...

But I don't want to hurt like this ever again. After everything I've been through, just once, give me someone who's real, who's deep and cares. Please God let him date me as soon as we meet, let him make love to me and decide he wants to spend his life with only me, or something like that. I don't think I can take losing someone again after giving them everything. It hurt bad enough this last time... I mean, I never was anything more than a friend. I lost my virginity to a friend. A friend. A friend. A friend. A friend. A friend. A friend... Nothing more than... a friend...

I hate what I did with him. I shouldn't have done it. I should've been smart, should've waited. Should've waited til we dated, and since it wasn't going to happen (or maybe it would've if I was holding the sex back), I would've been safe.

I'm thrusting my heart out there again, and my heart is fully forward, without any care about you anymore Loki. But what my heart is not without is the scars and the memories. 

I can't believe I had sex with you... I can't believe I gave you my virginity, and you never even dated me...

I hope this time is different, Jeremy, please, please be different... I'm a shattered woman as is, but I'm a good woman if you can take me for all my little pieces... But I can't go through what happened again, my pieces will turn into dust, and I will disappear and become apart of the wind itself.

God don't make me go through this pain again...

With Only Myself

I'm going to try and make this a short blog, the chances of that actually happening though are completely up for grabs by any of us.

It's just sad sometimes when I'm alone. I can really think about things, and I can end up bringing myself down. The reason why? Because it's when I realize I only have one person I'm close to. Lost the others, lost my friends, they lost me too. I have no one to talk to when it's all said and done but him. It sucks. I play video games with my mic on and just randomly try to start conversation just so I can pretend to socialize a bit, but it really feels like I have no one to talk to... 

It sucks that I have no friends, that they all moved away or forgot about me, like most people do. And to make it all better...

Jennifer in the chatroom decided to crack a joke when I said I'd plant zombies in the homes of my enemies. She goes "Watch out Loki", and I literally started crying...

What the hell is wrong with me? He's not my enemy, I want him to be my friend, but it's so difficult, he's always busy and I feel like I'm forcing him to be friends with me when I ask him to talk to me. I just...

I don't know what to do. It bothers me, every time a reminder that things are so off-set and awkward, and that everything went down the way it did. Always reminded I'm not a virgin anymore, that I lost my best friends over the summer, and that I'm still fighting for one friend back.  He's not my enemy, so don't say he is, I still care about him, things turned out horribly but I can forgive Loki and myself. 

Just, ugh!

I still feel all used up sometimes, like every time I start getting strong again, my legs falter and I realize I'm still too weak to stand up yet. The most pain I've ever been through, the hurt is not yet over. My virginity meant the world to me, and giving it to someone I loved, and I thought there was so much, and I never even dated the guy.  I shouldn't have been an idiot and had sex with him before dating, because I would've been so much more sane...

I wish I had something to do or somewhere to go, to get me away from these thoughts. Even in my bed I have memories of him. I don't want to... get rid of them, get rid of the people, undo it all. I wish I had my damn friend back... 

God I want to move away, and be with the man I'm talking to now, and do things right, I pray to God I do things right... I just hate these long nights, and it only took a few simple words and all that followed to trigger it. 

Time for a melt down.

In The Misfit Middle

Things are just running me crazy. I can't believe my life, if it's not one thing it's another. I have a horrible romantic life that might be looking up, but I can't help but be a bit scared. I have a financial situation that's going to either end up just right or very badly, and I have to be super careful about things. I have issues with money altogether. I have no life experience, no one to teach me how to drive, and no experience with socializing/working in a professional situation. 


So I was going to register for college this coming up semester, and I'll just put this down as "financial trouble" came up, and now I am having some major problems with knowing where to go. I won't start college at the moment, but instead maybe get a job, get my surgery, and start trying to save up to move to Ohio as soon as possible. Everything is so difficult... 


First let's start with my mother.


My mother, who I love. She was the woman who raised me for seventeen years. She did the best as a mother that she could, I think. I don't think my mother was meant to be a mother. She doesn't remember the bad things that I do, and so she doesn't understand why I moved out. She doesn't think I love her anymore, because I moved out. She thinks I use her, and I don't. I wish my mother could see it, feel it through me. It's not fair, I was with her. Fourteen years of my horrible step-father, and I was there. I was not the greatest kid, but I did as best as I knew how with the people I had to raise me. My step-father, who put me down constantly and always ridiculed me. I'd be fat and worthless forever in his eyes unless I did things his way. My mother, I loved her. Though she was mad sometimes, and sometimes she didn't want to deal with me, and didn't want to deal with my step-father (thus letting him take out his frustration on me), I still loved her... I still love her... I held her hair when she threw up, one time when I was a little girl. I was perhaps between the ages of 10 and 12. I sat on the bathroom floor on my knees behind her, the candlelight on the counter the only light in the master bathroom. Mom was hugged to the porcelain toilet bowl and puking, and what was I doing? Running my hands through her hair, wiping her face with a cold washcloth, and telling her it was going to be okay. Rubbing her back and telling her it was all all right, sitting with her while she was sick because her husband "didn't want to catch the bug" though it was her nerves and not her body making her ill. 


The last time my mother called me without me having to text her to call me or calling her first, she wanted to know if I had stolen money out of her bank account... That was a few months ago... She doesn't really check up on me much. I have given up, and I call her now to talk about renting movies and ask her in simple snippets of how is she doing, I'm good, etc. The last time I saw her, I'd told her I'd take her out to dinner and pay, that was the only way I'd get to take her out just her and me. But low and behold when she shows up to pick me up, her husband is there. And at the end of the meal that was not just me and Mom like I'd hoped, he pulls out a giant three-inch roll of cash and pays for his and Mom's meal, and I have to pay for my own, tip and all. If I had known it was going to turn out like that, I wouldn't have went. Thus why I haven't asked my mother out any more. It never just works out anymore. When I move away, maybe it'll be easier to accept that we rarely see each other and that I am always the one trying to see her and not my mother trying to see her only daughter.


I love you Mom, I just wish you could understand and love me back... Just help me, care about me... I miss you a lot...

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I miss my friend Nick. You have no idea, how many times I turn on the TV and hear a song, or hear music, and it reminds me of him. It sounds like him, Nick had the most beautiful singing voice. I listen to his music sometime on my laptop, and I wish I'd hear from him again. I remember when he sang me those songs, like "I'm Yours" though I thought he was such a dork for that one. But I listened to that song probably a hundred times or more. That was probably my favorite he'd sent me. 


Even when I found out about Jennifer, and realized that you probably had strong feelings for multiple girls and not just your girlfriend Chelsea, it didn't really bother me like it did Jen. I guess because I treasured your friendship. I didn't care if you loved me or not, you were my best friend, and you were good to me. Even though you obviously competed with Ben to prove you were better than him on an almost daily basis. Which also made me laugh. 


Eh, I miss your hyperactive sailor-mouth. You were fun, I miss you too. Sorry you had to go, to get to your own life and forget about me when I wanted a friend the most... I guess being alone in that time of so much pain did me a little good... Made me realize how easily I am disposed of...

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I mentioned Ben, right? Might as well touch on that. I'm still commissioning his gift. I had commissioned him a oil painting of his pet dog Takun before we kind of "split up" and it is a little too late to have it undone, so today I asked for him to give me his address again. I also manned up to tell him I wanted to talk to him. Just a friendly chat. I don't want to completely lose contact with him, I'd probably be a lot more sane if he'd just be friends with me. I'm tired of the cycle of giving a man my everything and then losing him to the point of no contact ever again. I refuse to just let him walk on, I don't care how bad his life sucks. He's going to have to deal with me as long as I can manage to nag his sorry ass. 


I just... Eh... Even though we were never more than friends, he was a good friend. I loved him more than I had ever loved anyone in my entire life, and it hurt to realize how little we really had going between us, but pain makes you stronger, or at least makes you pretend to be stronger. Nothing like a cripple who thinks they're Superman... I don't want to just lose someone who knows everything about me and knows me like the back of his hand. I would like to continue being friends, and chit-chat and laugh together. I don't think I'd ever feel the same about him as I once did because he took my virginity and never fulfilled his promises of dating me or seeing me again... But I don't want to feel that way about him anymore. I just want my friend back...

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How am I going to move to Ohio on my own? I have no cash, wait, take that back. I have about eighty dollars to my name. The people in my family who have money don't care about me, and the people who care don't have money to offer. The financial situation at hand makes things super difficult because I can't get a job until a certain period of time, in a certain step in a list of steps. Then having to file for my own HealthCare and pray it goes through. Moving up to Ohio, getting my own place, getting a roommate or Jeremy to move in with me, and trying to get everything in order so in the fall I can definitely start college. Ugh, the whole moving situation on no cash is impossible. But I've got to try. If I'm going to do summer / fall college, I need to be up there by May at the latest...






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And finally? What else, but a rant. Of course, because there is one person I keep an eye on who has just pissed me off today...


I'll just start, and go down a list.


-You are not a good mother.
A good mother takes their actions into consideration, and thinks about their kids when they do things. A mother also does not brag about being a mother and using it as an excuse or title to make you see more mature than you truly are. Being a mother is about responsibility, and if you can't even take care of yourself, and care about yourself, how do you expect to take care of your children? Stop using those kids like accessories or a Girl Scout badge. Whoop-dee-doo, you got kids. And how old are you? And why aren't they in your custody again?


-You think you have self-confidence issues? You think you look bad? 
Oh my nose is too big, oh I got pregnancy weight left and I'm scared of my stomach sticking out in clothes. Happy day for you. You grew up and got picked on for looking like a boy? I grew up and got picked on because I was fat, and because of my health issues no matter what I did (karate, soccer, sports, running, etc), I couldn't ever seem to drop the weight, just gain muscle mass. I always got picked on for being tall and big, but not fat in the manner of most fat girls. I got picked on for being manly big, but as I grew older it fell into women always picking on me because I wasn't a toothpick or blond and I wore clothes from the men's section, clothes I had been wearing for years because I didn't get new clothes very often. Men were just friendzoning me or wanting me for one thing or another, and never the something real I wanted. I have hormonal issues that made me very odd for both my age and shape as I got older. Pack on the health problems underlying my fatness that everyone just wrote off as me having to be a big eater at home, and the parents who didn't want to take me to the doctor because I "over-exaggerated my issues", I didn't do well in the area of being attractive. 


-Don't talk shit about a good man.
Just because you can't find one yourself. You obviously find some self-sanity in putting yourself on a pedestal and saying that you only got to be in the horrible state you're in because of others. You put down men, and ha, well, what for? You're the one who put up with them. And this brings me to another thing:


-Don't say he fucked you up.
If you didn't like it, if it hurt, leave you dumb bitch. Good God, is that such a hard concept? If a man did you wrong, leave. If you didn't like it, and he hurt you, and he "fucked you up", then why did you stay with him, and then later have a child by him? Hm? P.S.: At thirteen you shouldn't have been having sex anyway. What is wrong with the world today?! Don't spread your legs until you've completed puberty!


-How are you going to talk shit about a man you were with, when...
You cheated on him? When he had to question if the child was even his or not? Did you have any thoughts on how that must've made him feel? Don't put him down when the entire time he was in love with you and planning on marrying you, you were whoring around with your legs spread so wide that you were attracting tourists. You are so full of shit sometimes, please woman just shut your face and think about it all for once. The only reason you are fucked up is because you do not make good decisions, and you have yet to realize this yourself to such a degree as to stop making stupid choices in your life.


-You have man problems?
Probably so, if I've noticed something, it's that you love sex- just not with the person you're dating after things have gotten serious. Ugh, woman grow up. Sex is not a cigarette. You don't smoke it when you want it,  and you don't try other cigarettes when you get tired of the taste. You fall in love with someone, and you share an intimate experience. You touch, caress, and make love. You share more than your body, you give your mind and heart in love-making. You make it more than sex. And when you make love, you don't need sex with others. You've got all you need in one place when you are in love. You apparently have no clue of what love is.


-You think you have family problems?
You don't like what your mother and father say to you? Well imagine how they must feel, deciding you like your biological family more than them. My goodness hon, it must have hurt them to some degree. Plus with how wild you've gone, how would you feel if your kids were called whores and deep down you knew that they had earned that title? They raised you, and then you just go about and run around the world with no moral boundaries. I'd probably make jokes and not be the nicest to you either.


-You can't find yourself?
You're searching in the wrong places. You are never going to find yourself simply by changing your hair, clothes, and acting differently. You find yourself when you take responsibility of your circumstances and decide to handle your life a little more maturely than you already have. And gain some self-respect, you might be able to find yourself if you stop flitting around with man after man.


-You think you are fat as a size 7?
I'm a size 18, talk about huge as hell. I have been a size 18 for years, my medication only keeps me from gaining weight, and nothing I really do helps me drop pounds. Only drinking lots and lots of water keeps me looking thinner because of my water weight gain that goes up and down every day. I hate my size, so don't bitch when you are a size 7. You can still find clothes your size in most stores in a mall. I can't. So shut the fuck up.


-You hate your stretch marks? 
At least you have a nice story with them. Pregnancy causes stretch-marks, if you didn't want the stretch marks, you shouldn't have gotten pregnant. I have stretch marks too, but not from pregnancy. My story isn't as understandable. I have stretch marks because of the eating disorders I went through in my home life when I was younger, going through middle school with all the torment of being the fatty of my class. I would starve myself, or shovel food, throw up if I felt too large. I tried every diet pill you could think of save for a scarce few like Alli because it was too expensive. I have stretch marks too, but screw what people think. You say you aren't superficial, but you worry about your looks so much. If someone loves you, they love you because of who you are inside. If you aren't finding someone who can love those little flaws in you, they don't love you. And you said you are looking for yourself, well you aren't going to find you all on the outside. Dig deeper, or maybe you are just naturally as shallow as a puddle and just can't tell.

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End rant.

Nightmares

Artwork by ~nova-flux

You've filled me with nightmares, and I can't get rid of them. When I feel like I am totally solid and safe, you creep into my mind with the memories of what happened between us. They come to me and infect me, and I begin to hate myself again. I don't love you anymore, but it doesn't change the fact that the terrors and memories won't go away. 

I close my eyes, and I see it all as if I am right there and I can't escape. I remember being in the hot tub, surrounded by the warm water and bubbles, the large open bathroom and stained glass window next to us. No one would think of such a setting as haunting, and at the time I thought it was Heaven. But the memories as they play back, they are my Hell. I remember wrapping my arms around you, our naked bodies together as I cradled you against my chest and felt your wet hair against my shoulder as we watched the TV in the corner of the room. I remember the smell of the bubbles, the smell of your skin. The droplets of water beaded on the crook of your neck. Your lips and how they looked when moist. I used to think those lips were my morphine, that those lips saved my life. It's funny, how those lips had been just another thing that lured me in, the thing that helped you plant the seed of infection into my soul, giving me this disease I now struggle to defeat and survive. I remember how while we were just simply snuggling in those warm waters, you began to reach back, touching my thighs with your pruned fingertips. Aching to feel me, to feel what no other man had felt but you. Was I a trophy? You turned around, and I can remember it all as if the whole memory were lived in slow motion. Your body rising before settling as you had come to face me, a devilish look on your moist features. Your eyes met mine, as you put your hands near me, and pulled my hips towards you. 

Something about me will always hate you for the nightmares you've given me. When I look back, I feel like you used sex as a way to deliver the essence of darkness into my soul. While so deceived, it felt so right, so good, so in love. You promised me you'd date me, you promised me it was not the last time I'd see you. But you were like every other man in my life. Every other boyfriend, every other friend, every father-figure and beyond. You couldn't keep your promises. They were hollow and cold, and simply ties in which you strung to later hang me by. 

I remember our first time. I remember my first time. I remember how I thought you were my soulmate, how you said you loved me in my ear. How we hadn't even been together 24 hours yet. Not even ten. How I laid in that bed and felt like finally I had found someone to trust. I remember reaching between my legs, touching my womanhood and remembering how soft the skin felt and how I felt like I were doing right by myself to give away the virginity that lay not just inside of my walls, but inside of my soul and heart. I remember feeling you push into me, I remember the sudden sensation of being bonded to someone and wanting that bond to last a lifetime. I remember clinging to you, and even though it was my first time, I remember wanting to please you. I remembered that the best thing about making love was knowing I was making the love of my life happy. When I take away those feelings... It was... 

Sick. Disgusting. Looking back, those memories are edged with poison that creeps to the center though the focus of my memories is so clear and untainted that it only enhances how harmful they really are. I remember you leaning in, whispering that you were so in love with me as you had sex with me. I remember everything sadly. I wish I could go back. Erase them. Delete them. Give them to someone else. Not care. Not act like it meant the world to me to finally trust a man the way I trusted you. 

I remember laying in bed with you afterward, in your bed one night. I had wrapped my arms around you and held you close to me, like I would never let go. You will never find a woman to touch you with such a caring embrace again. You will never have a woman who wants to protect and love you the way I tried to. I remember I would not sleep those nights. I stayed up and listened to your heartbeat; it sounded like thunder in the silence of the room, and my own was a softer melody that it gave bass to. The blue lights of your computer stirred with opalescent moonlight. Back then, it made you look heavenly and angelic. Now it made you look like an incubus. You were a demon, with your perfect lean body and beautiful features. You were a wolf, and I was a sheep, and you got me. Sweet spoken and graceful, you have finally done it. I feel it now. The numbness is gone, and I can feel where your jaws dug into my insides and crushed what was within me. 

I remember the day you left. I sat in the bottom of our hotel shower, my legs wrapped around you as you leaned back against me. The water ran over our skin, and I had my arms around you. There was total silence as we laid in the floor of the shower for what was perhaps an hour. I remember wishing over and over again that the time in there would never end. That we'd never get up. That the world outside of that wooden bathroom door would just disappear, and leave us. I knew what I had given you, and I was so faithfully sure that you would hold that fragile heart with care. You promised me you wouldn't hurt me.

You lied. 

Apart of me will always want your friendship, simply because I can act more mature of it all, and realize that I don't want to give someone so much of me and lose them completely. I will always want to be your friend to some degree. But apart of me will always hate you for what you did to me. Apart of me knows, one day when you have another woman with you, you will feel the difference. She will never trace her hands over you with the love and analytical grace that I did. She will never hold you even when you are strong, just so that she can ensure you understand what she would do for you and how she loves you. She will never make love to you the way I did. She, no matter who she is, will never give you the passion or the creativity that I did, with the love that I did. You will never find another like me. I wonder when you will realize what you have lost, if you ever realize it at all.

I wish I could get rid of the memories... They haunt me so much... These nightmares you gave to me... Sometimes I wish I didn't remember at all. Sometimes I wish I had never touched you at all. It would've saved me so much pain and sanity. If I could just feel right again, as if there was not a black viral sickness inside of me, that every now and again flares as if to make me feel like I'm turning into a brimstone cast of the woman I was when I had so much hope and was pure of your illness and dark love.

I will be pure again one day. But how long will it take me to get over the disease? No one can quite understand the exact situation. These words underestimate it all. I don't love you. I am almost to the point of hating you fully, but I refrain because I don't wish to hate anyone, and I already hate too many people by only hating two. But you did a bad, horrible thing to me. I hope you forever hate yourself for what you've done to me. Because I hate myself for it. 

-Eternity

Like A Stone

Artwork by *fiyvis

In your house I long to be
Room by room, patiently
I'll wait for you there like a stone

I'll wait for you there alone

"Like a Stone" by Audioslave

Sometimes a song can just speak to you, and this one is a long standing favorite of mine. 

I have had the same ol' same ol' on the mind today. The usual about what's happened the past few months in my life. About my childhood, about everything. This post will be about my future, and my current romantic adventures amongst the world of men.

I know, once upon a time I told you I'd actually mix this blog up with emotional things as well as some thoughtful crap. I can go on and tell you now that there won't be as much thoughtful blogging as we both would like. So yeah, just thought I'd let you down easy heheh. 

Future plans, hm. Well, I want to go into Creative Writing in college, and get a MFA in that field. While going through the six years of college it would take, I'd also like to double minor in Studio Art and Psychology. I'm going to begin it all starting this January, of 2011, with one semester of local community college. From there, I will see. I'm doing this to give myself more time to decide where I'm going before I pick up and just haul it across the country. So far I've been offered a place to live during the summer, and I might take the man up on that offer if all goes well between us between now and the end of May. Then from there, next fall, maybe do another semester of community college, either up there near him or down here, depending on how the summer goes. Then from there, to a university where I can go onward with my education and get my BFA, maybe take a break, or just plow on to my MFA.

Hm. Yep, that's about as deep as my puddle goes right about now in life. I just want my education, to be happy, and to be out of this little mudhole that I live in. I know, big dreams and goals I got going on, right? 

I want one guy. A good guy. Decent, sweet, respectful, responsible, mature, fun, and laid back. I want to meet a guy and stay with said guy, and do things the right way. And make love to the guy, spend a lot of time with the guy, and eventually get married to the guy, have a family, have a life with the one guy.

Oh. I also want to learn to drive, get a car, and maybe even learn how to cook like a semi-normal woman. Oh... and I want some cookies [/random]. 

Heh, yeah, that's about it. The reason Audioslave's "Like a Stone" is stuck in my head is because I was thinking about how much I have been willing to sacrifice to find true happiness and real love with a man in the past. How much I've been willing to give up to go and make a life with someone, though those people were not seeking a life with one woman or even a life with me.

Either way... yeah.

-Eternity

To Say Never Again...

Artwork by ~PickTheScabs

Jeez, talk about being a weirdo as I am sometimes... I just need to get this off of my chest...

After everything with my best friend, I feel like sexually I don't want to trust anyone again. I'm trying to learn to trust the current guy, and we flirt and talk a little dirty, but beyond that I can't seem to usher myself to step outside of the little box I've stuffed myself into. And at the current point in time, I don't need to. But what happens when the day comes that I need to?

I wish I hadn't had sex. I just wanted to do it right. I was so serious when I said that I would've been happy with just one man to share myself with. To me sex was the ultimate gift, the ultimate sacrifice. I was giving to one man what I could never take back, my virginity. I made love to him, shared with him my trust, my passion, my creativity.

Making love was like being thrust into a sea of liquid fire that devoured me. It was taking my heart out of my body and sharing it between me and a man. Making love was so intense, so close, so extreme. It was what I had always wanted. To create that full, universal love and bond with someone on a level I had never before, and never wanted to again with anyone else.

And it was ruined, thrown in my face. We never even dated. After our vacation, he went home, leaving me with the haunting memories of his fingers on my body, of his breath on my neck, of his lips on my shoulder. Those haunting memories which eat me alive some nights, and make me wonder if I ever want to have sex again. Sex caused me so much pain with him, it caused me to be this way. To feel unsure of if I ever want to give myself to someone again. I can joke, and be a pervert, and do and say as I please... But it doesn't change the scars still in place.

Is sex just sex to the rest of the world? Am I the only one who still thinks it has a heart-felt meaning to it? That it is deeper than just a physical connection of bodies? I had felt like, as we made love, like our souls were melding together. I guess I was wrong... And I wonder if I ever want to share with someone my heart and soul on that level of being availed with no lies or hidden truths or shields to defend myself. 

I hope that Jeremy is right. I don't want to get betrayed again. I don't want to love someone, and share my everything with them only to have it crash and burn. I don't know how I survived it last time, but I don't think I'll survive it again. I don't want to bond with someone like that ever again unless I can make it so that that person is the last person I will ever share that bond with... Someone I can share that bond with for the rest of my life, and no one else...

I just want one person to love and trust, one person to love me and one person to love for all time. 

-Eternity

Fire Bomb

I look back, and realize that my life has never made slow changes. Every time a change happens, it's sudden and sharp. It happens in an instant, I never have time to come down. Hell, if I did have time to recover, I wouldn't know what to do with it.

This past summer, I made two of my greatest friends, though one of them turned out to be not as good for me as I had thought. In the beginning of the summer I had a choice of two men. There was one, one who was pretty awesome. He was hyper, talkative, fun, and a musician- a cute guy, but very loving and very sweet. Protective too, which was nice. Then the other one I had been talking to just a little longer, and had known off and on for about a year beforehand. He was more methodical, quiet, calm, and gentle to talk to. After my ex, and after everything, I picked man number two, and man number one became my best friend.

Mr. 1 was always good to me, and he fell in love with me. I won't lie, for a while I loved him too, but the closer me and Mr. 2 got, the more I was able to shield myself from Mr. 1. But Mr. 1 was always wonderful to me. He was my friend, he checked on me when no one else would. He would take time out of his day to make me smile, to make me happy when I was feeling lost or insecure. Eventually though, he found someone. Her name I will not reveal,  but she was a beautiful musician, just like him. And he went out on a wild limb to invite her to move across the country with him after their first date. She agreed, and they were happily ever after...

Kind of.

It came to a point that Mr. 1's woman was afraid of me because she knew that he had strong feelings for me, and that should the chance ever come, that she could lose him to me. And I knew it too, but I also knew that he was my best friend, and that no matter what, I didn't want to lose him. I might not have been the greatest friend, but it came to a point where I just broke the bridge myself, and fell into the icy stream beneath without ever reaching the other end where he was.

When Mr. 2 and I came to the realization that nothing was going to become of us, I crashed and burned hard. I had given my virginity to someone who could likely not even care. I mean, he says he did, and that it meant the world to him, and I understand that. I think one day he will look back and feel an ache in his chest where there will always be the spot meant to be filled by me. Well, I went horribly downward. The most terrible thing was I was pretending for months that there was a commitment secretly between us, that for some hidden reason, he felt just as compelled to be loyal to me as I had felt to be devotedly loyal to him. When I found out that he wanted to maintain emotional ties and our "flirting" while having sex with others to satiate our physical needs, I think I died. And in my burning destruction, in the midst of that fire bomb, I could only think of one person who I could confide my pain into. And that was Mr. 1.

I massively began to text him. The lonesome devoured me whole. I needed someone, someone to tell me it was okay. Because that night, I stood at my window with both panes open, feeling the wind and knowing that I just had to step out and start walking. That was the emotion that rode hard into my being. The desire to escape. To Vagabond, to take on a new name and be someone else for the rest of my life. To lead a wandering life, where I could accept that no love would ever last with me.

Soon, I had two e-mails. And I checked them. Mr. 1's girlfriend told me to stop talking to him, that I was a bad friend, and that this was just a speed bump in my life. No, she couldn't understand it even if she tried. I had been sexually abused starting at the age of 4, my first case of sexual abuse from my older step brother at the time who was a teen. Then again, two times in middle school, and then a last time in high school. I was afraid to just give myself away. I had created an uncanny ability to not give out my physical trust. To be abstinent, to not feel any desire for men or women alike. I felt only the desire to be loved, emotionally, and that when a man loved me enough, that one day he would unleash my passions with it all. Well, I thought Mr. 2 was it. He made me feel so safe, so solid and strong. He made me feel beautiful after a life of being made to feel as if I were the farthest thing from it. After all I had been through, on the first day of meeting Mr. 2 in person, I made love to him; made love for the first time in my life. I never got quite used to sex before our vacation was over, but it came to be that I knew I had given myself to a man, and I would never see that man again. I would never feel his arms around me, never feel that kiss. Never feel his fingers touch me, never feel his body against mine. I would never fall asleep next to his figure again. I would never hold his hand again. I would never run my fingers through his hair. I would never get to cradle him against my chest and smile down at him as we watched TV. I would never get to rest my hand on his leg as he drove. Those chances, those experiences, they were all just memories now, and I couldn't decide if I even wanted them anymore or not. I would've almost preferred to give them up as I would to go back in time and undo it all. And in the end, Mr. 1's woman had contacted me, and I had no idea it would be the last time I'd ever get a message from his e-mail or phone again.

I never heard from him again. The forum board where he and I were, his account suddenly started showing up as "Guest". He'd deleted it. He'd never messaged me back. I never got to say goodbye. I had fucked up again, I had now run off both the man I had wanted, and the best friend I could have ever had. I was totally alone. I finally sent him an e-mail, one titled "One Last Thing, Before I Go". I didn't expect a response, and I wonder if it would've been better if I had never gotten one.

But a few days later, yesterday to be exact, I got a response. It simply read "I got it." and I couldn't tell what those three, simple words meant. Were they meant sarcastically, as in telling me my point got through, as in that he understood I was in pain, but that I was a fool and I'd never have my chance to be his friend again? Or did it correspond with my second sentence of the whole letter, the one that read "I don't know if you'll ever get this"? Was he just giving me the smallest thing he could without being found or spotted? Was his girlfriend so obsessively looking out for him now that she had him to the point where he could no longer contact me? Had she made the decision her or me to him?

Will I ever hear from Mr. 1 again?

I told him one day, when he becomes famous for his amazing musical talents, that I hope I hear his name and I can smile and know that I had faith in him when not many else did. And to know that he is happy, it would make me happy.

Nick, if you can hear me. I hope you have an amazing life. You were the best friend to me. I will miss you always. . .

As for Mr. 2... We still talk. It's kind of slow conversation, a little awkward to me. It's hard not to find it awkward. I mean, look what it all boiled down to... A man who had no faith in love, and a woman who blindly put all of her faith into love. Logically led versus the illogically devoted. I miss my friend in him too, he still gave me good memories when I look back. And some say it's better to have loved and lost than to have not loved at all. I'm still kind of debating on that one, but I know that I'll be finding out how well that lesson applies soon. While I'm moving on well, I am still indecisive on my past. Everything that happened, was it even a lesson to be learned, or did I just get hurt straight forward for once, where there was nothing to be gained but pain? Either way...

I'm talking to someone now, and though I thought I'd never put my faith in another man again, at least not for months and months, I've got faith for him. Maybe my well of faith only appears to have an end. Maybe it is truly endless after all. Regardless, this guy... I see myself falling for him, and I already am. He's not like the others. He's not a total sloth who's so egotistical that I would be just a side project to him. And he's not so conceited and logical that I am but a little pillar of feel-good and a physical something to recall with a smile on his face. He's reasonable, and so sweet. His pet names for me make me smile, and whether he knows it or not, the little things he does for me make me feel so amazingly great. I haven't felt this good in a long time. Jeremy's just all around really good. And to think, I thought the good men were gone missing. Well, I hope I really found one this time, and I've got a kind of gut feeling that perhaps this time, perhaps, I have. 

In the end, the pain still lingers from losing my two friends- one who had my heart, and one who had my soul. And having all of that torn out of me, I guess I was in the best semi-recovering shape when Jeremy found me. And now, I guess, he's tending to the wounds that others have left upon me. And I can't help but feel pretty good and lucky to have found myself falling for this guy. I really hope it works out.

It's beginning all over again. From scratch. Love, friendship, and life. I will try my best to go about it right this time... I'll try my best...

-Eternity

Chronicling the Heart

Just for your casual knowledge, this blog is going to be a mixture of my more serious thoughts versus a lot of my romantic and intimate things. So, here is obviously one of the latter. 

First off, let me just kind of fill in the space before this current moment in my life. I'll do it very vaguely because I'll most likely flesh out more details as I go along in the future. In the past two years I have been through a total of about four men. Each one hurt me, somehow. The first was a good friend who I dated for almost six months before he ended it on the note of his life needing priority. Later I learned other reasons, and yet one day I still forgave him as well as myself. The next fooled me into a relationship only to throw it in my face after gaining what he wanted of me (though thankfully I was not foolish enough to give him my virginity at the time). That felt pretty crappy, having something imaginary and nice thrown in my face and ripped up to unveil the truth beneath it. The next was a man who eventually moved to live with me, and the relationship turned horribly wrong with fighting, arguments, and what felt like total obliteration of hope. Then I started talking to an old friend over the summer, met him at the end of summer, and made the foolish stand to give him my virginity because I thought we had something. Come to find he never asked me out, thought of us as only friends "in love", and didn't want to- or couldn't for his own personal reasons- turn it into more.

At my current point in life I'm about to finally start simple college. I'm not going for the partying or the freedom, I really just want the education. I'm not a partying girl, I don't like all that hype crap about going wild. Get in, get out, and start life. I want to get my education, get a good job, a companion for my life, and to settle down and enjoy things like that. I'm not a rambling woman, I don't want the promiscuous list of men I've slept with. I want a small few, and to know that hopefully it only takes a small few or one or two before I find the one I'm meant to spend my life with. 

I had reached a point recently where I had dropped to perhaps my lowest low. There was something about happily giving someone my trust and virginity, my heart and having it thrown back at me that was what felt like the final straw that broke me. I had ushered out more than I ever had. I gave into him, gave into everything and felt safe. Safety means nothing I see, and that love to some people is not as strong as love to myself. It never became any more than just our friendship. It was just that for a long time we said we loved each other, though I am thinking almost that those words were hollow without the actions to back them up. The actions of commitment, of honesty and keeping trust safe. When you love someone, don't you claim them? Don't you want just one, instead of many? I don't want to be someone's emotional pillar while they achieve physical bliss via whatever outside source they please. I don't care if you can separate emotion from physical need, because I can't. When I love someone, I have a passion for that person that makes me fight for them as if the world depended on it. And when I love someone, I can give myself to them. When I truly truly love someone. And I have only had that happen one real time before. And it was kind of just thrown back in my face. If I would've known that it would've come to a point of wanting to sleep with others while emotionally latched onto each other, I wouldn't have gone as far as sex. Because if I gave my virginity to you, I think it means I don't really want sex with others. I see now I was highly misunderstood.

I've moved on, with the sharp pain and the new light. I had no choice, but I had no time either. No time to build up my walls. I was so tired and I wanted to lay out my defenses and think about it all before I brought them back up. It was in my search for a friend or someone to confide in that I ended up stumbling upon my current circumstance.

His name is Jeremy, and he's a great guy. He's realer than most guys, and so far I have seen no signs of wickedness in him. Fun, a bit geeky, talkative, interesting, and a little bit pervy which matches my humor dead on. But deeper, he's kind, mature, romantic, sensual, trustworthy, intelligent, and perhaps just as fractured as I am. If I can say anything, it is that if he is as good to me as he seems to be, this man will have the one woman who would never betray his trust in her, never find a reason to hurt the loyalty existent in a relationship. Someone who would protect him and stand by him til the ends of time itself. I've told many a man this, and no man finds the offer pleasing enough.

We talk a lot, and it's only been a fairly short term of talking (considering it in "days", as for hours, we've talked countlessly- something that would have taken months to achieve in both normal talking span as well as far as knowing each other). At first I thought it was cute that he liked me, and seemed interested in me. I tried to deny myself falling for this guy, but damn if I'm a sucker. Now I look forward to hearing his voice, I feel excited when I think of getting to see him. And when we talk, I can't stop smiling. 

So far, it seems all and well. I'm hoping things go well, for once I'd like to do something right. For once I'd also like to feel assured that maybe my search for someone to love for good is nearing an end. 

Oh well, we'll find out, won't we? 

-Eternity