Thursday, August 11, 2011

And I know that it's not just you.

Part I:

This is an account of my past, present and [possibly] future thoughts, feelings and emotions about my own life. How I feel about events, people and the way that we react.

Certain areas of this blog may indeed hurt certain feelings, but I promise that the angst is gone. I must only jot the words down so that I can remember my own emotion.

And how I am okay with it all in the end.




Is this how you treat your friends?

I just remembered about how one of my old co-workers shaved her head in my honour after I left. She's so sweet. She has been through so much. Seems so fearful. I hope that she obtains the life that she deserves, completely.

I've lost fourteen pounds in two months with anorexia! Call to set up your appointment for consultation today and learn how you can lose too!
You know, I really do not enjoy losing weight to a continuous stressful, sinking feeling. On the other hand, though, it's nice to be back to my normal self.

"Because it has to be so lonely to be the only one that's holy."

I wrote a very important letter and he didn't even read it. He promised. He promised a lot of things, though.
"If I could make the same mistake again, I wouldn't change a single thing my friend. Turning back the time will do no good, I'd do it all again if I could."
I just don't understand. How can best friends become so detached?
A part of me is saying that I liked you more when I didn't know you well at all.
Another part of me is hoping that you will understand and actually be my best friend again.
I just cannot get over the concept that he didn't read my letter, though. He didn't even try. That hurts. That was quite possibly the most positive letter, too. I'm broken because I didn't want things to get this way. I'm broken because I watched myself fall from him as he didn't care.
And my fall from grace is a continuum.
I do not believe that he has cared in a long time, though.
It's this thing that I have. A pretty face. Once that is obtained, why try?
I just want someone without the mentality of seeing me as something to bring around. Something to keep company. I make people feel alive and new, because I guess that is just what happens (and for some reason, they then become depressed, want to kill themselves and/or take time off of whatever important thing that they are doing at the time; but really, it's not like I mean it). Then, I either do not feel fitting to them, or I do. Wanting to be with the person, or not. Either way, I tend to end up being avoided and alienated. Disrespected.
For once, I want to be romanced. I don't want to feel like a blow-up doll.
And I wonder if there are any other girls who feel that way. Like intimacy does not even exist. I don't want to feel like I'm in a Frat house every time I want that connection. Life gets boring.
Jesus Christ. To me, forms of writing are so very important. Who would not read a letter?! Especially after a break-up. That pissed me off incredibly. That made me take back the entire last chunk of my writing.

It was my decision. It still bothers me that he just shows no emotion.
In my point of view, it's like he wants nothing. No one. Just vacancy. Or to be disloyal and unfaithful.
That breach of trust just can never be gained back. At least not soon.
And I tried. I tried so hard. For months. There is just nothing left for me to give.

And I see this all of the time. And it pisses me off. Women who would do anything for the boy that she is with. He does something bloody ridiculous, and we are supposed to look over every harsh action. They are "mistakes." We all make mistakes, yes, but there is another person's love involved. Not to mention the amount of self worth that plummets downward.

"Here comes the sadness that I miss so much, that lonely aching comes from every touch. I've grown accustomed to the greys and blacks, because they're always coming back."

A part of me a little while ago felt as this entire relationship try was a waste of time. A bad idea. A mistake in its own. But it's not. I have grown as a person. I have changed my life. Everything is beautiful. And hopefully all of my friendships will thrive, especially the one that seems ruined now.

And I am honestly okay right now. I am actually far more than okay. I have been living a beautiful life for the past week and a half. I don't have to be the only person who tries anymore. I gave up and chose happiness.
"Pain is a signal that you must change something in your life."
This is what I need right now, because otherwise, I'm going simply mad.
I just wanted things to go back to normal. Instead, I was ignored and forgotten. There's this thing called "absolute bullshit" and it is marked in all over your face.

I feel beautiful and wanted now. Liberating, yeah. I have decided to flood myself with good people. The people who have been good to me, even despite some minor mishaps.

My cat Rocky died a few weeks ago. I miss him incredibly. His silly, scratchy meows. His super soft fur being smushed into my face because he headbutts me. Being randomly woken up because a large cat has just jumped onto my legs to cuddle, or is nibbling on my ears at four in the morning for me to get him food. It's like all of my little things have been shut down. I've had him since I was six.
And my mother got two kittens the other day. This makes me happy and furious at the same time. I love the fact that I get to see new life and new minds. I am aggravated that my cat was directly replaced. The most important being to myself. I believe that is disgusting. There are kittens here for all of the wrong reasons. As future "show cats" (UGH), as a replacement, to fill a "void."
A place in my heart is still filled.

But with my little Rocky passing, I found myself with a whole line-up of revelations. So many aspects of my life. So much that I deserve. So much that I need.

I'm okay with things not going the way that I plan.

I have so much to talk about, but it's six in the morning and I haven't slept yet. My insomnia has been skyrocket lately. Maybe I'll post something else in a few days or weeks.

No grudges. No lies. No aching. Just, life.



"This song will become the anthem of your underground. You're two floors down getting high in the back room. If I flooded out your house do you think you'd make it out? Or would you burn up before the water filled your lungs? And at your funeral I will sing the requiem."

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