Monday, May 28, 2007
The End of School Blahs
I'm afraid. I feel myself floundering in this world. I'm sick of high school, sick of this place, sick of my family and their constant nagging and everything. My house is like a battle zone these days. Not a day goes by where someone doesn't get annoyed and storm off, or decide to give everyone else the silent treatment, and I'm so fucking sick of it. I just want to get away from it. High school is getting so old and its sooooo incredibly hard to drag myself out of bed to get there in the morning. It just doesn't seem worth it. I'm afraid I'm going to fail something and be stuck here for another semester, but I just can't bring myself to care anymore. I have something like 3 weeks left of my high school career and I can't wait for it to be over.
Wednesday, May 23, 2007
Unsettled
More often than not, I sit down to write these with something in mind. This time I can't really say that. This time its more like a general feeling. Or really, a jumble of feelings. ~I swing between happiness and misery.~ It's true. Maybe not to that extent, but it is true. I can be perfectly upbeat and happy one moment, then depressed and moody the next. This is true throughout the week, day, and even posts. Just watch.
Of Friends and Foes
I feel bad. In starting and subsequently screwing up all this stuff with Craig, I've hurt another friend's relationship with him. And while its not entirely my fault, she did, after all, make her own decision to get involved in the situation, were it not for me, they would still be as good friends as they were before, and he wouldn't ignore/avoid/stay away from her as he does me. It sucks, because its not my fault but it is and we both know it. Were the roles reversed, I'd be irritated, and she has every right to be.
Of Foes and....Foes?
Speaking of Craig, I really don't know anything. (Did I ever?) Do I want to be his friend? Yes. Do I miss having him as a close friend? Yes. Do I still enjoy talking to him? Yes. Am I still frustrated with him and the way he's not opening up like he used to? Absolutely. Do I still like him? A part of me does, but its a very small part now. I chalk it up to propinquity and limerence. When the former died, so did most of the latter.
I keep thinking about one of my last posts. I said something to the effect of "This isn't love, I know it isn't, and yet its more intense than just a crush." It felt wrong when I wrote it, and it still feels wrong now. Every relationship I've had since Troy has felt not quite right and I have a theory as to why. Relationships have to start somewhere. They generally start at a friendship stage and move on from there. My problem is that I started dating Robert in June 2005. That went until April 2006 when I started dating Troy (there was a little bit of overlap) and I dated Troy until October 2006. So for 17 months, I never had to start a brand new relationship out of thin air. I'd forgotten what it was like to start from nothing. All I knew, all I could remember, was the intensity and passion of love, or at least the closest thing to love that I know. Anything that didn't have that deep emotional bond or the passion seemed foreign. I'm slowly getting over that, but I'm finding that I have serious commitment issues that I never used to have. Offering or accepting the offer of something long-term since October has been really hard for me. I can't even begin to express how terrifying it is to me to put myself out there and offer my heart. I haven't done it often in the last 6 months, possibly because its scary as all hell, but I have done it. And why shouldn't I be afraid? There's a lot of heartbreak in the world. There's always been a lot of heartbreak in my world. But ~Nunc scio quid sit amor~ There's a post in a livejournal account that I kept awhile ago that I'd like to copy here. I have no real reason for it, other than feeling like it. See this is my slipping into my moody and depressed stage right now, and I'd like to share my old post possibly to show you just how depressed I can go. Its pretty low.
I really hate myself sometimes. I have all these horrible qualities that nobody seems to realize but me. I say I understand but I don't. I say I forgive, but I hold grudges. I manipulate people to get my way, most often hurting them in the process. I'm not worthy of the life I have. The only thing I deserve is all this pain. I pretend to be tough, I pretend to be weak. It's all just a facade. Sometimes it's for other people, but most often it's to fool myself. To keep the moments of shining realization to a bare minimum. The moments where something cracks, and I realize that I am nothing. I have no real dreams or ambitions, I have no friends, I have no worldly possessions that I overly cherish. The only thing I have is my boyfriend, and every day I wonder how he can stand to be with me. How he can be with me and not see what a fake I am. What a coward I am. I know he's sick, and in pain, and tired, but goddamnit if I didn't work for two weeks to plan that party and then end up having no time with him. But this is exactly what I mean. I'm a selfish, conniving, little bitch, and I would give anything for the world to judge me based on who I am and not who I pretend to be. I fucking hate myself. Outwardly I blame my flaws on the life I've lived. Years of being terrified and disgusted with my dad over his drinking. Almost four years now of cutting, and hiding it, and revealing it, and trying to stop it, something I've still yet to accomplish completely because I've been fucking dying to do it the past few days. And why the fuck doesn't it bother Troy? Ever person I've told has been adament that I quit. Why then does Troy not seem to care at all? He's supposed to be my protector, or if nothing else, my friend. I would have killed myself by now if I weren't so chicken shit. I've dreamt about it. Right down to the tingling sensation before the pain in my hands. I don't know how to change who I am. I blame who I am on Robert, and the stress of moving out of my house, the sudden responsibility, the constant fear of arguments, of being kicked out, of cutting, of all the emotional warfare that went on while I was there. It's easy to see how Robert became suicidal. That place could drive anyone to kill themselves. Even so, I miss it so much sometimes. Not while I lived there, but earlier. Last summer. I was as unhappy as ever at home, and Robert was my salvation. His house became my sanctuary. Cleaning the basement with him during those first few weeks, and how, even then, we were planning to have me move in. That day cemented our relationship and made me see him as my protector. I fought with my parents far more than usual after that, knowing I could push boundaries, that I had somewhere else to go. I remember one day specifically. I ran out of the house in early November, in nothing but jeans and a too-small sweatshirt. My wrists and my stomach were exposed, I was freezing. I met Robert in the Wally's parking lot. He took me home to get a change of clothes. I was to spend the night at his house. I went inside, got my things and tried to leave. My mom stood in front of the door and wouldn't move. I ran through to the back, and had to walk all around the block to meet Robert again. When I got to his house I was aching. I don't know if it was from being huddled against the cold, or the heavy bag on my back, or from the adrenaline that had been coursing through my body that was starting to slow down. A few hours later I found a sobbing message my mom had left on my cell phone, begging me to come back home. It should have ended that night, but it didn't. A few weeks later I moved in with him, and even though at the time I denied it, I see now that it was out of desire to be closer to him, and not desire to leave my home that made me do it. It was only a couple weeks after we had first had sex, and I think that had a lot more to do with it than I give credit. To share that with someone, especially to give up one's virginity, it's a scary but exhilerating experience. It's the biggest adult decision you can make, apart from getting married or buying a house, both of which I had planned with Robert. We even had a tentative date when we would become engaged (he had planned to become valedictorian when he graduated next year [not knowing he would end up graduating this year] and was going to give his speech, and at the end ask me to come on stage while he proposed) and we had already chosen a house we loved and had mock budgeted for it. We planned to get an apartment around christmas this year, and would spend the rest of our lives together. It was as fairy tale as real life could be. And then something shifted. For all I know it was entirely my fault. I just noticed one day that we seemed to fight more than anything else. Things we used to talk out got pushed under the rug. Decisions we used to make together were made based on assumptions or the wants of just one side. Everything became about being physical. Sex became the cure-all. We had an issue, we talked about it, nothing would be resolved, and then we'd have sex. It was so easy to pretend that it was make up sex, and everything was made up. I knew it never was. Nothing was ever resolved between us. We couldn't even make out with clothes starting to come off. Even when I had my period I'd have to repeatedly move his hands away from that area. I didn't like it. I became bitter about being physical with him. Somehow I always felt dirty afterwards. Like I was using him to get what I wanted. My own morose thoughts did nothing to change my mind. I began to hate the person I was with him. I started cutting again, worse than I had before. Using exacto knives and razor blades where before I had only used broken bobby pins or sharp earings. He knew, and to get me to stop he threatened to cut whenever I did. I hated him for that but I was too scared to let anyone else become addicted to it like I had. I loved him too much to see him hurt. His plan backfired though. While I didn't want him to be hurt, I couldn't stop. And what's more is I didn't want to quit for him (by this time I was seeing his faults and falling rapidly out of love), I wanted to quit for myself. Cutting is a completely solo and selfish act. And I needed to know that I had the strength to quit on my own, for me, and not because I was being threatened into it. I heard once that cutters who are faced with ultimatems generally don't stop cutting, they just find better ways to hide it. And that's what I did. I have since stopped actively cutting, though I still feel that urge fairly often. But the important part is that I did it for me, and not for him. I realize that this post started out on a completely different topic and that it's very very very long, but I just couldn't stop writing. It felt so good to get it out. I think someday I might write some of this down. Sort of as a personal memoir, to show to myself that things always get better. For now, it's 12:45 am and I think I'm going to bed.
I wrote that on August 3rd, 2006. I guess I just want people to know who I am. I'm not perfect, not even close, and I have been through some tough shit.
Starlight, Starbright...
Its 11:11 pm right now. I usually make a wish. Usually my wish is about whatever guy I happen to be wrapped up in at that moment. It hasn't been lately, even though it could be. Lately my wish has been to let me find my true love, or something close, when I'm really for it, even if that isn't right now. It's not that I have that much faith in God or fate or any kind of higher power. Its more about acknowledging to myself that at this point in my life, I'm not ready to find that person, even if he is in my life right now. I'm changing right now. ~Non sum qualis eram~ I know that. I won't be stable for some time. But who really wants stability anyway? I look at my cousin and see how happy he is with his fiancee. They're a perfect match and they have that kind of comfortable chemistry. I would kill for that. I love being in love. The best feeling in the world is knowing someone loves you. I haven't known that in over 6 months. I haven't known that since Troy came back from England. At one point he did. So did Robert. That would have been before he called me "just an opportunity". Love is so relative. When I was in the 3rd grade I thought I was in love. I barely talked to the guy. That changed again in grade 6 with my first kiss, and again in grade 7, and 8, etc. I've always thought I was in love. Who knows? Maybe I was. But as I grew and matured and became more serious, I've realized that love isn't just about wanting to be near the person, and liking them. Love is so much more. I thought I was in love with Robert. I enjoyed his company, being physical with him, felt all sorts of powerful emotions towards him. But I never respected him. A wise person once asked: Can you love someone without respecting them? I thought about it, but I keep coming back to this: No. You can't truly love anyone, love all of them, without respecting them. I respected Troy. I looked up to him, thought he was a good person, and in my mind I loved him. But who the hell knows anymore? I have the capacity to love anyone. I am a caring person and I can't not love. Perhaps that's my downfall.
Back to the Future?
Sometimes we have a take a step backwards to see just how many steps forward we've taken. I want to go away for university but I'm afraid. I'm really afraid. I wanted to talk about my doubts and fears and uncertainties, but I don't have much time left. Suffice it to say that the more I think about it, the more torn I am. I'm looking forward to the freedom and the fresh start, but I'm afraid of leaving everyone I care about behind. The closer I get to September, the more I realize how much I love the people around me and all the opportunities I've missed because I never said what I really wanted to. It sucks.
A few final notes;
I know youve had it up to there with all my chaos and confusion/
I am living a delusion/
and I do not give a damn...
Look into my heart and tell me I am a complete disaster/
Wasnt that what you were after/
Always thought it was
-Sorry For Myself, Jann Arden
There's a little poem I've loved for a long time but never really knew the origins of until today. I found it randomly and discovered that the wording of the one I know is a little different from the original, but its essentially the same thing:
~odi et amo quare id faciam fortasse requiris / nescio sed fieri sentio et excrucior~
meaning:
~I hate and I love. Why do I do this, you perhaps ask. / I do not know, but I feel it happening and am tormented.~
Something to think about.
-Este
Of Friends and Foes
I feel bad. In starting and subsequently screwing up all this stuff with Craig, I've hurt another friend's relationship with him. And while its not entirely my fault, she did, after all, make her own decision to get involved in the situation, were it not for me, they would still be as good friends as they were before, and he wouldn't ignore/avoid/stay away from her as he does me. It sucks, because its not my fault but it is and we both know it. Were the roles reversed, I'd be irritated, and she has every right to be.
Of Foes and....Foes?
Speaking of Craig, I really don't know anything. (Did I ever?) Do I want to be his friend? Yes. Do I miss having him as a close friend? Yes. Do I still enjoy talking to him? Yes. Am I still frustrated with him and the way he's not opening up like he used to? Absolutely. Do I still like him? A part of me does, but its a very small part now. I chalk it up to propinquity and limerence. When the former died, so did most of the latter.
I keep thinking about one of my last posts. I said something to the effect of "This isn't love, I know it isn't, and yet its more intense than just a crush." It felt wrong when I wrote it, and it still feels wrong now. Every relationship I've had since Troy has felt not quite right and I have a theory as to why. Relationships have to start somewhere. They generally start at a friendship stage and move on from there. My problem is that I started dating Robert in June 2005. That went until April 2006 when I started dating Troy (there was a little bit of overlap) and I dated Troy until October 2006. So for 17 months, I never had to start a brand new relationship out of thin air. I'd forgotten what it was like to start from nothing. All I knew, all I could remember, was the intensity and passion of love, or at least the closest thing to love that I know. Anything that didn't have that deep emotional bond or the passion seemed foreign. I'm slowly getting over that, but I'm finding that I have serious commitment issues that I never used to have. Offering or accepting the offer of something long-term since October has been really hard for me. I can't even begin to express how terrifying it is to me to put myself out there and offer my heart. I haven't done it often in the last 6 months, possibly because its scary as all hell, but I have done it. And why shouldn't I be afraid? There's a lot of heartbreak in the world. There's always been a lot of heartbreak in my world. But ~Nunc scio quid sit amor~ There's a post in a livejournal account that I kept awhile ago that I'd like to copy here. I have no real reason for it, other than feeling like it. See this is my slipping into my moody and depressed stage right now, and I'd like to share my old post possibly to show you just how depressed I can go. Its pretty low.
I really hate myself sometimes. I have all these horrible qualities that nobody seems to realize but me. I say I understand but I don't. I say I forgive, but I hold grudges. I manipulate people to get my way, most often hurting them in the process. I'm not worthy of the life I have. The only thing I deserve is all this pain. I pretend to be tough, I pretend to be weak. It's all just a facade. Sometimes it's for other people, but most often it's to fool myself. To keep the moments of shining realization to a bare minimum. The moments where something cracks, and I realize that I am nothing. I have no real dreams or ambitions, I have no friends, I have no worldly possessions that I overly cherish. The only thing I have is my boyfriend, and every day I wonder how he can stand to be with me. How he can be with me and not see what a fake I am. What a coward I am. I know he's sick, and in pain, and tired, but goddamnit if I didn't work for two weeks to plan that party and then end up having no time with him. But this is exactly what I mean. I'm a selfish, conniving, little bitch, and I would give anything for the world to judge me based on who I am and not who I pretend to be. I fucking hate myself. Outwardly I blame my flaws on the life I've lived. Years of being terrified and disgusted with my dad over his drinking. Almost four years now of cutting, and hiding it, and revealing it, and trying to stop it, something I've still yet to accomplish completely because I've been fucking dying to do it the past few days. And why the fuck doesn't it bother Troy? Ever person I've told has been adament that I quit. Why then does Troy not seem to care at all? He's supposed to be my protector, or if nothing else, my friend. I would have killed myself by now if I weren't so chicken shit. I've dreamt about it. Right down to the tingling sensation before the pain in my hands. I don't know how to change who I am. I blame who I am on Robert, and the stress of moving out of my house, the sudden responsibility, the constant fear of arguments, of being kicked out, of cutting, of all the emotional warfare that went on while I was there. It's easy to see how Robert became suicidal. That place could drive anyone to kill themselves. Even so, I miss it so much sometimes. Not while I lived there, but earlier. Last summer. I was as unhappy as ever at home, and Robert was my salvation. His house became my sanctuary. Cleaning the basement with him during those first few weeks, and how, even then, we were planning to have me move in. That day cemented our relationship and made me see him as my protector. I fought with my parents far more than usual after that, knowing I could push boundaries, that I had somewhere else to go. I remember one day specifically. I ran out of the house in early November, in nothing but jeans and a too-small sweatshirt. My wrists and my stomach were exposed, I was freezing. I met Robert in the Wally's parking lot. He took me home to get a change of clothes. I was to spend the night at his house. I went inside, got my things and tried to leave. My mom stood in front of the door and wouldn't move. I ran through to the back, and had to walk all around the block to meet Robert again. When I got to his house I was aching. I don't know if it was from being huddled against the cold, or the heavy bag on my back, or from the adrenaline that had been coursing through my body that was starting to slow down. A few hours later I found a sobbing message my mom had left on my cell phone, begging me to come back home. It should have ended that night, but it didn't. A few weeks later I moved in with him, and even though at the time I denied it, I see now that it was out of desire to be closer to him, and not desire to leave my home that made me do it. It was only a couple weeks after we had first had sex, and I think that had a lot more to do with it than I give credit. To share that with someone, especially to give up one's virginity, it's a scary but exhilerating experience. It's the biggest adult decision you can make, apart from getting married or buying a house, both of which I had planned with Robert. We even had a tentative date when we would become engaged (he had planned to become valedictorian when he graduated next year [not knowing he would end up graduating this year] and was going to give his speech, and at the end ask me to come on stage while he proposed) and we had already chosen a house we loved and had mock budgeted for it. We planned to get an apartment around christmas this year, and would spend the rest of our lives together. It was as fairy tale as real life could be. And then something shifted. For all I know it was entirely my fault. I just noticed one day that we seemed to fight more than anything else. Things we used to talk out got pushed under the rug. Decisions we used to make together were made based on assumptions or the wants of just one side. Everything became about being physical. Sex became the cure-all. We had an issue, we talked about it, nothing would be resolved, and then we'd have sex. It was so easy to pretend that it was make up sex, and everything was made up. I knew it never was. Nothing was ever resolved between us. We couldn't even make out with clothes starting to come off. Even when I had my period I'd have to repeatedly move his hands away from that area. I didn't like it. I became bitter about being physical with him. Somehow I always felt dirty afterwards. Like I was using him to get what I wanted. My own morose thoughts did nothing to change my mind. I began to hate the person I was with him. I started cutting again, worse than I had before. Using exacto knives and razor blades where before I had only used broken bobby pins or sharp earings. He knew, and to get me to stop he threatened to cut whenever I did. I hated him for that but I was too scared to let anyone else become addicted to it like I had. I loved him too much to see him hurt. His plan backfired though. While I didn't want him to be hurt, I couldn't stop. And what's more is I didn't want to quit for him (by this time I was seeing his faults and falling rapidly out of love), I wanted to quit for myself. Cutting is a completely solo and selfish act. And I needed to know that I had the strength to quit on my own, for me, and not because I was being threatened into it. I heard once that cutters who are faced with ultimatems generally don't stop cutting, they just find better ways to hide it. And that's what I did. I have since stopped actively cutting, though I still feel that urge fairly often. But the important part is that I did it for me, and not for him. I realize that this post started out on a completely different topic and that it's very very very long, but I just couldn't stop writing. It felt so good to get it out. I think someday I might write some of this down. Sort of as a personal memoir, to show to myself that things always get better. For now, it's 12:45 am and I think I'm going to bed.
I wrote that on August 3rd, 2006. I guess I just want people to know who I am. I'm not perfect, not even close, and I have been through some tough shit.
Starlight, Starbright...
Its 11:11 pm right now. I usually make a wish. Usually my wish is about whatever guy I happen to be wrapped up in at that moment. It hasn't been lately, even though it could be. Lately my wish has been to let me find my true love, or something close, when I'm really for it, even if that isn't right now. It's not that I have that much faith in God or fate or any kind of higher power. Its more about acknowledging to myself that at this point in my life, I'm not ready to find that person, even if he is in my life right now. I'm changing right now. ~Non sum qualis eram~ I know that. I won't be stable for some time. But who really wants stability anyway? I look at my cousin and see how happy he is with his fiancee. They're a perfect match and they have that kind of comfortable chemistry. I would kill for that. I love being in love. The best feeling in the world is knowing someone loves you. I haven't known that in over 6 months. I haven't known that since Troy came back from England. At one point he did. So did Robert. That would have been before he called me "just an opportunity". Love is so relative. When I was in the 3rd grade I thought I was in love. I barely talked to the guy. That changed again in grade 6 with my first kiss, and again in grade 7, and 8, etc. I've always thought I was in love. Who knows? Maybe I was. But as I grew and matured and became more serious, I've realized that love isn't just about wanting to be near the person, and liking them. Love is so much more. I thought I was in love with Robert. I enjoyed his company, being physical with him, felt all sorts of powerful emotions towards him. But I never respected him. A wise person once asked: Can you love someone without respecting them? I thought about it, but I keep coming back to this: No. You can't truly love anyone, love all of them, without respecting them. I respected Troy. I looked up to him, thought he was a good person, and in my mind I loved him. But who the hell knows anymore? I have the capacity to love anyone. I am a caring person and I can't not love. Perhaps that's my downfall.
Back to the Future?
Sometimes we have a take a step backwards to see just how many steps forward we've taken. I want to go away for university but I'm afraid. I'm really afraid. I wanted to talk about my doubts and fears and uncertainties, but I don't have much time left. Suffice it to say that the more I think about it, the more torn I am. I'm looking forward to the freedom and the fresh start, but I'm afraid of leaving everyone I care about behind. The closer I get to September, the more I realize how much I love the people around me and all the opportunities I've missed because I never said what I really wanted to. It sucks.
A few final notes;
I know youve had it up to there with all my chaos and confusion/
I am living a delusion/
and I do not give a damn...
Look into my heart and tell me I am a complete disaster/
Wasnt that what you were after/
Always thought it was
-Sorry For Myself, Jann Arden
There's a little poem I've loved for a long time but never really knew the origins of until today. I found it randomly and discovered that the wording of the one I know is a little different from the original, but its essentially the same thing:
~odi et amo quare id faciam fortasse requiris / nescio sed fieri sentio et excrucior~
meaning:
~I hate and I love. Why do I do this, you perhaps ask. / I do not know, but I feel it happening and am tormented.~
Something to think about.
-Este
Sunday, May 13, 2007
Quote
Just a quote I stumbled upon today while looking for inspiration for my human growth essay. For the record, I liked it before I got to the part that's relevant.
"Have you ever been in love? Horrible isn't it? It makes you so vulnerable. It opens your chest and it opens up your heart and it means that someone can get inside you and mess you up. You build up all these defenses, you build up a whole suit of armor, so that nothing can hurt you, then one stupid person, no different from any other stupid person, wanders into your stupid life...You give them a piece of you. They didn't ask for it. They did something dumb one day, like smile at you, and then your life isn't your own anymore. Love takes hostages. It gets inside you. It eats you out and leaves you crying in the darkness, so simple a phrase like 'maybe we should be just friends' turns into a glass splinter working its way into your heart. It hurts. Not just in the imagination. Not just in the mind. It's a soul-hurt, a real gets-inside-you-and-rips-you-apart pain. I hate love. "
Neil Gaiman
-Este
"Have you ever been in love? Horrible isn't it? It makes you so vulnerable. It opens your chest and it opens up your heart and it means that someone can get inside you and mess you up. You build up all these defenses, you build up a whole suit of armor, so that nothing can hurt you, then one stupid person, no different from any other stupid person, wanders into your stupid life...You give them a piece of you. They didn't ask for it. They did something dumb one day, like smile at you, and then your life isn't your own anymore. Love takes hostages. It gets inside you. It eats you out and leaves you crying in the darkness, so simple a phrase like 'maybe we should be just friends' turns into a glass splinter working its way into your heart. It hurts. Not just in the imagination. Not just in the mind. It's a soul-hurt, a real gets-inside-you-and-rips-you-apart pain. I hate love. "
Neil Gaiman
-Este
Saturday, May 5, 2007
Ouch
This doesn't look good for me.
I often wonder why it is that I get so angry so easily. Why I become angry at my parents, my brother, the people I care about, especially Craig. Why I lose my temper so easily and get as angry as I do. I've come to the conclusion that should have been evident from the beginning. Becoming angry and defensive is easier than admitting (to myself and everyone else) that I'm hurt. Really hurt. So hurt, in fact, that it makes me too vulnerable to reveal it. I said before that I wasn't afraid to be vulnerable around him. I wasn't before, maybe I am now? I want to trust him and more than anything right now, I want him to trust me, to want me. But just wanting something isn't enough. Its his own decision and I can't make it for him (believe me, I would have if I could). He's already made up his mind though, I can tell. It doesn't look good for me.
But I'll live. I'll survive. I'll have to. I'll put on a bright smile, and look fabulous and flirt with all the guys, and be defiant and strong. And you'll wonder how I ever seemed so weak. And at prom, I'll be the star. Beautiful and confident, secure and loved. And you'll wonder at how stupid you were to pass me up. You'll see me and take everything at face value, and think that I'm okay. But you'll never see me hurting. I won't let you.
I often wonder why it is that I get so angry so easily. Why I become angry at my parents, my brother, the people I care about, especially Craig. Why I lose my temper so easily and get as angry as I do. I've come to the conclusion that should have been evident from the beginning. Becoming angry and defensive is easier than admitting (to myself and everyone else) that I'm hurt. Really hurt. So hurt, in fact, that it makes me too vulnerable to reveal it. I said before that I wasn't afraid to be vulnerable around him. I wasn't before, maybe I am now? I want to trust him and more than anything right now, I want him to trust me, to want me. But just wanting something isn't enough. Its his own decision and I can't make it for him (believe me, I would have if I could). He's already made up his mind though, I can tell. It doesn't look good for me.
But I'll live. I'll survive. I'll have to. I'll put on a bright smile, and look fabulous and flirt with all the guys, and be defiant and strong. And you'll wonder how I ever seemed so weak. And at prom, I'll be the star. Beautiful and confident, secure and loved. And you'll wonder at how stupid you were to pass me up. You'll see me and take everything at face value, and think that I'm okay. But you'll never see me hurting. I won't let you.
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