[^Lyrics by 10 Years. "Fix Me"]
I had an idea driving home from Milwaukee last night. I was going to blog about different things I took away from my relationships. What did I learn, who did I become, how am I different? Part of me wants to throw this idea out of the window. But, eh. I might as well. The part of me that doesn't want to do it, is the part of me that was crabby when I got to work today. It's the part of me that immediately blamed one of my roommates when I found my dog locked in the bathroom. It's the more cynical part of me that thinks the whole idea is retarded. Oh well. Fuck that guy, fuck 'em right in the ear.
First of all, I was 14 the first time I was in a relationship, and, subsequently, the first time I had sex. It's a little disappointing really. But I digress. My relationship with April was...well, it was gross. I was part of "that" couple. You know, both kind of gross and trashy? That was us. I was a gangsta g and she was just a trashy slut. She was dumb too. Like, no, seriously, she was dumber than a bag of inbred hammers. I swear to christ. So, firstly, from her, I learned that I like girls that are at least somewhat intelligent. I formed a more honed in opinion of the girl that I want to be with in the long run. The smart, funny, attentive, non-phsyco (by the way, I'm so bad at spelling that word, spell check can't even figure out what the fuck I'm talking about) girlfriend.
What I really learned from April is that I can do better. We were dysfunctional. I couldn't trust her. She taught me what to look for in a girl by being the completely wrong girl for me. The first time we broke up, she got a new girlfriend and tried to make me the other girl. What is that I don't even...She taught me that the world doesn't stop at 15, especially for love or, rather, "love". She taught me that I needed to be more open minded and look around...for the right girl. She taught me not to be who I was when I was 14. A little shady, a little gangster, a lot powerless in my relationship. Thanks to her, I realized that I can't completely give the power to the woman in my life. It's not healthy. Also, it causes drama. I hate fighting with people, I hate relationship drama (not like, legit problems, though I wouldn't say I like those. I'm talking about stupid shit you'd expect a crazy, attention-starved 15 year old to start).
I broke up with April cos I was sick of her shit. But I was single for all of one month before I realized the real reason I broke up with her. I was in love with someone else. At least, I think I was. I'm pretty sure I was. Anyway, then there was the first of a string of heterosexual females that would eventually take over my life. Rora was the complete opposite of April. She was super intelligent, full of life, funny, we had similar interests...and she was independent. And, to an extent, I think that's what killed us. She was TOO independent. Anything I said was brought back to some psuedo-feminist bullshit logic debate that I didn't want to start. I wasn't trying to oppress her, I wasn't trying to argue or take away her rights. Sometimes I wanted to do things my way, and that wasn't good for her. I realize, now, that I entered a completely Rora-dominated relationship. I remember good times, staying up way too late on the phone and having fun. Thinking about intimate things makes me feel awkward. Not like, oh man that's my ex...but more like "ugh what is this I don't even..." Apparently, I just don't like thinking about it. So I won't.
My friendship and relationship with Rora made me into more of the person I am today. She formed a lot of my musical tastes, made me into a thinker. Made me think that if I don't say "i'm sorry" to bad news or probe someone for what's wrong with them, what's on their mind, i'm a bad friend. She made me feel guilty for not particularly thinking anything, especially not thinking about her. To an extent, she gave me a complex. Not that I didn't already think a lot, but I think she made it run deeper, made my soul bleed for thoughts and guilt. It was like becoming a catholic all over again.
I think, most of all, she made me realize that if I have a different opinion of something than someone else, I'm going to be judged for it. If it differs, I'm weird and wrong and being judged. Many a band have fallen to my wayside because they were deemed unworthy of music. I didn't realize music was so objective. She made me see that. She made me hide in my shell, afraid to really say what I'm thinking. I conformed. If she said I'd like something, then I did. If she said I wouldn't, I'd never get the chance to give it a chance. That's how it worked. I realize now that I was dealing with a control freak. Everything had to be within her grasp. She had to be the mastermind. I quit smoking for her. I didn't drink often. I didn't swear unless I was angry. My grammer and typing improved (not a bad thing). I stopped listening to Fallout Boy and Avril Lavinge and would have never touched a T.Swift cd because she's wrong. They're wrong and they suck and that's that.
When Rora left me, I almost self-destructed. I've talked to people who knew me during and learned that people were worried. I look back on the three years, yes, three years that she kept me on a just-the-right-length-leash and see that I was a walking zombie. I didn't care. I tried somewhat to get into dating again, but got burned each time. Who was there to pick up the peices? Who was there to show me that she had moved on but could still pencil me in? Who gave me a complex that I carry to this day with Emily? Rora was. Someday, her power-hunger, ego-maniacal possiveness and inability to concede to incorrectness will be the death of her. Make no mistake, I don't wish harm upon her...not anymore. Not that I could until I was liberated, that is. It's hard to hate someone that keeps you so close, yet so far away. Even when you get kicked out of your own dorm for your 18th birthday. Even when all of your birthday's get destroyed in the war path. Even then, it's hard to escape the leash.
The girls between Rora and Emily aren't important enough to denote here. Emily is the important one. And I know that that very sentence makes her cringe. Maybe she should skip on ahead. Maybe, just maybe, she shouldn't read this at all... Emily was a breath of fresh air in the smog that was the grip of Rora. She was so unbelieveably perfect it's hard to stomach. My ideal girl? Not some bleach blonde whore with herpes and the education of a 5th grader. This was a girl from a small town, very quiet and shy. This was a girl that was sheilded off from love, from people, from everything, but a girl I was drawn to nonetheless. This is a girl that didn't discourage me from smoking or drinking or staying up late and sleeping in until noon (that was also looked down upon by Rora). This was a girl who's daddy didn't buy her everything and hand it to her. This was a girl that was down to earth and humble, yet confidant (to an extent). This is a girl who could brought out the best of me. When I look into her eyes, I hold two things to be self-evident. Number one is that if she is speaking, she is not lying to me. Number two is that if I am speaking, I am not hiding from her. She's the first and only person to kick down the door and tell me "hey...be who you are. Fuck everyone else." This is a girl who sometimes doesn't shower or put on deoterant cos she's lazy. This is a girl who is pretty messy sometimes, and considering how clean I am, I don't care. This is a girl who really was like me. A girl who I believe loved me, and to an extent, still does. (Don't misconstrue that statement, please. There are different levels of love. I don't mean to say anything of a relationship sort. That's not the implication).
From Emily, I learned who I really want in my life. Both in a girlfriend and a friend. I don't need someone to tell me what I like, what I want. I need someone that will listen to me cry at 3 in the morning when I'm being irrational and scared because of a complex that was bestowed upon me. I need a girl with a kind smile and a good head on her shoulders to set me straight, but be gentle. I need a girl that won't judge me, about anything really. I need someone I can be myself around, completely and totally. Someone I can trust, even when I'm being irrational and am convinced that she hates me and wants to be away from me as much as possible. Even when I'm sure she's hiding things...I just have to remember what's real, and what's in my head. I have the best, most understanding, intelligent, fucking hilarious, most stubborn, youngest, enabling, most awesome, and, quite frankly, most beautiful (inside and out), best friend ever. And the rest of you can suck it.
Well. Those are some paragraphs! Wow, didn't think I had that much talking in me. And be forewarned that this is edited. I had lots more to say. TL;DR let's review.
From April, I got sensability and standards.
From Rora, I got uptightness and a complex about trust and people abandoning me.
From Emily, I got freedom.
Here is where I put a witty follow up. Here is where I write something sweet and heartfelt about Emily. Maybe put some hint that will prompt her to leave a comment or chat with me about it IRL. Something that will attempt to get her attention. Here's the poor me sentence. Here is where I bid you adieu because I am goddamn tired. Good night.
[And here is where I ask...is it illegal to say that I miss your face? Is that something I can't do? Because I do.]
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
Tuesday, March 15, 2011
Parablogging
Too tired for a lyrical title now. Next time.
The blags that are "drafts" will stay that way so they are not seen by other eyes. As I should have done with most all of these blags. A lot of them are stupid and pointless and just me talking about my terrible, awful life that is full of people I don't deserve and holy shit I am whiney because I suck and everyone should hate me because I do.
That...that might be a little too close to what I actually sound like.
Anyway. This is mostly just because someone told me to, again. I have stuff to say but I'm really tired (it's only 3am), and I'm setting an alarm because I want to start getting up before the crack of 1.
The blags that are "drafts" will stay that way so they are not seen by other eyes. As I should have done with most all of these blags. A lot of them are stupid and pointless and just me talking about my terrible, awful life that is full of people I don't deserve and holy shit I am whiney because I suck and everyone should hate me because I do.
That...that might be a little too close to what I actually sound like.
Anyway. This is mostly just because someone told me to, again. I have stuff to say but I'm really tired (it's only 3am), and I'm setting an alarm because I want to start getting up before the crack of 1.
Monday, March 14, 2011
Leave me with some kind of clue it's not a dream
[Lyrics by Paramore. You have to tell me what song. No Google.]
I got told to write a new blag. I'm not sure I have much to say. But this is the internet, and this is me, so I suppose that I shall write and write until I can write no more.
My thigh is sore. That sounds really giggity-worthy, but it's not. Stupid genes and work pants and rubbing and ow.
Random fact: I like the smell of smoke on my hands. Like, after I have a cigarette, I like the smell it leaves. Don't ask me why. I'm not really a huge fan of how smoke smells in the first place. I don't have a problem with it, obviously, but I'm really extraordinarily self-consious about my smell and therefore don't like to smell like smoke cos some people loathe it.
I could sit here and talk about my feelings. That would take up roughly the entire internet. Truth be told, I don't know what to say right now. I know that as soon as I turn off the lights and close my eyes, I'll think of a million and a half things to say. Maybe this is the part where I just let my hands do the talking and leave my brain out of the equation. Maybe this is the part where I talk about how confused I am on somedays, how sad I am, but how I've been doing my absolute best to put everything at the back of my mind and make everything okay. Maybe this is the part where I talk about how terrible my awful life is.
Maybe this is the part where I say things that make it awkward. Things that will never get brought up again. Except, of course, when I end up rereading this blag and wondering, probably outloud, what the fuck I was thinking.
Let's begin.
Here's the part where I mix in some inflating of narcissistic feelings. Not my own. I'm much too self-loathing to be narcissistic. Or maybe that's just what I think. I love attention. I love when gorgeous girls give me attention. Even though I know it means nothing, I mean nothing, I still like it. Why shouldn't I? I get a free pass to flirt with cute girls and it's innocent. What could be better?
I'm trying to figure out how much of that is sarcasm. Part of it is cool because...well, it is. My friends know I'm not going to rape them and the boys get all pissy (some of them) because I can make almost legitimate passes at girls that may or may not have some sort of deeply hidden, mixed up feelings for me. I don't want to ruin friendships and burn bridges, though. I'm just having fun. Mostly. I can't say I'm not a little confused. Maybe even a tiny bit worried. I think it's all for naught though.
I push things into the back of my mind instead of thinking about them, sometimes. Sometimes it's hard for me to think about not seeing the most gorgeous set of green eyes I've ever seen first thing in the morning. Maybe I have a problem. A severe case of seperation anxiety. I'm worse than the fucking dog. Sometimes, 'I'm getting better' just doesn't cut it. Not that it's not a good thing to progress. It's just hard. Internet, how would YOU feel if you lived with a truly beautiful and amazing person and you had to worry about loosing that person? Yeah, you wouldn't like it either. It's rare to find someone so smart, so humble, so egotistical, so smarmy, so caring, so funny, and so gorgeous. It makes me want to be a better person because I am not one that deserves such a person. I am not a person that deserves close friends that I can rely on. But, by the grace of god, I have them. And I will do right by them.
I know that I have more to say, but hopefully this is sufficent enough for now. I know I'm kind of in mid thought but...I can barely keep my eyes open. In the morning, dear blag, I shall return. And by 'morning' I mean, probably around 1ish if I'm lucky. I also just realized that I have a couple of blags that are labeled as "drafts". Hmm. Must see what these are. Updates tomorrow.
I got told to write a new blag. I'm not sure I have much to say. But this is the internet, and this is me, so I suppose that I shall write and write until I can write no more.
My thigh is sore. That sounds really giggity-worthy, but it's not. Stupid genes and work pants and rubbing and ow.
Random fact: I like the smell of smoke on my hands. Like, after I have a cigarette, I like the smell it leaves. Don't ask me why. I'm not really a huge fan of how smoke smells in the first place. I don't have a problem with it, obviously, but I'm really extraordinarily self-consious about my smell and therefore don't like to smell like smoke cos some people loathe it.
I could sit here and talk about my feelings. That would take up roughly the entire internet. Truth be told, I don't know what to say right now. I know that as soon as I turn off the lights and close my eyes, I'll think of a million and a half things to say. Maybe this is the part where I just let my hands do the talking and leave my brain out of the equation. Maybe this is the part where I talk about how confused I am on somedays, how sad I am, but how I've been doing my absolute best to put everything at the back of my mind and make everything okay. Maybe this is the part where I talk about how terrible my awful life is.
Maybe this is the part where I say things that make it awkward. Things that will never get brought up again. Except, of course, when I end up rereading this blag and wondering, probably outloud, what the fuck I was thinking.
Let's begin.
Here's the part where I mix in some inflating of narcissistic feelings. Not my own. I'm much too self-loathing to be narcissistic. Or maybe that's just what I think. I love attention. I love when gorgeous girls give me attention. Even though I know it means nothing, I mean nothing, I still like it. Why shouldn't I? I get a free pass to flirt with cute girls and it's innocent. What could be better?
I'm trying to figure out how much of that is sarcasm. Part of it is cool because...well, it is. My friends know I'm not going to rape them and the boys get all pissy (some of them) because I can make almost legitimate passes at girls that may or may not have some sort of deeply hidden, mixed up feelings for me. I don't want to ruin friendships and burn bridges, though. I'm just having fun. Mostly. I can't say I'm not a little confused. Maybe even a tiny bit worried. I think it's all for naught though.
I push things into the back of my mind instead of thinking about them, sometimes. Sometimes it's hard for me to think about not seeing the most gorgeous set of green eyes I've ever seen first thing in the morning. Maybe I have a problem. A severe case of seperation anxiety. I'm worse than the fucking dog. Sometimes, 'I'm getting better' just doesn't cut it. Not that it's not a good thing to progress. It's just hard. Internet, how would YOU feel if you lived with a truly beautiful and amazing person and you had to worry about loosing that person? Yeah, you wouldn't like it either. It's rare to find someone so smart, so humble, so egotistical, so smarmy, so caring, so funny, and so gorgeous. It makes me want to be a better person because I am not one that deserves such a person. I am not a person that deserves close friends that I can rely on. But, by the grace of god, I have them. And I will do right by them.
I know that I have more to say, but hopefully this is sufficent enough for now. I know I'm kind of in mid thought but...I can barely keep my eyes open. In the morning, dear blag, I shall return. And by 'morning' I mean, probably around 1ish if I'm lucky. I also just realized that I have a couple of blags that are labeled as "drafts". Hmm. Must see what these are. Updates tomorrow.
Friday, March 4, 2011
Pain so familiar and close to the heart
[^Lyrics from Without You by Breaking Ben]
Why is it that sometimes it feels like my entire world is falling apart, for no good reason at all. It's not like anything even happened. It's just the same paranoia that creeps back into my mind. The same paranoia that I joked about just today. Why? Why does it keep coming back? It's not fair. I'm trying to be happy. I'm trying to have fun with my friends and keep every one happy and not ruin anything. I thought I was doing a good job.
So why do I feel like there are tears welling behind my eyes? Why is there a feeling in the pit of my stomache that just tells me how ready I am to break down? I hate it. I want it to stop. I'm trying to think happy thoughts, read funny things, see happy pictures. It's just sliding off to the side like it doesn't matter. It's hitting me, making a valid attempt at life, and then falling to the wayside.
Just...just fucking smile. Once. Just once. Think. Think of you're favorite people and how much fun you have with your new social life.
The sad thing is...pysching myself up like that just makes me more sad because I'm an egotisical jerk. I can't even validate that claim. It just sounded like a good thing to say. I am kind of egotiscical though. Sometimes. That first sentence doesn't even make sense, really. What I meant to say was that usually I fail at making myself happy, somehow. Sometimes, I just can't. I don't know how I make it worse, but I do. I think when it comes to that point, it's mostly just frustration because I feel sad in the first place.
I've got someone standing 10 feet away that would listen to all of this. So why am I moping here and typing all of this? Is it because I don't really know what's wrong with me? Mostly. Also, I ended up making an ass of myself a week or so ago and ended up drunk and crying at 3am. No one wants to deal with that. It was pretty clear that neither of us wanted to be dealing with it at that time. Alcohol is a depressant though. And that's my excuse.
There's always an excuse with me. Because, why wouldn't there be?
I think right now I'm frustrated because I thought I was past this. I thought I was past hiding so I could bitch and moan to myself. I just want to know the trigger. Maybe I can figure it out. Let's see.
1. I still can't tell if I'm rebounding on my other lady friend or not. Somedays I feel like I need to see her and talk to her, some days I wish I would have never started talking to her at all. Am I rebounding or do I like her? That is the question. Maybe the greater question is...does she like me like they say, or are they all wrong? That's almost as frustrating. I still don't think there's enough evidence to think she likes me, but then again, I refused to believe Emily liked me until after there was overwhelming evidence to prove it. I think I didn't believe it until like..maybe a week before we got together. Maybe.
2. There's a reason why I think she's a rebound. I'm still in love with someone else. Sometimes, everything is 100% okay. I mean, I'm never thrilled that we're not together, but lately it doesn't hurt as much. Not to be confused to me getting over her/falling out of love with her. Other times, I'm paranoid of her every move. Does she resent me? Is there someone else? Does she still trust me and want to talk to me? Am I being too overbearing? Should I go away so she can have time alone? There are just so many questions falling into my paranoia. I am proud though that I've been able to answer those questions on some days [no, not last time I asked, yes, maybe!, depends how overbearing I'm being].
3. I hate my job and wish that I didn't work at 2am on the weekends. I mean, thank god it's only 2 days a week...but it still hinders my social life (which is budding lately. People want to hang out with me..?) Also, I work with the lady from #1 at least once a week so that's...interesting. Hello sexual tension.
4. I naturally hate myself and apparently am masochistic enough to wish to be miserable. I really need to stop that.
5. I hate winter and, moreso than anything else, snow. I want spring. Late winter depression? Not likely, but still. Cabin fever and all that.
Okay, now I'm just fishing. I don't know. I've never known. I just want to know so I can fix it. I'm tired of being in "one of those moods". I'm tired of having to apologize for stupid tear-stained conversations that come out of nowhere. I'm just tired of doing this. I just want to be normal.
Why is it that sometimes it feels like my entire world is falling apart, for no good reason at all. It's not like anything even happened. It's just the same paranoia that creeps back into my mind. The same paranoia that I joked about just today. Why? Why does it keep coming back? It's not fair. I'm trying to be happy. I'm trying to have fun with my friends and keep every one happy and not ruin anything. I thought I was doing a good job.
So why do I feel like there are tears welling behind my eyes? Why is there a feeling in the pit of my stomache that just tells me how ready I am to break down? I hate it. I want it to stop. I'm trying to think happy thoughts, read funny things, see happy pictures. It's just sliding off to the side like it doesn't matter. It's hitting me, making a valid attempt at life, and then falling to the wayside.
Just...just fucking smile. Once. Just once. Think. Think of you're favorite people and how much fun you have with your new social life.
The sad thing is...pysching myself up like that just makes me more sad because I'm an egotisical jerk. I can't even validate that claim. It just sounded like a good thing to say. I am kind of egotiscical though. Sometimes. That first sentence doesn't even make sense, really. What I meant to say was that usually I fail at making myself happy, somehow. Sometimes, I just can't. I don't know how I make it worse, but I do. I think when it comes to that point, it's mostly just frustration because I feel sad in the first place.
I've got someone standing 10 feet away that would listen to all of this. So why am I moping here and typing all of this? Is it because I don't really know what's wrong with me? Mostly. Also, I ended up making an ass of myself a week or so ago and ended up drunk and crying at 3am. No one wants to deal with that. It was pretty clear that neither of us wanted to be dealing with it at that time. Alcohol is a depressant though. And that's my excuse.
There's always an excuse with me. Because, why wouldn't there be?
I think right now I'm frustrated because I thought I was past this. I thought I was past hiding so I could bitch and moan to myself. I just want to know the trigger. Maybe I can figure it out. Let's see.
1. I still can't tell if I'm rebounding on my other lady friend or not. Somedays I feel like I need to see her and talk to her, some days I wish I would have never started talking to her at all. Am I rebounding or do I like her? That is the question. Maybe the greater question is...does she like me like they say, or are they all wrong? That's almost as frustrating. I still don't think there's enough evidence to think she likes me, but then again, I refused to believe Emily liked me until after there was overwhelming evidence to prove it. I think I didn't believe it until like..maybe a week before we got together. Maybe.
2. There's a reason why I think she's a rebound. I'm still in love with someone else. Sometimes, everything is 100% okay. I mean, I'm never thrilled that we're not together, but lately it doesn't hurt as much. Not to be confused to me getting over her/falling out of love with her. Other times, I'm paranoid of her every move. Does she resent me? Is there someone else? Does she still trust me and want to talk to me? Am I being too overbearing? Should I go away so she can have time alone? There are just so many questions falling into my paranoia. I am proud though that I've been able to answer those questions on some days [no, not last time I asked, yes, maybe!, depends how overbearing I'm being].
3. I hate my job and wish that I didn't work at 2am on the weekends. I mean, thank god it's only 2 days a week...but it still hinders my social life (which is budding lately. People want to hang out with me..?) Also, I work with the lady from #1 at least once a week so that's...interesting. Hello sexual tension.
4. I naturally hate myself and apparently am masochistic enough to wish to be miserable. I really need to stop that.
5. I hate winter and, moreso than anything else, snow. I want spring. Late winter depression? Not likely, but still. Cabin fever and all that.
Okay, now I'm just fishing. I don't know. I've never known. I just want to know so I can fix it. I'm tired of being in "one of those moods". I'm tired of having to apologize for stupid tear-stained conversations that come out of nowhere. I'm just tired of doing this. I just want to be normal.
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