Nothing...

I usually try to make my posts more generalized, and open to interpretation. Right now though, I'm in an awful mood and I need to vent, so for the first time since I've been writing in this blog, I'm just going to write about exactly whats going on.

My ex-boyfriend is back in town and he wants to get back together. That would be fantastic under different circumstances. I told him about 3 months ago that I was still in love with him, but he obviously wasn't going to break up with his girlfriend, of course, and I didn't expect him to. My issue was that he was telling me that he loved me, and that he wished he was with me. I felt awful, I was the other girl, and I didn't like that, so I distanced myself from him. Now he's back, and he keeps telling me that he has a suprise for me, and that its something that we've been waiting for for a long time. I found out through a mutual friend that when he found out that he was comming home, he broke up with his girlfriend, and planned to ask me out again.

Wait...this is what we have been waiting for? No. No no no. You weren't waiting for you to break up with your girlfriend, but you expected me to be waiting? Am I really that pathetic in your eyes? That you're choosing me after 3 months was some fabulous suprise for me? That I'd jump into your arms and say "Thanks love, for finally choosing me". Fuck no. If thats who you think I am, then you don't know me at all, and thats truly sad.

 ----

 My father is an asshole. I want him to leave. No...I need him to leave. I need him to stop fucking with my life. His only concern is himself. He thinks about no one and nothing else. I wish I was exaggerating. There are some stories that I'd love to post, but I'd die if anyone I knew read them, they're far more personal than anything that I've posted, so I can't share. Everyone thinks that he's amazing. My mom and I are the only ones who really know him. In public he's a different person, and if I saw ONE bad thing about him to my grand parents, I'm the bitchy teenage daughter. WHAT THE FUCKING HELL?! The only reason that my parents are even still together is that my mom and I need the money. Sad isn't it?

Fuck life. Really though.

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You don't have to look at me like that.

I know you fucking hate me.

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You sometimes put the needs of others before your own as you carry the weight of the world on your shoulders.

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I have never ever wanted more to be dead than I do right now.

Everyones screaming, at eachother, at me.

My father is refusing to say that he loves me.

Because he wants a God damned social life.

Fucking bastard. I fucking hate him.

I fucking hate his family for fucking up my family.

I want him to choose.

But I guess that he has chosen.

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When the hell did you become this person?

How the hell can I still be expected to love you?

Maybe you were always this person, maybe love is blind. Maybe it's only now, now that I've fallen out of love with you, that I am able to see who you actually are. Maybe you were never the person I loved, maybe I created that person and allowed him to live vicariously through you. Maybe this whole mess is my fault, but maybe, just maybe, it was all fucking you.

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I've had my heart broken three times.

The first time was when you told me that you wished it had been you who had been killed in that accident and not your friend.

The second time was when you failed to tell me about your new girl friend when you were making out with me on the weekends.

The third time was when you failed to tell me that you were sleeping with her.

You asked me tonight if I would ever consider being with you again. Of course I said yes, and of course that was a lie. I think that the fact that you cheated on your girlfriend (with me) says a lot about your character. If you would do that to her, do you really think that I'd be stupid enough to let you do the same to me? (Hello heartbreak #4).

I'm certain that I was in love with you, but I hate who you've become. I hate how you belittle me, how you lie to me, how you take me for granted, how you expect me to love you after all the hell you've put me through.

You really don't get it. You don't get that I'll never look at you the same way that I used to. You don't get why I won't kiss you (I won't be the other girl). You don't get why I don't say "i love you" anymore. Actually, you don't even notice, do you?

I wonder if she knows what you're thinking. I wonder if you know what you're thinking.

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I want you to know me.

I want anyone to know me.

& I want you to love who I am.

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I have to lock my dad in a room to get him to speak to me.

He gets mad because I yell, but its the only way that I can get his attention. The only time he looks at me is when I yell, and even though thats an "I hate you" look, its still attention, and thats what I need from my daddy.

Don't leave, I just want to talk to you.

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Don't be so hard on yourself,
You won't get better til you're worse.

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This ruined puzzle is beige with the pieces all face down
so the placing goes slowly.
The picture's of anything other than it's meant to be.
But the hours they creep,
the patterns repeat.
Don't be concerned, you know I'll be fine on my own.
I never said "don't go."

I've hidden a note,
it's pressed between pages that you've marked to find your way back.
It says, "Does she ever get him back?"
But what if the pages stay pressed,
the chapters unfinished,
the storied too dull to unfold?
Does she ever get him back?

This basement's a coffin.
I'm buried alive.
I'll die in here just to be safe.
I'll die in here just to be safe.
'Cause you're gone.
I get nothing
and you're off with barely a sigh.
I never said, "Goodbye."

but I've hidden a note,
it's pressed between pages that you've marked to find your way back.
It says, "Does she ever get him back?"

but I've hidden a note,
it's pressed between pages that you'll read if you're so inclined.
It says, "Does she ever get him back?"

But the hours they creep,
the patterns repeat.
Don't be concerned, you know I'll be fine on my own.
I never said "don't go."

Does she ever get him back?

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As written in HORRORscopes: "You say that you love me, but I'm afraid to believe you".

RED FLAG! RED FLAG!

Note to self: trust your instincts.

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1. You don't lie to me.

2. You have morals.

3. We're always on the same page.

4. We're at the same point in our lives.

...

...

...

10,294,328: You love me.

I guess I love who you were, not who you've become.

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and heres to my best friend, for saying that the love of my life's new girlfriend has nothing on me.

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The signal is subtle
We pass just close enough to touch
No questions, no answers
We know by now to say enough
With only simple words
With only subtle turns
The things we feel alone for one another
There is a secret that we keep
I won't sleep if you won't sleep
Because tonight may be the last chance we'll be given
We are compelled to do what we must do
We are compelled to do what we have been forbidden
So I won't sleep if you won't sleep tonight
Our act of defiance
We keep this secret in our blood
No paper or letters
We pass just close enough to touch
We love in secret names
We hide within our veins
The things that keep us bound to one another
There is a secret that we keep
I won't sleep if you won't sleep
Because tonight may be the last chance we'll be given
We are compelled to do what we must do
We are compelled to do what we have been forbidden
Until the last trace and this hope
Is frozen deep inside my bones
And this broken fate has claimed me
And my memories for its own
Your name is pounding through my veins
Can't you hear how it is sung?
And I can taste you in my mouth
Before the words escape my lungs
And I'll whisper only once...
There is a secret that we keep
I won't sleep if you won't sleep
Because tonight may be the last chance we'll be given
We are compelled to do what we have to
We are compelled to do what we have been forbidden
'Cause you will be somebody's girl
And you will keep each other warm
But tonight I am feeling cold.

So, they're pretty much all my favorites. ha.

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Cry. Wish. Sleep. Wake. Cry. Wish. Sleep. Wake.

Shuffle. Repeat.

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Conversation between you and your loved one will flow today. Sometimes we may think we are talking; yet we have only spoken off the top of our heads rather than from the depths of hearts. Take time today to have that deeper conversation and encourage some real sharing. It will renew and strengthen the bond between you, and encourage you both to fall in love again.

Horoscopes; Horrorscopes

You say that you love me, but I'm afraid to believe you.

I've found through my limited experience with the opposite sex that anything they do has an alterior motive. A secret method that results in madness.

It's not that I don't believe in love. I love you, and I believe in my love for you. Believing that anyone loves me is where I'm having trouble. I'd like to blame my father, but I fear that you'd think that I was just using him as a scapegoat, and perhaps that is indeed the case.

Maybe I'm just permenantly screwed, maybe its best you didn't get involved.

You're better off without me my love.

Sometimes, if you love someone you must set them free.

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Why try to be happy?

You couldn't possibly allow that.

Why try to make something of myself?

You're always going to be an obstacle that I can't get past.

Why try to love?

You never taught me how.

Why try?

You're killing me.

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I didn't ask for this life, I didn't sign my soul to this family. I know that I have more material wealth than most, but emotionally, I have nothing.

You've given up everything for me, and because I have many posessions, you are without, but I'm only here for you, I don't want to be here, I want to give up, run away, but for you, I stay.

I'm sorry I'm such a burden. I'm sorry that your life is unfufilled, because of me.

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"I've given up everything for you."

Simple words in a heated arguement that haunt me to no end.

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I am an ugly vase. I am completely empty, and waiting to be filled, with little hope of it ever happening. I am common, easily broken, easily replaced, and easily forgotten.

I cannot dazzle you with my wit, because I have nothing to say. I am expressionless, emotionless.

I am the artists first and only creation, he was afraid to fail twice.

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As I sit here tonight, I wonder how anyone could ever love me. I am no more beautiful on the inside than I am on the outside, thus I am not beautiful at all. I am not the type of girl who a boy brags about to his friends, nor am I the kind of girl whom he would want to take home to his parents.

I am nothing like my mother. I am not strong, I am not courageous, I am not skillful, I am not brave. I have not become the person whom I was seeking. I did not find my true self, my true self found me, and if I had had the opportunity to select who I wanted to be, this is not the person that I would have chosen.

I do not feel true compassion, or love. My heart is black, and it is cold, it's only purpose is to pump blood through my veins, and even that seems like a struggle.

I lie. I deceive. I gossip. I ridicule. I am lied to. I am deceived. I am gossiped about. I am ridiculed.

I am me.

I am her.

I am you.

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