So when you tell me that you love me know for sure...

I don't wanna be lonely any more.

So Rob Thomas sung, and quite probably, shall sing again. I'm looking
for someone I can sing that to, not literally of course.

I'm lonely, at the heart of everything else. With my best friends
Kathleen and Lyn and Bass Boy and my various other friends, I've got
this void I'm trying to fill. BF, sure, he's got his place. But I
can't talk to him about him and other boys, about girly things and
movies and anime and joke about old memories and a future together. We
don't have a long term future together. I do not see us getting
married, although I'm fine with being proved wrong on that. He may be
the ever elusive "one" but for now he is merely my boyfriend, and
while this might sound stupid, I hate that he is the person I am
currently closest to.

At this age, friends are the steadiest thing I have. They are the ones
I can still see having a bond with decades down the line.

Chip, well, we'll see.

I don't want my boyfriend to be the person I go to first to tell
everything, when we have been together for two months. I do not want
to be clingy and I want a solid foundation, I want a girl's view and a
specific sort. Some friendships just click together perfectly, you
know, and I have not been able to find someone who I can talk to about
things like my Rainbow Brite girl. I mean, we talk now. But it's not
the same as before, when we were best friends, secure in our
friendship and able to talk about anything, as we did while wagging
school to get chips at the deli, cringing over the deli lady's mockery
of our order of large fries between the two of us and laughing over
past experiences and future plans. We talked about everything and
although I'll tell Kathleen things, her perspective is different. I
don't see her at school, she only gets ideas of school drama from my
perspective.

My gossip sources are strained and poor, not to mention slow.

I have no one to discuss my insecurities with Chip because most of my
friends are single and don't seem to want to hear me talk about him.

I miss having someone to talk to about everything who has that specific perspective... I miss you, Becca.

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Letters to People IV

Dear J,

This is for you.

What did you think about what I said? I know what you said your response was, but of course it was more turbulent than you can express... I didn't do it to taunt you, or just for the sake of continuing it on. There is an essence of truth to that statement, even now. How could I forget all that passed between us? Even with all that has happened since, you know that, I've spoken of that connection we still hold. I still feel it and in some ways I still care. In some ways I don't, because when I chose to cut ties, well, I found with you that I'm pretty good at it. But it's never been entirely without regrets.

And the argument "what goes around comes around" could be put to good use here, hey? That was the last thing I expected.

Don't think I never miss/ed you. There are still times when I remember little things. It will never ever be the same, even if you could forego your perfectly justified wariness, and even though sometimes I have wanted to. I won't let myself entertain such thoughts, to be honest, because things have changed. That friendship was one that I feel should be left in the past, just because it was a good thing, and I don't want the memory of that damaged. There is more to it, that is true. I'm not quite sure what those things are, though. I'm not sure I want to.

But that song, it brought you to mind for me, and sometimes it still does. It wasn't that long ago but we were so, so painfully innocent that it feels like another lifetime. I don't know that I can connect to who I was then, I can only look back as through a misted glass, but I somehow brought with me that connection between us up until now, and probably a while yet. And you know what?

It's not utterly, completely, wholly true now, and yet, in some ways, it still is.

Until the day I die.

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I Think I'm Getting Dumber.

And you may think I'm secretly blonde once I have told you the story of why. My friend told me that I was dumber than Paris Hilton - I'm so ashamed. (There'll be a poll at the end, don't worry.)

And btw, my Google Reader is fucked at the moment, what with my following 207 blogs and all (yes, two hundred and freaking seven) so I'm desperately trying to catch up on everything and if I don't comment on some kick ass post, yeah sorry. I know you'll miss me. -_-

So today, I'm kind of disheartened because it seems like I'm turning into one of those people who break everything they touch to the point where it's just plain embarrassing rather than funny, and you kinda wonder whatthefuck their point on earth could possible be other than to make you feel like a person of more worth. Take, for instance, the character Frank of old BBC comedy "Some Mothers Do 'Ave Em", which my parents are currently watching on DVD.

Case in Point 1.

This morning, I was about to leave for school, when, with one last look in the mirror, I noticed a dark stain on my jumper. At first, I, somewhat confusedly, thought it was blood, possibly because at the same time I accidentally stabbed my finger on one of the open safety pins that were supposed to be holding the strap of my bag in place, although they do that barely. That broke again today, irrepairably. Or, you know, I came to that conclusion because I am quite simply, morbid as fuck. It was also a strange reversal of an incident that occurred many years ago when I was a child, when I cut my hand opening a tube of tennis balls (pulling off the foil covering under the lid) in the car in the dark and was bleeding all over the tennis balls but somehow thought it was ink or oil...

I soon realised it couldn't be, and was attempting to wash it off when I realised it was ink that must have leaked from a pen in the pocket of my jumper. In washing it out I left a huge wet mark on my jumper. I was already wearing my school bag and didn't want to waste time, so... I proceeded to try to iron the wet patch on my jumper... while still wearing it.

I always knew it was a stupid idea, although I guess I never really worked out why... I thought, it's my jumper, it's wet, so the heat won't penetrate to my skin. I AM INSANE.

Less than 5 seconds later, I yelped in pain. OHMYGOD. It was so hot.

Duh.

So I ended up ironing my jumper on the ironboard after removing it, leaving faint ink stains on the ironboard cover in the process.

As a friend pointed out to me, why the FUCK didn't I use the hairdryer on it?

It never even crossed my mind.

I fucking suck.

Case in Point 2.

Why is my school bag broken? Well, it all began when walking through the library doors, where they have the same sort of things on the side as at shops, to make sure no one just steals books. I caught my bag in one of these without realising, kept walking, and tore the strap off the bag at the bottom. I have been attempting to hold it together with a whole bunch of safety pins since the bag is plastic and I know that if I tried to sew it back, things would only worsen.

Safety pins really aren't doing it anymore.

Case in Point 3.

We had a Biology practical today which involved cutting up Agar into cubes. Agar is jelly-like, but firmer, and I amused myself by drawing on the leftovers with my pen that is not a ball-point and I can't work out what type it is. Said pen no longer works. At all.

It was new.

Case in Point 3.

Today we had Maths, since we don't have every lesson every weekday. I forgot my Maths workbook, textbook, and calculator. I'd say the only thing I had that was able to be used in that subject was my pen, but I had already destroyed that earlier, in Biology, and happened to have on hand a pen I have borrowed from somebody else, forgotten to return, and now cannot recall who owns it, and no one else seems to know.


I could go on for hours but it's becoming a little too depressing and I'm going out soon so time is not on my side, although thank God, in this situation.

I'm angry at myself, because in our Biology practical, we used razor blades to cut the cubes, and everyone laughed over the brand of these blades being "Happiness". The irony here is obvious, but the thing is, I contributed by saying something about Emos, etc. It's not hard to work out the gist of any of those comments. But the thing is, I have been there, I know certain other people in the same area have cut themselves and I was completely insensitive and cruel about it. Talk about contributing to the stereotype. Because it isn't funny, and even though some people do it for attention, a lot of the time that is because they need help but can't express it in a normal way. I've thought that since before I ever did it, but as to why I did, there are so many different reasons. And I could never have stopped without one particular person.

The first person I told besides the ex ex best friend, and who stuck around for my relapse and getting through trying to quit again. I can't remember if I ever told her how grateful I was and am to her, specifically, although there were many general thank-you's to all of my friends who helped in some way, and I hope so much that I did, because I don't think I could ever have stopped without her. And she was right there in the room and I wondered if the conversation reminded her of me - what a terrible thing to connect with me. I see her more often than the others, and its excruciating because I think of how this time would be spent if things hadn't gone the way they had. And even when sometimes I think, fuck it, I'm going to leave my arms and stomach in shreds and pouring with blood, it's for her I don't, although I don't even know if it matters to her anymore, and I half hope it does and half that it doesn't, because, really, which is worse? I don't know anymore. Better for her, better for me; is anything best for the both of us??

And why I am I speaking about her now when I have tried so hard and so long to block her out? That sounds terrible, but if I didn't I don't know what I would do. In some ways, that's the hardest to deal with, because we were the ones who talked. I'd tell them all the same stuff but just, it was different, with her. We talked in depth about freaking everything. And it's talking about the really serious shit and just typical teen matters that I miss. Just, the way that we talked. Kathleen is great, but. It's not the same.

Nothing with other people could ever be the same.

And finally, for the answer to my question, I actually let myself read her blog [and the other's] tonight and then, well, then I obviously couldn't block it anymore. Now I'm more confused than ever. And there's only four days to go and I don't want it to get here, because one was bad enough. And even though the day before I'd done the stupidest thing I could have, that was barely on my mind.

[And, well, I guess that maybe you're reading this [?] and I wonder what you'll be thinking, but I have nowhere left to go, and I decided a long time ago that this was where I would write what I was thinking. I don't fucking know, I hide in every other way, I don't want to leave here too.

So maybe I won't write that letter. Because half the time I'm writing to all of you on here anyway.

You know, this post began and I was determined not to think about you, to make it to you or about you, all of you, for once. But what you said is running through my head and I'm trying to make sure I understand.

I hope you'll never think he was more important. He was just the one who was around the most, and from all that time together, to nothing. Fuck. I still don't know, I still don't think it was that way. But I wonder. "What's it like to kiss someone with a beard?" I remembered her asking that the other day, when I'd told both of you about hooking up with the exbestfriend, and how you both laughed as we walked our separate ways to different classes. That made me laugh.

But you know what? I realised, months ago, that I can deal with not being his friend. I always knew we wouldn't be "best friends forever". But I truly thought that about you two, and I guess, I guess that we all thought that but, I dunno. Semester One exam week, last year, sitting at the shops; do you remember the old lady who had the hair like the scary woman from Spirited Away? And how after we laughed at her, we talked about how we had to still be friends when we were old and had grey hair?

It's things like that I wish I could forget.]


In other news, guys, I may be getting back with Jimit. We were talking about it, and I dunno. I do like him but a friend says it would be a bad idea for me to get into a relationship with anyone at the moment, and I know that's probably true, but I just disagree. I can't really think of a reason why not to, so enlighten me, as I'm sure I'm just too fucking blonde to realise.

Anyway, after the longest-ass and most rambly post I have written in fifty years, here is your poll. What is your opinion on my level of blondeness? Dumber than Paris Hilton, secretly blonde, dropped on my head as a child, my mother drank while pregnant with me, or what? All conclusions welcome ;)

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It was on Tuesday, so I believe.

I had a wonderful double free at school on Tuesday. For an hour and forty minutes, I was called a whore, a lesbian, a lesbian whore, a whore who was cheaper than a phone call; oh and "did I have a connection fee?" It was a joke, but the thing is, the guys who kept saying it took it past the point of being amusing. I'm really not a fan of one of them in particular, ugh. But I could deal with that. Some of what they were saying was hilarious. It was what one of them added that made me almost cry. "You not-friends-with-[exbestfriend]person". It was a ridiculous line. But it's true. And even though this person is hateful, he is friends with him, and as such, has one thing I want so much. No fair.

So fuck you Tom King. ;P

[And, Sacha, happy two year anniversary with Adam. I hope he keeps making you happy, you deserve it.]


Update: [7.40PM] I just read something... Something that makes me sad again. She's so lucky.

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OH GOD MY LIFE BE OVER

No, really. Losing the most important people in my life, having to deal with reading "Fresh and rosy-fingered Dawn" every five pages in the copy of "The Odyssey" we are studying in Classical Studies, failing German, crappy haircuts that apparently make me look like John Lennon, breaking my life line aka my mobile with no likelihood of a new one anytime soon, my dad being overseas for three weeks, lack of sleep; all of that, sure, I can deal [that was only half sarcasm]. BUT A HOLE IN MY FAVOURITE JEANS??? You have got to be shitting me.

I mean, come on, I practically live in these jeans. I had hunted for a pair of black skinny leg jeans that my legs didn't look fat in for freaking forever, and when I found them, well, I freaking wore them all the freaking time! I wear them to school, I wear them out, I wear them to church. I wear them everywhere. Sometimes I even wear them to bed. I wore them to Soundwave, an Australian alternative/metal music festival on a day with very high temperatures. They were filled with dust, but they lived through that awesome day with me. How, how can they die now? I do not understand.

See, this happened with one of my previous pairs of jeans also. The hole is suddenly there, so high up on the inside of my thigh that it's almost in crutch area. Okay, it's pretty much there. Yes, I know. It seems really suss. But. WHAT THE HELL??? I just do normal things that one does while wearing jeans. You know, sitting, standing, falling over, running, whatever the hell you do in ordinary life. Occasionally I'll slide on my butt somewhere in them but, come on. HOW DOES THIS FREAKING OCCUR?

I don't understand. Is it because they're really tight and I always sit cross legged in them and they just... frayed? I don't know! All I know is that, well, it's not really advisable for me to wear them any longer. I think I'm going to die. I have no other option. I love my jeans, I am a jeans girl. I cannot pull off trackies, which is why I only ever wear them around the house. I wear jeans on long flights, on long car trips, everywhere. They're so comfortable. I love them. This can't be the end of our long and beautiful friendship, in which they look good on my legs and cover my scars and keep me from having to wear shorts or the school skirt which I need to continually readjust and also expose my scars.

Not all that keen to be labelled the school emo.

Fuck my life.

P.S. Guys, head over to my friend Kate's blog and give some sympathy to someone who really needs it, having lost all information on their hard drive of the last three years. Devastating? It actually is, when you consider all the memories in the form of photographs and other such mementos contained on her computer. So. Send her love, she's awesome. (:

P.P.S. [10.01PM] I. Still. Cannot. Believe. That. Ifrickinbrokemypants. Broke all my phones, broke the keyboard thing, broke my friendships, broke every pair of headphones I have ever owned, broke my flute somehow, and a whole crap load of other stuff. It's official. I break everything.

In other news, I managed to score 75% on an in-class essay about The Odyssey in Classical Studies that I did practically no study for prior. I'm pretty stoked. Chuffed, let's use that. I'm pretty chuffed. But I can't keep fluking it. In the holidays, I will get organised. I want my TER (tertiary entrance rank) score at the end of the year to be a minimum of 90. Not sure if that's even achievable anymore. I need to check that.

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The ex ex best friend

I thought I'd tell the story of my first close best friend. Be warned, its long. Our closeness lasted a year, while we were in grade eight to nine, or perhaps nine to ten. I forget. We were friends for a while before that, but after my birthday in June one year, we started sharing everything with each other. It was strange and somewhat terrible on both our parts to lose such a friendship, particularly for her, and it did not end well. I think I grew out of my need for her, or something. Either way, I didn't want to accept my irritation at her and thus, it grew until I was incredibly angry at her, and we had a series of fights that were incredibly vicious (on my side) and cruel (also on my side). I was ashamed of myself when I thought about it, even at the time, and yet I closed off those emotions in order to be sadistic in a way I didn't know I was capable of. I am reminded of a passage in the text we are currently studying in English, but I shan't go into that.

She and I were vastly different from each other. She was logical, reasoning; did everything based on my emotions. She didn't really care how she looked, I definitely did (although you wouldn't have been able to tell from that ridiculous fringe I had for far too long sometime during that period of my life). She liked Maths, what the hell??? She didn't own a pair of jeans, I practically lived in them. She wasn't keen on hugs, I adored them. She wasn't comfortable talking about a lot of topics that come up in typical girl conversations, and was my polar opposite in nearly every way. (Sorry if my view of this is any different to yours)

It was odd that we were friends, if you think about it. But friendship has never been dictated by what two, or more, have in common. It's somewhat inexplicable. A lot of types of love are... Take that, logic! Anyway, in real life, our conversations without others were stilted and awkward; both struggling to come up with anything to speak of. However, we used to talk via text messaging all the time, we said so much in texts that we began to use abbreviation techniques that no one else could understand, so shortened were they. If we had not, we would each have run out of credit even faster than we did, and we used our credit incredibly rapidly.

We stayed up till 4 in the morning at times, talking about all kinds of things in texts, and then began to make phone calls at the same time, using the free minutes we received with our credit recharging plan. Then, we'd talk so much. We told us each other nearly everything, we could read each other's actions and notice hidden meanings in our words at school. We had a crazily special connection, I could try for years and not be able to define it exactly. We still had the really awkward conversations in real life, and even during the day our phone calls could go minutes without either of us having anything to say, broken by an occasional "so..." Like I said, odd friendship.

She was the first to find out about my hurting myself, when it did begin, months into our friendship, although she found out later. When I did tell her, she used all her logic to try to convince me not to. I've tried to stop for various reasons before, as I've mentioned. One reason was her. My other friends, the other friends, were a huge part of how I did eventually stop. July the 2nd, 2008. Last time ever. Almost nine months, I think. Haha, that's almost long enough to have a baby. ugh.

I learned random interesting facts from her, as she discovered them. I don't understand how our friendship fit together, but it did. I loved her, she loved me. We were there for each other even when we would fight. Like I said, I can't explain what was between us. Anyway, we were very good friends.

And then I got mad and was the hugest bitch ever to her. But that link we had, it's still there. We still sometimes occasionally have text conversations and late night phone calls. Well, we did, when I had my phone. It's different, of course. Certain things are no longer said, are not able to be said. But we still have that openness, to an extent, she still gives me advice. I really respect her advice still. And value her opinion, with some things. It is something weird that exists between us now, but now that all the anger has gone, and the pain and hurt has eased a little, it is something weird, but kinda good. Odd, like our friendship has always been. But not in a bad way.

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"When I look into your eyes, there's nothing quite as sad as goodbye"

If you have noticed, yes, my last three posts, including this one, have all been titled with lyrics from the same Shannon Noll (Australian Idol runner up years back) song. Yes, Shannon Noll. I know that's shameful for several reasons, but shhh. ;P

The last two were untitled and I happen to be listening to the song in question, and the lyrics seemed to (sorta) fit. Come to think of it, vast amounts of Backstreet Boys lyrics would probably be appropriate for my posts... Yeah that's definitely cause for shame ;P

I hate untitled posts.

I just remembered a dream I had on Friday night which terrified me so much I could not sleep again for hours. The friends, my best friends, although I don't know if I can call them that anymore, although in my mind they still are, and always will be; not the ex best friend (we are talking a little, still), but the other two, were the main feature in it. Nick was in it a little also, and various other people. It was so horrifyingly realistic that right now I want to stop my mind.

I hate the coincidental glances that have the shock of the unexpected moments of eye contact, and I wonder if the deadness I see is reflected in my eyes. It's definitely not reflected within. When I'm taken especially by surprise I literally feel sick.

I don't understand how it could get to this point.

And I can't explain the dream, my remembrance of it has already faded but left me with a dread I can't quite encapsulate in words. This whole thing is so... wrong.

I need some coffee.

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You ain't never had a friend like me

That's probably something to be glad about ;)

Although, I'm an alright - good friend. It's in other social contexts I don't seem to do very well;

Having a boyfriend / whatever Chris is (we're not officially going out, although I thought we were at one point, I think both of us are kinda confused about that so should probably clear that up sometime but I don't really care to be honest), is not that great. Not that I thought it was, but it's something close to hard work. I mean it's good, mostly. And I already knew relationships were hard work, I'm not that stupid. But the question is, can I bothered with that? You're required to do stuff. Not like that. But actually spend time with them and all that jazz, and put in effort. I have to show affection, and God knows, I get really anti social at times. I have teary / sad moments every day and you just gotta stay away from me then. Being alone is good sometimes. Friendships are so much easier...

Not that those things aren't necessary in friendships, but it's more relaxed. You share around. I am fully not saying I want to be in an open relationship type thing, but sigh. So, and I feel a little guilty about this, but I'm kinda glad Chris is going to be away from school for the next week or so. Or at least, I won't see him that long. Being with Jimit was great because I didn't see him so regularly, but even then I'd get sick of being around him, or talking to him all the time. And sometimes I'd cancel when we were supposed to hang out because I didn't feel like it. I don't really have that option here...

Yes, I'm a terrible girlfriend / whatever. I really just don't care enough. Or perhaps I am going through another stage of trying to avoid being in a relationship. But come on, I don't really think I'm ready for one anyway. Although, I probably never will be.

I miss Justin like anything. We're supposed to hang out soon, I hope.

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No hope, no love, no glory

Why, why, why, does such a depressing song have such a misleading title? "Happy Ending", by Mika, I mean. Mika's songs, for the most part, seem to be overly bright and cheerful (or at least annoying beyond belief e.g. Lollipop). Case in point - Love Today. Not that I listen to Mika. Much.

I fell in love with this song the first time I heard it, and I still am. But come on, I listen to enough "emo", and depressing music as it is. Really.

The music to Happy Ending even sounds pretty chill. Not necessarily upbeat, but peaceful, relaxing. It's the lyrics that bring it down. Way down. I actually almost feel like crying every time I hear this song. But I still love it, damnit. I understand when I associate songs with memories that were good and now, circumstances having changed, make me sad and nostalgic. Or songs which I can identify with about bad / sad things. But this song is just gloomy and makes me sad. For no reason. And yet, I can't stop listening to it. On repeat. Far too regularly, too. Sigh.

As such, for the moment I'm rather pensive. Bear with me.

Tomorrow is Sunday. A morning filled with church, while I do my best to pay attention. I haven't had to try as hard to keep myself awake during the service so much lately; perhaps my naps during English Studies are taking care of that. Not that I'm too fussed about missing out on the worship. I need to try and find out what the music is for the second service, since I am supposed to be playing. I'm as highly enthused about that task as ever. Afternoon has been delegated with homework, since I neglected that terribly today. Year Twelve is going fantastically so far [/sarcasm].

Late afternoon is back to church for Bible Study. fjlkdjgpkfldjgflfd. Keyboard mashing actually is a very good way of expression emotions of frustration, anger, or distress. So over Bible Study. I don't care! Then, maybe to another church for their evening service so I can hang out with some of my friends from that week of community service I did towards the end of the Christmas Holidays. Speaking of which, I cannot wait to donate blood again! There's still another month and a half to go, but.

Oh and of course I'm heaps keen to actually be present for the service there and all...

Actually, I kinda am (no sarcasm here). Really.

I was talking to Nick on Thursday, or Friday, or something, if you recall those panicky moments I had. He told me something which I had forgotten. If I really believe that those friendships are so worth it, if I'm not willing to let them just go like this, then I should talk to the friends in question. He reminded me that I need to actively do something about it. But I have no idea what I could say. And I've been so scared since the one time I did try to talk to them. And yes, that is a link to a friend's blog, and it probably doesn't make all that much sense; half the post is about something else. And she wasn't there for the rest of it. I couldn't write about it myself, and I still don't really want to revisit it, so if you want a slightly clearer picture of what happened, you'll have to make do with that. Not that anything when it comes to Kate could ever be just "making do". (:

Anyhow, when I said "scared", I meant in the sense that it would go wrong. Again. And I'm scared of knowing for sure that they are content with leaving it this way. When that feels so incredibly, undeniably wrong to me.

I'm in a rambly mood. A purposely rambly, unlike most other times when I attempt to write about something and go off on several tangents, and tangents of tangents.

Hmmm, what else? I'm behind in a few of my subjects. Yes, I know. I wasn't going to do that this year. This was my chance for a new start and, seven weeks in, I'm fucking it up already. I'll fix this, I swear. In the meantime, my parents aren't very happy, at all. In that extremely unhelpful way they are so good at using.

I miss the days when I would stay up till 4 and even 5AM, aided by insane amounts of coffee, just to get homework done at the last moment. Because then, at least I was getting it done, on time.

My mum also is convinced that I have resumed hurting myself, by burning myself. With my hair straightener. On my neck. Even I am not that retarded! Of course, I'm not really willing to tell her that no, that's a hickey. That would be much more awkward. So her only other option is that I burnt my neck by accident, but I vehemently denied that it was anything when she first saw and asked by it. Way to cover up, Toivoa. That would be why I need my stories preplanned and all ready to go. I didn't even consider an accidental burn, although that has happened before. Oops.

So I've the rest of this dreary weekend to get through, with only the thought of a four dollar Mocha on Monday and a possible Macca's run at lunch time to spur me onward...

Well, now that I think about it, that's definitely motivation enough.

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Can I please at least have this?

Okay, I've been having mad crazy mood swings again lately, a lot. As bad as before I was diagnosed with Vitamin D (and that other thing I don't know) deficiency. But my pills have been bought once more (I ran out), so hopefully that will fix that, and the constant tiredness resulting in lack of schoolwork being done (VERY BAD for year 12), and limit long naps and general sleeping time; not to mention falling asleep in class (only in English, I swear I fall asleep easier there than at home in bed at night).

That said, my continuous caffeine dosage daily (I think I've said this before, but damn I love the Mocha's from the local cafe) is, I think, also wreaking havoc with my system. Yes, that system overloaded with unhealthy food, unhealthy amounts of food, and severely lacking in exercise. I suppose those are a few things that are worth a mention. My mother certainly thinks they're worth several mentions, several times an evening...

But, today, I went for a jog with my sister. When the parentals left to go buy my tablets (my mother insisted on buying in bulk from some far away place in order to save a few dollars in price), I seized the moment to ask her to come with me. I would have done so ages before, because personally, I like running, and I know I'm way unfit yada yada, so I figure, may as well. And since my sister is way too obsessed with her figure and wanting to be thin (don't even get me started :( ), she's all into jogging and exercise of nearly every kind. I go out of my way to avoid anything that could be considered exercise. Largely because of my mum, but more on that another time.

Anyway, the jog was fun. Not necessarily fun, but invigorating. Not long, but still. A start, no? My mum would be pleased, which is why she will never know. Like I said, more on that another time. Although, come to think of it, her response would more likely be along the lines of, "It's good to see you showing some interest. Now do it more often." Grrr.

But, to the point of this post.

I really like Chris. He likes me. Is that not enough?

I've been fucked over more than I realised until this last week, and even that last post, by the friends thing. I've weakened my other friendships at school in response because, honestly, I was hurt, and I didn't want friendships that weren't with them; I didn't want any replacement; and the reason my friendship with Lynley has flourished is because she wasn't connected to any of that, although she was friends with the ex best friend. She was a grade below and as such, that separated her. My other friends, although they aren't close friends with my best friends, can still talk to them and laugh with them and spend time with them and, really, honestly, I'm jealous. Because I can't even do that, and that hurts, a lot.

Other friendships I've made since then have also been good, refreshing, with no connection. And I strengthened ties with my friends from primary school; one in particular, because they had always been there and I needed someone who was distanced from the situation, physically as well.

I still feel like I could break apart sometimes, at just one word, one movement. And apart from Lynley and my friend from primary school, I haven't let myself become close to anyone. Plus, I find it very hard to trust guys when it gets into any situation of more than friends.

I'm trying to mend myself, and let myself mend. School isn't helping. Seeing them everyday is really not helping. There are a lot of things that aren't helping, I suppose. Take my mum, take the fact that I am far too sensitive to most things.

Can you please for the love of god let me have this one thing??? Untainted??? I can barely take your comments and your opinions on my being with Chris, and does it really matter? He is nice. Really nice. I don't like the majority of his friends, but fuck it, I don't like him for his friends. I like him for him. And whatever your own opinion of him, whatever reason you may disapprove, he is making me happy. He is helping, when so much else isn't.

And I'm over caring what everyone else thinks about it.

Please, please don't ruin this for me. I don't think I can bear one more thing going wrong.

EDIT: [9.48PM] I think I'm definitely going to kill myself. But not. Wow. I can't even explain how scared I am right now. Because.

You know what, I'm not even going to explain.

Because I don't even think I can.

But. My blog may shortly return to private.

kthnxfuckyouall

but not really.

fuckfuckshitfuck

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Braja posted this on her blog.

"Watch your thoughts; they become words.
Watch your words; they become actions.
Watch your actions; they become habits.
Watch your habits; they become character.
Watch your character; it becomes your destiny."
— Lao-Tze

I'm doing something stupid. We all know that. But it's not as bad as you think, if you must know my stance on the matter. When I wrote that a certain guy from school didn't matter because I liked Italics boy [read: him, --> thus Italics boy] I was trying to convince myself. Also because Italics boy was reading my blog at that point, and I didn't want to admit just how much I was attracted to the other guy. And I did like him, a little bit. But shhh.

Now, I really like him. Both of them... [Sorry, this is so long]

I hate being a teenager.

And uh, P.S. I hooked up with both of them.

On the same day.

I know I'm kinda with Italics Boy. But what does that even mean? Admittedly, it took extreme tiredness, prompting from a best friend, and a couple shots of Midori for me to hook up with the other one. Who is a much better kisser, by the way.

I am very confused, but secretly, I think I'm going to end up choosing the boy from school.

Italics Boy has this going for him:

- We have the same family / religious background with the same type of parents in regards to rules, etc.

- He can bear my paranoia really well, so far.

- He's reaaally nice

The cons being:

- I can rarely see him outside of church, with church being a place where I can talk to him for approximately 10 minutes once a week. Not even kidding, since I have other friends / acquaintances to speak to; and since I am now playing flute as part of the music team, that time has been further reduced.

- He gets really annoying sometimes

- He jokes about things I really don't feel comfortable with, such as the idea of me being pregnant...

- He always has so much homework, that we can barely talk. We can't talk on the phone because someone on his family would listen in, having three home phones; and we're not allowed to make calls to mobiles; also both of us are consistently short on [read: completely out of] mobile credit.

Yeah that's it.

He is really nice and stuff. But as for the other guy, who just by the way, seems to at least like me for more than my body. Which, Italics Boy also does, but it feels like it's more about that half the time. Of course, it is nice being told that you're hot. For like, the first three times. Then, it irritates the crap out of me... and makes me angry. But angry in a way where I won't actually say that I am, and then conversation on my side just becomes snappy and the other person is left wondering what the hell happened... Coz I'm like that.

Okay, other guy.

Pros

- He's kinda old school gentleman like. It's cute. Somewhat disconcerting, but then, I do have this expectation that every guy I end up with is using me or something... Even with Jimit, although we were kinda using each other... And then ended up liking each other. Goddamnit I want a conventional love story. The fairy tale kind... Not that I want to fall in love, yet. /runs for the hills.

- He is also really nice.

- Better kisser which doesn't count. Honestly. It's just a fact.

- I can see him all the time.

- Lynley (best friend) approves

- He doesn't care if I kiss [or get incredibly close with, since we are "lesbian buddies". But not really...] Lynley. Just on the lips, since her boyfriend only lets her make out with other girls if he's present. Not that I'm keen or anything... Okay, I am. I'm still perfectly straight.
That seems to be a rule a lot of boyfriends seem to have haha. And is why I should have taken the chance at her birthday party on Saturday where I hooked up with this guy for the first time. Although, Italics Boy definitely wouldn't mind either.

- He sends me cute text messages.

Cons

- He's too cute; for those of you who don't know I get scared off easily. Walking me to my lessons, putting away my books for me, etc. Weird. Cute, but freaky. And yeah, all the sweet stuff. Besides, he likes me a lot; "either way i'm not going down without a fight (: not literally but you get the idea lol (:". He has the advantage of knowing the situation with Italics Boy as well; Italics Boy being in the dark about this development; but he hasn't tried to make me choose him, although as he says, he is "obviously biased".

- That's about it, really. Oh and he tries to kiss me with other people around. Which I'm not comfortable with; but he doesn't do it much; I just care too much about what other people think, etc. And it's just awkward for others.


What I'm really pissed off about is the fact that my friends decided to have what was practically an "intervention", How I Met Your Mother style -



[it's within the last 5 minutes]

Okay, I hear that wasn't quite the plan, but when another three people came out to join the original one who wanted to talk to me, it became an intervention, a la the fabulous show. Without the banner and letters. I'm rather irritated since one of these people isn't someone I even consider to really be a friend of mine anymore; we are more friends of friends because, face it, we drifted poles apart nearly a year ago.

Of course, you could say I'm technically cheating on Italics Boy, that's what I said to this boy from school (who really needs a name) in between kissing him against the wall at Lynley's; but that is technically, since we aren't actually going out. And I have not being going through lots of guys lately. I agree, it would be better if I was the one getting hurt; but, shit. Jimit doesn't count because we were together October last year, at the latest. Cameron was not someone I was ever with. I just wanted to be friends with him, and I had no idea how to respond when he held my hand, put his arm around me, and kissed my forehead. I'm awkward like that. [And holy shit speak of the devil he just came on MSN.] The plan with him is, when I get credit, explain to him that I'm sorry, but I think I gave him the wrong idea, and I really just want to be friends.
Then there was Italics Boy and this guy, almost immediately after each other.

And I tried really hard to not like the boy from school. I kept mentioning Italics Boy, as one of my tactics. Apparently, though, he knew that's why I was doing it, because my feelings were in my eyes. Like I'm not obvious enough otherwise anyway. I tried to just think of him as a friend. But that didn't work so well. I wish he didn't actually like me in return, that he just wanted a hook up that night. But life is never that simple. Although that wouldn't be so simple either.

And thanks for telling him what you told me as well; he already knows the position both he and I are in (No sexual innuendo jokes please!), we have talked about it, and he is willing to wait for me to make my decision, and not try to rush me into it. Either way, he wants us to be friends, although both of us would find that really hard. He doesn't need you telling him what he already knows. By the way, you can tell me what you want, that is your right. Not to tell him your opinion.

I hate this situation in which I find myself (I only just found out today that it is technically incorrect grammar to end a sentence with a preposition, although, yes, I did do this in the previous paragraph). For the last week, I have been wishing that I had met the boy from school just two weeks earlier. Which indicates something about which I might choose... But I am not deciding anything for sure yet! I need a little bit more time.
I did not try to engender this; I didn't ask for it; and I can never help who I like! I'd tried to stop myself liking the ex best friend, I'd tried to stop liking David; either way, I have no control over it. I know, I don't have to follow through on my feelings, but when they are reciprocated... and when I have such terrible self control...

Never good.

Sigh.

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