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.
However, I currently have no clothes. No clothes! Of course, there is that dress in the above picture, but I'm not keen for Jimit to think I've gone emo or goth... Unless I can get a white/other coloured belt I'm not wearing it out. Plus it's shapeless without one.
I'm also really not in the mood for wearing jeans, since I wear tight skinnylegs every day for school, and I'm way over it at the moment. Pants are too restrictive. I have no good skirts, or at least, no good skirts that have any tops to match them, and all my dresses are over the top. GAH.
And I'm kinda sick of shopping too coz I barely find anything I want, and if I do, it's crazy expensive.
I hate you, clothes retailers. I despise you. No I am not just fussy!
I can't help it, I know I have him. Jimit, I mean. And I want him. He's probably the only decent guy I've been with (I'll explain the Chris thing another time), so a) thanks to my, friend, Becca... who encouraged me to go for it in the first place, even though that was largely because she wanted to get the exbestfriend jealous so we would get together, and b) I'm trying to be really careful.
Since a particular incident, with guys I like, I am kinda... more sexual. Not in a huge way but just a tiny little bit. And the thing is, after this whole mess, I don't want to go that way again for a long time yet. Hooking up is about as far as I want to go, and not even random hook ups.
It scared the shit out of me, kinda, and I find myself wanting even more to be with a guy who I feel safe with. After all, I've known Jimit for years now. He's a great friend and he's amazing. I've liked him before and I don't know if I'm sticking to the reassuring comfort of our relationship or if its our renewed contact when we had lost touch a little for a few months previously, which is really the only reason why we were no longer together, and then of course we moved on.
But like I think I've mentioned, I keep realising that there is far more depth to him than I had initially thought. He's the first guy in a long time who is smarter than me, on a completely intellectual level. Italics Boy and Chris... Ehh. Especially Chris. I like it when I can have a decent conversation with someone.
That's not the problem. I can't quite remember, but I think I may even like him more this time, and I liked him a lot last time, when he was almost the only stable thing in my life. Again, even that is not the problem.
Especially while intoxicated (hey, here's a solution - don't freaking drink!), I go a little bit further than I mean to. I don't know how to explain it. It's more that I imply going further, or something. But I really don't want to! And then I'm scared that if this other person, whoever they may be, at any future time, gets that idea, I will feel bad for implicating that and will go along with it because I don't know how too extricate myself.
I've already decided not to drink with anyone but good friends, and Jimit is a good friend, but it is myself that I can't trust, if I'm honest with myself. Although he isn't like that, what if I then insist on something, god knows what exactly..? Because I can see myself doing that, for the reason that I want to make him happy and "guys want sex" and that whole idea, no matter that I'd rather die.
And then my definite following resentment would result in getting pissed off at him, and that would ruin our friendship. Even though I want more.
I can't get enough of him, of talking to him by phone call, by text, by IM, by Failbook; when I'm around him I want some physical contact all the time, whether it's hugging him, holding hands, or just, any little thing. I like just watching him talk to other people, even though I realise that's creepy. And I want to kiss him, and even when I do it's not enough, and I want more. I want to kiss him until I can't breathe, and apart from the night I first hooked up with Chris (alcohol was involved here too... See a trend?), the last time I wanted that or actually got that was with Jimit, and before that with the exbestfriend. Which was different altogether but let's not go there because that was in a memory collection all on its own and how do I explain that? The roughness of his stupid half grown beard against my palm and the feel of his jawbone beneath that, other hand entwined in his also kinda stupid long hair to keep our heads as close together as possible, with him doing the same, except for, you know, my lack of facial hair... And my hair was a perfectly decent length! I'll stop now because I know, it's sickening, and no one on god's green earth ever wants to know, but in remembering moments like that, how can I argue that I didn't like him as more than a friend?
It sounds so ridiculous I've been trying to avoid the word, but, it's passion. And I never thought I'd like Jimit so much.
This post is so awkward so it's going to end now. ;p
Referring back to this incident, even at the time, in my inebriated state, I knew I was going to regret it. As I have already said. But there is more to it.
I've always wanted to make other people happy. I've always wanted everyone to like me. Even if I didn't like them. I hatehatehate being disliked or looked down on by anyone, and this is often conflicting for me. I'll still often do things I don't want to do and aren't necessarily good for me either, simply because it's what the other person wants. But if you make me feel needed, loved, pretty, wanted, or anything positive, you're almost definitely going to get whatever it is you want. Conversely, I feel guilty very easily so you can play that card too. I know, I should stand up for myself, but I have this slight neediness when it comes to other people... Working on it, kinda.
That night, I remember MF saying that he had hoped this would happen. My mental reaction was to raise my eyebrows, but god only knows what expression was plastered across my face. I remember him saying that he found me really hot and he had wanted to get with me but hadn't expected that he could... I remember thinking that he was just saying this because he really just wanted to get laid but at that moment I would just pretend he meant it and accept it even though I didn't believe it. I remember thinking that I was pathetic to be so desperately needy for compliments and to feel desirable that I would compromise my values and my self-worth just so I could pretend I was wanted for a while.
I remember how gentle he acted and how he looked worried and kept saying he didn't want to hurt me, and yet it was really too late anyway, because it hurt so much, but at the time I didn't care, and I knew that was ridiculous. I remember him saying that he felt bad for me because I kept calling the ExBestFriend and only getting through to his voicemail, and my thinking that he probably actually couldn't care less.
I remember rambling about how I was so very drunk and that I got drunk so fast, thinking that being such a lightweight was embarrassing, and him saying that he wasn't that drunk. I remember hating the idea of that because it was unfair, and he knew what he was doing and that showed his lack of respect for me even though I agreed to it, and because he would be able to better remember it afterwards, when I knew I would want to forget it utterly.
And throughout it all I was trying, and failing, to berate myself for this, wondering why I didn't care at the moment, even though I knew I would later, and trying to make myself so that I would stop; wondering what was wrong with me and how much I would hate myself for this later. But at the time I just didn't care.
And that is what has me so perplexed that I still cannot get my head around it...
ISWEARTOGODITISIMPOSSIBLEFORMETOFINDBRAS. Okay, near impossible. My mum tells me I should quit with the exaggerating, but where's the fun in saying "I haven't seen you in a week", when I can say "I haven't seen you in like, fifty years!"? Lie? Yes. But, entertaining to me for some completely unknown and probably inexplicable reason? Also yes. And that, folks, is what counts. [And yes, I do use "like" far too much in conversation. However, no, I never actually say "folks"...]
Now, I used to like bra shopping. So many pretty bras. Then... Well, I became the bra size that I am today. I actually hate bra shopping. Bras in my size just aren't that common, and even when I do find any that are the right size on the tag, each bra is different blah blah, and more often than not, they don't actually fit me. Apparently big cup size and small chest don't normally go together. You know what I have to say to that? Fuck you, bra makers, and fuck you, 10DD.
I don't want to wear granny bras! Besides, my mother doesn't like to spend over $50 on one bra, especially since I am "still growing" and therefore, she'll need to buy more later on. Uh, mum, I actually still need bras now, even if I will need different sized ones in the future! Just sayin'.
But yesterday, I actually found some that fit and were average looking. I don't care if no one else sees my bras, I freaking know what I'm wearing and I want it to be pretty damnit {I am aware that damnit is actually properly spelled dammit, although it is slang and thus, shouldn't even have a proper spelling, to my mind. However, even though it irritates me, I picked it up off a dear friend and it's one of my ways of remembering him, so forgive me this continual spelling error thing... Oh and P.S. Mozilla Firefox spell check, "spelt" is a word >.<)!
Average looking? That ain't gonna cut it. I don't want to be average, I want to be above average. Although you wouldn't be able to tell by my school work...
You know how sometimes I say that people suck? Well, people make bras. Therefore, people suck.
P.S. Remember how the other day, I was bitching about Lady Gaga? That said, this cover of Poker Face is freaking amazing, and I discovered it all thanks to JoJo at I Once Was Captain of Whatever.
Seriously, take a look. It's pretty cool.
And, FYI, I'm actually getting a B in three out of five subjects this term. Don't ask about German and Biology. ;P Also, thanks to my terrible critical analysis skills, my English grade would have been a C, but my recount and oral and the like brought me up, and then my teacher gave me an extra mark for some reason ;D Must work harder next term.
or, I Feel Slightly Derro Because It Took Till My Jeans Wore Through Before My Mum Would Take Me Shopping
My mum took me shopping at the mall today for an hour and a half before she went to work, because, let's face it, I really needed new jeans. You'd be crazy to deny me that. I'm also low in numbers when it comes to bras, and just, clothing in general. My mother has been convinced that she "bought me clothes only recently" for the past year... Just like she's been saying that she and Dad moved to Australia from India "fourteen years ago" for the past four years. So anyway, in my unending complaints about the fate of my jeans over the last few days, I've been informed that this happens to many people. So it wasn't, as I was worrying, that my legs are huuuuge and thus caused this to occur. Also take into consideration that I wore these near constantly. So, the wearing out justified, I was all good to search for some more. The problem is, it took me a very long time to find these jeans. I'd wanted black skinny's for ages but every pair I tried on made my legs look fat. It was the jeans, of course. Not my legs...
So, after finally finding the perfect jeans that were now torn beyond repair, I was somewhat nervous to look for some black jeans once more. If I seekedsuck?sucked..?oh fuck it: searched, would I find? (Although come to think of it, I really do suck.) It was a question that desperately needed an answer.
It was of some urgency, too, since at school we must wear black pants, and I'm not willing to wear proper school pants, nor trackies. I look utterly slightly ridiculous in both. Anyway, I found a pair pretty much straight off the bat.
It is true, I use nearly every cliche in the book. Even that was a cliche. Was it not? (I wanted to use a cliche just then so it would be funny, but... I kinda really fail at life, like, a lot, so please insert one here)
I wasn't sure about the jeans after trying them on, though, and so, this is the conversation that followed.
Toivoa: "Do these jeans make my legs look fat?" Toivoa's Mum: "Your legs are fat." Toivoa: Should have seen that coming. "Be that as it may, does it make my legs look fat? My other jeans didn't." TM: "That's what you think." Toivoa: How is my self esteem even as high as it is? "Um. Regardless. Do my legs look fat in these jeans???" TM: "Just get them..." "You need to exercise. You eat so much junk." Toivoa: BAH! (I have good mental comebacks. I copyrighted that one, but you can use it if you want. You're welcome.)
These jeans are really tight. When I put my jeans on, I end up doing this dance in which to get my legs through my jeans because it happens to be more interesting than, well, however ordinary people put their pants on. I kick my legs outward like I'm trying to Irish dance like a Leprechaun, or something.
What can I say? I exude awesome. So much awesome my pants can't contain it. (Which is why my previous jeans tore and these ones are so tight... No? No? Fine.)
I should stop that train of thought.
I do often fall over during this process. Come to think of it, I fall over often full stop. Today, while walking in my jeans and wearing heels, I caught one heel in the folded bottom of my other pant leg and fell onto the couch. My sister and her friend were amused. Charming and graceful.
So, due to the tightness, it takes five minutes to do the fly up. Okay, that's a lie. It does, however, take longer than doing up one's fly ever should. That much is true. I don't really do much to support my "my legs aren't fat" argument, do I?
Although here, my hips are the problem. Okay, so I may as well be screaming, "Hey, it's not just my legs that are fat, but my hips and probably the rest of me too!", but I've never been one to refrain from saying something because it will shoot down my own argument... I'm sorry? Me, illogical and somewhat lacking in brain cells?
... yeah, that sounds about right.
However, I did get the jeans! Then began bra hunting. But I'll leave that for tomorrow...
P.S. On a completely different note (and sorry about this), the shocking state of our world never ceases to horrify me. I can't quite comprehend how a person could reach this point in life. Committing suicide is a horrible enough thing, but deciding to take other people with you, innocent people who you do not even know, who have nothing to do with your situation; that bewilders and sickens me. It makes me so sad.
EDIT (11.53PM): And on another note entirely, I still freaking like Chris. A lot. Can someone tell him that? Since he doesn't seem to know and I don't even see him or get to talk to him, really... I'm so confused!
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.
Currently writhing in the grip of a fearsome headache. Okay, so it's not that bad, but I am assured that my head will shortly explode, with fragments of brain matter and bone splinters splattering the room. All my work on my English Supporting Study for a novel I have come to passionately hate will be soaked through with my blood, impossible to read.
I swear.
I have been minimising sleep for homework's sake. And my reluctance to cut myself off from other human contact. I just... don't want to be alone. This lack of sleep is causing my headaches. Thankfully, the holidays are but a week and a half away. This study, in which we read and thoroughly annotate everything we can find in the novel, is huge. And due tomorrow. I am approximately halfway through. Themes, author's style, structure, perspective, language, techniques, notable quotes; all to be taken down. It is an exhaustive process, and with the pain of this headache that seeps through every level of my consciousness, I am currently not making much headway. I do not take painkillers after all my instances of overdosing on them, I am far too sensitive to the feeling of it moving through my body, making me feel spaced out, to be able to touch the stuff. My other usual option is to have really strong coffee, but after the incident the other day, I am keen to minimise all caffeine intake.
However, my introduction in my draft for a major essay in another subject was said to be brilliant by the teacher, so I'm pretty thrilled with that. I am determined to do well in the subjects I can now, and pick up in the others over the holidays.
And one thing that makes it all better is currently talking to the ex best friend. Crappy conversation. But it is, after all, who it's with that matters. Even if he is no longer my best friend. He still is himself. And that's why I love him.
I talked to him today, at school. Properly. More than a hello. I didn't even realise until an hour later. I was very tired and distracted at recess, and it was the first time I'd seen him in person since he got his hair cut. It's much shorter than it's been in the longest time, and I was curious, having seen a picture over MSN the night he'd had it cut. I just walked up to him and started rambling about how short his hair was, and not much else. I was also thrown off balance by the fact that Chris was back at school. When I did realise that I had actually talked to the ex best friend, I was slightly shocked. I FREAKIN TALKED TO HIM.
Anyway, Chris is back at school after... two weeks? A bit less, I think. I don't know. It was weird. I had gotten used to things without him. I talked to him a bit, but I was like we were just friends. Maybe it will take a while. I don't know. I don't want to be in a relationship. I hate the idea of it, I'm soo not ready. What am I fucking doing? No idea.
I'm planning on concentrating on schoolwork. It is year twelve, after all. Important. And I want a very high score.
But really, I just want to immerse myself in schoolwork so that maybe I can forget about them.
I don't want to isolate myself though, I went through that for a couple of months last year, and I can't do it. It may recede for a while, but I have a social nature and I care about people and I don't want to let them go. It would be stupid to add to what I have lost.
My head hurts.
P.S. [11.04PM] I think my heart just melted. Sure, my head is still exploding, but my conversation with the ex best friend... We were talking about a band that had memories from our friendship, and I couldn't help myself, I mentioned one of my favourite memories with him that was connected to a song by the band. It was this one night when we had gone for a walk, and went to a local primary school, and sat on the roof together. I said it was "good times" and then added "just randomly.", so that he didn't have to respond to the thought. He said "it was".
I practically melted into the ground. It just, means so much to me that a memory that I treasure meant something good to him. He's not just like "yeah, whatever. It was okay but I don't really care, that's all in the past". I mean, he's probably like that too. But he's not the most verbose of people, and the fact that he said it was a good time makes me happy in a sad, nostalgic way...
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.
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.
[Guys, I've written a new story on my other blog, Head in the Clouds. If you can and would like to, please take the time to check it out and even leave your comments, opinions, and constructive criticism? That'd be great, since I'm as unsure about it as ever. I'm aiming to write properly more regularly again as well, if you're interested. (:]
Today was good. The results for my latest Maths test turned out to be 52% (55 for a pass), but I've done well in other tests so far and my overall term grade is 74%, a B. Next term I'm going to make up the 11 percent needed to get an A. As for a majorly important Biology test I was worrying about; turns out I scored 82%. I was so incredibly relieved and excited at this. After school I went to my best friend's house for a few hours; she doesn't go to my school. So that was good.
But the best thing about today so far was a simple smile.
The ex best friend and I are in some weird territory at the moment; if you read back a couple of months, you'll see that we are talking slightly once again, mainly on MSN and greeting each other when we pass by at school. That had stopped for a while, and then has begun again over the last few weeks. I doubt I've written about it, because I don't want to hope that anything will come of it. Today, it went beyond that. It was nothing, really. And yet, it is everything to me; I could not keep from smiling for hours afterward. He smiled at me.
He's not the kind of person who smiles all that often, in fact he has said repeatedly that he doesn't like to. He also sent me an email saying hi yesterday at school, which I only read when I checked my inbox today. We used to talk all the time through emails at school. Sometimes texts, and then during Supervised Study (a crappier version of a free), I'd try to get to a computer so we could talk cheaply via email. We spent so much time together. Walking to and from school, sneaking out at night for walks, recesses and lunch, ditching class for a few minutes or completely on a number of occasions, talking on MSN each evening, going to town together on Saturdays, and having text conversations in between. Emailing during school was a huge part of this.
He smiled at me. The realisation only seeped into my mind as I walked away, and for the remaining lessons I had, I was very happy. I know I kept breaking into smiles like an idiot as I walked home by myself, and it was one of the first things I said to my best friend once I saw her. Talk about making my day. Although he always has. Well, either made or broken, if he was sad or angry.
And I've been letting myself imagine us becoming friends again. He's initiating all this. And I want this so much. I imagine having good conversations with him once more, spending time with him, hanging out for him, sneaking out for walks with him, just once in a while, and his hugs. He gives really good hugs. If I could have him back, even just as a friend; I can't let myself think about best friends, I don't think I could contain my happiness. Even without the other two (it's so hard to refer to them on here because I have no names for them), just having him at least would make everything better. I had completely given up on this, but ohmygod he fucking smiled at me today!
It's like I have a huge pathetic celebrity crush view towards him. Like ohmigod he smiled at me!!! I'm so lame ;P But it's more important than any crush. Because he was my best friend. Friends are more important than guys, like that. And I am so excited at the possibility of being his friend again, as much as I try to temper it. He was an amazing friend. He's not necessarily easy to be friends with, and at times was even kinda scary when he was angry, but I loved him and love him and maybe maybe he will love me again sometime. He means the world to me.
I'll be honest, if I was to cheat on Chris with anyone, it would be him. If he kissed me again, I would kiss him back. There would be almost no question of pulling away, although I would, after a while, because he iswas (get a grip Toivoa) just my best friend and Chris is my boyfriend or something or other. Just my best friend? Hah. Not many more people are of more importance to me than him. I couldn't miss him anymore than I do. I would do anything for him, anything to make him happy.
But it won't happen, kissing him. We've been through that. I don't even know if we'll ever be able to call each other best friends again. All I know is that I want this with every fibre of my being, every macromolecule in my body, every cell and protein and organelle, with every homologous chromosome and every other biological thing within me. ;D I want this so badly, and I know I felt this way when he first began speaking to me again, but I can't stop to let myself be scared at it going wrong. I've gone so many sleepless nights reliving the memories, cried so many tears and felt physically ill or in pain due to missing him so utterly; and in keeping with the Backstreet Boys, "All I'm going to be without you him is incomplete..."
To the others, these are painfully fitting; "What do you do At this very moment when I think of you? I still need you I still care about you Though everything's been said and done I still feel you Like I'm right beside you But still no word from you. Instead of moving on, I refuse to see That I keep coming back And I'm stuck in a moment."
Teenagers may "scare the living shit" out of Gerard Way and co., but for me I get that from children at a much younger stage in their lives. Toddlers. They're terrifying! Don't get me wrong, I love kids. No, that's a lie. It would be more correct to say "I love kid". I'm all cool with them when they are in the singular, or perhaps even two together are okay, and I know them on a personal level. When I have actually met them and get to hang out with them and read them storybooks and play their little games and kowtow to their every whim in the hopes of keeping them from screaming uncontrollably. To be fair, perhaps I don't like the competition. I throw pretty big tantrums... But in a hormonal teenager kinda way. You know, the way that would scare the living shit out of My Chemical Romance...
Anyhow. It is the mobs, the hordes, of the little things that cause me to shudder and cringe. [Isn't horde spelt "hoarde"? No, Mozilla Firefox spell check? >.< ...okay.] For example, the horde in the kindergarten that I must pass as I walk home from school every day. In the morning it's fine since they're either arriving or inside, I don't know and I don't really care. It's in the afternoon that they are out in the garden area to play, feeding off each others' boundless energy.
And as their parents pick them up, letting one or two out through the gate in order to take them home (God knows why), I have been known to let out a scream and jump a mile high when one has run past me in their eagerness and probably on a sugar high... I didn't know it was there! And suddenly a little thing shot past me. You'd scream too. Really.
Note how I refer to them as "it" and "thing". Those children are not humans, I swear. Even when in the singular, I do not know them and if they are not within a centimetre's reach of a parent, I do not like them. I do not trust them. They may look cute, sure, but. They are evil. I dare you to convince me otherwise.
Oh, apart from the ones in the library that run to see Solomon the snake in his cage, peering through the glass on tip toes, eager to see him move. That's just funny, entertaining, and I like those ones because they're not scared of snakes. And yes, I still call them "those ones". They can be assigned genders and proper human status when they're older. ;P
Another reason for my specific dislike of the children at this kindergarten in particular - once, while walking past with my sister, a bunch of them lined up at the fence, holding the bars like little prisoners, as they are prone to do. One dropped their hat outside the bars so I picked it up and returned it to them. (I may not like them but I am nice...) On seeing this, the other fiendish minions decided that this was a brilliant new game, and so, to the sounds of delighted peals of laughter, promptly began throwing their hats through the bars for my sister and I to return. I gave up quickly and began to walk off but my sister, helpless and beguiled by their youth and seeming innocence, continued to try to return their hats, fighting a losing battle. It took much urging on my part to bring her to leave. Evil and conniving.
Anyone else have tales of run ins with the evil ones of that age? No? Fine. I stand by this.
I do want to have my own children some day, but for now I'm not really keen on those stages... Hopefully by the time this comes around, I'll have changed my mind.
Don't even get me started on all the other major flaws I see in the process, and fears; such as the eugh-ness of being pregnant, not to mention GIVING BIRTH (I think my mind just died a little at the thought), and what if I had an ugly baby? Even worse, what if when it grew up and through adolescence and its teenage years, it was ugly? I'm not just being superficial here, although, well, I am; but it would most likely get a lot of shit from other people. People are mean. Look at me. And if it was stupid? So many complications, so many variables... That said, I disagree with the concept of Designer Babies.
So I have an essay to write and this post is essential pointless meaningless rambling; as per most of posts, come to think of it. Maybe I should work on the content of this blog... That's what tomorrow's for. Probably for that essay too...
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.
...you won't be here by my side, all of a sudden I feel hollow..."
I think I'll lock my heart away in a glass case. It's best for me, and you. Still beating, of course. I want to stay alive, at a distance. Can that work? I can try.
You don't want to hear it, and even if you did, I can't talk about it, any of it. Not anymore. And not even that. I don't trust half of you anymore. What happened to us? I miss those times when we were all so close, and you were less critical, more understanding, when I was so innocent, although I didn't know it. When I had ethics I would hold to. When we understood each other, and actually gave a crap.
I feel like I'm trapped by all the things I can't say, for all the different reasons. I want someone to talk to. Do you know how much I want someone I can talk to about most things? I don't have that. Sure, there's Lynley, Kathleen. Even Nick. But, it's not the same, you know? People aren't replaceable.
It's like I've imprisoned myself with everything I've said and done, and I've used others to hurt me without even knowing I was doing it at the time, and let others hurt me and I don't know why and I have no idea where I am. I'm stumbling all over the place, going backwards, in circles, straining forward and sometimes even moving in that direction. But from watching me, you'd think I'm a blind man struggling to find his way. Which is pretty close to the truth, just make that blind man female. And I see fine, physically. The worst of it, though, is thinking that I'm alright, that I'm okay, and trying not to look too closely. Because when I do, I see all the bars and fences and the traps that I have set, and none of these barricades are crumbling, the only thing that is crumbling is me.
Oh god. I have no idea what I'm doing. I'm scared to look at myself because I'm so hollow; at times bear any physical form of contact because the heat of another person or even my hand against my arm was too much, I thought it might burn through the cardboard cutout and expose the lack of anything inside. I can't hide my own emptiness from myself all the time, it's tiring. It's not easy to continually lie to yourself. But I don't think I have any other option. I can't let myself fall apart like I did towards the end of last year. I don't want to come home from school every day and cry uncontrollably for hours. I don't want to scream at everyone over nothing. I don't want to lose my desire to live. I really think I'm secretly already back there. Maybe I never left. But I convinced myself I did. I think I did. I was/am getting better. But there's a part of me that stayed there all of this time, hurting and crying, and another part that's numb, perhaps beyond revival. And they drag me back.
I have no idea. Of anything. I want to walk through the next few years with my earphones in and my music up full blast, and come out on the other side and pick up my life and get on with it. But I can't because if I take a holiday from life right now, in a few years it will just be more of a mess. I just want to leave. I just want to leave! Just for a little while.
But, for you anyway, I'm going to pretend I'm fine. As much as I can. I'm getting better at it. Hiding it. But this blog is the one place I can scream and vent and cry as much as I am able, so for those of you I see most days, detach that me from this one. We're not the same. She's a lot more fake.
Pretend she's real though, okay? For me? For you? No matter how hard she has to force her smile. I owe that to you, at least.
EDIT (10.56PM) : Getting drunk is stupid (just trawling through memories). Why do I do it? I shall refrain. At least from getting really drunk. Stupidstupidstupid. Ugh.
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.
"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 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 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...
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