He wrote me something today...

'Did you catch my name?
I'm the one who's heart you broke
You can call me ____'

I censor things because I'm a paranoid bitch. I don't know what I want. Dreams are killing me.

Two nights ago I was back in the hardest part of my adolescence and he was there instead of the son of a bitch who messed me up in the first place. If I met him first, I don't think I'd be so cynical. I hate looking into things but I've analysed and analysed that dream. I see a little...

I refuse to say what last nights dream was at all. For the sake of this being a censored blog. But oh dear sweet Jesus. I woke up in a state of 'wtf'.

Dearest you, by writting what's on your mind; you're killing me.
Dearest dreams, leave me alone; I barely sleep anymore.
Dearest heart, shut the fuck up; I don't want to hear you.
Dearest readers if you exist, think I'm crazy yet?

I used to be a good girl.

I skipped class today with him because I know he'll listen.

He listens, and talks and sometimes gives bad advice. But even if it's sucky, he tries so I give him points. He's not an asshole, he just has no off button.

I broke up with him because he wasn't perfect. Everyone whispered in my ear 'You can do better, you can do better.' and on some disgusting sick level I know it's true. I hate how some people can be branded better than others. He pissed me off, he was too clingy, too annoying, too close to me for comfort.

And after spending three hours with him I'm brought back to where he and I used to be. I miss it. I hate myself for missing it. He said he was over me today. He said he was over everything and was ready to move on.

If he's fine....why aren't I?

and MEANWHILE

Why do guys think they can get away with constant bullshit!??!? I'm not saying all guys of douchefucks but oh my god; there's this one guy that I could rip his balls off right now and hang them as fuzzy dice on his locker. Don't fuck with my friends-- or I will fuck you up.

Bruises

When we are little and we fall down and get hurt; any owwie can be resolved with band aids or an adult kissing it better. But what happens as we get older? Who will catch us when we fall?Is it our friends who will constantly have our backs? And what if they don't?

Today someone I dislike stronger 'hurt' herself. She 'fell' and 'broke' her ankle. In your senior year of high school this kind of dramatics is just plain annoying. I went to the main office to grab her some ice. I hated doing it, because I knew she was lying. It was beyond fake.

And it made me realise if it was me who had done that, she wouldn't get ice. No one would.

And what happens when your heart hurts? Who kisses and fixes that? Are you supposed to lie there and endure the pain till it goes away? Does it really go away or does time just make it grow numb. You tell me.

I have a heartache, but there's no kisses to make it better.

Coming to Terms

Tonight there was a school dance. I of course wanted to attend, but being 1. Without a date and 2. Not wanting to crash my best friend's date I ended up here, at home, sitting in my room. Not to say tonight wasn't productive.

I waxed my legs, did my bikini line, tweezed my eyebrows, used some pore strips, gave myself a facial, took a bath, puminced my feet then sat my lazy infront of the television to watch more of Sex and the City. So I feel significantly less fabulous than those at the dance (especially since I even bought a dress...) but at least I'm slightly more improved than prior this evening.

While beautifying myself; my phone rang. I didn't have time to catch it. One missed call. My heart pounded. I rushed to facebook like a fool 'hey you, did you call?' and my reply? 'no, i'm watching family guy.' Intelligent. I feel like an idiot. It was probably a friend of mine I'm ditching tomorrow for more productive things-- like going to the gym at the unholy hour of 8 in the morning with my mother then dragging my sweaty ass to David's Tea for some oolang.

And I've finally come to a realisation regarding the whole situation with my ex. So yeah, we did agree to be friends but I think I wanted the friendship more than he does. I think he wants distance. So, I truly believe he won't call me ever again just to say hi. But you know, I think I can be cool with letting go of the friendship too. Next fall I'm heading out into the city for school so there's definantly a place I don't want to be tied down with baggage.

So from this night forward I won't wait for calls. If the lonliness gets too bad, I'll go to bed. If the boredom makes me insane, I'll read more. It's just a question of getting out of the habbit. I've now grown the habbit of buffing my nails before bed. Works for me.

So much for romance.

I should stick to buying shoes.

I sit here again frustrated.
Tonight I will not call.
Tonight I will blog.

I feel so pointless right now. I've seen so many episodes of Sex and the City today that I feel as if I've lost braincells. Carrie Bradshaw is amusing, but I need to stop assuming that her advice is valide in my life. It is not.

There is no excuse for feeling lonely. There just isn't. I should be over this now, considering I dumped him. I'm just feeling overly alone lately.

I need a rebound.

No good guys around me, they're all too emotionally young.

Guys? Anyone?

I refuse to join a dating site.

Telephone.

I'm frustrated. I firmly believe in the half-of-the-time-you-went-out to get over someone. I'm almost there, give me another 4 weeks and I'll be totally over it. I'm just pissed right now. More at myself than anyone else.
I want him to call me. Not because it gives me butterflies, but because I love him to death (platonically) and I want to hear his voice. He makes me laugh.
I called him last night and he left to go play videogames (you really think men have their heads on right? I doubt it.) Boo. I'm losing it.
I refuse to call.
I refuse to call.
I refuse to call.

Think. What would Carrie Bradshaw do? ...she would sit here pondering her options.

FUCK! I hate men. My room looks like insane. I need to clean. I need to brush my teeth...

refhgureigirejgfi
I refuse to call.
I refuse to call.
I'm so calling. Someone stone me.

One shot.

Last night I had the scariest dream I've had in a very, very long time.

I was with my mother and we were taking a short cut through an alley and this man started chasing us. He had huge butcher knives in his hands and he was waving them around at us yelling for our money. My mother ran away without me and I was left standing there. I tried to dodge him but he kept flailling his arms. I threw my wallet at him, but for some reason gravity wasn't working and it landed at my feet. I sprinted. He took my wallet and stopped chasing me. I kept running. I got to a huge door, and I saw my mother. Relief. I got to the door and said "This man took my wallet!" And then I looked up and saw a tall asian man standing in the door. He lifted a gun to me and shot me.

I woke up covered in sweat and out of breath. It felt like there was a bullet hole in my neck for a second, then I rationalized and realised it was a dream. I got out of bed and tip toed across the floor to my mother's room. I could hear her breathing and decided against waking her at 2am for something so ridiculous.

I tried to concentrate on other things and fell asleep a bit later.