A Hard Week

I don't know where to begin on this one. This week has been a week of ups and downs as my boyfriend said last  night. For the both of us, really. We have gone through some really happy moments together and we have recieved some hard news together as well. All of this and we are three and a half hours away from each other.

I don't even know how to say what it is that's bothering me because I have spent eighteen years learning how to sheild myself from other people. I know this blog is to help me let things out but I still have trouble loosening my ties.

First bad news we recieved is that when my boyfriend comes to visit tonight, he will be staying at his aunt's house an hour away rather than with us because my mom is afraid that my younger brother will tell miy dad that she let my boyfriend stay in the house with us. To me, this is rediculous. I don't understand what is wrong with a guy and a girl, no matter their relation, staying in the same house. Staying in the same room is not appropriate (though I would love that) and I can understand a parent's view on that but the same house!? I don't see what's wrong with that.

The second bad news we had to handle was the decision we made together to not move in together when I turn 18. We origionally had planned to get me out of my father's house as soon as I was legally old enough to leave because of the treatment I recieve there. However, many of the people in the town that I live in have it in their heads that the only reason I am moving out is to be with my boyfriend. Because this is the view of most people, my decision has changed. I've lived with the treatment for my whole life, I suppose I ccan stand to wait 5 more months until I graduate. I know it is the more responsible thing to do but I really think that my mental, emotional, and physical health are things I am responsible for as well.

The third news we had to conquere was the possibility that my boyfriend might not get to come see me for the weekend of New Year's and my 18th birthday dinner. He has one last payment to make on a hot check from a few years ago and the gas from our hometown to my mom's house is really expensive. The money he made working hasn't been enough to cover both the payment and the trip. His parents have agreed to help him for now but he has to pay them back. I think that is perfectly understandable.

Next, on the same day that he and his parents got in that argument, he discovered our puppy dying in his back yard. That experience has been traumatizing for the both of us on a deeper level than either of us expected.

After all of our problems got sewed together just enough that we could still look forward to seeing each other tonight, I found out that I might not get to see him fro my New Year's kiss. My family has a tradition of going to see the Dallas Stars New Year's Eve game and we have only ever stayed to watch the fireworks once. However, tonight, my mom might want to stay and if she does, then I won't be able to see my boyfriend.

I know I sound a lot like a whining little kid pining for my boyfriend like this but we have both had a very hard year and it means so much to the both of us to start this new year together. We want to be together the moment the new year begins. This is our chance to make everything better and we don't want to miss the signifigance of that sealing moment. I know that the actual moment the year begins has no effect on how the year plays out but we want to have that memory to cherish together.

Throughout all of this we have had moments where we have been completely happy talking to one another over the phone. Simply enjoying talking to a person that you know so well. We have had fun talking about our little inside jokes.

I have hated this entire week. The worst news I recieved was that my baby little puppy died. I miss my baby Belle so much and I don't even know what to do. I'm so far away. I wasn't there to see her one last time. I wasn't there to pet her and make her comfortable. I just want to see my baby again.

I just want this next year to come out better.

About Belle

My boyfriend and I have a puppy. Her name is Belle and she is a pit bull. She is black and white and has the most relaxed temperment of any dog I have ever met. She is the sweetest dog I know and wants nothing more than to be played with and then held and petted. When I pick her up shesimply flops into my arms. She was getting so big the last time I did it that I showed dificulty in supporting all of her at once. We love our Belle. She is the first thing we have together, as a couple, that we share. She is our baby and we have spoiled her to no end.

Belle died today.

It took 3 hours. Only three little hours. That's only 180 minutes.

I am three and a half hours away from her and my boyfriend right now. Igot a text while I was in a movie theater. When the movie ended, I got out and read this message:

Baby belle is dying and i dont know wat to do shes stiff and her gums are white and her eyes are glazed over

I am three and a half hours away from her. I can't do anything. I immediately called my boyfriend to ask how she was. He told me that she was dead. They had buried her. He still had her collar in his hands.

I remembered all the dreams I had with her in them. All the happy things I wanted to happen. She was our first puppy and I was going to raise her with him. We would still have her when we moved in together. She would live with both of us instead of only at his house. We were going to spoil her. We wanted to make her our life. I thought of all those images; laying on the couch against him, petting her. Feeding her in the mornings and at night. Letting her sleep on the bed with us. Going to play with her outside.

Now all of these dreams are shattered.

I regret not playing with her enough. I regret not spending more time with her outside.

She was only a puppy. We don't know what happened to her. Only that it took 3 hours. Three hours between my boyfriend's sister playing with her, and him going outside to play with her, searching for her frantically, and finding her curled in the corner of the fenced yard seconds from death. I just want her back now.

Almost-Worst Nightmare

Dreams freak me out. I hate/love the way anything happens but it all seems so right, like that's the way it's always been. This particular dream, though, caught my worst fear in it's most realistic moments and I almost cried in fear. The only thing that kept me sane was that it was only a dream...

I could see the bright, airy light streaming through my window but I couldn't see any shadows. The sun's light seemed to be emminating from everywhere and nowhere all at once. It was bright and cheery and I settled into it's comfort. I was laying in my bed, propped on some pillows, facing my open door when I heard a voice down the hall say "She's in there."
I saw a shape come around the corner with his head bowed. John* walked shyly into the room and paused halfway to my bedside.
"I'm sorry for what I said about you before. I didn't realize that you, or he, would take it so personally."

My dream seemed to continue but pause. You know how dreams are, time bends. I remembered distinctly something that really did happen the day before, I had found out that John had said some crude and vulgar jokes about me, regarding my passing out at the doctor's office, to my boyfriend earlier that day. It had hit me hard and I had become angry with him. The next time he tried to talk to me, I promptly ordered him to 'fuck off'. He told me that he thought the joke was funny and that if I didn't then it was my problem. I said I took it offensively and did NOT like it at all. I hadn't talked to him since then.

I heard my voice around me but I couldn't feel my lips move, nor had I told them to. However, the voice carried on, "It's ok, I forgive you." And with that I saw my arms rise offering him a hugging embrace. I never told my arms to move! I'm still mad at him! Why is my dream-self forgiving him? Never the less he shuffled forward and layed his head on me in the most pathetic hug. He practically curled up on me right there! My right arm was holding him and I had completely disregarded my left to the point that I can't remember what happened to it.
My dream took a sharp turn when John started kissing my arm pathetically. In the real world this, for one, would never have happened, and for two, would have freaked me out on a very deep level. However, in dream world, my dream-self disregarded it and simply sotthed him away from it like a sobbing clid trying to whipe his nose on his shirt. I shooed his face away with gentle authority. Next thing I know he is turning his face up and starring at my breasts. He turned his face into my stomach again and whippered a muffled "I love you." This did freak me out in my dream and I gently pushed him up and away saying that I forgave him but that he really needed to go. He tried to protest with small, sobby words and pleaded with his eyes but I told him I was done. He shuffled out of my room, again looking torn, pathetic, and grief-ridden.
The way he left had my dream-self in such a tift that I decided I would get dressed and go outside where I just knew (for some odd dream-reality reason) there were a lot of people basking in the eminating light.

Just as I was clumsily slipping my jeans on, (geeze,even in my dreams I'm clumsy!) I heard three voices in the hall. I recognized one as a sniffling John, the other two I couldn't quite place. One of them was familiar and the other I was sure I didn't know. John huffed and quietly said, "I just love her so much." The other two voices conversed and exchanged words that I caught very few of, 'hold', 'quiet', and 'we know' were all that I could decifer from their mumbles. I had no idea what they meant but they scared me and made me move faster to get dressed.

I was buttoning my jeans when out of the corner of my eye I saw their shadows come into view of my doorway. I stood to face them, ready for anything. I saw John's eyes first. They were tear stained with heart break and anger fueling his manic look. His expression changed to panic and his eyes flashed from me to my bed and back. Though he had tears coming out of his eyes, his voice clearly ordered,"Get her!"

I knew then what they were going to do and I was NOT going to stand by and let my worst fear happen to me. I ran past them and dodged their arms as I reached the end of the hall. I took a turn and went to the back door. The layout of the house was familiar. I remember now that it was my mom's house, but when I looked outside it was my father's family and friends that I saw. Never the less, in dream world, anything happens. My heart was punding when I stepped outside, searching frantically for safety. I saw my dad and step mom sitting on a round pallet of concrete. There was a long, narrow sidewalk looking path leading from the back door over to them in a winding patturn. I started to walk down it towards my dad. I felt the tears whell up in my eyes as I whispered "Daddy".

I just want to inform everyone that my dad and I don't have the best relationship and we have a lot of trust issues. He is never the person I go to talk to when I have a problemand even my dream-self felt this. The entire time I was walking down that path I was debating on whether I should tell him or not. I never come to my dad crying and I most definately never whisper to him like that. The last time I was crying and pleaded to him like this, he rejected me saying that I had messed up too bad. This was what I was fearing when I went to him in my dream.

I dropped to my knees in front of him and though he scoffed, thinking I was about to tell him something I had done that would get me in trouble, I leaned forward anyway and put my arms aound his shoulders. I was crying so hard that I could barely talk. Slowly though, I managed to choke it out of myself. "I was-I wa-They-I-They-They nearly-I-rape-They-They nearly raped me."

The words came out and I felt him stiffen. I started crying again and I lost track of everything. Next thing I know, I look up and I am in my boyfriend's lap. I asked, "How did I get in your lap?" in a whisper but he only 'shhhh'ed me and told me it would all be ok. I saw my dad standing next to us. He was asking questions to someone but I couldn't hear them and I didn't know the other person.

I turned my face back to my boyfriend and the tears whelled up agian. I hid my sobbing eyes in his shoulder and stayed there for an eternity.

I woke up.

I was still in my own bed. Time was real. The dream never happened. I sighed a breath of relief and closed my eyes again.

Oh Me! Oh My!

Today I went to the doctor (the reasoning of which I am not comfortable discussing to any person) and in the end I had some blood work done.

I am afraid of needles you idiot nurse!

I can't look at a needle or watch it go in or I will freak out, however, once I feel the pinch, I'm fine because it's the puncture that bothers me, not the needle itself.

Finally I managed to calm myself in my hard, plastic, grey chair and concentrate on the the stupid little sign beside me. I felt her cold fingers through her latex gloves and then the little pinch of the needle entering my tissue. Whew. The worst was over. Thirty seconds later and her voice chirped about like a bird's exclaiming that I was all done. I got up seeing a few spots but when about gathering my gloves and jacket.

I left the room and when back to the main waiting room where my mom was getting ready to pay out. I plopped myself into a seat fealing a little woozy and unstable. When I got up to leave my vision swam with blackness, I managed to get out the door and that is where my knees were too weak to hold me up anymore. I sat down right there on the floor. My mom asked me if I was alright or if I needed to go lay down. I started to protest when my vision began to swim again and I opted to go lay down in one of the exam rooms. My mom helped me through the doors of the waiting room again and sat me in a chair to fetch a nurse to help me and to find an empty exam room.

She returned and told me to go with her. I was still feeling resiliant so I stubbornly stood up as quickly as my blood would let me and walked forward, determined to make it through the waiting room without drawing too much attention to myself. My memory was getting fuzzy and I was walking in a haze but I made it through the doors alright. Once through the doors I started to feel myself fall. My mom, who was already on my side, moved to catch me from the front where the nurse helped put my arms over her shoulder. My memory here is very slight and I only remember the smallest details. My boots were making the most unbearable sound as the were drug, toes down, across to short-ply, doctor's-office, horribly patturned carpet. My mom was explaing to the nurses that she was accustomed to dealing with these kind of moments, only she was used to animals due to the fact that she works as a nurse at a veterinary clinic. The next thing I know, everything is black and I feel like I'm sleeping.

You know, the feeling you get when you are barely on the edge of consiousness? Your brain is starting to fuctions one cell at a time but you can still feel that your body is shut down. You feel heavy as a lead weight and fluid. Everything is fuzzy and you can't tell if it's a dream, a memory, or something happening around you.

I heard voices around me and felt hands on my arms but at the same time I didn't. They were there but they weren't there. Just like dreams. The moment you try to catch one, it disappears. I heard a voice that sounded like it was trying to be loud but was too far away to make any difference.

Like a person trying to yell ferociously from a hill away. By the time it reaches you it sounds level pitched.

The voice was saying, "Can you hear me? Can she hear me?"

Thats when the cold burnign sensation started. I felt it in my whole head first, then just my face, and finally just my nose as it faded. Sluggish words came bubbling out of my mouth. None of them were too kind, either.

I heard myself gurgle something about "What the hell did you put in my nose?" and "Fucking hot shit in my face burning!" and "Why the hell are you all yelling at me?"

I felt hands putting towels under me and I started to feel really cold on the backs of my thighs. They laid a wet rag over my chest and forhead and over my arms.

The nurses told me to open my eyes and try to keep them open. Couldn't they see I just wanted to sleep!? I tried to do what they said though. My arms were so hot and my hands were vibrating with numbness. My limbs were heavy and my stomach felt uneasy.

A straw was stuck near my face and I was instructed to 'drink' immediately. I felt the fruitpunch flavored juice enter my mouth, slide over my tongue, down my throught, and settle in my stomach rather cooly.

After the nurses were convienced that I was ok, they left the room one at a time. My mom sat in the corner beside my exam table I had somehow gotten on looking at me with curious eyes. I choked out a "What did ya'll do, stick wet towels under my butt?" Meaning it as a joke. However, she just shook her head and watched as my eyes got big when I realized what had happened. I mouthed to her, unable to say it out loud out of sheer embarassment, "Did I pee on myself?" She nodded sadly and said, "We are only 20 minutes from the house, do you mind waiting here while I go get you a change of pants?"

Well DUH mom! Go get the pants!

I said, "Sure, go ahead, I'll just take a nap. By the way, what happened?"

"While you were out, the nursees took your blood pressure and it was at 89/56. Your blood pressure plummeted after only 3 or 4 minutes of getting your blood drawn. Our best guess is that you are so small that your body reacted to the blood loss violently and rapidly."

I laid there on that table for about an hour waiting for my pants and thinking about everythign that happend. So that is what it feels like to pass out? Interesting.



So, in other words: Today I got my blood drawn for the first time, and due to my small size, my body didn't like it much and I also passed out for the first time in my life. I think it was quite the experience.

No Need To Say Goodbye

It's been so long since I've posted that I'm not sure where to begin.

I'll start simple, with a quote from a text I recieved from my boyfriend:

"I will love you forever; we will be sitting on the edge of a cloud watching the sun rise the day after eternity"

My life is changing right now, and changing fast. Things are whirring around me and all I want is to slow down. Alas, life continues on and one day Ii can only hope I learn how to catch up. Until then, enjoy my little muses! Perhaps I will try to keep up with this again......

Head Space (Meditation)

I recently (as in about an hour ago) discovered the effects of a successful meditation. I'm not talking about religious meditation or anything spooky with floating candles or deep emotional revelations. Satisfactions reveal themselves in simpler and smaller packages. I had to create a method of meditation suited for me based upon what I have read about other meditators and their experiences.
Stripping my comforter to the back of my bed over my pillows was only the first step. I covered everything with my top sheet creating a grey surface for me to connect to. I had my large bed flat with it's grey sheet and a large inviting mass against the footboard covered in the other grey sheet. Grey is my color because of my natural artistic eye, grey naturally calms me. Grey is the most nuetral I can get next to pure white. However, grey is a smoother color, a little more loving to me, a little less hospital sheet-ish. Music poured from my laptop to my headphones to sooth my racing mind. I chose melodies with gentle percussion and complex and playful lyrics. Strictly instrumental would have left me dead. My legs crossed and my back straitened so that I could feel as whole as possible. I focused my attention on the point of symmetry on my headboard. I slowed my breathing and deepened each breath. I let my eyes focus on the point as my mind concentrated on my breathing until I felt I was completely in control of my body.

I closed my eyes slowly and simultaniously with a smooth intake of breath. I kept my concentration on my breathing, trying to create and maintain a rhythm while I shifted my focus from the point on the bed to the weightlessness of my body. Particularly the points at the balls of my shoulders. I felt my body lose pull and shifted my center of gravity upward. I kept my focus on my wheitlessness until I had lost all feeling of attachment to my body completely. I concentrated on my breathing for a while longer and reveled in my moment of floating unimbodied for just a few seconds before turning my attention elsewhere.

I imagined I was in a space. An empty space, void of anything solid. No walls, no furniture, no anything. My body, the sound of the music with no source, and the nothing was all that I had. Colors changed with the movement of the music. Slowly I shifted my empty space into a personal location. I tried and island at first, with short grass and sandy beaches. Water makes me uncomfortable so I extened the land and let the grass grow tall until I had a field made in various shades of dancing yellows, greens, browns, limes, and greys. I felt the warmth of a fire and looked to see a large sun beaming overhead. My element is earth and I have a warm personality so it only makes sense that my closest second element would be fire. Once I had my location created I just lay in it, memorizing it. I memorized the feel of the sun on my skin, the smell of the grass in my face and against the back of my head as I let it mingle with my hair spread out around me on the ground. I soaked in the every detail of each individual blade of grass tall and slinder and graceful as a trained dancer. I remained in my feild until I felt I was 'done'. I could tell because I was slowly becoming more aware of physical things that were not in my imagination. I finally let go of my image and took one deep breath. I opened my eyes as slow as possible in time with the release of my last breath taken in my field.

My vision was slightly blurry and I felt light and then suddenly everything came into a sharp and harsh focus while the full weight of my body made itself known again. I am back in the real world but I feel calmer and cleaner with the memory of my field.

I'm going to visit my field again tomorrow when I wake up. I feel it will be a great way to start my day.

If anyone has any suggestions to help me meditate more successfully then I am open to change. Just please remember that I am aiming to use meditation as a temporary escape into a clearer part of my mind, not a way to get deeper thoughts on the problems I already have. Deeper thoughts is the problem I am trying to escape with this. Perhaps after I get used to meditaion and the calm I feel then I can use it to help me solve problems in a more rational way or to keep me stable every day. I feel like it's a great way to, for lack of a better way to say it, detox my mind.

Classroom Samba

Wake up! It's time for your day to begin and everything is crashing onto your head from the sky. My life is in it's fast forward moment and everything is pushing to be in the front of my attention. I am losing my mind and I don't know how to control everthing I am doing. Yet somehow, in the middle of me not knowing how to control it and worrying about everything falling apart, I find that I have somehow managed to make it through this far at least.

I feel that I am a very mature and very adult teenager with more work than I should have to worry about, yet I am still so young and immature. I am locked in a strange place where nothing fits. I am living a college girl's life in highschool. Though I should only expect as much, I have always been about a year or two ahead of everyone in my generation.

I hate that I am always worrying about everthing I have to do. Right now I really don't have too much going on, but it is the thought of everything that worries me most. I have a habbit of piling everything together into one bundle so that I feel more busy than I really am. As though I am torturing myself with scheduals.

The prospect of the next year frightens me and I keep going over it in my head:

Keeping a job with limited time and lack of sleep while attending duel credit college courses during other classes that are going to be difficult. Trying to get into college by piling every possible thing on top of my already obese schedual so that I might seem more appealing. Head of the Annual Staff and running for Class President for second year. The need to build my portfolio so that when I do find a school to go to, I will have something to show of myself. Trying to keep a healthy relationship with my family while also going against their wishes in where I choose to attend college. Keeping up my title as Miss Throckorton and always looking like I just walked out of a fashion-boutique/salon/spa. Not to mention the addition of UIL and other extra activities. Though, I am smart enough to realize that I do not have enough time to participate in any sports. Not only do I have to keep my grades in tip top shape, but I also have to keep enough hours at my low-in job to pay for my truck and my food and my college courses.

When I look at all of this at once and then add all the little stuff in between, I start to freak out and think that I don't have enough hours in a day to keep everything in line.

I need a planner.

Though I feel pressured, I cannot wait for school to start because for some strange reason, i enjoy the pressure of trying to make sure everything runs smoothly. Being the top student in the school and a senior with high priorities, I have to make everything I do look as effortlessly as slurping jello.

Quick! Catch that Sale!

August 9th, 2009; it has been so long since I left a post online! I feel like I have neglected any readers I might have! Do I see any hands coming up? No? Oh well, that's fine.

Anywho, on with what I am wanting to post.
I have decided to give up on looking a certain way everyday. I have tried so many different times to look like the 'punk girl' or the 'boho girl' or the 'fashionable girl' and I just got so tired of trying to be one of those everyday. So I have come to the conclusion that I will wear whatever mood I am in when I wake up. Whether that be black eyeliner and chains or a ruffled blouse with curls and pink flowers.






























I simply love that last one.


I am one of the unfortunate that live in a far-away little town in the middle of nowhere. I have limited shopping options as well as a fashionably cripple society. How do I keep up my style and sense of adventure? Don't look now! It's smart shopping!
Everyone knows that the smart way to shop is on sales racks and clearance shelves but nobody wants to wear last season's fashion, right? That's what I thought. However, there is a way to take those clothes and make them work for any time of year. Take the sales at the end of summer where everyone is trying to make room for the winter line. A simple tip for your summer sales racks is to look for more nuetral colors or faded tones that compliment the cold of the season and layer peices over one another or even over a splurged winter peice for a nice transitional look. The classic cozy look of a thin-knit long sleeve tee is updated with a neutral button-down and a pair of destroyed fade-wash jeans. add a pair of last year's ugg boots with some cute tall socks and a simple leather belt and some neutral/natural jewlry in woods and natural stones create a classicly updated look that appears laid back without being sloppy.

Another tip that everyone should know is do not be afraid to wear something feirce or last season if you feel that you can make it look good. Clothes are meant to be worn by you, not you worn by them. No matter if you feel it's too modern, too old, last season's, or too cheap; in the end, clothes are clothes and if it looks good then wear it!

I shop in places everywhere from the $5 rack in Target, to my grandmother's closet, to Versace online. There are great peices to be found anywhere, you just have to know how to wear them.

Austin Food Review

Hello everybody, I'm here in Austin, Texas about five hours away from home! I'm here to compete in State UIL for Headline Writing. While I was out and about today my friend, MaKenna, and I stopped at a little sandwich shop called Which Wich. Here you can build your own sandwich by marking on a little paper sandwich bag what you want and then putting your name on the bottom. I decided that I was going to get a #5 bag which is the seafood selection. From this bag I selected the Surf & Turf which is crab meat and roast beef; I then chose white bread with swiss cheese, regular mayo and cucumbers. The combination is refreshing and light with a touch of sweetness from the crab meat and a light crunch from the cucumber and a hearty taste in the roast beef. So, if you are ever in Austin and you feel the need for the perfect sandwich on a hot day, just stop in to Which Wich and get this lovely seafood surf and turf sandwich. It's sure to hit you just right!

Another (Not So) Happy Ending

Boyfriends, oh how they can create such termoil among girls of our age. My current boyfriend, Kevin, lives out of town in the town I grew up in about 30 miles south of where we live.



fact- I am a very big flirt in my school, though you can ask any of the boys here and they will tell you that I never mean anything by it.



At first he seemed perfect. He was the same boy I had always known through my childhood. We grew up together, so how different could he be, right?



Wrong.



Subtle hints began making themselves present by the third time we got to go out together. We were walking through the mall in Abilene when I saw a guy I thought I knew. My attention focused and my head snapped to the right. I let my eyes train on his features, annalyzing his every move. Finally, after a moment's pause filled with some sort of heavy hesitation, I came to the conclusion that it was a trick of movement; nobody familiar as I had first suspected. I turned my face back to walking and paid no mind to my impulsive action until I heard a familiar voice in an unfamiliar tone ask a double ended question. To my left, the words running out of his mouth like taffy laced in poison, I heard Kevin ask, "Do you know him, babe?" His tone held suspicion and threat; either at me or the boy, I don't know, but it left me stricken.


We have now been seperated for two weeks and I can feel the relief like a summer rain.

Hallways

School. Jailhouse and safehaven. Sounds like an off tune orchestra.

Dress-Bag Slicker

I just got home from a day full of running around in the rain and just 'doing stuff'. I have had a lot of fun today and I just want to say that the new movie, "XMen Origins: Wolverine" is amazing. I love it and I felt like it ended WAY too soon. (And for all you mom's that love Wolverine, there are a few very sexy scenes. Not in a perverted sex-scene kind of way, more of a shirtless moment but happyl and then a naked-run-away-fear-and-confusion moment where you don't really see anything) Oh my, his body is way amazing and fit and gorgeous.

A moment from earlier today:

The lightning sent a camera's flash through the window of the small building. All it's occupants gasped and looked out into the world on the other side. A real life movie from the 20's. Everything was in black and white, no color, just shades of grey moving in a sort of shaken shadow. Small gusts of wind pushed lines of rain towards the door in some unknown rhythm. The spots littering the ground danced in a waltz with increasing furocity.
Inside, the lights were bright and the air too stiff. The whites were too white and the colors too bold. The silence was too heavy and the tension and concentration coming from the people's eyes were almost solid.
Everyone was done with what they needed, but all were too attached to their too-white and too-dry moment that they were all afraid to leave through the waiting doors. Two of them stand, walk to the doors, push them open, and disappear into the old film.
Outside the barrier of the starched room, the two laugh and run towards their silently waiting vehicle. One door opens a moment just before the other and they launch themsleves into the seats. The rain finds a few seconds between the time they land and the closing of the doors to push its way into the car and onto their seats, laps, and floorboards. The doors close as a few desperate drops fight their way into the closing spaces. More luaghter erupts when they realize they are drenched on all the points of their bodys that face the sky.
Just a moment passes by before the two notice the perfect block that was the shop is broken for a second time as the doors swing open once more. Two bodies erupt from the white area. The sign above the door reading 'TAILOR' flickers once as the two bodies, covered in dress bags with face-holes cut in them, run across the parking lot to their own vehicle.
At the sight of two grown women, running through the grey rain in dress bags, the first two let even more laughter flow throughout the little car like a new perfume. It envelopes them in a colorful warmth that can't be dried by the 20's storm outside, or confined by the perfectly white box in front of them.





Ok, that was just a funny moment today. The rain really came out of no where. I mean, it was misting all day and then, as we were sitting there, BAM, it just hit us. The sky's bottom broke and I swear I saw a few chuncks of it hit the ground in the midsts of all the rain droplets! Now, if you've ever seen grown women run in dress bags, then you can laugh like that. However, if you havn't, it's something worth seeing at least once in your life if you ever get the rare chance.

Alright, I suppose I ought to go to bed now. I have extra stuff to get done tomorrow. I hope that I didn't get to descriptive and that you all actually caught the funniness in the moment.

Music Kind of Gal

So I just thought that it might be fun to post my music on here one day just to show what kind of person you all can make of me. I always thought that the kind of music you listen to can say alot about a person. This is my current favorite playlist of about 4 that I have made on playlist.com. I just love the summer feel that this music gives me.

Friends and Highschool

How fickle an effect these things can have on one another.
Strange how we all get our friends, our best friends, the ones we hold on to and follow around loyally. We stick by their sides and then we stand up for them. We follow them to class and ride in their vehicles. We smile and laugh and cry and hold. Our friends that we hold onto so desperately because it seems to be the only thing that can get us through the day in our horrible schools. How funny does it seem that these strong relations are the easiest to break. Relations that change and alter and break and grow.
Friends and Highschool. You think they will last forever, but then life crawls up and descides to show you who is really in charge.

The Proper Blogger Society

I just had a major break-through! While surfing other bloggers' sites I noticed that they all had very interesting and custome headlines. I wanted this. It seemed to me to be some sort of sign that they were all 'real bloggers', they all took this to a new level.

Strange how the teenage mind thinks, isn't it?

The things we don't have make us different. They make us feel either younger, older, smaller, left out, or part of something better.

So I set out on a mission. I'm not one to be left out of the 'loop' (haha, from in(side) the loop, one of my favorite blogs).

I pulled out my trusty and handy photoshop and set about making a headline for my blog. Took me two days to come up with something that sat satisfactory with my tastes and the feel I wanted for my blog.

taste and feel
Does anyone else find it strage that we convey things we can only see or read to taste and feel? How odd is it that we associate the other senses with sight. Writers, how we twist our language to convey our deepest emotions and thoughts.

Finally, it came to be time to place the image in my blog. What a task this in of itself proved to be!

At last, I have the header that I felt made me 'belong' to this type of elite blogger society.

I'm extremely happy to feel this connection with you other bloggers. haha

How strange we teens are.

Just a Moment

There is a boy named Sam, I go to school with him. Boy I say, when I should say 'was a boy', now a man. He is a senior this year, I a junior. One years' separation. I remember a time, not too long ago, when I thought that I might like him; in a more-than-friends way. I remember thinking that he might be a wonderfully amazing person under all his covers and mysteries. I remember thinking that he really was beautiful and wondering what his body might be like. I remember pining after him in that annoying school-girl way that we all do at some point.

For weeks I watched him, trying to give him subtle hints. I started texting him, trying to get on his friend-side; I talked to him a little more in the halls. I tried to smile in a shy-coy-cute-bashful-sexy way that we girls so easily learn to use against the boys we seek. I tried to be the different girl from what he was used to, but I wanted to be what he thought he needed.

He told me he liked girls with high energy levels just because it seemed to balance out his mellow charm.

I already had hype, I had everything he needed, I just needed to play it to his tune, on his time, with his life.

I dressed to catch his attention so he would notice me in the mornings and when I walked by. Once I was noticed and being watched, I would smile and be friendly towards everyone, laugh extra sweet at jokes and jostles, would move my body while teasing other classmates, making sure to flaunt my small but perky breasts, my sleek build, my toned stomach, my long legs, and my cute bum. I wanted to flaunt my physical traits while charming with my personality. I played extra bashful in the classroom when in my best classes when he came in. Though I played bashful, I tried extra hard and tried subtle ways to get noticed for my mind without looking like I wanted to be noticed.

I wanted him to think I was humble but comfortable, bold and kind, sweet but strong, silly but mature, creative but intelligent. I wanted to be the perfect girl for him. I thought I could do it, too.

I jumped at the opportunity to talk to him when, at the time when I was searching for a vehicle, his truck came up for sale. I would ask questions about things like the muffler, the mpg, the interior lights, and many things about the engine that I had picked up on. I wanted to be the cool girl that was a girl but was also tough. I was ecstatic when he sold me the truck, all the more reason to talk to him!

We were in One Act Play together and I would help create inside jokes with him for the opportunity to bring them up in school the next day.

I talked to him every time he came into where I worked and did my best to flirt in a coy way that caught his attention.

Once he came in and gave me to remote to the radio in my, once his, truck. I took the device then held my hand high for a 'high five' while saying "Thank you so much, I am so grateful, I have needed a decent ride to get around in!" All smiles as his hand hit mine, I continued to look him in the eye, seemingly focused and not paying attention to my hands, which I had deliberately used my improvised time to lace my fingers in his. He held there for a moment as I talked and when he left, I felt I had accomplished a massive step forward.

The next day I discovered that he had gotten back together with his ex the day before.

Funny how things happen isn't it?

A Few Old Poems (no titles)

uncomfortable
bile
tears
rage
questions?



<>




By some miracle
My legs carry me
onward
normal life
stricken
oblivious



<>




Something so small
So very unnecissary
Why is it that
This
Is what broke me?
I expected
To be broken
Before
When you said
"no more"
When you decided
To leave me
But not this
Why this
So small
So simple
Broken.

A List of Pleasurable Events

(In no particular order)

Advancing to regional in Headline Writing for UIL
Being voted class president
Having a well-paying job
Discovering amazing new music
Dying my hair
Getting the most amazing boyfriend in the world, Kevin
Having the most beautiful dress for prom
Not having to pay for the most amazing prom dress ever.
Having the best prom date for a boyfriend, Kevin
Getting to spend the whole weekend with Kevin
Getting a new phone to talk to Kevin with
Finding new clothes to wear
Discovering a sense of confidence to wear what I want
Finding popularity and friendship and love all in the same year
Becoming comfortable in my own skin and body
Deciding to not tan on purpose
Placing first in regional Headline and advancing to State
Meeting so many people from other countries
Finding courage to speak my mind
Coming to terms with my inability to write daily
Being comfortable in my own life story
Finding the bright side of life
Wearing 4” heels to school one day ‘just because’
Buying my first truck with my little brother
Finding a power in my sexuality and its ability to control men
Finding a new creativity with everything I do
The ability to let go of things and just let them be
Finding a way to live life and live it happily
Falling in love

Life Is Served

Blogs for life: Mothers have blogs to brag about their children, to help other families, to give other moms tips, and to try to find other ways to help their own family. Other blogs I have seen have been about getting their art, poetry, or opinions out there. I admire and enjoy these blogs.

My blog isn't one of these kinds.

My blog is simply a release.

I'm a busy teenage girl with a twisted schedule and a forgetful mind and a kind heart. I won't update every day, or even on a schedule for that matter. My blogs may never have anything to do with one another, but they will let you into the odd ends of a teen's life where I live. Even then it may sound jumpy and outlandish.
I think in a strange way, I fall in love, I have numerous friends, and I live a hectic life more intense than most students I have ever met.

I'm a junior in high school trying to find my place and where I will stand once I'm standing without the training wheels of parents. I'm very academic, I love literature and writing, I'm an art major and I work more hours in a week than most of my peers' parents.

So when do I write?
~At home after work on my laptop (like now) then I save it to a flash drive and post it the next day at school. (I don't have internet on my personal laptop, only my parents do.)
~At work on scrap receipts and random pieces of paper that I find and then I transfer that onto my computer at school or at home, whichever one I feel up to, and then load it.
~On my book covers and scrap pieces of paper that I find at school and keep as bookmarks until I can put them on a computer and load to blog.
~In the halls as I transfer from one class to another I write on my arms with a pen and copy and load it later.
~On my phone I text notes to myself.
~In class I write on my worksheets and tests and then tear that piece off and keep it until I can load it.

I always keep any proof of writing that I can even after I blog it, I like the idea of originals because they were part of the scene where the idea was formed and were there to see it born first hand.

My grammar is horrid, my spelling falls apart at the seams, my style often jumps because I write strait from the heart and mind together at once, I don't make sense because I take breaks and come back, but I truly think that I have a unique look on life, that though I contradict myself all the time, I feel as though I am growing and that I am learning. I think that IF my blog happened upon becoming popular that I could show America a unique look into a different teenager's life.
We all know the traditional high-school story, but I don't go to a typical high school.

Follow my story and try to keep up if you can. Real time events mixed with my own personal thoughts, It's going to be a ride that from even the first perspective can give you headaches. Trust me, I know, I get them all the time. So welcome to my world, my world full of surprises, sickness, and a true love story.

I will post some stuff unedited, just for the sake of giving you the real story, and I will also post some stuff that's been censored for my privacy.
Not all of my posts will be current, I may post something about an even from earlier that day, or I might post a copy of a poem I wrote two years ago; you never know.

Life is served; enjoy.

The Small Town (from my journal)

(This is an exerpt from my journal written the day after the second incident described below.)



In moments like this, I understand the appeal of a small town. I can see where country songs get their inspiration and I can see where all the things people say about us come from. It's moments like these that I regret wanting to leave after high school, wanting to make it big, wanting to forget this place. Moments like these define a town, they define a community, and they define individuals.

Obama's Inauguration Day, January, 2009.
English class, 3rd period, the class watches patiently and slightly distracted as the inauguration carries about on the TV screen in the corner of the room.
Some students are conversing amongst themselves quietly; others are giving the screen their full attention. Still more are watching, while debating pros and cons of the new president and various other political and moral points.
The man on the screen that has been delivering the most recent speech announces that he would like to lead the crowd, and America, in prayer.
Conversation slides off the edge of a cliff,
complete attention turns to pure analyzation,
debate halts immediately.
The prayer begins.
The class, as a whole, pays their respects. Soon, one by one, the students finish their personal prayers and lift their heads to find the man still praying. One student notices that the man on the screen is from the north; his prayer is in another style.
Here, at home, in the south, people pray to their Lord as if he were their best friend and they needed someone to confide in.
In the north they pray with excellence and awe.
The prayer continues still. Finally the man says the beginnings of The Lord's Prayer.
Like a domino effect, the class begins to mimic his words. We are now reciting the prayer as one, like it is second nature.
The same student that noticed the styles now notices something else. Even though the class has it's problems, it's groups, it's drama, it is still one class.
There is a connection.
We are all in this together,
with our Lord to walk beside us,
to lead in front of us,
to carry us in his arms.





Friday Night, January 24th, Approximately 10:40pm, 2009.
Two girls, best friends, are driving around town. They pull into the gas station to buy a drink. They are standing at the front desk waiting for their change and a crash erupts outside.
They leave the building and place their drinks in the truck. They examine the scene, and cause, of the crash. An 18-wheeler truck had just pulled in and tried to turn. He was hauling tin and the straps had snapped.
There was a variation of metal shapes that littered the ground.
The girls begin to attempt to help the confused driver. Two more boys drive up in another truck. They get out and immediately begin to assist.
Eventually all the tin that has fallen is back on the bed and strapped back down. The group of people walk to the front of the trailer, the source of the problem.
There is an area where the tin has fallen forward to the cab of the truck. The boys first try to push it back on but it is too heavy. A car has pulled up and we believe our problems are solved. It is the sheriff and we are certain he will help.
He steps out of his car, looks, laughs, and leaves.
He had noticed that the driver of the truck was a black man. He was racist.
The group let the fumes subside and turned their attention back to the problem on hand. Soon they were back to trying to find a way to fix the problem.
Another 20 minutes has passed.
A green truck pulls up. The boy that gets out is the sheriff’s son. He grabs a pair of gloves as soon as he understands the situation and tries his best to help.
He has proved himself a better man than his father.
The two girls from the beginning stand back when they realize that they are no longer any assistance.
The group now consists of two girls, three boys, and the driver.
All the kids are joking with each other as they work; poking fun at each other, having a good time, and showing off for the girls. The night continues on and the girls' curfew is nearing.
They each have to be home by midnight, no exceptions.
Soon, the boys stop their attempts and try to come up with a new method.
One boy stays behind while the other two leave to find a forklift.
Before they pull out, the girls say their goodbyes and give them each a hug. They hug the third boy and tell him goodbye as well.
The girls leave in the truck they arrived in.
The girl in the passenger seat realizes
that this is what small town lives are about.
This is how people in small towns
get their respect. They have
manors and know how to help.

Links in The Chain (from my laptop)

Faith.

It can sure take you on a ride,
through a spin,
around the loop,
over a hill,
however you choose to say it.
It gets to us. Religion is a rough topic and can baffle even the most stable of minds. How it brings us to such realizations that we seem to understand for only a blink of an eye! Thoughts and revelations that become so clear that it seems you might combust with the sharpness of their clarity, but then, suddenly, it's gone.
Moments of clarity, or an epiphany, or a revelation, or a clear thought, whichever you prefer. How will we look at these moments once they have passed? Do we look back over our shoulders at them and scoff at our stupidity? Or do we turn to face them fully and smile with warm, open arms to embrace them once more?
I suppose that depends on the thought.
I have my moments, my thoughts, my clarity. More often than not, they are simply stupid ideas that I have a notion to build on, and occasionally act on. What a fool I seem at these moments. I always seem to regret the actions and theatrical performances I carry on with. I regret the actions, yes, but I often remember and cherish the lessons I learn from these stupid concepts.



Consequence.

The aftermath of an action.
The events that follow in a direct relation to the outcome of said action.
Some seem to amount to a great deal more than others. Some appear to be slightly ironic. Some just come about as either happy or irrelevant.
I have tendency to attract ironic and regretful consequences of my idiotic actions. I carry myself into a whirl wind of irrational and emotional events. My logic seems to slip away, fall completely, or simply hide and therefore my emotions take control.
I suppose you could say I have strong emotions because when they take over I become almost barbaric with instinct. If I could only teach myself to hold back my emotions and think logically before I allow my motions to become erotic and uncontrollable!
Perhaps then my actions might not bring about such drastic actions.
In light of such events I feel myself shrink, fill with shame, become vulnerable. My head droops, my shoulders slump, my body curls in on itself, my tears fall freely, my hands tremble, and my breathing comes in gasps. I feel as though I should curl in on myself in shame and realization of my stupidity so that perhaps others might not look at me so.
Shame seems to eat at me and my head begins to ache with the ferocity of its hunger. Shame, vulnerability, and embarrassment are emotions that I dearly love to hate and avoid. Though I try desperately to avoid them, it seems as though it finds me more than others.
These emotions might be hated my such as myself, but I honestly believe that it is good for us as humans, and as Christians (as I am) to help us grow in who we are and to help us understand where we stand in this world. It helps us to comprehend just how small we are in this life and just how unimportant certain things may be.



Faith and Consequence

Two things that I found myself face to face with today.
Faith; being such a simple word, easy to spell and say, short in thength; seems to be the harder of the two to comprehend and explain. More difficult to wrap up and carry around strongly, as though it were heavy, the word itself having the weight.
Consequence; long, complicated, drawn out, and still unsure on exact spelling; becomes the easier lead to carry. Why? Because it is simple, definable, requires no belief, no reason, it's simply a thing, an outcome.

Faith and Consequence: Two concepts I felt the need to explain.
Two things I had to own up to today.
Two words that I needed tested.
Two parts of a larger whole that we call life.

I have faith in my Lord, Jesus Christ and the fact that he faced the consequence we deserved with open arms and saved us from the things we undoubtedly deserved by our actions.
Just two more links in the chain.

Body Shame (from my laptop)

Did you ever wonder why I would behave the way I would when you got too close to me?

I know I always pushed for more, more love, more closeness, more knowing of each other. I wanted it.
I wanted you to know me better than anyone else in this world knew me. I wanted the feel of your hand close to me. I wanted the touch of your body on my skin like a flowing water. I wanted it all, I wanted you. I pushed you to it, I would ask for more, more, more.

Stop.

I would make you stop. Make myself stop. Shy away. I would pull my body into myself.

Why would I do this? Why would I ask, beg, push for so much more and then when I got close to what I wanted, pull away?

You always asked my that. We were never shy of asking questions. You, Me, You and I, we, us. Questions were never a problem. Answers though, that was a little more difficult. You asked why all the time. Constantly. Pleading with me, wanting me so much, as much as I wanted you. My answers never seemed true enough. Only now do I realize why, and it was because the weren't.

I would let you so close to me, so very very close. You were so lovely to me, your body, your scent, your strength, and the desire coming across your skin to where I could feel, at the lightest touch, how much you wanted me.

I desired you. I needed your touch. I wanted to feel you where no one had the privilege to go. I wanted you to have a part of me that no one else would have. I wanted that secret between us.

Embarrassment. Shyness. Shame.

I always told you that I had made a promise to not let anyone have that part of me, and I had, made the promise I mean. I fully intended to keep it as well. However, that promise did not entail certain things, and I still would not let you near those other things.

Once I did. I let you get to me. I was so caught up in the moment and I was determined to get passed my barriers. I let you go there. It was amazing. Though, still, something was wrong. I had to pull away. I couldn't stand your touch anymore.

It wasn't you, or your skin, or your look, or your smell. It was me, my shame, my embarrassment. I couldn't stand you to know that much of me because I was afraid of my flaws. I was afraid of my imperfection. I had wanted to be the perfect angel you dreamed of. I wasn't. My body, not what I wanted it to be, not what I wanted you to know me as.

I knew you had already been there, I knew you knew, I knew you were already aware. Still, I had to stop it, shy away before my shame enveloped me again.

I wanted you. I wanted you more than you could ever imagine. You were the most important thing to me in the world and I wanted to share so much of myself with you. However, some emotions can simply take control. I didn't want to let them have me before you did, but they did. I lost the battle.

Shame.
Embarrassment.
Shyness.

That is what held me. You know now.

Relished

Sometimes I just want you to take my side.
I want to know that maybe, just maybe, you understand me that I am not always rational and correct, but I try my hardest. I want to be able to cry in front of you, let you see me vulnerable, let you listen to my irrational fears and angers without your judgment. I don't judge you, why can't you offer the same sentiments? I want you to be the one that I talk to when I have a problem or I don't feel well, but can you handle that? Can you not patronize me and make my situation worse? Can you retain from injuring my spirits more? I have never had anyone to talk to that doesn’t try to make me feel inferior and ignorant. I thought that perhaps you would be different. Instead, you take my reaction to the situation, and laugh at me. You mock my actions and scald my morals. I thought you loved me. But if you love me, wouldn't you care more about how you made me feel? I realize that I am most likely wrong, but I just want you to listen and sooth. I know already that my actions were irrational and unnecessary, I know already that I was wrong and that I created an unnecessary problem for myself. I am already fully aware of this, but it doesn't mean that I don't want to tell someone my side. It doesn't mean that I don't want the chance to be heard, the idea that someone might care enough to want to know how I felt about something. I thought that I might have found that person in you, but where has that gone? When will you understand that I am still only a girl, and though I act strong, I still have the same emotions as other girls. I still have the same needs, needs to feel protected, held, understood, loved. Though I suppose that I am not meant to feel that just yet. Maybe you aren’t the one that I thought you were supposed to be.

Cornered Lashes

Isn't it strange how memories seem to sneak up on the corners of your eyes at the oddest of times? How they appear to be random, though in the back of our minds we know that something has triggered them. How we wonder what that trigger could have been. At times it is blaringly obvious, but at other times we remain guessing and curious to the point of mental strain.
Moving through my book I spot an old slip of paper, wrinkled and folded, though still timeless. A memory, read again, brought anew.

An elderly couple had just stepped through the barrier of the front doors of the store. A man approaches the counter. A man with the look of a certain degree of scruffiness; somewhat a rough-around-the-edges type. His face was clean-shaven...yeasterday. His hair, under his hat, shot out over his ears and across his neck; just long enough to tickle the ends against the collar of his shirt. His ears were peirced, twice each, and both were gauged to what might have been a size 4 and sported some wooden toggle-like knobs. He had a charming disposition, something in the way he watched theings around him, like through a large window. As if he could see everything, but he wasn't really there, he was just on the edge of the scene. He watches the elderly couple leave and a sigh escapes him. A mutter, "amazing." A quiet pause, soft, like butterfly wings.
"Excuse me, but what is 'amazing'?"
His eyes shine softly as he raises his face to mine, he smiles at me with a kind smile, his reply was honest.
"It's amazing when two people who have been together so long can still wake up every morning and smile at each other."
I smile as I give him his change.
"You have a nice day." He says.
"You, too." says I.

I still have this small sheet of paper. It sits beside me now as I copied it onto here. It's mere simplicity makes me smile. I love that the moment in which it happened was such a simple and innocent piece of time.


-Daniel by Bat For Lashes-
Daniel when I first saw you
I knew that you had
A flame in your heart
And under under our blue skies
Marble movie skies
I found a home in your eyes
We’ll never be apart
And when the fires came
The smell of cinders and rain
Perfumed almost everything
We laughed and laughed and laughed
And in the golden blue
Cryin’ took me to the darkest place
And you have set fire to my heart
When I run in the dark, Daniel
To a place that’s worst ?
Under a sheet of rain in my heart
Daniel
I dream of home
But in a goodbye bed
With my arms around your neck
Into our love the tears crept
Just catch in the eye of the storm
And as my heart ran round
My dreams pulled me from the ground
Forever to search for the flame
For home again
For home again
When I run in the dark, Daniel
To a place that’s worst, Daniel
Under a sheet of rain in my heart, Daniel
I dream of home
When I run in the dark, Daniel
To a place that’s worst, Daniel
Under a sheet of rain in my heart, Daniel
I dream of home

Sorrows Barely Wanted

I'm so sorry.

I think I hurt you more than I could comprehend at the time.

I pushed you away. I didn't trust you. I didn't believe you. I chose, I had to choose, but I still don't know if I chose right. I loved you, loved you with my everything. I wanted only you for the rest of my life. I still have nightmares. They are happy dreams; all bright, shining, smiling, laughing; but I wake up scared, alone, afraid, lost. My dreams hold you in my arms, hold our children against me, walk through our home, live in our hopes. I shattered those hopes for both of us. I killed our children. I murdered our lives together. I'm some new kind of monster, a monster that blindly devours wishes and dreams, love and happiness, hopes and prayers.

I'm so very sorry for what I did to you, to me, to us.

I am always second guessing myself, always being reminded of you, always wanting something back, always comparing them to you.

It's not that I don't have anyone else that wants me, it's just that all the ones that want me, only want me. They don't love me, they don't even really like me at all. I can't keep substituting want and desire for love. It only seems to open old wounds, make them sting and burn again.

You are so far the only person that knows everything. You can read me, even things I never told you, you knew. You know my bad habbits and my fears. You know my best spots and my worst. You know my every move and muscle. You know more of my body than either I or my mother or even my doctor knows. You know when I behave what way and you know when to ask me what's wrong.

I don't cry for people often. I didn't even cry a whole lot when my great grandparents died. You probably have the largest tear jar from me. My father makes me cry a lot as well, but not often for him, more for the people he talks about. You have tears of joy, of sorrow, of fear, of angst, of betrayl, of regret. You own the most laughs and smiles as well. Smiles of true happiness, bashfullness, embarassment, memories, understanding, wanting, desire, content, love. Laughs of tickles, funny moments, remarkable recoveries, phrases, movies, touches, unexpected courage. You own more of me than anyone I know, and it's things that I can never get back, no matter how often I push you away or how often I try to deny you now.

I am so sorry for doing this to you. You have to be taking it better than I though, you seem to have a nice life going for you. I believe you aredoing well at trying to move on. If only I could let you go, if only I didn't feel the need to talk to you first, to tell you first, to have you know everything about me. You don't even care when I tell you, I don't know why I hang on so hard, so desperately. You don't want me. You just want me to go away, to leave so you can move on. You want me to leave you alone so I can stop hurting you.

I am a cruel person. I don't want to be cruel.