Last night Julia and Emily bleached my hair and then emily bleached Roger’s and things felt back to normal for a split second. But I was still breaking inside looking at him, because I know I’ll never be friends with him again the way we were before. Then we got high in Joel’s car and I went back to my room and wrote about how I was breaking and then I fell asleep.
-on a side note, it’s a lot easier to fall asleep when I’m high and this could possibly solve my insomnia… while killing my voice and simultaneously destroying my career… but still-
Today when Nicole saw Roger’s hair she told him she was dying it back. Then he missed our Alfred Hitchcock class, which is very unlike him. Dr. Sullivan was sad, I could tell. Roger’s his favourite student.
I went on a walk with Joel today and I’m so happy he’s back in my life. He’s like my brother, and I really missed talking to him. We talked about how Nicole cheated and led Rog on and how she manipulates people and how sad I am because I’m losing my best friend to her. I’m happy Joel’s back, but I could have everyone in the world on my side-and it’s starting to look like we really have the larger support group-but losing the one person I was actually counting on the be there… that sucks. This sucks. I’m so sad right now.
Also I saw Chris with Nicole today, too and I just want to go climb in a hole right now. Seriously, I’m just so, so tired of her winning. I’m tired of it. I just want to cry myself to sleep and never wake up.
I can’t even describe what I’m feeling right now. I want to scream at all the people who let my down. I want to punch Nicole in the face. I want to superglue all of the people I care about to me so that no more of them can leave.
My mind is just a fucked up hurricane of jealousy, disappointment, depression, and defeat.
I feel like I’m standing on the top of the empire state building with the worst case of vertigo. Sooner or later I’m going to fall. And it’s not gonna be an easy landing.
Last night I cried myself to sleep for the first time in a long time. Then I woke up just now, having slept through both of my classes, feeling miserable. Maybe things are eating me more than I realize.
I just really need to talk to Rowdy. Or Lila. Actually, I need to talk to Lila because she’s the one person in my life that I’m sure of. If nothing else, at the end of the day I’ll have her. If only she wasn’t so fucking far away. Fuck. I miss her.
I need to hack up the courage to text Rowd again but I don’t know if I can. I need him in my life. I need to see him. I can’t understand why, and I never will, but I need him so badly right now. Whenever I’m happy it’s easy to forget about him, but the second I start going under, I need him to pull me back up. You’d think I would’ve learned to swim by now…
But last night, I wasn’t crying about all that. I was crying about how I can feel Roger leaving us, slowly but surely, and I know soon enough he’s going to be in the hands of Nicole and he won’t talk to us anymore. And I am going to be so heartbroken when he’s not there. And I know I’ll never be able to let myself be close with him again because it’s gonna hurt too much when he leaves.
Basically I feel myself losing one of my best friends, and it hurts too much to even think about.
And I hate crying but I’m starting to again and I just want to go back to when things were simpler, and kids played with dolls instead of real people.
It’s been a while. But I’ve been doing some thinking. I’m going to stop using these stupid fake names. If someone significant finds this blog, then they find it. Then they’ll have a bunch of secrets I’m too afraid to reveal. Maybe these things will make them like me more.
Anyway, so about 30 minutes ago I texted my ex, Rowdy. God, I miss him. It’s not fair I do, because I just want to be able to forget about him, but last Friday I saw his brother and he hugged me and he moved like him and I miss him. I really do and it’s not fair. I don’t want to get back together with him again. I know it’s really over. But not talking to him for months has been really hard. And I fucking miss him. Fuck.
Anyway so this is what I sent:
Hey. Listen I really miss you. And I know you probably hate me and aren’t even going to reply to this. But I just wanted you to know that I miss you. And I hope you’re happy. And I hate that things ended in such a bad note because not talking to you at all ever sucks. But yeah I know you probably still hate me and you should. But I do miss you and I hope you’re doing ok down there.
He replied that he didn’t hate me. That taquilla bottles make for great bongs and he was high as a balloon. Then he stopped replying and maybe I’ll text him tomorrow, but probably not because I’m too afraid of rejection and his rejection has always been the worst.
I just hope he’s not hooking up with MacKenzie again because that actually would probably send me over the edge.
Other than that my life’s been boring. I’ve been trying to help other’s cope with their own heartbreaks. Julia’s heart will probably be broken for a while since she and JR broke up a bit ago. Taylor will never stop being broken by Radler. And Roger is in love with Nicole who’s a bitch and only wants Joel who’s in love with her but is an idiot and lets her control him. Joel hasn’t spoken to me in weeks because he’s been with Nicole. But tonight I saw him and he’s beginning to look broken again and I can only hope that this time will really be the last and he won’t go back to her after they’re done. I can’t keep losing people to Nicole. I can’t handle it. I’m sure Roger’s going to leave, too, when Joel and Nicole split up. He’s absolutely obsessed with Nicole and he’ll be gone without a trace the second she’s single again. Just like Joel. And it’ll really, really hurt to lose my best friend to her. It’ll really fucking hurt. But shit happens every day.
Poor Joel. He’ll come back soon and I’ll give him a second chance. But it would hurt too much to lose him twice, so he won’t get a third. I know it’s not his fault, but I’m human, too.
As for Chris he’s confusing as usual. He seems to want to spend time with me, but he never does. But then he also seems like he doesn’t care about me at all sometimes. I think he’s just scared, honestly. But then he did tell me that he liked someone else and I’m so terrified that it’s Nicole and it would kill me if it was. I honestly would probably have a mental breakdown if she managed to take him, too. I just can’t hack it anymore. She hurts people and they just keep coming back for more.
I want Chris to want me and just me, but I know he won’t ever be that person. And I’ll always only be 2nd choice. Life goes and goes.
I want Rowdy to text me back because I want to talk to him more than anyone else right now. I want to be with him so that he can hold me and tell me everything will be alright. He was always the best at doing that.
Also, I got into Berklee. Now I don’t know what to do because even though this place sometimes feels like salt on a scrape, it also fills up my heart to bursting every single day. I’m just a bowl of mixed up cereal and I’ve got no marshmallows to keep me together.
On the bright side, I can smoke now. And I will be getting high at every opportunity because it’s absolutely wonderful. If I can’t hold together, then I can dissipate like smoke through this cool spring air.
I have decided to write to you only whenever I have something to tell you. You don’t need to hear about the sad monotonies of my life, you only need to hear what I need to get out. So, that being said, I will only post when I need to. Tonight, I probably should.
Last night I told Chris that everyone thinks he’s a man whore. This is mostly true, but I think I was emphasizing it because I’m bitter. He said he realized this and it’s because he’s promiscuous with everything that moves. But he spends more time playing video games than he does playing with girls.
Again, this is mostly true.
I tried again to get out of him who he’s really in love with, but he refused to talk. He just looked at me with sad grey eyes and pretended that I couldn’t phase him. That the people calling him bad words didn’t matter. That he would love more than anything to be known to the world as something this terrible.
I know people, though, and I know him. And I know that it ruined his night. I felt bad. I told him so and he shrugged it off. He’s a big boy. Words hurt, and he knows it. So does unrequited affection.
I sound more cynical that I am about the situation. The really sad thing is that I care about the fucker. It’s not fair, but I do. I want to tell him that he means nothing to me. That I will be loved by someone so much better than him someday, and he will have lost something wonderful. This will probably happen, too. But I can’t say it because all I want is him. And I hate myself for it. He can fall in love with whoever he wants to. But when he looks at me I know he wants to kiss me. And I can’t help thinking that that means something more than he’s letting out. And I can’t help hoping that it does.
Anyway today he acted normal in class. He flirted and smelled nice and looked at me funny, as always. But he’s not spending as much time with me lately and it makes me sad. Maybe he’s avoiding me. Maybe he just doesn’t want to lead me on anymore. But it’s too late, I’m already hooked. God, I hate the power boys have over me.
The worst thing is that I know he’s good. I know he’s trying desperately to be good, and I know he wants to want me back. Part of me is still hoping he does, and that he’s just concealing it because I’m going to be gone next year. Possibly. This weekend is my audition to Berklee, so I’ll find out soon if I’m transferring or not. I’m afraid of both possibilities. I want a reason to stay here more than anything.
But my pillow still sort of smells like him, and I don’t know if I can take this much longer.
I think that ghosts invade my dreams sometimes.
Today I took a nap and dreamed of the most beautiful girl. She wore a teal dress and had teal eyes to match. They glowed through the gray of this house I was trapped in. And her hair was so blonde, like sunlight, cascading down her sides in tight ringlets.
At first I saw her as a porcelain doll. Then she was alive, the most beautiful baby girl. In my dream I sat on a gray bench and stared at the colorful outdoors from my porch. Soon enough the girl showed up again, all grown up and too perfect to believe I was imagining her.
“My god.” I said in awe, “I have been sitting here for eight years.”
That’s when I noticed that everything around me had changed. Everything was covered in dust. And I wanted to wake up.
I stayed up late with Roger cuddling and listening to radiohead. If I could make myself fall in love with someone, and someone with me, it would be Roger. He’s the most beautiful person, and we’re so opposite but so similar. He sees the world in such a wonderful light, while I complain about the glare. He helps me get through here.
Unfortunately, we’re such good friends that any sort of romantic feelings between the two of us are laughable to think about. It would be so silly to fall for him. Rog. He would be the perfect person to fall in love with, but that could just never happen. It makes me giggle to think about it. I’m sure he feels the same.
Anyway, we were listening to music while tangled together on one of the love-seats in the lounge of the dorms. And then, of course, we started talking about life and happiness and how it’s really the only thing anyone is reaching for. And I ended up telling him about Chris. He’s the only person I’ve told here. Two of my other friends know we’ve hooked up once, but that was weeks ago. Roger is the only one who knows about last Friday. I told him that Chris is thinking about someone else, but he still kissed me and I wanted him so I couldn’t help what I did.
Obviously Rog thinks it’s a waste of my emotions. And it is. It definitely is. But, then again, are good feelings really so tainted by the bad? What makes anything worth suffering for?
I know that Chris isn’t worth it. I know it. And Rog reminded me of how he treats other girls. Of how I might be the only girl he’s been with this semester, but that’s not from any lack of effort towards the contrary. I know that Chris doesn’t really care about me, and that he’ll never love me. But I can’t help but to love the way he calls me beautiful and to want to kiss him back. So badly. I just want him so, so terribly and I hate myself for it.
“Think about how much pain it’s causing you even now.” Roger said to me. “And it’s probably more than I even realize. If this ever turns into a relationship, you’ll be so depressed.”
I know I will be. I know.
I tried telling him that I don’t have real feelings for Chris, but Roger knows me better than that. The truth is, I’m not entirely sure about anything anymore, mainly my own feelings. I don’t know what I’m going to do. I know what I want to do, and what I should do, but not what I’m going to do. I never know that until it happens. And by then, it’s too late. Obviously.
At any rate I’m glad Rog knows because I needed to spill my guts to someone and I think I trust him more than anyone else. He cares about me. Not that other people don’t, but he doesn’t just care, he wants to make things better. All the while he’s suffering through his own life and he still has time to lie with me on a love-seat that’s too small for us, listen to radiohead, and talk. About my problems in particular. That’s love.
I totally just started a similar blog. I think it's so healthy. Good for you :)
Thank you so much! what’s the name of your blog, Stranger?
I have decided to take control of my life, and this is how:
I am going to write love letters to you every day in the hopes that this will make me feel less unstable. Since I don’t know you and you don’t know me, I can be honest. I will not tell you where I live or what I do or who I am. I will only tell you the important things. Like what I love and what made me sad today or will tomorrow or has long, long ago.
I’m not sure if anyone will want to read about my little life here, but if you do, I hope it brings you some happiness or comfort, realizing that every living thing is struggling through the same intense seasons of this earth. Of living. Of having a pulse.
I will tell you now that I am eighteen years old. I go to a small college and I like to do things that any eighteen-year-old in college likes to do. I drink as much as I can without dying. I swear when I am upset, or happy, or excited. I have sex with boys that don’t love me and I write and write and write. And sometimes I also read, but scarcely.
Right now there is a boy who doesn’t love me, but I wish he did. He doesn’t love me but he kisses me and tells me that I’m beautiful. He left me naked in my bed two nights ago, covered in blue light and wondering about who he was picturing when he was with me.
Chris tells me that he likes someone else, but he won’t tell me who. And he likes me and my company and my body, but it’s all not enough to keep him overnight. He likes this other girl and he says he doesn’t want to hurt me. It’s okay, I say, I’m not emotionally attached, or anything.
It’s easy enough for me to lie and him to believe it.
Anyway, Chris got dressed and left and hasn’t really spoken to me since. But I know it’s not the last time I’ll be with him. Tomorrow I have classes because it is Monday, and I hate Mondays, but they’re nothing if not a fresh start. We’ll see where this week takes us.
As for now, I have been avoiding work for too long. It is already 1am. I just needed to write to you, Stranger, because I’ve been thinking about this for a while. Since I can’t tell anyone else about my life I might as well send the details out into the frigid internet for whomever come who may.