Stand Up and Scream

Things seem fine. Things seem great. And within a blink of the eye they aren't. You are backed into a corner and you aren't sure which way to move. Then you realize that you can't move at all. You are a statue. A punching bag. An inadament object to be wailed upon somehow. You know it's not their fault. Even so, it remains the same. You stand up and you scream because it's all you know to do. Then, like the flick of a switch it's over. Nothing happened. Was this a figment of your imagination? It can't be. And like that. It's back. The dark clouds come rolling in and they loom over your head. And you try to get out from under them. You don't like that they are there. You want them to go away. But they follow you. And when you least expect it, it clears once again and the sun beams through. But like a savage beast they come back. They always come back

Beer For Old Wounds

Every time you think a wound has healed, there comes a day when you realize that in fact it hasn't. So something hurts and you pop a top and you lap up that golden liquid and it eases the pain. You don't NEED the beer but the beer helps. It makes you blood stop surging and your head stop pounding and your heart stop racing. Then you get down to your last drop. And the wound remains, even though the beer is gone. That old wound.

New Year... New Life

I have this pending sense of doom. But I know I'm being ridiculous. Things are starting to look up.

Today is huge. HUGE. I am back in Oregon to pack my things. This is where I really have to move on. This is accepting that everything is different. As simple as it seems to just move forward for me it's not. I hate change. I have the biggest fear of change. But it has to be out the window. So I started by getting bangs today. Bangs like little girl bangs. It's edgy. It's different it's something that I wouldn't normally do. But I did it so it's a start.

So now I'm sitting at a coffee shop by myself and I catch myself looking out this window at an intersection by a restaurant that he and I regularly attended. I look out the window, wondering if I will see him drive by, walk by, go into the restaurant. I'm being ridiculous. I know. Why do I still sit here with hope? Or maybe not hope but wonderment? I don't know what the right word is but it's something and it makes the pit of my stomache ache. I think that's why I have this pending sense of doom. But I want to be strong. I want to show him that I don't need him. Crying doesn't help, he doesn't feel bad for what he is done. All I really want is for him to be sorry. To feel some sense off remorse and that this isn't just something that happens. I won't ever get that but I can be happy. I'm going to start being happy by going out with my friends tonight. The people who really care about me and show me unconditional love (even if in a different form... love is love.) I'm going to look amazing. I'm going to wear a dress I never would have worn and shoes I would have never thought I could pull off and a belt that normally I would think accentuates my flaws and a leather jacket that I wouldn't think was my style. I'm going all out. I'm starting fresh. I'm going to be different. I'm going to have fun with my friends and not worry about anything! That is what I'm looking forward to.

Then tomorrow is the day I go to my house. I will see him. I will face him. That will be my true test. To see how I react. I'm going to be strong. I'm going to be cold to him just like he is to me. I don't care about him anymore. I care about me, and that's what matters most. I'm going to be strong. I'm going to be strong. I will be strong.

I Shouldn't Feel This Way

I think I'm getting better. Every night I write in my notebook and I think I'm getting better. Getting better at accepting that I'm not with him. Getting better at being alone. Getting better at dealing with the pain he caused. Getting better at letting go. But for every 2 steps I take I take at least 1 step back.

Yesterday seemed so good. I'm here in Washington, staying with Dad trying to forget. The flakes of snow fell all night and all day and now there is about a foot of snow. It's almost Christmas. The smell of pine trees filled my nostrils and the taste of sugar cookies lingered on the tip of my tongue. It was Sunday. A family day. A day of relaxation. After dinner we went for a walk. My dad, my stepmom Linda, and my sister Jessica and our 2 black labs Hanna and Hayley. The sky was purple and the air was fresh. The crystal like cutouts fell from the sky in a soft white blanket. The Christmas lights glowed from beneath the snow making the snow look illuminated and beautiful. I should have been happy. I should have resorted to acting like I was 8 again, and school was cancelled and we would make igloos with recycling tubs and all the neighborhood kids would help. But instead I thought of him and 2 winters ago. He, being from southern California had never experienced the snow. It warmed my heart to be able to experience something with him that was so new. He was like a little kid now. I got to show him the ropes. We strolled down the deserted street hand-in-hand. Our cheeks rosy, our bodies chilly. Our relationship was still wonderful and new. He felt like the greatest person I'd ever met. So much older than I (I was 19 and he was 27.) He seemed like the dream I had always imagined, come to life. My stomach had butterflies. My heart beat a thousand miles a minute. I never knew love like this was possible. I never knew you could feel so much for someone. It was the most real thing I had ever felt. I could never be with anyone else, I thought, no one could be as amazing as this man I have. I am so lucky.

When we returned home we were frozen and wet. We hopped out of our soggy winter clothes and into eachother embrace. I never wanted to leave that spot. His arms were all I needed. I have a picture of him sprawled out on the couch in a pair of jeans and his robe open, baring his chest. He has a smirk on his face. I loved that picture. I posted it on my myspace. Declaring to the world that he was mine and he was wonderful.

If I had known that 2 years down the road I would be here, would I have continued the masquerade? Would I have still thought he was an amazing man and felt that I was so lucky? I probably would have. I never thought in a million years he would go far as this. At least if he wanted to break things off he would do it like a man. Like someone who had a soul, or a heart, or a conscious. But I know now, he has none of those things. In fact, I feel like I have no idea who that person is. He's in our house in Oregon. But who is he? He's with someone else, happy as can be. That is not him. Or more accurately, that is not the person I thought I knew.

So, good job. You are are a tremendous liar. You take pride in your manipulation. You win at every headgame you play. You have managed to strike out your conscious altogether. You have wrapped your heart in so much bubble wrap that it is now unbreakable. You have everything you want. Here I am, a pathetic mess, still in disbelief, still not able to let you go completely. You have another play toy already. Someone you can start doing the same things to, and hoping for a different outcome. You still have your home. You still have your best friends, and your family because you won't ever tell them the truth about what you did. You have a car that I finally got a window for. You get all of the benefits. So, you know what? Congratulations for that. Not many people could put together such an extravagant side show. But you did. Bravo.

But if you think that makes you a man, think again. You will get what you deserve. It might not be for a long time but you will get yours. You aren't a good person, you said it your self. And you are right, bad things happen to bad people. Just because you play pretend and put on this mask of greatness, doesn't mean you are. "Beauty is only skin deep but ugly goes straight to the bone."