They always told me some day I would grow up; that some day I would reach a state of mind that everything made sense. They told me I realize why things are done the way they are, why people act the way they do, and that all-in-all, everything happens for a reason--that there is in fact a greater plan for everything.

As of right now, I haven't reached the mindset yet. But from where I'm looking, I can tell I'm close. All of the things I want now... I'm realizing more and more that they're possible.

But for them to be possible, I have to overcome fear and doubt or I'll always be stuck where I am, moving but not going anywhere.

Which brings me to Thomas and this crazy notion I have to be with him. I think I can do it, but there's always that doubt, that terror that it won't work and we'll never speak again. Like with the rest.

I'd die if that happened.

And that is why I'm scared.

I need help.

no quote. fuck that.

I... who the fucking hell knows where to begin. This whole entire thing brings back bad memories and regrets I wish I didn't have. My mind is rotting with confusion and the bile is slowly rising in my throat.

Thomas has always been my friend, even through the worst, the best, and the dirtiest. He's probably one of my favorite people, whether he is a little bitch or not. He helps me when I need it, and I love returning the favor. His girl problems and his drama will always out weigh mine, and that's what makes us so close.

Not to mention we're practically the same person. He's just a tad bit more of a girl than me.

Lucky me, Ben is in every one of my classes, though so is Thomas so the good equals the bad.

My problem though is image. I don't want a boyfriend, because I can't have one. The commitment and the monotony will eat me away, just like it did with Jack. The worthless piece of shit.

Leave that be, past is past. But how can I live anymore, with all of this confusion? Don't get me wrong, suicidal is surely something I am not... for now - medication does wonders, let me tell you.

I'm in love with Thomas. I know this without a doubt. It's tangible and real. For the first time, with him, I feel jealous and passionate. But also for the first time, I can't express myself. I've never given myself to someone so much that I lay my trust within them.

Except, I'm still me and he still him. I have my ways, and slowly, as the year goes by and our friendship twists and turns, I see him changing. He's forming to fit a mold of someone I can't help but feel as though I have created.

Not months ago, he'd describe to me his agonizing need to have a girlfriend. But now, all is wants is sex, the more the better, with as many girls as he can fit in to his schedule.

Each time, it tears me apart. I know, if I said he word, he would come to me, he would be mine. But there's something stopping me. Old habits die hard, I suppose.

My fear now is that everything he's said, about marriage and us and him caring abot me, is slowly fading away. Falling into the grip of passion, I slept with him--and sure enough, what they say is true.

Sex with someone you care about is the best sex you can have. Who would have thought? But now, our hour upon hour long conversations regarding everything and more lying under the sun have died out.

Now, we only talk when were about to meet up and fuck.

It's come to that.

As it always does.

The circle of life is a big pile of shit, and I plan on derailing it. I just, well, I just have to figure out how while finding the gumption to do it.

I'm writing now, everything and nothing, to keep myself sane. Drugs would be my normal outlet, but being clean sort of shits on that.

As I side not, I posted a post exactly one year ago from today with Thomas as the topic. I really, in all honesty, hope I'm meant to be with him. Because if I'm not, I don't know what I'll do.

HELP.
yes, please.

Labels: Thomas

"Sometimes, you need to do what's best for you..."

I...I...I don't even know where to begin. Jack is, bottom line, a complete asshole. I want nothing, forever more, to do with him. Bailey... well, Bailey is on probation right now for an incident I'd really rather not mention. She isn't allowed to speak to me or my new roomate, Shauna. I suppose that's understandable, as it is us that got her in trouble; however it was trouble she willingly walked right into...

Serena and I are slowly repairing the failed patches in our friendship. And I'm so...happy about that. But more importantly, I've found a new friend in Shauna. She's... she's so much like me it should be considered illegal. She has very few cares in the world, but she's smart and we have so many things in common. And that didn't totally sound like a lesbian gushing over her bitch... Regardless, Shauna is someone I can trust. She's drama-less and yet still carefree. She has similar morals as me... and quite frankly, she just doesn't give a shit. But sadly, it's summer, and her family resides in Ohio. So, until a few days before the first semester starts, Shauna's MIA as well.

Which only leaves me with Serena, and Holly too. But...they aren't like me anymore. They're ...snudy? And uptight, and too self-centered. They don't know how to have fun. At least not my kind of fun.

And then there's Ben. God, how I wish...he wasn't so complicated. He's pure perfection with every breath. Words can't even describe, but for the first time I'm put into a position where he...he doesn't care! He doesn't want me like I want him. Which is something so new to me, it's heartbreaking. I don't know what to do to get him. I've already made he first move... and then the second. And then the third. And somewhere in between that, he's only come to me once.

How I wish he was a clingy asshole like the rest. Him and Anthony are certainly a new breed. I've never, however cocky this sounds, come across a man I could not will into my bed. It's strange to finally meet my match. Even with Anthony, his fuck-hole ways soon got to his head, and he always came crawling back for more. But Ben, he's just different. And I hate it, but in reality, it's what makes me like him all that much more.

I said I wouldn't have to come back here, and will out my thoughts. But here I am, barely two months later, already defeated by life. I need a sign, in a time like this. That's what I always look for. Though, I know there won't be one. Ben...he doesn't want me. And no matter how hard I try, they'll always be someone better, in his mind at least.

Even confidence can't win me over. I swear to God... ugh. I want him so bad, and I think knowing I can't have him makes it that much worse. I could write and write about how his dismantled skills keep me up at night, or how I dream the most thorough dreams of being in his arms. And for me, that's a rarity. A never-ity, if you really want to know.

I guess faith is what I need, but after Jack and his epic failureness, i have little left in me to fight.

Sometimes, I have to remind myself to breathe.

Labels: Bailey, Ben, Jack, Serena, Shauna

"It's age old reason...
love's the only one holding back."

I feel so stupid. So utterly, repulsively stupid. I think, given the right cirumstances, I would be in love with Thomas. I think, in reality, I am in love with Thomas.

But it's just not... he's just not... I'm not ready... he's... He's not Anthony. And the moreso I think that's the reason I don't want to be with him is because he isn't Anthony, the moreso I realize I've been using that as an excuse.

I'm not moving in on Thomas because he isn't... isn't what? I'm not too sure. But I do know what he is and he is... just not right for me.

He's desperate. That seems to happen to me a lot lately. Desperate boys attacking me like pirranhas. It's awful really, and yet I can't seem to shake him. He's such a wonderful person and he tries so hard; even though he damn sure knows I'm half-way-to-partially being in love with Shane. And Jack. And Anthony.

It's like an endless circle and I can't seem to escape.

He's a good guy, and he makes me laugh--Thomas, I mean. Yet, he is everything I don't want. He's clingy, and nobody likes clingy. He's needy, and again, no thank you. He's overbearing, and did I mention clingy? That really pisses me off.

But enough with him, because I know what I'm doing now, and it doesn't involve him. I want to be his friend and only his friend. Too much more would cause drama and pain I don't need to be bothered with.

Now onto worse problems. Well, I'm in CA now, sitting in the guest room of Shane's albeit gorgeous apartment townhouse. It's absolutely... small. But so perfect for me. I love it out here. But let's rewind.

I got airplane tickets for Friday night. And Wednesday night Serena and Bailey threw me a going away party (even if I'm only going to be gone two weeks). Attendees of the bash? Anthony, of course. Does that boy not going anywhere without alcohol? And then there was Jack.

Anthony got, of course, busted off his ass drunk and popped enough prescription meds to shit out his own Drug Mart. He made pass after pass at me and offered me quote-unquote "the world." He, get this, told me he loved me. Kissed me senseless. And then passed out on his face. But prior, barfed his guts out on my bathroom floor. What a lovely individual, wouldn't you say?

I hate him. I really do. He's everything I use to want. Everything I use to love. And now? Now he's nothing but a memory and something nice to look at. Fuck him. Just... just.. Fuck HIM.

Jack, well, handsome Jack followed me to the airport. Friday night. There he was, sitting in the terminal like a scene out of one of those retarded love movies. He stood there and he called my name. And I was stupid enough to walk over to him.

He apparently just wanted to say good-bye. Literally. That's all that happened.

But that's how Jack is. That's how he has always been. He's unpredictable, personable, yet totally unreadable. Maybe that's why I'm so attracted to him...

Either way, I'm in Calin now. Not for long, but long enough. And when I get back, things will have to be dealt with. Am I staying, am I moving? Boys. Boys. BOYS.

My head hurts. It's late. Goodnight.

Labels: Anthony, Jack, Shane, Thomas

"In shallow holes,

moles make fools of dragons."



I mentioned some time back that I had lost my cell phone and gotten another to replace, but in the process of losing, looking, and re-purchasing, my contact list was obliterated. Erasing important numbers I had not memorized (shocker, Anthony's, but not Jack's!). This event also cleared Thomas' number, which for the passed few days I have been sort of... pining for.

Usually, this is a post I would find pointless, as I have recently posted one regarding similar issues yesterday. However with Ryan MIA, I have no one to confide in; no one to listen to me. And while this stupid little computer diary doesn't respond to my issues, I feel better once I've posted and can re-read my dexterity.

If there is anything good about me aside from physical appearance (don't take that negatively...), I am a good actress when it comes down to it. I may be a one-time crackwhore, a past-life pothead, and I may have gone to rehab for Alcoholism. Yet, the one thing I pride myself on is my acting ability. I suppose it is because after all these years of lying, I've just gotten supremely good at it. Though, I've yet to harness my skill for anything worth while aside from lying, maybe I will in the future, but that's a topic for a later time.

In my life, I have asked for many things; some may call it praying. Though I can't say I'm really asking God for help, but moreso--any higher power that'll listen to me. A zit popped up on my nose, and I'd ask him to erase it. My grandfather was hanging on for his life, and I asked him to give me a few more months. My driving test was wrecking havoc on my nerves, I asked to pass. My family went through a rough patch where money was scarce, I asked for more. For courage, for power, for... fame. You name it, and I've undoubtedly asked for it. It's greedy and selfish and while I know that, it never stopped me.

Although, as of yet, my askings have been left unanswered. The zit? Took a week to clear up. My grandpa is still dying, slowly, but sadly. My driving test was a waste of time and I hit on the instructor to pass. As for money? We're better off, but don't expect to see our name on the Forbes list any time soon. I have little courage, skim power, and as for fame, you'd think I'd be writing on Blogspot?

Until yesterday. Like I said, I lost my contacts and Thomas' number in the process. Recently, I've been asking that he'd call me. After all, that's how we first started talking in the first place. He called me for one thing or another, and we couldn't hang up. So I thought, why not ask to sorta... rewind time? Not literally, but in enough sense that the past would repeat itself, and he would call me once again.

I started thinking of ways I could lure him into my trap. They were all what-ifs and the scenarios are nothing short of fiction, but my imagination never stops.

My first ploy was to walk across the street to the hotel a few blocks down, call him, ask him to pick me up, and cry in his arms. However, that's not only manipulative, because that probably wouldn't stop me anyway, but I didn't have his number and I'm not really a crier.

I then thought, hey, how about a mysterious bruise on my face? And an imaginary boyfriend that hit me? Thinking it through, none of that would work, as bruising my face would probably hurt more than worth, and chances are, he'd call the police on Domestic Violence... for a guy that didn't even exist.

So, instead, I sulked in my dorm, watched a few epis of Gilmore Girls, and sulked some more. Then, suddenly from the dresser behind me, my phone vibrated loudly, causing my to jump abruptly and spill the popcorn in my lap. When I reached for my phone, it was a text from a number I didn't know. I asked who it was, then coyly texted Bailey for the number.

Lo and behold, fucking Thomas had texted me. You'd think I'd be up in arms, calling him with unknown bruises and tears pouring out of my eyes like Niagara Falls, but yet, I was second-guessing myself, thinking... Fate doesn't work like this.

Some bitch up there is trying to spite me.

Either way, he never answered my text, so I never go the chance to talk to him. I moved on quickly, shockingly.

Later that night, a few friends and I had a movie night. We reminisced of passed occurrences, and someone brought up Thomas' summer fling with STD Sally. While I've never mentioned her before, there is really nothing worth mentioning. I'm not typically a purpose to talk shit about other people because it simply lands me into drama I don't have time for, however, STD Sally happens to be some one shit worthy. A total and complete whore when it comes down to it, she's made her rounds on half the school, once or twice.

I felt irrevocably repulsed. How could I start something with him again when he had made out with STD Sally? (who for possible later reference was once a close friend of mine) I decided right then that it was useless. All of the signs I had been seeing weren't signs, but merely me being retarded.

Until today. If his name turned up once, it turned up fifteen times. I'm doing research papers for a few classes and it seemed every source I looked up, his name appeared as the author (first name, obviously). The book I started today for my Lit class, oh, who could be the love-interest other than Thomas? The main character refers to her best friend as Thomas, his middle name, while his first name just so happens to be the real Thomas' middle name. Trying reading that without getting a headache.

I keep looking for signs, and I don't know why. I suppose that's what I do. I look for Fate symbols to tell me what to say, how to react; and look how I've turned out so far...

I wish so badly that I could talk to Shane, or anyone who will listen, but I can't because I'm not open, at all. I wish I could throw caution (that isn't really caution) to the wind, and do what my hearts telling me to do. But then, as I look back on it, last year at this same time was when I started talking to Thomas.

So, is it history repeating itself? Or is it my past mistakes rising up from the dead so I can rewrite my wrongdoings?

It's like the age-old glass is half full. Is my glass half full? Or has it already leaked to half empty? For some reason, I like the latter.

Figures.

Labels: Thomas

"Don't let the fear of striking out

keep you from playing the game..."



I should have known it was coming. My life has never, ever been as unpredictable as it has recently. Yet, I want to kick myself for not noticing; it's so... obvious. Right when I've finally got a plan, a thesis for my future, something always comes in and ruins my intentions, however good and un-rebellious they are.

Shane hasn't been much help lately, and in the past few months he's become my confident. But with the side note of his father's death on top of his back to back flights to and from California, he's sort of a lost cause right now. While I want to help him, comfort him in anyway I can, it's hard when he's in Florida, then California, then Florida--and I'm still stuck in NY for a few more weeks.


Like I said, once I've got everything decided, something (or in this case, two somethings) intercepts my otherwise great intentions.


Jack, who I haven't spoken to for quite some time, has taken it upon himself to persuade me not to leave. According to me, we have unfinished business. I, however, was not aware. I thought I had tied up my loose ends, but apparently he slipped through the loop.


"I heard you were leaving."

"I'm graduating early; it's for the best. I don't belong here," I answered.

"What are you running from?"

"Who says I'm running?"

He asked me to have coffee with him, and stupidly, I agreed. It's not that I still don't love him, because in all honesty, much like Anthony, I think I will always love him. He's simply that one boy I won't ever forget, no matter the lengths I should take to try and erase him from my memory.


"I hate to ruin the moment--you know, with you excitement about leaving and all--but you're the one person that makes this place worth coming to," he commented offhandedly.
"I couldn't even begin to understand why."
"I figured you'd say that."


Coffee with Jack reminded me of why I love him. Aside from stunning good-looks and irreplacable chivalry, he's easy to talk to and so utterly relatable. In my four-ish years of knowing him, we've never really gotten to know each other; at least not on a level that counts for anything besides sexual. Perhaps it's his upbringing, though I know deep down it's a sign that if I were to stay, something special could come of that, of him.
Now, I know you're going to assume that I am making a big deal out of nothing, but understand this is just the jist. It isn't everything. If I were to write everything in the specific detail to which it occured, you'd either immediately know who I am, or call the police.

Moving on from Jack, I'd like to state that I haven't spoken to or seen Anthony in at least a month. While I know he's wandering around campus, as Holly has pointedly told me she's given him "rides," I personally find it ridiculous to circle myself again. I'm done with him. I'll say it again.

With Shane, Jack, Anthony, and all of the others combined, wouldn't you love it if I added another into the mix? It's techincally not adding as I've skimmingly mentioned him before.

Thomas, the boy who I completely demolished. For a month, maybe two, we were talking, rather frequently. And I for one was enjoying it. But me, I've always overanalyzed the situation and ruined it with my high standards.

Since I can remember, I've always compared boys to Anthony. They're too corny. They're not as tall, not as muscular. They don't dress like he does. They don't have the money he does. They don't smell like he does, or come on to me like he did. But most of all, they aren't him. They look nothing like him; act nothing like him. And while I know that is absolutely no way to go about anything, especially considering how he treated me, I can't help but do it still to this day. Though the mere fact that I am trying to find a substitute for him should be the least of my worries, I'll never get over the fact that I didn't get him. I think since he turned me down, I've been trying to figure out why.

Somewhere inside, I'm almost sure it's because he isn't the type of guy ready for any sort of relationship other than a one-night-stand. Too bad I can't get that through my thick head.

You'd think I'd be satisfied with having a guy who cared enough about me to call me every night and wish me a good night. Yet, barely a month into it, I was skeptical as always, and began ignoring Thomas' calls. Finally, he got the hint and stopped calling. We barely talked in class, and I ignored him any way I could.

Awkward situations have never been my forte. Not in the slightest.

But now, as of recently, I've climbed the bridge over the awkwardness, and finding that ignoring his calls is one of my biggest mistakes. Though I could give it up to the fact that all of my friends have boyfriends who they so courteously flaunt in my face, and that I want ever so badly to finally have that one guy I can maintain a steady commitment with, I wonder if it's because I really, truely, like him.

Not in the way I like Jack. Or the way I was overwhelminly physically attracted to Anthony. But maybe in a way on a deeper level.

Thomas... is average. In looks. In intelligence. In style. He's basic. But withstanding. And constant. But maybe that's what I need. Maybe, I should settle. Settle for what I can manage. Stop using Anthony as a model for the perfect man, because he is not, by any means, the kind of guy I wish upon any girl.

Except, don't they tell you never settle for the least? Then wouldn't I be doing just that? I guess the real question is, do the pros out weigh the cons?

I know for a fact that if I tried hard enough, I could get back in Thomas' good graces. However, I don't deserve him, not after what I did to him. I know how much he liked me, and I twisted that back and through it at him. After I repeatedly told him I wouldn't. He remembers every detail of our short-term "relationship." The courteous courting dates. The tedious phone calls. The infinite texts begging him to come over and comfort me over a bad day. And even the aftermath, when I'd run into him at school events and he'd completely unawkwardly strike up a conversation with me while I cowered away.

That was a year ago.
And he still remembers.

I'm leaving in a couple of weeks. For good. And Thomas will be nothing but a forgotten memory of a guy I shouldacouldawoulda. Then again, do I have to leave? Internally, I'm chanting yes, but is it really for the best?

Who's to say.



Des

Labels: Anthony, Jack, Shane, Thomas

"Fate determines who enters your life.
Your actions decide who stays..."

March 6th, 2009. My last day of high school.

Lately, I've been having a lot of second guesses. Should I graduate early? I'm only a Junior. Am I even ready to experience the world on my own? Do I want to move out to California with Shane? Can I leave my friends, my family? Is... it... worth... it?

Yes. Yes. I think so. And I hope so.

Everything's finalized--the documents are written up, the lines ready to be signed. All I have to do is take a few exams and I'm done. Done with the beginning of my life. And I haven't even turned seventeen yet! It's scary. I'm scared. But I think I'm ready.

I talked to Shane last night, for the first time in a long time. He didn't have power for the first few nights in CA, and his phone was officially turned on until a couple of days ago. On top of that, he had to et a new cell number to match the Cali area code. Bottom line is, we came to the mutual decision that it would be best if I came out for a few days to see if I liked it. And from there, I'd decide.

I know what will happen though. I really like Shane. Maybe just as a friend, maybe not. But either way, I need to figure out if I can survive by myself without Mommy & Daddy's money. I want to know for sure that I can live on my own, even if I won't really be on my own, I'll still be as far away from everything I know and have grown up with. I want to do this. I need to do this.

That's what I keep telling myself.

Lately, though, to distract myself from the nauseous thoughts of my future, I've been reminiscing the last sixteen years of my life. Or at least the good parts. Reminding myself what I'll miss, what I want to leave, and things I'll never forget. Especially people I won't forget.

Anthony- I'm not going to lie, I'm gonna miss the cracked up son-of-a-bitch. I hope he's happy though. I want him to be happy. I hope him and his girlfriend are happy. But most of all, I hope he fixes himself up; patches up his holes and weathered edges. He deserves to be happy, I think. I'm probably the only one that knows is back story, aside from his good guy friends. And I like to think that he's going to get better. He'll graduate next year, and my biggest fear is that I'll see his name in the obituaries. I think, however, I'm finally at a point where I can honestly say I wouldn't be as sad as I would have been eight months ago. If that makes any sense...

Ryan- Wherever he is, whatever he's doing, whoever he's with; I hope he's okay. It scary knowing that I don't know. He'll be alright, I know him. He's, if anything, a survivor. And he too deserves the best. I haven't heard any news about him lately, as I haven't talked to my mother in weeks. When I went to visit him at the hospital a few days after my relapse, he was gone. And as I am not family, it would be just simply fucking stupid to divulge any information to me. I just hope he's cleaned up his act since the last time I saw him. It would break my heart if he... we won't go there.

Serena/Holly/Bailey- Maybe they'll realize drama isn't going to do anything and rumors will only destroy the little they have left. Ha. I don't plan on keeping in touch as much as I should. I'll still talk to them, but well, I just don't care anymore.

Jack- Who is still a mystery to me, will probably forever plague my mind. It's he who always seems to come back right when I think he won't.

"I'm not gonna lie, I'mma miss you, D."
"Hey, we'll keep in touch. Text me. Maybe you can come visit." Lies. Lies. Lies.
"I feel like we never really got the chance we should have gotten."
"I guess so. It wouldn't have worked out though, Jack."
He winked, grinning slyly. "You never know..."

I can't say where it will go with him.

As for new boys, and new drama. There isn't much. There's Ben, whom I love. He's hilarous and adorable, and undoubtedly crazy. I like that he makes me laugh without trying. But I'm leaving, he's staying, and that's that.

Until... sometime.

Desiree

Labels: Anthony, Bailey, Ben, Holly, Jack, Ryan, Serena, Shane

"A downhill spiral is what cause the Great Depression..."


As always, life isn't going my way. Recently, my friends have all taken up with their boyfriends or new best friends. And me? Well, I've been neglected, I suppose.

Though part of it is my fault; I've been sheltering myself away from any outing for reasons I don't even understand. I'm trying really hard at well, life. I've been working my ass off to get my grades to my liking and still graduate with honors.

But, with fucking Anthony only feet from my bed, it's hard to sleep. And without sleep, well, there is no functioning, right?

Ah, Anthony. He's been... a totally asshole as usual, though I still seem a tad bit fixated on me. However, I'm in a mental version of Anthony-rehab, and I'm making the attempt to get over what ever it is I think he means to me. There really is no use to discuss anything further involving him, like his new (though not all that new) girlfriend, his pending fight with the guy who told his partially new girlfriend that he cheated on her (which he did, obviously), or his adamant insults on my part.

On the other hand, there's Jack. Me and him? Yeah, we haven't talked since Homecoming night, and shockingly, I'm happy about that. Turns out, he isn't what I thought he was. He's about as innocent as I am, though minus the addicting past. Still wouldn't mind talking to him again... But I'm moving on.

New guys? Oh yes, of course. Two, particularly. One named Shane, the other named... Shane. Though for all intended purposes of unconfusing you to be exact, one will be called Logan.

Shane? Shane is the exact opposite of Anthony. He's polite, his mouth vomits "ma'am" and "sir," and he talks to me like a normal guy, which for me, is hard to come by. He's older, a senior and graduating in the so distant future. Though I have class with him and sometimes hang out with him after. I like being with him. But I know I don't stand a chance. Bringing myself to consciously flirt with him would be purposely burying myself in a hole. He's Anthony's sworn enemy, and while that doesn't seem to matter as much anymore, he's moving. To California no less. Across the fucking country. Just my luck, you know.

Now Logan, he... is absolutely nothing when it comes to future. He's just a kid who likes me and I'm just a girl who likes... testosterone. He's -- different, if that does any justice. Not weird or eerie, but just different from the rest of the assembly line jackasses boarding school produces. Though whatever I do, I am conscious in not doing anything. If that makes any sense.

As for me, well, all of this jumble that you've wasted a life time reading, only adds up to my decision to graduate early and get the HELL out of here. Nothing is going right for me, and I don't expect the tables to turn.

No drugs? Yes, I've abandoned it completely, though fighting the itch is harder than I thought...
No cutting? On occasion, but moderation isn't the worse right?
Alcohol? Oh me? Well, you know... can't give up everything.
Boys? Eliminating them from my life completely.
Girls? Bitches. That's what it comes down to.

I'm devoting my life to school because education is the only thing I have going for me. I've gotten a scholarship offer to a school I actually want to go to. Berkeley. My mother would be proud: if I told her. And, on top of that, Shane and I have already decided that if I go early, and he's already left for the big So-Cal, I'll hit him up and we'll get together, talk things through. I've heard from a friend (you know the line), and his original intentions when giving me his number was to have a future plan for residency. Meaning, in literal terms average people without manners speak, he wants to get an apartment with me.

Things will only get better from now on, that's what I want to focus on. If I hit the books like I plan on, and ace all of my semester exams, I'll graduate before this years even over, and I won't even have finished my junior year.

Let's just hope it works out.
You know it won't. It's me, let's be real.

Labels: Anthony, Jack, Logan, Shane

"You'll do anything to escape the habit of living...
until the escape becomes the habit..."

It all started in seventh grade when I caught my father banging the seventeen-year-old neighbor girl I looked up to as a role model. A series of events before and after that occurence left me in the hospital for attempted suicide by slitting my wrists with a pair of dull children's scissors.

I cut my wrists for a year after that until my mother sent me to a rehab facility. I was thirteen.

I came out refreshed, with only the scars as the reminder. But, a couple of months later, my mother informed me I would not be attending our local high school. Instead, I would attend a bording school where I could escape the drama my family life had become. Her and I both knew it was for the best, though I still left with resentment. Yet, weeks into my freshman year away from home, I came to love my new habitat. It was everything my home life wasn't. Well, until I started running into familiar faces. Anthony, for one. Bailey another.

I'd been good since then and I hadn't thought once about slitting my wrists. Until tonight.

It started this morning when I woke up in the arms of (but of course) Jack. Contrary to popular belief, we have not had sex. He simply fills a void I only recently realized I had. He spends the night quite frequently, and we occasionally kiss. We've started a pattern. Though our pattern is quite sinful.

He's "talking" to Serena. By that I mean not techincally dating because she is working her way into another man's heart, but they flirt in that unrespectable I-want-you banter. More than I do. He also, above all, has a girlfriend in the school slut. Irony's a bitch.

As he was leaving my dorm, his top shirt slung over his shoulder, he turned around at the door and kissed my cheek. It was a sign of affection I wished he hadn't have shown. Nonetheless, I smiled up at him and shut the door as he walked away. Nearly seconds later, the door flung open and I smirked.

"Forget something?" I asked, my back turned.
"Fucking hell, Des, what was Jack doing in your Dorm looking like he just screwed a girl!?"

Anthony. What else? I stood up, shocked, and tried to act like it was nothing. We were simply friends, with benefits, much like Anthony and I. That's what I told him, but of course, he didn't take to that all too well.

"You have no fucking respect for me." he yelled, his hands balled.
"Why the HELL would I respect you?"

Now this is where I become a whore. I spent the night in one boy's arms (we still didn't have sex) and I found myself, an hour later, in the arms of another. He wrapped his arms around my naked front and I felt dirty. Like Jenna Jameson or something.

Unfortunately, that's not the bad part.

"I think I love you, Desi."

I turned around to look at him, so utterly appalled it should have been illegal. That's when I realized it. In the early afternoon's sunshine, the rays coming in from my side window, his eyes sparkled a dark brown and his pupils where the size of the tip of a needle. It suddenly it him.

He was high.

I pushed him out of my bed like he was light as a pillow and he fell with a thud. I yelled at him, slapped him across the face a couple of times and told him to get out, that I never wanted to see him again. Though part of me thinking this was a sick joke Matt concoted. My heart, however, sang to the tune of "Drunken minds speak sober thoughts."

As soon as he came, he too, was gone. I fell asleep minutes after I heard the door slam shut, sucked into a world of happiness that awaited me in my dreams. When I woke up, around 6:30, I got a call from Ryan's mother. A call I could have lived without.

"He's in the hospital, Desiree. Three gunshot wounds to the chest."

Her words were slurred, whether literally or in my barely comprehending mind, I do not know. Though I broke down in tears and heard her utter simple words.

"Don't leave school though, dear. The doctor's say it's fifty-fifty and if he dies, I don't want you to have to drive back to school in the condition you will be in."

Selfless. Lifeless. Cruel. Fucking. Cunt-ass. Bitch.
That's what I thought as I slammed the phone against the wall, hoping it'd disconnect, or if luck have it, break her face in two.

I debated for the next two hours whether or not I should go, despite his mother's advice. It was almost nine when I realized I hadn't eaten all day and should have something -- if even a glass of water -- before I would ultimately pack my bags and leave.

After a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, I decided coffee would be a good idea for the long drive ahead of me. I pulled out the container of coffee grains and I noticed it was a new one. Instead of the plastic cylinder holding the ungrinded beans, I found a metal can containing already grained. I ignored the subtle sign I'd only later actually think of as a real sign and slipped my hand in to scoop some out. As I pulled it out in a rushed and frantic surge, I slit my wrists on the edge.

That's when euphoria overcame me.

I ran to the bathroom with a kitchen steak knife and horizontally cut two individual lines on both my left and right. Now, I sit in my room, nowhere close to where I should be with Ryan, relinquising in the last minutes of my Addernol high, bandages wrapped around my wrists.

Don't you wish I was making this up?
Fucking hell.

Labels: Anthony, Jack, Matt, Ryan, Serena

"It's hard to get up...
when you've been knocked down so many times."

When I said I would finish my story, in all honesty, I meant it. But, as always, life twists me around and my computer is the least of my worries. As I was skimming through my e-mails the other day though, I realized how much this retarded blog actually helped me. It was like going to a psychiatrist that won't "How do you feel about that?" after my every comment. My blog won't judge me. Ha, how trivial?

It's November now and I can safely say I have made it through the last few months hanging on to a dwindling rope. Homecoming was in September and for borded kids, homecoming doesn't signify a big football game with kings and queens and a court alike. It means, "Welcome to your home away from the sucky one you already have, hope it doesn't suck for you as much as it's sucked for the classes before you!" Nonetheless, we bought dresses, did our hair, our nails, and bought scantily clad thongs to wear under those too-short dresses with the too-long heels.

The dance was wild and freshman were lucky to leave with their virginity. As always, stupid principals see it as a good idea to host the dance in a hotel ballroom. We, as students, don't have a problem, but of course our parents do. And every year there's a certain mom who calls in complaining. But every year, we find our way around it and the dance pulls through like light in the darkness. And as we left the heated grind-bash a half hour early, I wondered, momentarily, if it would be a cozy night in the dorm, watching horror movies.

Anthony was a no show, if that's what you are thinking. Currently, him and I are done. Done. As. Fuck. He's a dead-beat, drug-fuck, who's suddenly turned his body into a chalkboard for tatoos. I'm repulsed by him, and he the same. Yet, I have dreams about him that don't involve clothing or (shocker) protection. But forget him and his petty hydronically powered weed. I have a story to tell.

We ended up at some kid's after party, and I found myself pinned to a wall by... Jack. Apparently, boy is not the man I thought he was. He kissed me senseless and I thought for a second I was with Anthony. That's how bad it has gotten. As he untied the bow around my neck holding my dress up, I suddenly found my long-lost conciscience. I grabbed the top of it, covering my breasts as I kissed him one last time, just incase it was my last.

"Jack... I can't do this." I said, breathless.
"Why can't you?" His rebuttle.
"...I don't know."

And I didn't, so I ran, tying my dress back up along the way, leaving a hot and bothered shirtless boy I once couldn't get out of my mind boned and alone in a bedroom.

When I slammed open my dorm door a half hour and a taxi ride later, I found the lights on and the smell of popcorn in the air. I called out Serena's name, and after hearing no reply, called out Holly's (new roomate, save that for later, kay?) name only to be finally answered by none other than Ryan. What a turn of events?

He was bruised. His eye black, his wife beater showing darkened bruising arms and healing cuts. A cast burdened his right arm and for a second, I lost my breath. I asked if he was okay, hugging him close in my embrace. He said he was fine, not to worry, it didn't matter. I shrugged it off, knowing him better than to ask.

We ended up sleeping on the couch that night, I fell asleep wearing my formal dress. He smelled different, like expensive cologne. The odor of stale cigarettes no longer lingered on his breath as I kissed his cheek goodnight, resting my head on his shoulder.

In the morning when I awoke, he'd be gone and I'd be left confused. As I still am. His phone is disconnected and his mother and my mother haven't heard anything from him since August.

I'm worried but I don't show it. Shockingly, it's locked away with the rest of my emotions. Pft.

"it's funny how things change...

in the blink of an eye, everything's different..."


I can't even begin to explain what has been going on for the last four months, but as usual, I'll try to get the main point across.

Let's first and foremost get one thing straight: I lied when I insinuated I was a senior. I felt that having the knowledge I was merely a sophmore would give you the wrong idea, though apart from that, every word I typed was true. Every. Single. Word.

I am, though in fact, a compulsive liar and do make up more things than are true, but here in the world of divulgAnce, I have decided (aside from the age conspiracy) I will be completely honest.

And in all honesty, I am going to make an attempt at describing the epic adventures of my life -- even if it takes two posts.

After my superstitons post, things were rather quiet for a while. Anthony was in another state. Ryan had seemingly fallen off the face of the Earth. Bailey found a new... dissappointing boyfriend named Aiden, leaving Serena and I in the cold.

But as the beginning of August soon approached and Junior year was looking closer and closer by each day, we had to have one final blow out. Our town has a huge festival to kick off the beginnng of "Back-to-School" month, and Serena and I decided to go against our better judgement and be in attendance. Bailey went too, but of course, she was with Aiden and his/her new friends.

While we were divulging in the glories of cotton candy and funnel cakes, I received a call from none other than the magnificent dissappearing Ryan. I will not lie when I say my heart stopped, seeing his name appear on my caller-ID. In a way, part of me felt sick. It was loud at the festival, and whatever he said, I couldn't hear him. I shouted for him to call me back, and talk to me when I could hear him -- but of course I don't know his response. I haven't heard much out of him since.

On the walk home, we ran into an old Jr. High friend whose name is pointless. The only thing you need to know is she dated Anthony's friend, Chris, and had built a somewhat sturdy relationship with Anthony himself. She was quick to inform us that he was coming back. Back to bording school. Back to... everything.

That was the second time I felt sick that day.

Sometime before school started again, Serena and I were driving back from the city when I got a rather informal text reading, "Are you havin' 'ya girls over tonight?"

Now, a few days prior I had lost my cell phone and gotten a new one, but in the process all of my numbers were deleted, including his. I will honestly say I do not, to this day, have his number memorized, but I do know the first three digits. And upon seeing those three digits, I launched for Serena's phone and looked up his number. Sure enough, jackass was back in town and instead of a proper greeting, he was already asking for much more than he deserved.

I turned him down, though while ignoring his advances, still making my own attempt to be his friend. I fucking can't help myself and it makes me sick.

Today we moved into the co-ed dorms. Guess who's ironically two doors down? Anthony. The asshole himself. And on top of that, I miss Jack, even though I know I need him like I need another hole in the heart. When did my life go from finally serene to whorey and schooled all in one week?

I want to die.

Labels: Aiden, Anthony, Bailey, Chris, Ryan, Serena

"When you believe things you don't understand...
you suffer... very superstitious..."

I'm not superstitious, I am simply just... "stitious." I believe that there are those few people out there with the power to read your mind, or psychically connect to future. But I most positively do NOT believe in those silly, childish bulletins people post on Myspace. I'm talking about the ones that say "OMFG U R SO TOTALLY NOT GUNA BLEAVE WHT THIS DOES ITZZ LYKK FUCKIN CRAZY CHINESE HOROSCOPE OMG U HAVE 2 TRY IT!!!!!!!!!!!"

To me, that's complete bullshit. So, what led me to open one earlier tonight is beyond me. Usually, those are the things that make me close the window and back away from the computer. But this stuck to me. I opened it, and embarassingly enough - completed the questions. Mind you, before answering some of the questions - I second guessed. Instead of filling in "Lollipop" for number eleven I opted for "Brand New." For eight, I decided on "Bye, Bye" instead of "Viva la Vida." That's maybe what scares me the most.

Next to numbers 1 & 2 write down any two numbers you want.
1. 4
2. 211
Next to 3 & 7, write down 2 members of the opposite sex.
3. Anthony
7. Jack
Next to 4, 5, & 6 - write down any 3 people's names.
4. Mom
5. My nephew, Michael
6. My cousin, Isabella
For 8, 9, 10, & 11, write down 4 song titles.
8. Bye, Bye
9. Leavin'
10. Get Silly
11. Brand New

#2 is the number of people that like you.
#3 is the person you love.
#7 is the person you like but your relationship cannot work.
#4 is the person you care most about.
#5 is a person who knows you very well.
#6 is your lucky star.
#8 song title matches with the person in #3.
#9 song title is for the person in #7.
#10 song title tells you most about your mind.
#11 song title tells you how you feel about life.


You don't know me, and we both know that. But from what you do know, tell me that isn't the strangest thing that could ever happen? Everything I've been feeling, the mixed conceptions with boys, my family life, the problems I've been having with addiction, and so on... I feel like it's been answered..? Don't worry though I don't plan on letting this sill bulletin get to my mind. It's not going to stop me from doing anyhting, but it will, if anything confuse me more.

Once again, fuck my life.

Labels: Anthony, Jack

"Stop worrying about what might hold you down,
and pay attention to why you're standing up..."

Anthony and I have decided to end our so-called friendship. It's really not worth trying anymore. I've come to the decision that I need to be finished with him. While the best decision would be to forget his rotten, conceited ass all together, I know that's impossible. He's too much of a part of me to be forgotten.

But it's foolish of me to sit here thinking, "I could have a chance..." because I know that I don't. You have to understand that I'm the kind of girl that will pick a guy she likes out and have him by the end of the night. Not by looks, or by slutty-ness, but simply by personality.

With Anthony, though, it's different. He's head-over-heels in love with Madeline and she's nothing I could ever compete with. With any other guy, I could probably win, but with him... it's different. There is no competition or try your hardest. He knows what he wants, much like I do, and he knows how to get it. I'm happy he's happy, and there's nothing else to it.

Jack, on the other hand, I know I could get if I tried hard enough. I know he likes me, whether or not he'd come out and say it. He's a flirt. He's a player. He's adorably amazing. The only problem is, he's too perfect. Tell me honestly, how stupid does that sound?

He barely ever utters a single profanity. The only thing he drinks is water, and maybe an occasional Coke. He doesn't smoke anything short of dust from his four-wheeler. He's everything I'm not, and maybe everything I need...

There's a party Friday night that I hope to see him at. I want to try to make it work with him. Or at least start talking to him again. It's weird not seeing him and knowing that I probably won't see him again until next summer, assuming we aren't going to the same college, I need to be able to talk with him whenever I want. I miss him.

But, jumping far ahead of myself, I keep wondering what if something did happen? Would it even be possible for me to maintain something with him? Better question yet, is it even possible to begin with? I'm sure he's heard rumors, true or not, about my past - especially that last corrupted month.... would he even want to bother? Who cares if he likes me...

Fuck my life.
Maybe I should stop second-guessing myself for once in my life and let whatever is going to happen simply just happen.

Yeah, easier said than done.

Labels: Anthony, Jack, Madeline

"It's not a mistake...
'til someone gets killed."

I really can't say why I did it.

The best way I can explain it... is like having an itch on your nose while baking. Your hands are covered in flour and you know that once your scratch that itch, there will be flour on your nose. So you try to control yourself - try not to scratch it - but the urge, the itch, it's too strong, you know? And you give in, covering your nose with flour.

That's how I've been feeling. I've had this itch to get high. A sudden, repulsive urging itch that was just begging to be scratched. And last night... I gave in.

I went to a before-your-last-exams party and took more prescription pills than anyone should ever even be prescribed. Connor says I took 5 Xanex and 3 Adderall. I'm sure he's right, but the thing is - that was just at the party. I don't even remember being in a car that entire night, until we left the party, so I had to have been completely stoned on the way there.

It wouldn't have been a biggie, except on the way home, I got a ride with Anthony's friend, James. James just so happens to not have his license, and he was packing daddy's brand new Lexus. He was going 75 in our neighborhood and just so happened to slam full force into a tree. I was in the back with Bailey, but Anthony was in the front. He didn't get crazy hurt, but he did sprain his ankle.

Bailey, Anthony, and I booked out of the car. Caught ridin' with a kid who doesn't have his license and who also mistook a tree for who the hell knows what isn't exactly sparkling on your record. So we bailed.

We ended up at Anthony's house, and I woke up the next morning with my only memory being the accident an Anthony running from the car on one leg.

I might've wiped the flour off with a cold towel, but I keep thinking what if Anthony would've gotten really hurt? Or James had hit someone instead of just a tree? I think that's gonna be my last big take, I've gotta call it quits before someone does get hurt, or even killed. You know what they say if you keep pushing your limits... right?

I don't want that to happen.
I can't let that happen...

D

Labels: Anthony, Bailey, James