It's 6:31. Your 24 hours are up. Hopefully the positive attitude will continue anyway.
You're a brat.
You're also a sweetheart.
People love you.
You'll learn to live with it.
Maybe you'll even think you deserve it someday too.
<3
Wednesday, November 9, 2011
Dance, Fucker Dance.
It was a good night. And then it wasn't.
Shoulda stuck to drink'n lone. I didna know... bout... bout things. Not my place to say. M'sorry everybody. I did a bad thing.
And it all started cause a stupid anger. Stupid, stupid anger.
FUCK YOU
AND FUCK YOU
AND ESPECUA-
fuck that word righ now.
FUCK YOU A LOT.
Yea, you, you get a lot of fuck yous in the face. You know how many times... how many times making Lissie cry is too many? NO? Let me make it abundentally clear that you crossed that line fucker.
I am not happy bout it. Nosirree.
...olordy Lissie'll read thisinthemorniggg...
fuck it. ss'allready mornin.
m'really, really sorry.
Sunday, November 6, 2011
Nostalgia dump-friendship
Past.
It's funny when you think of first meetings. I talk so much about friends, about Tia. Tia's my best friend. She's the only one who would have me for years. She'd deny that. She'd reflect the words back at me, but it's true.
Halfway into Sophomore year. Nearly a year after the incident which shattered my life. The skinny bastard, I hear you say?
No.
Just general, life sometimes falls apart, screwed up-ness. It's funny how your peers treat you when your mother runs your father out of the house at gunpoint, he leaves town, and nobody explains why. It's funny what assumptions are made when you have a sudden shift of personality. It's funny how things change when you let yourself be a victim.
I let myself be a victim.
Nearly halfway into Sophomore year in a mid-sized town in southern Alabama, I was alone as I'd never been alone before. I was scared of the world. Why? Because people exploit weakness. Especially teenagers.
I was getting picked on. Again. Messed with. Again. Pushed around. Again. People exploit weakness.
There was a new girl at school that day. On her first day, she stepped in and defended me. With words and with fists. I was in shock. Funny, that. Someone standing up for me surprised me more than the torment itself. Only a year ago, I would have been able to deal for myself. Funny how people let you fall when you break. When your situation is no longer viable for what they see as the requirements for their friendship.
She got sent home, of course.
As did I, even though all I'd done was sit there on the floor and let people do what they would. Funny how that works. Funny how in this world we are in, in the schools, the victim and defender are punished just as much as the aggressor. Well, possibly not just as much. I'm not here to talk about the state of the public education system, though. We'll save that for another day.
Of course, I had to go back the next day. Of course.
Doodled my way through classes, answered questions they thought I wasn't paying attention to. The usual. Tried to ignore people in the hall. Things slipped into my locker. The usual. The lunchroom. Sitting alone again as always. The usual.
Or not. This girl comes over to my table and just sort of sits down. I watched her for a long moment over the top of my book. Of course it was the chick from the day before. Of course. That's not embarrassing in the least, some random stranger deciding to step in on your daily session of being bullied.
She was new in town. On edge, especially after the day before. All I got from her that first day is that her name was Tia, and her dad had gotten transferred to the Army base near town. I apologized for the day before, of course. (I always apologize) She just frowned at me for that.
She didn't necessarily want to make friends at first. Said her family moved too much, anyway. Somehow I managed to worm my way past that, though. She needed a friend. She was angry, bitter, and far too used to leaving people behind. And well, at that point, my pickings were slim. Besides the fact that she ended up having my back in later incidents as well. Honestly, I said it back then, and I'll say it now. I appreciate the sentiment of threatening someone for my sake, but it's not worth that.
She became one of the best people I've had in my life. More than I would dare to ask for. Tia could do much better than some broken little... mouse for a friend. I was rebuilding, though. I always rebuild.
We were friends for two and a half years before she moved. He father got transferred again. All the way across the country. She got distant again when she found out. After all, we had promised to be there for each other. We had promised no to let the other get hurt. That we would see each other happy. And we both so hate to break promises. We talked. We decided to finish out the year like nothing was going wrong. We would stay in touch. I was stubborn about that. I couldn't lose another friend after Jared killed himself.
People don't always leave. People don't always abandon you. I repeated these words to her more than once in those last few months.
And we did stay in touch. Life went on. Things changes, we lost people. We gained people. We were there for each other through our highs and lows. Whether over the phone or over the internet.
Hell, this is the person who, when all of this started just some months ago, picked up and drove to Alabama from California simply because she was worried about me. Because she wanted to protect me.
People look at us and see what they want to see. A tall, strong, independent-seeming, gorgeous woman and a small, fragile, shy, dependent-seeming, cute girl. There's so much more there. So much more than what's on the outer layer of things. So much more than what someone might see as possessiveness. So much more than the shaky attempts to drive us apart. You do not know the half of it, even with this post. And you probably never will.
It's funny when you think of first meetings. I talk so much about friends, about Tia. Tia's my best friend. She's the only one who would have me for years. She'd deny that. She'd reflect the words back at me, but it's true.
Halfway into Sophomore year. Nearly a year after the incident which shattered my life. The skinny bastard, I hear you say?
No.
Just general, life sometimes falls apart, screwed up-ness. It's funny how your peers treat you when your mother runs your father out of the house at gunpoint, he leaves town, and nobody explains why. It's funny what assumptions are made when you have a sudden shift of personality. It's funny how things change when you let yourself be a victim.
I let myself be a victim.
Nearly halfway into Sophomore year in a mid-sized town in southern Alabama, I was alone as I'd never been alone before. I was scared of the world. Why? Because people exploit weakness. Especially teenagers.
I was getting picked on. Again. Messed with. Again. Pushed around. Again. People exploit weakness.
There was a new girl at school that day. On her first day, she stepped in and defended me. With words and with fists. I was in shock. Funny, that. Someone standing up for me surprised me more than the torment itself. Only a year ago, I would have been able to deal for myself. Funny how people let you fall when you break. When your situation is no longer viable for what they see as the requirements for their friendship.
She got sent home, of course.
As did I, even though all I'd done was sit there on the floor and let people do what they would. Funny how that works. Funny how in this world we are in, in the schools, the victim and defender are punished just as much as the aggressor. Well, possibly not just as much. I'm not here to talk about the state of the public education system, though. We'll save that for another day.
Of course, I had to go back the next day. Of course.
Doodled my way through classes, answered questions they thought I wasn't paying attention to. The usual. Tried to ignore people in the hall. Things slipped into my locker. The usual. The lunchroom. Sitting alone again as always. The usual.
Or not. This girl comes over to my table and just sort of sits down. I watched her for a long moment over the top of my book. Of course it was the chick from the day before. Of course. That's not embarrassing in the least, some random stranger deciding to step in on your daily session of being bullied.
She was new in town. On edge, especially after the day before. All I got from her that first day is that her name was Tia, and her dad had gotten transferred to the Army base near town. I apologized for the day before, of course. (I always apologize) She just frowned at me for that.
She didn't necessarily want to make friends at first. Said her family moved too much, anyway. Somehow I managed to worm my way past that, though. She needed a friend. She was angry, bitter, and far too used to leaving people behind. And well, at that point, my pickings were slim. Besides the fact that she ended up having my back in later incidents as well. Honestly, I said it back then, and I'll say it now. I appreciate the sentiment of threatening someone for my sake, but it's not worth that.
She became one of the best people I've had in my life. More than I would dare to ask for. Tia could do much better than some broken little... mouse for a friend. I was rebuilding, though. I always rebuild.
We were friends for two and a half years before she moved. He father got transferred again. All the way across the country. She got distant again when she found out. After all, we had promised to be there for each other. We had promised no to let the other get hurt. That we would see each other happy. And we both so hate to break promises. We talked. We decided to finish out the year like nothing was going wrong. We would stay in touch. I was stubborn about that. I couldn't lose another friend after Jared killed himself.
People don't always leave. People don't always abandon you. I repeated these words to her more than once in those last few months.
And we did stay in touch. Life went on. Things changes, we lost people. We gained people. We were there for each other through our highs and lows. Whether over the phone or over the internet.
Hell, this is the person who, when all of this started just some months ago, picked up and drove to Alabama from California simply because she was worried about me. Because she wanted to protect me.
People look at us and see what they want to see. A tall, strong, independent-seeming, gorgeous woman and a small, fragile, shy, dependent-seeming, cute girl. There's so much more there. So much more than what's on the outer layer of things. So much more than what someone might see as possessiveness. So much more than the shaky attempts to drive us apart. You do not know the half of it, even with this post. And you probably never will.
Saturday, November 5, 2011
Back
And I'm not feeling overly creative about titles right now. Mostly, I'm just tired.
I got to come back to Hope yesterday, and yes I was 'delivered' by the proper time. I have no idea why. I don't really remember all of what happened... And I've no idea why I was even held either. I really... there's not much to say about it.
There's this bruising on my back and Tia can't figure out what caused it, and we've discovered about 4 broken ribs which have only been aggravated by the vomiting I've been doing. My wrists are messed up. Tia thinks they're going to scar.
I remember zip ties being involved. And flashes of things. A concrete room somewhere, searing heat, the stench of sweat, a flash of clean-cut brown hair and a pair of glasses, a smooth voice that said things I don't remember. The things I recall are all disjointed. "You care - so silly - broken - won't you eat - damn fool - miss your Sparrow - Fine." Pain is the most prevalent memory. That's pretty much all I have. I don't know where I was or what he looked like or anything useful of the sort.
Maybe I shut down? Maybe that's why I got 'boring' for the Shepherd? I can't really tell you, to be honest.
Thursday, November 3, 2011
Fine. Fine.
Fuck. You. Sheperd. Give him back. Givehimbackrightnow.
You son of a goddamn bitch. You give him back or I swear I will find you and break your little neck in half. First though, first I will make you regret ever coming near him. I will break so much of you and make you feel humiliated and angry and vengeful and incredibly goddamn stupid for messing with my man.
I'm not giving up here on my end, and I know he's not going to give into your little games either. I know him better than to think that he'd break just because you think you can break him.
Because you think you can break us. Fuck you Sheperd. He better be here at Hope before 4 PM or I swear, I will find you. Don't even think I'm joking.
Now I know he didn't just go. Now I know he's being held. And I will not tolerate your bullshit. I will not.
Also, we want Lissie's truck back. And if you tail him back to Hope, I will know. I will find you, and I will break you. I will break you harder than you could ever possibly imagine one girl could manage with only her hands.
That's the deal. 4 PM.
You son of a goddamn bitch. You give him back or I swear I will find you and break your little neck in half. First though, first I will make you regret ever coming near him. I will break so much of you and make you feel humiliated and angry and vengeful and incredibly goddamn stupid for messing with my man.
I'm not giving up here on my end, and I know he's not going to give into your little games either. I know him better than to think that he'd break just because you think you can break him.
Because you think you can break us. Fuck you Sheperd. He better be here at Hope before 4 PM or I swear, I will find you. Don't even think I'm joking.
Now I know he didn't just go. Now I know he's being held. And I will not tolerate your bullshit. I will not.
Also, we want Lissie's truck back. And if you tail him back to Hope, I will know. I will find you, and I will break you. I will break you harder than you could ever possibly imagine one girl could manage with only her hands.
That's the deal. 4 PM.
Wednesday, November 2, 2011
Patience is a Virtue
Elaine went out looking, as did a few others, apparently, and thank you all. But... there's still no sign of Blake. I'm not saying the panic's growing, but... it is.
I really wish I knew where he was... but I don't at the same time. I just hope he's okay. And I'm still... confident he hasn't up and left. Just it doesn't read like that. And he wouldn't just leave me. They don't all leave eventually, and I know that, as much as my head says otherwise.
There's this sinking feeling I'm getting and it makes me want to look, but I don't want him coming back and me not being here, so I'll wait patiently. And keep myself together in one pretty piece. It wouldn't do to fall apart would it?
And I'm at Hope. I'm holding onto what I have of my own hope.
I really wish I knew where he was... but I don't at the same time. I just hope he's okay. And I'm still... confident he hasn't up and left. Just it doesn't read like that. And he wouldn't just leave me. They don't all leave eventually, and I know that, as much as my head says otherwise.
There's this sinking feeling I'm getting and it makes me want to look, but I don't want him coming back and me not being here, so I'll wait patiently. And keep myself together in one pretty piece. It wouldn't do to fall apart would it?
And I'm at Hope. I'm holding onto what I have of my own hope.
Tuesday, November 1, 2011
Isolophobia
I... am not going to panic. I am not going to panic.
I am not going let my abandonment issues and fears of being alone cause any accelerated heart palpitations, trembles, dizziness, nausea, or anything else like that. Lissie's here. And I will be rational.
Blake... is not home right now. This would not... normally be an issue. We encourage each other to go out, take time to ourselves, hang out with people not each other. Long term relationships get tiresome and sometimes we need different people or just ourselves. That's fine. It's encouraged. It's well needed.
The problem? Blake left Hope 16.5 hours ago. No one else in the house has seen him since. Now, that's fine, considering he told me he'd be going out. He said he was going to go into town and get away from the laptop for a bit. Maybe hit a cafe or something. I was glad he was getting out. I was happy to hear he'd be breaking his routine. He said he'd pick me up some gardening essentials from the shop on his way back to Hope.
I know why he went out. In two weeks it's our 3 year anniversary. I know why he didn't want me to come with him. It's not that it wasn't obvious. It was. But he plays the excuse game well, and I play along.
But he said he'd be home in time for dinner.
He's not.
You know how often Blake misses dinner? As often as I miss my morning work out. It happens about once a month. He missed breakfast too. Bed's untouched. He's just not home.
I'm worried. I'm not going to lie, I'm scared sick. And I want him back. So I'm going to hang out with Lis, keep my panic and trust issues at bay, and I'll see him when he gets back. Because he'll be back. It's still early, and he'll be back. There's no other option. That's all there is to it.
I am not going let my abandonment issues and fears of being alone cause any accelerated heart palpitations, trembles, dizziness, nausea, or anything else like that. Lissie's here. And I will be rational.
Blake... is not home right now. This would not... normally be an issue. We encourage each other to go out, take time to ourselves, hang out with people not each other. Long term relationships get tiresome and sometimes we need different people or just ourselves. That's fine. It's encouraged. It's well needed.
The problem? Blake left Hope 16.5 hours ago. No one else in the house has seen him since. Now, that's fine, considering he told me he'd be going out. He said he was going to go into town and get away from the laptop for a bit. Maybe hit a cafe or something. I was glad he was getting out. I was happy to hear he'd be breaking his routine. He said he'd pick me up some gardening essentials from the shop on his way back to Hope.
I know why he went out. In two weeks it's our 3 year anniversary. I know why he didn't want me to come with him. It's not that it wasn't obvious. It was. But he plays the excuse game well, and I play along.
But he said he'd be home in time for dinner.
He's not.
You know how often Blake misses dinner? As often as I miss my morning work out. It happens about once a month. He missed breakfast too. Bed's untouched. He's just not home.
I'm worried. I'm not going to lie, I'm scared sick. And I want him back. So I'm going to hang out with Lis, keep my panic and trust issues at bay, and I'll see him when he gets back. Because he'll be back. It's still early, and he'll be back. There's no other option. That's all there is to it.
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