Monday, April 29, 2013

It's About Time for Some Good News!

After all this depressing business with Daniel and breaking up and being sad, I know I'm ready for good news. I'm sure y'all are too.

Get ready for this:

I got into Christopher Newport University!

Now, not to sound conceited, but that's not really surprising. When you've been accepted to Virginia Tech twice, and North Carolina State, you don't really stress over being accepted at a less competitive college. CNU isn't exactly easy to get into, but I didn't worry that I wouldn't get in.

The really good news:

My momma thinks we might ACTUALLY BE ABLE TO AFFORD IT.

That is perhaps the most important and exciting thing ever, because the reason I didn't go to Virginia Tech the first time was because of money. The same goes for the second time. And with NC State.

So yeah, I'm pretty stoked. :D

Saturday, April 27, 2013

Cutting Back (A Short Story)

“Oh my darling, oh my darling, oh my darling Clementine.”


“You are lost and gone forever...”


“Dreadful sorry, Clementine.”


As the song’s tune faded away from her mind, she gave a sideways glare to the door. “Dreadful sorry my ass.” Her lips curled into a sneer, and the scissors by her ear fluttered. Before she could cut herself, she grabbed another lock of hair.


“Well, you’ll be sorry soon enough.” A giggle escaped her lips. When she looked in the mirror, her cheeks appeared rosy and her eyes had a lovely gleam. She almost looked like her old self. Just a bit more excitable, she thought.

Blonde tresses surrounded her feet, creating a golden carpet that glowed in the sunlight streaming from the window. As she added to the pile, her mind wandered through memories alternately shady and bright. He loved her. He hated her. He held out a hand for her. He snatched his hand away from hers. Nothing matched and everything fit.

“You almost done up there, Clem? You know the wedding starts soon.” Her mother’s voice floated up the stairs, dragging her back to the present.

“Yeah, Momma.”


“I’ll meet you at the church. Don’t you ruin that dress, now.” She heard the faint sound of the front door closing, and she knew she was now alone in the house.

“Not completely alone, though.” That caused another bout of giggles, and she had to set down the scissors until the hysterics passed.

Once calm returned, she picked the rusty kitchen scissors back up and commenced her work. 


A few strands clung to the lavender satin of her bridesmaid dress. Such a beautiful shade, so lovely on her carefully tanned skin. What a shame that he would never see her in it. Her gaze returned to the door, and her eyes slitted.

“You don’t deserve to see me in it.”

The distraction cost her. She hissed as the tip of one blade sliced her neck, and blood dotted the dress. After applying a tissue to the small cut, she sighed. Of course she stained the dress, after her mother had just told her not to. Hopefully no one would notice the tiny spots. Not when all eyes would be on her perfect sister and the perfect wedding dress and the perfect groom.

A light knocking came on the door, and faint scratching. She frowned and gestured at the door with the scissors. “Stop that! I told you that you have to stay there.”

The scratching grew louder and more desperate. In an effort to drown it out, she started humming to herself. It worked, for the most part. Her eyes drifted down to the blood dotting her dress, and she frowned again. They had grown.

“Well, that isn’t good. Momma will have my head over this.” She shook her head and returned her gaze to the mirror.


Her work was almost done. What was left of her hair stood in disarray atop her head, a messy testament to the heartbreak within. He had left her. No one left her. There was no way she could show up at the wedding without him. Everyone would whisper about her, everyone would pity her, everyone would judge her. The comparisons with her sister would never stop. They had to stop. He had been her perfect match, she knew he was The One, and he had dared to break up with her and leave her to the wolves better known as the town of Knoxwood.


And just like that, the long blonde hair her parents had never let her cut was gone. It sat at her feet, heaped around her chair, limp and lifeless. She brushed the lingering strands off her dress, and her fingers froze over the blood stains that had grown yet again. They now covered almost the entire bottom half of her dress. People would notice that, there was no way they could miss it now.

“Look what you made me do!” She whirled toward the door, slamming her fist against the wood. It splintered, and the scratching stopped for a moment. Then it resumed, more feverish than before, and she kicked at the door. “Stop it! Stop it!”

Her voice crescendoed, and once again the scratching ceased. Panting, she turned away. Hands clenching and unclenching on the satin of her dress, she paced from one end of the room to the other. Thoughts bounced through her mind, and she muttered under her breath. When the scratching started again, she made her decision.

“You’re gonna be so sorry.” For emphasis, she grabbed the doorknob and shook the door in its frame.

She ran down the stairs, holding up the dress so that she did not trip over it. Her bare feet slapped on the hardwood floor, and she wrenched the back door open. When she reached the shed, she strained to pick up the container of gasoline. The return to the main house took a bit longer than the flight from it, hampered as she was by the bright red jug. Gasoline splashed up the black spout, spilling onto the grass and further staining her dress.

Inside, she took a moment to search through the drawers for a set of matches. Then she headed back up the stairs, and she did not care when the gasoline poured onto her path. At the second floor, she took time to soak the hall before going into her room. There, she turned to the door that bore the signs of her abuse and still had the sound of scratching behind it.

“Are you dreadful sorry yet?”

Her grin widened as she turned the gas can upside down. The pungent odour stung her eyes, but it was worth it when she heard the scratching grow more desperate. Gasoline oozed under the door. When the container grew light enough, she spun in circles and splashed the gasoline over the walls. Those golden locks she had taken so much time to remove darkened as they were drenched. By now, her flesh and dress reeked of gasoline.

She threw the gas can aside when it emptied. As she pulled out the matches, she started singing again.

“Oh my darling, oh my darling, oh my darling Clementine, you are lost and gone forever. Dreadful sorry, Clementine.”

She struck the match and threw it to the ground in one smooth motion.

Her lips stretched into a smile as she burned.

Friday, April 26, 2013

I Wish I Were a Vulcan

Today, I unfriended Daniel on Facebook.

Not because I don't want to be friends with him or anything, because I do, I still do, but because I really just need to take a step back and not talk to him for a while.

I doubt he'll even notice, unless he reads this post (which I'm not even sure he still reads my blog at all, so...). I doubt he'll care, even if he does notice.

This is just something I needed to do, because seeing that green dot on Facebook made it far too easy for me to talk to him. Sure, having him in my phone makes it easy too, but I'm pretty good about ignoring the urge to text him by convincing myself that I don't have the minutes.

My momma says that this is a good thing, a step forward. She also says that Daniel was being mean to me, and knew it. I'm still not sure that's the case, because I think he's pretty oblivious to how things he says hurts people, but it's not like I hid how upset and hurt I was. So I don't know.

I just don't know.

Hopefully I'll be over him soon. It's not like he's going to text me or message me, and that should help, as I don't plan on texting or messaging him. Until I'm sure I'm ready, I won't be going over to Patrick's on Tuesdays either, because seeing him wouldn't be a good idea either.

I will be okay. I will be.

Wednesday, April 24, 2013

Ignoring Me = Not Cool

Everyone hates being ignored, right? I know I'm not the only one, because some of the people on my Twitter feed are teenage girls and they're much better at passive-aggressive tweeting than I ever could be, and a main theme is hating being ignored. Also tanning.


To bring y'all up to speed, Daniel and I started talking again late last week. It turns out that there had been some miscommunication; I was NOT in a grey area. He has placed me into the friendzone (although he tried to deny calling it that, but what else would it be if not the friendzone), but (for some reason unfathomable to me) he still likes me. In fact, he got pretty peeved when I told him he didn't. Which is understandable.

So yeah, we talked, and things were back to normal(ish). I texted him about random stuff, we would chat for a bit, and then go our merry ways. It was pretty comfortable and normal and I felt all right. It's not like I deluded myself into thinking he'd want me back - because he won't - but I at least felt like he wanted to be friends again. And that it was feasible, even though I still had (and have) feelings for him.

Now, though, he's ignoring me. We spoke a bit yesterday about a video game that had a really awesome pick-up line in it (I had seen it on Facebook, sent it to him, and he told me about the game), and halfway through the conversation he just stopped answering.

It bothered me, but didn't ruin my whole evening like it would've last week. So, that's a plus. I still went to volleyball and had a great time. Although a huge guy tackled me and almost threw out my jaw and shoulder on accident. That was kind of fun though, not going to lie.

When I got home, I sent Daniel a message, asking why he just stopped in the middle of our conversation. But, as he'd not seen the messages I had sent him the day before, I figured he wouldn't see these, making it pointless, and I said as much. As predicted, he didn't answer.

This time I know he saw them, though. That little creeper thing in the chats tells you when someone sees the message, and it's kind of bad because it turns you into this paranoid schizo who's flipping out because WHY IS HE IGNORING ME and WHAT IF HE'S DEAD and all sorts of weird thoughts.

Basically, if someone's going to ignore me, they should probably tell me that they're doing so, because then I can just be like, "Oh, okay, well, that's fine by me" because it would be if I knew that's what they were doing. It's the not being sure that I hate.

And of course, I can't message him either on Facebook or text asking him to tell me, because if he's not I'll just look crazy, and if he is he'll just get mad. Might get mad either way. *shrug* I just don't know.

Well, it's time for work. Hopefully it'll be super busy like it was Monday because then I'll just not stress over this (HA yeah right). I'm also going to be working on a story for this competition thingy, so, that might help. At least a little bit.


While I was at work, I kept thinking, "Hm, I wonder if he'll see this post and get mad about me talking about him so much on my blog, and if he'll text me being all, "I'm not ignoring you, this is why we would never work out" and I'd just start sobbing because guys, I'm like forever insecure about him being with his friend Olivia.

I can't remember if I mentioned that in the last post, but I'll mention it here because I'm just in a bad place what with certain female problems and lack of chocolate and I want to go for a run but it's DAYLIGHT and I haven't run in forever and it'll make my uterus hurt and I'll be huffing and puffing and I just might die.

So yeah.

When he first told me about Olivia (and he's going to be LIVING with her soon, her and another mutual friend of theirs who is also female), it wasn't anything. I didn't care. After all, I have plenty of male friends that I see all the time and hang out with, and they didn't make HIM uncomfortable. Plus, when I'm in a relationship, I tend to be pretty secure.

Now, though... he talks about her all the time, and from what I can tell from what he's told me, they talk all the time and he doesn't ignore HER and it's just like I know they're friends and all but he's the one who says he doesn't like talking to people all that much but he seems to talk to her way more often than he ever did me.

Of course, I don't know any of that for sure, so I could just be paranoid.

But what if I'm NOT? What if he DOES like her? I get no say in the matter, because, you know, I'm not his girlfriend any longer but guys I JUST CAN'T DEAL WITH THAT.

Sigh. I feel ridiculous, being as worried as I am about this. Which is why I haven't said anything to him about it yet. If I thought it were anything more than paranoia and insecurity on my end, I probably would. Hell, I'm perilously close to doing it anyway. And who knows, he might see this and message me like "Wtf is wrong with you, why do you think I like Olivia?" Again, commence the sobbing.

I really just need to write. Too bad I have to go mow the grass instead.

Wednesday, April 17, 2013

I'm Pretty Bipolar Right Now

This breakup just isn't going well for me.

Some of you may have expected more posts, but I really didn't want to subject y'all to the changeable nature of my emotions right now. My mood and outlook change hourly, if not minutely. Sometimes, I'm okay. In fact, I'd say that most of the time, I'm okay. That's thanks to being a busy person, and not having TIME to think about anything.

But any time I'm alone or not actively working on something or what I'm working on doesn't take real thought, I'm not okay.

At all.

And while y'all haven't had to deal with that, Daniel has. Because as we've discussed before, I really have very little self-control. He's seen me go from okay (last Friday) to sad (Monday) to angry and sad (Tuesday) to sad and resigned (today). I'm lucky he's so laid back, because a normal guy would probably tell me to shut up and leave him alone.

To summarize: I thought I was okay last week. I was doing great, and I was happy 99% of the time, and I could talk to him without feeling upset. He sent me a picture of a puppy, and I told him about finding the rings I thought I had lost. I sent him a pick-up line that had amused me. Things were normal.

Then, on Monday, I found out he wasn't going to be at Patrick's on Tuesday. I had been really looking forward to seeing him and proving to myself that I was okay. Of course, I learned that I wasn't okay. The fact that he wasn't going to be there made me so upset that it really is ridiculous.

Because I'd had some questions for him, and by the end of the day after dwelling on how he wouldn't be there, I had even more. So I typed them up and sent them to him. I knew he'd probably just get mad.

Tuesday, we talked somewhat normally, because I started a conversation with him. And as I'm rather stupid and curious, I mentioned that he probably hadn't read what I sent him yet. He had. I was right. He was angry. Angry that I'd basically send him an email with the questions instead of asking him in person.

Now, I can see why he'd be upset by that, but I mentioned in the document that I'd wanted to ask them in person. And who knew when the next chance to see him would be.

All in all, we got things boiled down to this: I'm pretty much in the beginning stages of being in love with him. And he likes me, but he doesn't like me. I'm in this grey area where I could fall either way for him. There is nothing I can do to get him to make up his mind, even though I'm in agony waiting.

If he's here next Tuesday, I probably won't be. I'll be playing volleyball, because I can't stand this. If I can, I'm going to try to not see him or talk to him until he figures out what I am to him and how he feels about me.

I really am grateful that he's been so understanding and nice about all this. Because I know I haven't been the picture of sane. But I think that's okay, because I'm pretty much a huge mess.

I want to tell him about the interesting or cool things that happen to me.

I want to hear about the interesting or cool things that happen to him.

I just want him, really. Even if he's boring that day.

Thursday, April 11, 2013

Two More Poems

Really, the only reason I'm posting these is so that I can show them to my teacher tomorrow. She wants us to be putting our work "out there" and that includes on personal blogs. So. Yeah. Here are two more really depressing poems about how I'm all alone now and not dealing with it well. Actually, I wasn't. I'm doing better, as long as I'm not at work with nothing to do but think about it, or laying in bed trying to sleep.


...............Begging with fiery kisses
...............For some sort of Redemption

Hands grasping at flesh,
......Violent as lips collide,
Holding on with strength
......That belies fragility.

This is the end.

This is -

Pulling away for the final time.

NO -
Pulling away
Just to reunite with yet another
.............................................Burning kiss.
......................It sears the skin.
......................Caresses that leave
.............................................A third-degree burn.

Wanting to hurt - 
Wanting to love - 

Wanting -

This is the end.

Siren's Song


By nausea. By disbelief.

By pain so ethereal

.....................It almost does not feel
..............Like pain.

It is tightness.
It is gasping.
It is dull.
It is sharp.

.............................It consumes

A slow destruction
That eats away at calm

.............................................Leaving behind desperation

I do not




Wednesday, April 10, 2013

In Case You're Really Dense

My last post, Single, is because, well, I'm single now.

Daniel and I broke up. In all honesty, he broke up with me.

I am very sad.
I feel hollow inside.

I wish I didn't. I wish I were stronger. Capable of just shrugging this off and saying, "Oh well, your loss." But it's not just his loss. It's mine. Daniel is a great guy. He cares about others, and wants to help others. However, he knows that he can't give me what I want.

What I wanted was for him to, you know, make me feel special. Talk to me. Want to see me more often. But that's not who he is. Daniel doesn't want or need to see/talk to people more often than once a week or on occasion. Me... I'm okay with not seeing him that often, but I needed him to talk to me, even just to say hi or ask about my day. Nothing complicated.

He just isn't that person, and he can't make himself be that person. It's a good thing we broke up, before I got even more involved with him, before I came close to saying the "L" word. Because I think I would have, eventually. In another three months, possibly.

For right now, though, I can't really see the logic behind this. All I can see is that he's gone, that he doesn't think I'm worth trying for; and that's not fair to him. It's not that. It has nothing to do with me. It has to do with him, and what he wants and is capable of giving. Now I just have to convince myself of that.

Because it's not that he doesn't like me. He did. He still does. He wants to be with me, but he knows he can't. He isn't ready to be my boyfriend, and he wishes he had known that before, to save all this heartache. Although I wouldn't call it heartache. Heart absence, really.

Daniel, if you read this... don't worry about me being sad or hollow or anything. I really do understand why you had to break up with me. You did the right thing, the noble thing.

That's what makes this so hard, though. That I couldn't hold onto a decent guy. That I couldn't convince him to change his mind.

I don't know when I'll be able to see him again. I don't know if I ever will. That's why, last night, I told Daniel goodbye. Because I can't see him for a while. If I do, I'll probably cry again, or end up kissing him again, and that is not conducive to moving on.

I lost a good one, guys.

I lost.

Tuesday, April 9, 2013


Nothing -
..........Unwanted, unloved, unworthy
.......Left to shrivel
.......On the street.
........................................................Kisses desperate
........................................................Trying to salvage what is left
..............................................When there is
Nothing -
..........Dust on the floor
.......Left to be swept up
.......By who only knows.
.......................................................Who cares?
...................................................................No one could sweep
..............................................................And no one would

Nothing -
...........No soul, no worth, no love

Nothing -