Thursday was one of the best nights. I went downtown with Sara and Shay and Sara's love interest Ed. My town was hosting it's annual Candlelight Christmas... basically there are candles lining the sidewalks and all of the shops are open late and there are refreshments and specials in all of the stores and Christmas music plays in the streets, etc. We walked up and down the chilly streets for a long time. Had an entertaining dinner in Subway. Went to the movie rental place and loitered. Went to the coffee shop and stayed there for over two hours laughing and discussing politics. It was the best time I've had in several months. Then Friday I spent time with my friends Kayleigh and Jezz, and then later in the night just Jezz, then Jezz and her boyfriend, and then I went home to somemorefuckingheartbreakthanksverymuch.
"Evelyn, I know you lied. But I'll tell you that I'm alive for the first time, and I'm begging you to leave here now. I'm begging you to stay away from me." - Bayside
Do not accuse me. Do not accuse the one person who has consistently defended your persona, despite hurt feelings. Do not hold me accountable for the people that do not like you or do not smile when you enter the room. Do not shower me with guilt and hate and shit that makes me want to crumble in a fucking ball and die. Understand that I have spoken of you to others, and I have told them the truth about how you have hurt me. It is nothing I have not already told you. It is nothing I would not willingly tell you again, to your face. That is the extent of my so-called "negative" ramble. But also understand that I have never and will never spread a rumor. I know the truth about you. I would not fabricate otherwise. You might not like me, but one time you did. One time you knew me. You should know that I am not someone to spread deceitful lies and rumors and bullshit. I wouldn't do it to a friend, and I wouldn't do it to an enemy. I consider you neither. I consider you someone who has in all honesty, broken my heart. I cry when I think about the summer and you calling every night and us going to see Shannon in the hospital and you always being there and us going to the park and discussing my family crisis and you visiting at work and me going to your house and the movie Closer and my birthday party. I miss it. I miss you. I can say it. I am saying it. I have said it, whether you believe it or not. I am giving up. Starting now. I have given up completely. I called you because I wanted to have a motherfucking voice, and you won't let me. You drop an accusation, and you leave it at that, and you won't listen to or consider anything else. I can scream to the top of my lungs and I did and I finally gave up, slammed the phone down, and bawled while standing in the middle of my kitchen, my dad coming after several minutes in to restrain me. I am so, so, so exhausted of grief...
"You say these days are made of rust. Counted out, counted out in loss. I've got plans to prove them wrong." - INXS
Yesterday I went out of town to volunteer for National Honor Society at a Special Wish Foundation holiday party. All of the sick children were there making crafts and enjoying snacks and opening presents and visiting with Santa. My heart swells up when I think about how most of these children will not have many more Christmases left. I saw children with weak, frail bodies. Children with blood-red rimmed eyes. Children with incisions in the backs of their heads. I cannot talk about it without crying. I cannot write about this right now without crying. And the parents. The parents were helping their children with the crafts. Completely composed and happy as can be with beaming smiles and laughs. Like their life is perfect and they could not be happier. That is a strength that I will never know, and that is a pain I hope I never have to know. These parents are not going to have little boys or girls in a few years, and they know it, and they are completely content with life regardless. That, to me, is beauty. That is what God must be. A light where it seems like light cannot exist.
"Living life like a comatose. Ego loaded and swallow, swallow, swallow." - Manic Street Preachers
Last night, Miah and I finally spoke. It was not a pleasant exchange of words. He called me as I was driving home from the high school basketball game. I can see that we have very different views on human nature and emotions and life in general. I don't really know if we got anything resolved, but he did apologize. He apologized for everything and told me that it was entirely his fault. He told me that it is not easy to say that you're sorry and really, truly mean it. I think that he's right. I told him that I forgave him. And I suppose that I do. I do.
"And I'll never get into your heart. No, I don't even want to start. I'll never get into your heart. I'm just happy to hang around." - Travis
Today I tried on bridesmaid dresses for Tegan's wedding. She is getting married in July to her boyfriend Matt. They have been together for over a year. Tegan just turned 18 last month. Tegan is going to the same college (Ohio University in Athens) as me. She will be one of the few, if only, freshmen on campus with a spouse. I guess they will be living together at that point, and he is applying to be a police officer in Athens, so it works out. But it's so strange for me to say that one of my best friends since the 8th grade will be getting married this summer. Wow. It is so surreal. It makes me happy, though. I am not worried about them, and strangely enough, I don't think it's a mistake.
Some people just fit.
I want to fit with someone. Somewhere. Someday.
"Evelyn, I know you lied. But I'll tell you that I'm alive for the first time, and I'm begging you to leave here now. I'm begging you to stay away from me." - Bayside
Do not accuse me. Do not accuse the one person who has consistently defended your persona, despite hurt feelings. Do not hold me accountable for the people that do not like you or do not smile when you enter the room. Do not shower me with guilt and hate and shit that makes me want to crumble in a fucking ball and die. Understand that I have spoken of you to others, and I have told them the truth about how you have hurt me. It is nothing I have not already told you. It is nothing I would not willingly tell you again, to your face. That is the extent of my so-called "negative" ramble. But also understand that I have never and will never spread a rumor. I know the truth about you. I would not fabricate otherwise. You might not like me, but one time you did. One time you knew me. You should know that I am not someone to spread deceitful lies and rumors and bullshit. I wouldn't do it to a friend, and I wouldn't do it to an enemy. I consider you neither. I consider you someone who has in all honesty, broken my heart. I cry when I think about the summer and you calling every night and us going to see Shannon in the hospital and you always being there and us going to the park and discussing my family crisis and you visiting at work and me going to your house and the movie Closer and my birthday party. I miss it. I miss you. I can say it. I am saying it. I have said it, whether you believe it or not. I am giving up. Starting now. I have given up completely. I called you because I wanted to have a motherfucking voice, and you won't let me. You drop an accusation, and you leave it at that, and you won't listen to or consider anything else. I can scream to the top of my lungs and I did and I finally gave up, slammed the phone down, and bawled while standing in the middle of my kitchen, my dad coming after several minutes in to restrain me. I am so, so, so exhausted of grief...
"You say these days are made of rust. Counted out, counted out in loss. I've got plans to prove them wrong." - INXS
Yesterday I went out of town to volunteer for National Honor Society at a Special Wish Foundation holiday party. All of the sick children were there making crafts and enjoying snacks and opening presents and visiting with Santa. My heart swells up when I think about how most of these children will not have many more Christmases left. I saw children with weak, frail bodies. Children with blood-red rimmed eyes. Children with incisions in the backs of their heads. I cannot talk about it without crying. I cannot write about this right now without crying. And the parents. The parents were helping their children with the crafts. Completely composed and happy as can be with beaming smiles and laughs. Like their life is perfect and they could not be happier. That is a strength that I will never know, and that is a pain I hope I never have to know. These parents are not going to have little boys or girls in a few years, and they know it, and they are completely content with life regardless. That, to me, is beauty. That is what God must be. A light where it seems like light cannot exist.
"Living life like a comatose. Ego loaded and swallow, swallow, swallow." - Manic Street Preachers
Last night, Miah and I finally spoke. It was not a pleasant exchange of words. He called me as I was driving home from the high school basketball game. I can see that we have very different views on human nature and emotions and life in general. I don't really know if we got anything resolved, but he did apologize. He apologized for everything and told me that it was entirely his fault. He told me that it is not easy to say that you're sorry and really, truly mean it. I think that he's right. I told him that I forgave him. And I suppose that I do. I do.
"And I'll never get into your heart. No, I don't even want to start. I'll never get into your heart. I'm just happy to hang around." - Travis
Today I tried on bridesmaid dresses for Tegan's wedding. She is getting married in July to her boyfriend Matt. They have been together for over a year. Tegan just turned 18 last month. Tegan is going to the same college (Ohio University in Athens) as me. She will be one of the few, if only, freshmen on campus with a spouse. I guess they will be living together at that point, and he is applying to be a police officer in Athens, so it works out. But it's so strange for me to say that one of my best friends since the 8th grade will be getting married this summer. Wow. It is so surreal. It makes me happy, though. I am not worried about them, and strangely enough, I don't think it's a mistake.
Some people just fit.
I want to fit with someone. Somewhere. Someday.
VIEW 21 of 21 COMMENTS
James Gregory reports:
Having traded their Jesus and Mary Chain posters for bootlegs of The Band, Black Rebel Motorcycle Club are ready to take the down-home fuzz of their well-received third album, Howl, on the road. Yup, the trio will be bringing their Americana to America, on a two-month trek in February 2006, spreading the gospel according to retro from sea to shining sea (and one stop in Canada).
Next week, the BRMC will don their Santa hats and bring some yuletide cheer to L.A. with a pair of acoustic gigs at the Hotel Caf. We recommend shouting out requests for covers of such unplugged classics of two-wheeled glory as "1952 Vincent Black Lightning", "Speeding Motorcycle", and "Black Boys on Mopeds".
Me so jealous!