If I let you alone for half a day, won't you come sighing and wheedling back to me again? I dare say she would rather I had seemed all tenderness before you -- it wounds her vanity to have the truth exposed. But I don't care who knows that the passion was wholly on one side, and I never told her a lie about it. She cannot accuse me of showing a bit of deceitful softness.
I don't like Wuthering Heights, but some parts strike me. Like that one up there.
And this one.
I have not broken your heart -- you have broken it; and in breaking it, you have broken mine.
Yesterday I stayed home from school to play "catch up." I read 170 pages of Wuthering Heights (because I was 170 pages behind), worked on my art project, and did my psychology homework. All in all, it was a mentally strenuous day. I also have been working on scholarships like crazy. I need the monies.
Today I feel very tired and very irritated. I hope that you have stopped expecting a conversation. You're never getting one again. I heard what you said, when I wasn't around to defend my name, and it's over. So fucking over. I can see what I really am to you. I'm sorry I ever overextended my hand to reach you, to solve your problems, and to be your friend. Don't look at me from across the room and expect that I should be leaving my seat to greet you. It's not fucking happening.
I started talking to my parents Sunday afternoon about what has been bothering me lately, and I started crying. I don't really cry in front of my parents. I don't talk about my friends. Or how I feel about people that have lingered in my conscious, like Miah. Likewise, I am not home much anymore to talk to them period. But as I was crying, my dad gave me a huge hug, and started crying himself. He said, "Sweetheart, I know it hurts to care so much." I felt more loved then than I have in a long, long time. And I felt like he was more right than anyone else who has even attempted to understand how I feel. He is right. It does hurt to care. And so, I stop.
I am re-evaluating what I deem "meaningful" in my life. I am going to make a few changes. First of all, I'm going to stop being nice and lending out my heart all over the motherfucking place. I am not going to forgive and forget when my friends break my heart, and then drown in apologies whenever I make the tiniest mistake. I am a GOOD fucking person, a good fucking friend, and more and more and more than I should be to people who don't and won't give me a time of day. And I have let this slide because I was convinced that it would change over time, as I was promised it would. But it hasn't changed. Everything and everyone is the same, and I am always disappointed. I am meaningful to your face, and in no time, I am not a single thought. I have said this one million times, and it is one billion times truer each time I say it.
In a few short months, I basically will be moving out of this town. Athens is three hours away, and as a freshman, I won't have a car on-campus. That means I won't be able to come home often. By often, I mean I will try to make it home for Thanksgiving, Christmas, and Easter. That's. It. I won't be physically present, and because of this shallow fact, I am realizing that most of my "friends" will no longer be my friend in less than a year's time. Because, if our friendship is a whole lot of silence and misunderstanding when I'm in the same fucking town, it will dissipate to nothingness when I am away, and then I will truly know what it was worth, and what all these years have meant. I am seeing the beginning of it now.
Right now, I feel as if I have two friends. Two true friends, minus my sister, who is my best friend. Now you tell me... are you one of those people? I'm giving up... now. Now it's your turn to try.
I really really really need a hair cut right now. My hair grows ridiculously fast, and it frustrates the hell out of me. Gah.
I miss being able to watch The Simpsons everyday.
Can you get sore muscles from being too lazy?
I believe I am experiencing something like that. So, I am making a vow: starting this summer, I am going to walk as much as I can, maybe even every other morning if I have the will power. I refuse to be a sloth any longer... well, by any longer, I mean, I refuse to be a sloth until summer comes. Until then, though, SLOTH IT UP.
My dad got a new job! And it pays really well! BE HAPPY.
Speaking of work, tomorrow marks my one-year anniversary of Baker's Pizza employment.
Bed. Bed. Bed. IloveMassiveAttackandeveryoneneedstolistentothem. The end.
I don't like Wuthering Heights, but some parts strike me. Like that one up there.
And this one.
I have not broken your heart -- you have broken it; and in breaking it, you have broken mine.
Yesterday I stayed home from school to play "catch up." I read 170 pages of Wuthering Heights (because I was 170 pages behind), worked on my art project, and did my psychology homework. All in all, it was a mentally strenuous day. I also have been working on scholarships like crazy. I need the monies.
Today I feel very tired and very irritated. I hope that you have stopped expecting a conversation. You're never getting one again. I heard what you said, when I wasn't around to defend my name, and it's over. So fucking over. I can see what I really am to you. I'm sorry I ever overextended my hand to reach you, to solve your problems, and to be your friend. Don't look at me from across the room and expect that I should be leaving my seat to greet you. It's not fucking happening.
I started talking to my parents Sunday afternoon about what has been bothering me lately, and I started crying. I don't really cry in front of my parents. I don't talk about my friends. Or how I feel about people that have lingered in my conscious, like Miah. Likewise, I am not home much anymore to talk to them period. But as I was crying, my dad gave me a huge hug, and started crying himself. He said, "Sweetheart, I know it hurts to care so much." I felt more loved then than I have in a long, long time. And I felt like he was more right than anyone else who has even attempted to understand how I feel. He is right. It does hurt to care. And so, I stop.
I am re-evaluating what I deem "meaningful" in my life. I am going to make a few changes. First of all, I'm going to stop being nice and lending out my heart all over the motherfucking place. I am not going to forgive and forget when my friends break my heart, and then drown in apologies whenever I make the tiniest mistake. I am a GOOD fucking person, a good fucking friend, and more and more and more than I should be to people who don't and won't give me a time of day. And I have let this slide because I was convinced that it would change over time, as I was promised it would. But it hasn't changed. Everything and everyone is the same, and I am always disappointed. I am meaningful to your face, and in no time, I am not a single thought. I have said this one million times, and it is one billion times truer each time I say it.
In a few short months, I basically will be moving out of this town. Athens is three hours away, and as a freshman, I won't have a car on-campus. That means I won't be able to come home often. By often, I mean I will try to make it home for Thanksgiving, Christmas, and Easter. That's. It. I won't be physically present, and because of this shallow fact, I am realizing that most of my "friends" will no longer be my friend in less than a year's time. Because, if our friendship is a whole lot of silence and misunderstanding when I'm in the same fucking town, it will dissipate to nothingness when I am away, and then I will truly know what it was worth, and what all these years have meant. I am seeing the beginning of it now.
Right now, I feel as if I have two friends. Two true friends, minus my sister, who is my best friend. Now you tell me... are you one of those people? I'm giving up... now. Now it's your turn to try.
I really really really need a hair cut right now. My hair grows ridiculously fast, and it frustrates the hell out of me. Gah.
I miss being able to watch The Simpsons everyday.
Can you get sore muscles from being too lazy?
I believe I am experiencing something like that. So, I am making a vow: starting this summer, I am going to walk as much as I can, maybe even every other morning if I have the will power. I refuse to be a sloth any longer... well, by any longer, I mean, I refuse to be a sloth until summer comes. Until then, though, SLOTH IT UP.
My dad got a new job! And it pays really well! BE HAPPY.
Speaking of work, tomorrow marks my one-year anniversary of Baker's Pizza employment.
Bed. Bed. Bed. IloveMassiveAttackandeveryoneneedstolistentothem. The end.
VIEW 15 of 15 COMMENTS
The first year at uni is weird. Strangely people that were your best friends drift away, yet you become closer to people that were only ever in the background before. Good luck.