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| Hidden in plain view |
May 26, 2008 |
I decided to make the 'snap' entry public. What good is it to keep it to myself?
Ya, I clearly wasn't in the best of moods at that time. Im having a pretty hard time adjusting to being by myself. Shes far off in another land, and I'm here... alone... with lots of time to think. And thinking is dangerous.
So there you have it. Despite the fact that I fell heels over head in love with Madi, It still isn't just all roses. We do have our fair share of issues.
We all have issues though.
I still love her.
...a lot.
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| snap |
May 25, 2008 |
Im feel like im about ready to snap.
She's wild. Perhaps too wild for me. I feel as though Im in over my head. Im not experienced enough for this. Im not in the right mind set. I dont know how to react, how to handle, how to deal with these things.
I HATE that she drinks. But I don't know why. Im such a pussy. I need to get over it. It's not THAT big of a deal. Is it that I actually care about her? Or is it that Im trying to control her, like an overprotective, worried dumbass. I think its selfishness. I just can't handle it, so I don't want her to do it. I dont want her drunk... I dont want anything bad to happen. I dont want her taking off her shirt and making out with Lizzy while Eric gets a nice little picture for himself. I dont want her to smoke a cigerette, not realizing why shes doing it? I dont want her to not realize what shes even doing or saying. How shes acting. How unactractive she really is... I want her to be able to say NO. I want her to realize she doesnt need that. Im scared Madi. Im scared you're going to hurt me, by doing something you aren't even aware youre doing. So ya.. I conclude selfishness.
I HATE MY JEALOUSY. ITs getting terrible. Some guy hit on her in "Australia" and that put me in a bad mood. what the fuck. I need to trust her.
....But to be honest with ourselves... I think we have trust issues. I cheated on my girlfriend to be with her... Why should she trust me? And I obviously have issues on her drinking... soo.. idk what to do.
I dont like how fragile it seems we are. Like... So far, this whole trip.. shes just been so worried about us falling apart... and technically.. were not even together yet. It's so shakey. it shouldnt be that way. Im worried about it. Im scared that she isnt really happy with us. Annnnd that could hurt me quite a bit.
And... How many people has she had sex with? This comes up every now and then... and it bothers me. I bet shes had sex with evan.
6-8 people?? Thats a lot of people... =/
sigh.
Am i losing control? |
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| Interupted!! |
May 6, 2008 |
Wellll
I came on here to write... and I got three instant messages. Now it's almost time for me to go back to class.
soo, I guess i'll post something later :]
Oh, and bethlake: Madi and I are basically together now. She makes me pretty happy... and I feel like I have made the right choice. It hasn't entered a formal relationship yet though, because I think it would be a little messed up toward Isabella. But yeah, things with her and I are good. It's new and refreshing =) Thanks for asking.
But anyways, How is everyone else's lives treatin you? |
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| From the inside |
May 3, 2008 |
The following is an obsturct and purposeless rant...
Isabella...
You've changed. I can see that you are finally free. Released into your own life, unheld by the restrictions of a relationship.
I'm happy for you. It's strange to see how much things have changed between us within the past few weeks. I'm not sure I like it, but that is not for me to judge anymore. I'm living my life, and you're living yours.
But I'm sorry... You are not the same person I once knew. You are growing up; finding yourself. And to be perfectly frank, I don't want to be a part of it.
Perhaps it's time we go our own ways...
And to work...
Ted and Eric... you guys are douchebags. Stop being so cheap. Grow a soul and try acting your age. You disgust me. |
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| A poem |
May 2, 2008 |
I Go Back to May 1937 (from The Gold Cell)
Sharon Olds
I see them standing at the formal gates of their colleges,
I see my father strolling out
under the ochre sandstone arch, the
red tiles glinting like bent
plates of blood behind his head, I
see my mother with a few light books at her hip
standing at the pillar made of tiny bricks with the
wrought-iron gate still open behind her, its
sword-tips black in the May air,
they are about to graduate, they are about to get married,
they are kids, they are dumb, all they know is they are
innocent, they would never hurt anybody.
I want to go up to them and say Stop,
don't do it--she's the wrong woman,
he's the wrong man, you are going to do things
you cannot imagine you would ever do,
you are going to do bad things to children,
you are going to suffer in ways you never heard of,
you are going to want to die. I want to go
up to them there in the late May sunlight and say it,
her hungry pretty blank face turning to me,
her pitiful beautiful untouched body,
his arrogant handsome blind face turning to me,
his pitiful beautiful untouched body,
but I don't do it. I want to live. I
take them up like the male and female
paper dolls and bang them together
at the hips like chips of flint as if to
strike sparks from them, I say
Do what you are going to do, and I will tell about it. |
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