No Denial

I have to admit, yea, it does hurt. But this is why

1) I kept open a very limited window of communication, and

2) I stayed my distance.

It's not that what you did was bad, not even in the slightest. It's that things like this are inevitable with you. You don't stay single and you still don't want me and these are two things I've come to accept. I'm talking about it because, at one point in my life, I ignored the obvious and got hurt. I'm glad we can both live our lives, but I don't think that was ever an issue with you haha.

Hey, you keep doing what you're doing. I'm just glad this time you aren't cuddling with my ex on the couch in front of me. Now that, sir, was very tasteless

Grinds My Gears

So, driving the other day, I noticed something that pisses me off every time someone does it, so I decided I'd start my own little rant posts in the vein of Peter Griffin's "What Grinds My Gears".

So:

You know what really grinds my gears? People who turn without using turn signals. They're on cars for a reason. If we didn't need them, we wouldn't have them. So, why in the hell, when you are about to turn a corner, would you either a) not use your turn signal or b) wait til right before you turn to use it? I really hope you understand that this becomes a nuisance to the person driving behind you. We would all like adequate warning before you turn so we can SLOW OUR ASS DOWN without fear of plowing into your dumb ass.

And that, readers, is what grinds my gears.

Imprison

I have a feeling that, one day, this blog will literally be the death of me. More to come

Don't Try So Hard...

They both sat in his car on this late-autumn night. There was a harsh rain pouring down above them. The car was off, no music or anything, as the cold set in around them. Normally, on a night like this, they’d be embracing each other in the back, not separated by the gear shift, the radio, glove compartment or anything. But there they sat in the front, both staring out into the torrential rain, a dim orange streetlight hovering above them.

She had her hands stuck in her coat pockets. She was finally starting to dry off, an uncomfortable process in such weather. Her eyes were blank, her lips unmoving as she looked through the windshield. Her breathing was barely audible, and she could barely tell if she was breathing in the first place. For her, maybe for the both of them, though she wasn’t sure, time, location, everything outside that car was irrelevant. They both transcended any notion of reality they had known before, anything besides heartache, pain, anger, anguish, and being ultimately defeated by forces outside the self. Drops of rain clung to her hair, just like she clung to…

His hands gripped the steering wheel. He would periodically move them around, 12 o’ clock and 3 o’ clock, 10 o’ clock and 2 o’ clock, 11 and 1, 9 and 3. He thought of the numbers paired together to find something he could make sense of, but it all failed him. Nothing made sense anymore. Nothing meant anything, nothing mattered, nothing was relevant. It was all pointless and he had no inkling as to why.

She turned her head to take his image in, and she could only fight back tears. It wasn’t dramatic like last night, when her lips quivered and her tears ran like streams after the rain. It was a silent, numbing, internal weeping, one that she hoped he would notice.

And he did, for he felt the tears himself. He could feel the anguish in her cries from the night before. They still rang clearly in his head. He turned to meet her gaze, locked in her eyes. He wanted to reach for anything left inside he had to give to her, anything she’d take anyway, though deep down, he knew that he had left a scar indelible, one that he would never be able to fix.

They didn’t say a word as they sat, transfixed on each other. He slowly moved his hands to his lap, she slowly moved her hands to either side of her. The memories of last night, of all they had gone through, were still too strong for them to bear, to understand, or to cope with.

“What’s wrong?” he asked her.

“Nothing.” She curtly and apathetically replied.

“Something’s wrong. What is it?”

“Nothing.” She turned to him with a look of growing anger.

“Look, I just asked what’s wrong. You’ve been acting like this all night. You’re being a killjoy; it’s like you don’t want anyone to have any fun.” She stared at him as he went on, her mouth slowly gaping open. “I don’t know what’s been up with you. For the past few weeks, the only thing you’ve wanted to talk about is your feelings, your emotions. Why do you keep on?”

Tears started to form in her eyes, distorting her vision, making his image more and more unclear, just as how she had been seeing him for those past few weeks, unable to make out clearly his emotions, his actions, or any part of him. She just nodded.

“And now you don’t want to say anything? What the hell?! I just don’t know what’s wrong with you. This is getting to be too much. I don’t need this.”

And then he said the one line that broke her heart, “I don’t deserve this.”

She could hear the fragile pieces of her heart crash to the core of her being. They shattered with a clarity she hadn’t felt in a long time. Each tiny, crisp, tinkle of glass against her inner foundation resounded with an infinite intensity. The tears started to roll.

“You don’t deserve this?!” She yelled back at him. “You don’t deserve all the things I’M putting you through?!” He slowly began to realize he made a mistake. “I had to sit by every time you left her! I was the one who was here to hear you bitch and moan about how she treated you, about how you didn’t want to be with her! What about how you treated her?! Did you ever stop to think that you might be causing her pain?”

He started to hurt inside and he didn’t know why, or he tricked himself into thinking he didn’t. His heart felt everything, though; he knew exactly why, inside, he was beginning to feel pain. And he also knew he deserved it. He reached for her, to try to console her or calm her down, but she swiftly knocked his hand away, and, consequently, knocked his reality off balance.

“NO! Don’t touch me!” Her words had such a ferocity, a scorned strength, that he had to step back. She stepped back for a moment and looked down, her tears dropping to the floor, when she noticed a singular drop fall from his eyes. She looked back up to see his eyes brimming with tears. “What about how you treated me? You constantly pushed me away when I tried to be there for you and you wouldn’t let me. Every time I tried to be happy for you or even make you happy, I was the one cast away.”

“I’m…” she heard him mutter in the car. She quizzically raised an eyebrow.

“I’m sorry…” he said to her, reaching for her hand. This time, she complied, but the hands he held weren’t the ones which gracefully touched his lips or embraced him when he was sad. These hands were lifeless and cold. “I’m so sorry.” He whimpered and looked down, and soon, he was on his knees, still holding her hands.

Her mind raced with things to say. “I’m sorry doesn’t work this time,” or “That’s not good enough for me,” or even “…I hate you.” But all she did was let his hands go. Then they fell to the floor, as lifeless as hers, as she stepped out the room. She walked down the hall, out the door, and she was resolved on never seeing him again, even though the one thing that resonated in her heart above all as she cried on her walk back home was…

“I love you. Please don’t hurt me… I want to try again.”

And still there they were, sitting cold inside the car.

“I’m…” he managed to mutter again.

“You’re what?” she asked, a little indignantly “You’re sorry?”

He nodded slightly, then suddenly shook his head. She just started at him, now really confused. What was he trying to say?

“I love you…” he had finally told her, after months of them playing around with each others’ hearts. After all they had gone through, he finally told her, and she had never hurt so much in her life.

“Goodbye…” was all she said as she opened the door and walked out into the rain. And all he did was die a little inside as he fell asleep in his cold, and now lonely, car, never wanting to wake up again.

Man...

I hate you because you hurt me and I might, just might, have a chance with someone good, someone that I had no other choice but to get to know because I wanted him and I didn't try (hard) because he was with someone. I hate you because if he reads any of this it could severely hurt any chance I ever had with him, because this shit never looks good on anyone's resume. I hate you because I want and need closure but I know I shouldn't. You are causing some major problems over some shit that is no where close to important.

In truth, I don't really hate you. You just really pissed me off. And I swear to God if I had a chance with him and I lose it because of shit you made me feel, I and you will never forget this.

Ugh, great. Now I sound like a crazy bitch.

Who Are You?

A friend of mine just posted something on Facebook about thinking about people, wondering if you catch yourself thinking of someone and what they're doing, or whether someone does that for you. It was sweet. I made the list haha, and it made my heart swoon. So, I think I'll do the same...

Here's to you:

Mom, Dad, Mom(haha), Brian, Keith, Lauren, John, Bri, Heaven, Granny, Granny, and Granny, Papa, Bubba, Billy, Aunt Annie, Uncle Bruce, Uncle Greg, Aunt Cynthia, Dean, Gail, Gin, Jessica, Queen, Derrica, Dashelle, Efin, Annabelle Rector, Kyle Anderson, Kyle Lovett, Jeremiah Smith, Maggie and Molly Carroll, Taylor Pennington, Tyler Bjornson, Alan Nguyen, Brady Duncan, Zack Kruger, Suzie Q, Mama Sam, Brittany Quire, Alex Giannavola, Mitchel Corbett, Ryan Engle, Cameron Backus, Beau Turner, Aaron Killingsworth, Scott Hulsey, Gurrie Frisbie, Casey Jo Burnett, David Beavers, Colby Bennett, Collin Davies, Jody Carson, Anthony Williams, Brandon Snider, Matt Bristow, Yukiko Taylor, Jamie Simpson, Jess Fisher, Jen Cooper, Pam McCoy, Joy Hinson, Jenn Eakin, Kerry Williams, Cortney McDonald, Derrick Jones, Derrick Johnson, Stephanie Drangle, Irem Duyar, Angelica Mercado, Mindy Mann, Brandi Mosier, Jessica Bennett, April Kennedy, David Beavers, Blair Wright, and Clermon Acklin

I know I run the risk of hurting some people's feelings, but these people have all made life livable at some point or another. They've been the ones most responsible for helping create the person that people know today, and for helping me realize just what within me is good. I appreciate you all, I promise. And to others, I appreciate you too because you all have affected who I was and who I became. And that, in itself, is your greatest gift to me.

Thank you, Thank God, from the bottom of my heart.