Tuesday ▪ December Thirtieth, 2011 ▪ 10:01 pm

Mood: Sad

I’m not a very open person, honestly. Even to those who are “closest” to me don’t know half of what goes through my mind. People like Kevin, I tell “everything,” but everything isn’t really everything. I hide a lot and I keep a lot bottled up.

Let’s talk about Kevin first for a bit. I’ve known him since I was going into seventh grade. So I’ve known him since I was about twelve, at this point it’s almost four years. Yes we dated briefly and we are “good friends” (Not really as good as I’d like. We barely talk. We barely see each other. Oh, plus the unrequited feelings I have towards him. Yeah, basically it’s not “good” at all.) Despite all that, I still tell him more than anyone else in my life.

So yeah, I keep a lot bottled up. I have a very difficult time talking about my feelings. And this is due to the fact that throughout my whole life, no one really cared. No one asked me what’s wrong. People ignored me. People were mean. And when I would tell someone how I felt they would shrug it off. They would shrug it off like it was no big deal. And it hurts when you feel like crap and no one gives a shit. 

So I stopped. I stopped talking. People didn’t mind, people didn’t question, people didn’t care. It was all the same.

I’m a very insecure person, if you already hadn’t figured it out through all the other posts. But if there is one thing I am confident about, it has to be the fact I’m a good person. I’m nice, I’m not judgmental, I’m there when you need more, I give a mile. 

That’s great, you’re probably thinking. But it isn’t. When you’re like me, people don’t care. People treat you like shit when you treat them with decency and kindness. People accept how you give them a mile but never even give an inch. And it hurts. It hurts more than anything. 

I’m a good person and I always get treated like crap. And I go home and I cry and cry and cry and I never feel any better. I walk around and no one asks me how I’m doing or what’s wrong. 

When I’m upset, no one’s there. But when anyone is sad, I’m always there. No one is ever prepared to give me what I need. They use me like a tissue. They cry and I absorb their tears and then I’m thrown away because now they’re fine and I’m useless.

People treat me terribly and think I can just get up and be okay. But I’m not okay. I’m never okay. I lie, and I keep things in and I can’t tell anyone. If I did tell someone, it would fall on deaf ears. The words would come out but no one would listen to them.

No one would hug me or wipe away my tears or just tell me it’s okay. 

No one does anything.

Tuesday ▪ December Fifth, 2011 ▪ 8:12 pm

Mood: Confused

It’s weird how one day with someone I like so much could change my entire outlook. (For the worse, mind you.) For the longest time being single never hurt so much. When my ex broke up with me both the first and second time, I didn’t see us in every couple the way I see you.

Now I see couples and envy how they’re what I wish we could be. We have it all, everything necessary to be happy together. But we (you) just don’t take the leap.

Are you afraid? No, I know you, you’re not afraid of the relationship itself, you’ve been in many. I know for a fact you don’t think it’ll ruin our friendship. Maybe you’re not as interested in me as you and I thought you were. 

Maybe you don’t like me at all, even. Maybe you’re telling me what I want to hear all for the sake of a hook up.

I’m just so confused. I see you in the faces of couples, in the eyes of those who love each other. I see you everywhere, and it hurts. For years my feelings never hurt this much. But after those few kisses it’s all back. It’s here, possibly to stay for a long time. 

Tuesday ▪ November Twenty-Fifth, 2011 ▪ 5:58 pm

Mood: Unsure

Sometimes I just want to run away where nobody knows me. I want to disappear into the night and go somewhere that nobody knows my name. I want to start over, new name, new identity.

Sometimes I just want to get away from here. Away from all these people. To a new place, ya know? A place that gives me the chance to be who I always wanted to be.

Tuesday ▪ November Twenty-First, 2011 ▪ 5:58 pm

Mood: Unsure

I feel weird around gay and straight people sometimes. Like to so many of them, I’m not recognised as being attracted to everyone. I feel as though I’m thought of as straight by all the gay people and gay by all the straight people.

To escape this I go into periods where I’ll selectively talk about men around straight people and women around gay people, never the both together, never truly expressing my sexuality.

Monday ▪ November Fourteenth, 2011 ▪ 4:45 pm

Mood: Angry

I never understood the urge to try to convert someone to your own religion outside of a religious debate. 

There I was, eating my chicken at the dinner table and having an alright time. My father decides to spew some bullshit about religion and Christianity towards me, in attempt to convert me back to it. 

I rolled my eyes and kept my face down without a word the rest of dinner. He doesn’t get it. He tells me to be myself and whenever I am he deems it unacceptable. He always wants something to yell at me for or complain about, so he doesn’t ever just let me be. 

Then he wonders what made me so insecure. I don’t know, maybe it’s you. No, not maybe, it’s  almost always been you. My whole life it’s been “but maybe if you were this” or “well if you improved a bit..” I’ve never once gotten a “you did well,” or a “I’m proud.” 

Maybe the problem isn’t me. It’s definitely you.

People wonder why I hate you, and you know what?

It’s because you’re a prick who can’t take a day without smoking a blunt and always wants a reason to complain so you find every little fault in me.

Fuck you.

Sunday ▪ November Thirteenth, 2011 ▪ 9:26 pm

Mood: Calm 

Well, here I am. My first post on this blog. 

It feels like when you move into a new house. You’re all excited, it’s a new place to explore with new people and a new view. But at the same time, it’s all new. There are no memories (yet) and there is no emotional attachment. You miss the old, even though you can probably visit it whenever you like.

I’m a bit worried that I won’t write as much as I hope I will on here, but only time will tell, I suppose.