Fuck You, Fuck Everything You Have

Creative Writing, equality, Family, forgotten, fuck you, Jealousy, Journal, Personal, school

I’m not popular,
I’ll never be.

I’m the kid that sits alone at lunch
Cramming their homework in

The kid who walks straight home after school

Kid who doesn’t socialize with everyone else
mostly because they have rejected me my entire life.

Kindergarten was the same, kids walked by and shunned me from their view
Odd one out, forgot your name, last to be picked for the team.

I don’t get a lot of likes on Instagram, even if I did, I’m no Kylie Jenner
I’m not thin, or eloquent with my speech, I stumble over my own feet.

Only the odd like me, maybe I’m the queen of the unspoken followers.
I’ll be the queen of those who are constantly rejected, the unseen and trampled.

We are the overused race, the unvoiced angst of the century.

Fuck those picture perfect girls, who don’t need photoshop but use it anyway
Fuck those kids who don’t realize everything they have.

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Godless Life

Atheism, beautiful, Creative Writing, fuck you, Her, home, Jealousy, Journal, Love, Memories, Peace, Personal, Relationships

I’ll admit it, I’m happy they broke up – because for a short while I loved him.

I mean, who likes to feel replaced?  Who desires to see someone they would confide in become attached to someone new? not me.

Never me.

I may have disagreed with him on everything, he may have been an asshole at times, but I cared deeply for his shitty ass.

I hate that I cared, but I can’t help how I felt toward him.

But there he is. Sitting in front of me again, his gross hair that flips out at the bottom, his thick red jacket (the one that’s extremely fuzzy on the inside, the one that would keep my hands warm on rainy mornings before AP Psych). He got new shoes, I still wear the watch he gave me. a few weeks after we broke up he wore the leather bracelet I gave him, I wonder if he still has it. Why do I care? If he honestly came to me to make amends and try again I wouldn’t take him up on it – he hurt me too much.

He lied.

He dated Felicia.

He let me meet his family, when he knew he didn’t love me.

I loved him.

I could tell he didn’t love me.

I ignored it.

I’ll admit  it, as shitty as it makes me, I was happy when I found out his relationship wasn’t happy – I didn’t care that much if he loved her, I just was happy she didn’t love him.

He’s christian again,

lives with his crazy dad,

probably going into the military.

I’m atheist as fuck,

want to go to university,

I want to travel and live a godless life.

A life of love, of friendship, of tidiness and sex.

I want to burn candles on rainy days,

sleep in on Sundays,

read case studies and policies while drinking black coffee,

eat pomegranate seeds and avocado toast –

White bed spread.

Black bookshelves.

Wall of windows overlooking Seattle.

Seeing a therapist every Tuesday.

A clean fridge.

A white cat, miniature dachshund.

My godless life.

Recalling Memories

Church, fuck you, Humanist, Jealousy, Journal, Love, Memories, New, no trust, Partner, Personal, Religion, school

You were the first boyfriend that I was both physically and emotionally attracted to.

This is probably my least favorite part of breaking up because my dumb fucking brain only wants to remind me of all the cute things you did that made me like you..

How you got that app with the little kitten that would roam around on your phone. How your hair would flip when it was long.. how we would hold hands during psychology. How your face would brighten up when you would see me waiting for you at lunch or before 4th period. Holding hands when you drove – that long car ride we took to Taft.. When you came over that one time and we watched that really annoying and shitty movie Nate recommended, we got taco bell, and cuddled on the sofa…. When I came over to your house and took that picture of you with a Snapchat filter of a cat.. When we went to starbucks together and you hated me for getting you to like the passion tea lemonade. Taking me to the melodrama, getting that pretentious macaroni and cheese in SLO with your mom..

But then, there were the times when I just couldn’t help wondering why we were ever together.. When we would argue about anything political. When you told me you were thinking about going into the military. When you just the other day told me that you couldn’t date someone who was fat – or when you out right said that you would specifically look for things that solidified your existing beliefs. The racist songs you played in the car that one time…

I only broke up with you because you obviously didn’t want to be with me anymore, and I’m not sure why you hesitated to do it yourself.

I love you, but now I resent that more than I ever appreciated it. It’s burdening me, I don’t want to love you.

Complaining

Atheism, beautiful, Beauty, Blame, Failure, fuck you, Future, god, Her, Hope, Humanist, Jealousy, Journal, Love, Memories, New, no trust, Personal, Religion, school, science

This last week has been hard.

I fell down a hill and ended up hitting my house. My whole body is sore.

I lost 10 points in PE because I couldn’t run the mile – my leg was too beat up, I hardly made it through the day walking between classes.

Also during PE: I ended up on a team with the two athletic girls (one of whom is in AP Lang with me —  let’s just say I embarrassed myself. My hair band broke, and my hair is at this really ugly length, it’s not quite above the shoulder, but it’s not really below it.. So, I was messing with my hair instead of trying to play badminton. I’m pretty sure they don’t like me now. Pretty sure I lost the game for us.

After PE, I had a physics test. Completely forgot how to solve one of the equations, even though I had studied an extra hour of unrequired materials in preparation two nights before. Of COURSE I forgot. The teacher gave me this look of disappointment, mixed with something related to anger and simply said “you knew this was going to be on the test.” and he was right. but I had also studied. I was understanding it. But then the test came and I was already having a bad day and the next thing I knew, I was out of his class and trying my absolute best to not cry at school. I can’t be the girl who cries at school again…

I’ve made a point to not talk about my family issues at school, or about anything negative that would set me apart. I don’t want anyone at school to know my past or present grievances.

But I still had a panic attack at school and hid in the bathroom stall, trying to control my breathing — those bathrooms seriously need loud fans or music because you can hear EVERYTHING that is going on in the next stall over. Seriously.

To top it off, we had vocal auditions that afternoon. Imagine singing, after having been so worked up, you had to stop yourself from crying.

The group did vocal warm ups together, and I’m perfectly comfortable singing in a group, but solos and I do not mix (at least not yet). And so when they asked me to do a solo part in the warm up, I nearly puked. I felt something lurch up from in my stomach, and lost my breath. Anxiety is great.

Then, that night was when I found out I had lice.

It was a wonderful day.

My sister is leaving for europe in four days.. She’ll be gone for a month. I’ve never been apart from her for that long. But she’s kinda pissed at me right now, and I hope things get better between her and I before she gets back..

She’s going to be gone for my birthday.. I’m turning seventeen in a month and two days.

Everything has me feeling so defeated. I don’t feel like I can cry anymore. I don’t feel like I can express my emotions without being judged. It hasn’t stopped me, but it makes me hesitant.

I want to feel pretty again. I haven’t felt pretty since I cut my hair. not really.. I’ll have moments of feeling attractive, but I don’t look in the mirror and think I’m beautiful. I would like to think that I’m pretty without my long hair, but I don’t think I believe that.

I feel so sick. Between waiting for the cast list to go up and my physics grade to go on Aeries, I really am not sure how I’m going to cope with all this stress.

Oh, and I decided to post this on facebook:

I wish I could have read this post early on, after my parents divorce.

I wish that people hadn’t excused what happened in our house as “God’s will” or even said that it was “for the better” — no. Definitely not.

Being mentally abused was not good, it hasn’t made me a better person in ways that I couldn’t have grown without it. I loath when I am told that it was a good learning experience or even that I am a better person because of it.

No. Abuse didn’t make me a better person, it’s stifled me in many ways emotionally and socially – and I would never tell another person that it was a positive thing if I learned that it had happened to them.

PTSD hasn’t made me a better person – I’ve become more understanding, yes, but that isn’t to say that it wouldn’t have happened without it. I have been told that it will allow me to walk a path of individuality because of I have it — while that may be true, the panic attacks that come with PTSD do not make me a better person. They hurt me. They stop me from performing as a healthy human being in social situations – that happened just today at school.

It’s okay for bad things to happen to us, and the “band-aid” idea that the bad things happen for a reason does more damage than good to a person who is in pain. Allow us to grieve, allow for our pain to show in ways that may be socially looked down on – crying, not smiling in public, or even just not looking happy 100% of the time – those things are okay. Being unhappy isn’t bad – it’s healthy if you’ve experienced something traumatic.

A lady who I used to know from church decided to comment on it. Mind you, I’m not friends with her on facebook. But this is what she said:

“I doubt God wants people to suffer. However, he can help you recover and use your experiences for good if you allow him to.”

My response: ” It wasn’t my intention to communicate that God was purposefully allowing people to be in pain – I was simply trying to say that when people pass off horrific events (such as car accidents and domestic violence) as “gods purpose” it can be a destructive mindset for those who are in pain. What we need is to be loved and accepted for where we are in life, and if where we are isn’t a happy place – then show compassion, acceptance and love us through our pain. If there is a god, I don’t believe he would be mean-spirited or “out to get people” – want to make sure I’m clear on that”

Her retort: “You KNOW there is a god. I understand where you’re coming from and I appreciate you shedding some light on how to best love those who are in pain.”

Oh wait. Sorry Mrs. Russell.. Sorry that I didn’t know what I believed and that I had to ask you.

But I didn’t ask.

And for the record, I don’t “KNOW” there is a god, so cool your tits. No one knows if there are any deities, or if there aren’t. So. Just. Chill.

Say Anything

Hope, Humanist, Jealousy, Journal, Love, Memories, Partner, Personal, Poetry, Small Things

I don’t want to hear about your ex,
or the sad girl who needs your attention.

I don’t want to hear about your last relationship,
how things ended.

I don’t want to have reasons to be suspicious,
I don’t want to question if you care.

But when you talk about the sad people,
the people who needed you..
I feel like you don’t care about me.

We already are hardly talking.
We already have sexual issues.
We already have trouble communicating.

When we’re sitting in your car,
you don’t talk to me.
I look you in the eyes, thinking
“say something, say anything
but you are silent.

I just want a conversation,
a dialogue between two people.
I want a witty banter.

I’ve had enough of uneventful,
somber, silent, painful car rides.
I’ve sat in cars with guys who never talked.
I’ve been left sitting in the silence
wondering if they’ll ever open their mouth.

Say anything.

It makes me selfish.
It makes me a bitch.
It makes me jealous.
It makes me who I am
And nothing less.

What’s Going on Here?

equality, Future, Humanist, Jealousy, Journal, Love, New, Partner, Personal, Small Things

I don’t quite understand this yet, but I’m hoping that through writing things out as I go I can gain some knowledge.. I feel like things have been distant between us. I feel like you haven’t been as attentive as you were before, when we were first talking. It’s made me start questioning.. Not question my feelings, not even question your feelings, because I trust those are both true. But I have begun to question if we started dating too fast.

I’m nervous about a lot of things, insecure about them even, and I’m voicing these so we can be aware of the things that worry me and not make them worse if they have any merit. If you have any worries, I would hope you would feel comfortable enough to tell me.

Now, before I begin, these worries could all be a product of hormones and overthinking, but to be safe I am writing them out.

I’m worried that we started dating before we really got to know eachother. I’m worried that the connection we have won’t last. I got to thinking, while I was cooking myself dinner the other night, that most kids who start dating in high school don’t last as couples. I mean, there are the select few who stick together, but they are few. I’m worried that this is more important and serious to me than it is to you. I’m worried that I can’t get you off. I’m worried that we are just different enough for things to not work out in the long run.

I also thought about how I haven’t had a relationship that lasted, that by May we might not be together because that just happens to be the time of year when I have broken up both times.

I don’t want you to change anything for me. Long term relationships only work when both parties are being themselves with each other. I get that you adapt well, but that’s a different thing, adapting and completely changing yourself for people are entirely different. If you change for someone, you are denying who you are. If you adapt, you are acknowledging your surroundings and through being yourself are making the other people comfortable in the ways you know how that you think they will appreciate. I think, right?

I find that when you respond in short, quick messages, I can’t reply in a meaningful way. It actually upsets me because I really want to continue a conversation with you but I can’t because it feels like you could care less that we are texting. What has been communicated through the short, quick, meaningless responses is a lack of effort and a sense that you don’t care if we do or don’t talk.. Now, I will obviously try to understand where you’re coming from here (and I have tried to already) if you just don’t like being on your phone or texting the entire day.. but if you know I’ve had a bad day and we haven’t been talking that day, please don’t ignore me all night playing video games and forget to say goodnight. Those things do mean something to me. Even if I don’t see that goodnight text before I go to sleep, waking up and seeing a message from you makes me happy. In fact, any form of reassurance that you care about me is always welcome because I tend to doubt that in everyone.

Things Are Over Between Us

forgotten, fuck you, Future, Her, Hope, Jealousy, Journal, Memories, New, no trust, Personal

I should have done this the first time I was hurt by you. Breaking up with a friend is always hard.

At this current moment in time, I don’t know if I will actually send this to you, or just post it on my blog. I am hurt. I have been hurt. The first time I recall being hurt by you was last year, I can’t recall a date, but I know what happened. You invited seemingly everyone but myself over to watch Lord of the Rings. Your mom posted about it on facebook, I saw it that night. Wondering where I had gone wrong, what I had done to you, I cried myself to sleep that night. I had considered you a good friend, I would have invited you to something, which is why it stung.

In that moment, I realized I appreciated our relationship more than you did. I realized that you guys probably didn’t miss my presence or realize you had forgotten me, or if you had, I wondered if I should blame myself.

I don’t know if you’re aware of  this, but when we were in San Francisco, I was supposed to be in your room instead of Avery. I asked the teachers if they wouldn’t do that to me because the idea of having to share a room with you, Kodai, and Siena sounded like a living hell. I knew I would be left out, I knew I would end up hating the trip, and I wasn’t going to have that happen after I had worked so hard to get there. It was my last hooray with my friends and I didn’t want to spend it in your trios shadow.. So, I asked the teachers for a room change, and I honestly had never felt like such a fucking burden because Eric, Peggy, and Kristin all hated me the rest of the trip. They thought I was just wanting to be with my friends, that I was being a little baby and didn’t want to socialize. But the truth? I would have accepted a room with Jo and Eunice if that meant I didn’t have to spend an agonizing weekend in the shadow.

I’m sure you must be aware of what a clique you, Kodai, and siena had become last year. You guys hurt a lot of people. Made a lot of people feel left out and unwanted. I know that Leslie, Makena, and Fiona felt that way at least.

I didn’t get a pixie cut because of you guys. I really wanted to, but after you and Kodai both did it, I didn’t want to seem like I was trailing along after you guys in hopes that you would accept me. I’m really fucking happy I didn’t do that.

In fact, the problems didn’t even stop there. I’m not saying that what your mom does is your issue, but she has blatantly ignored both riley and I on a few occasions, which really hasn’t helped the Locke’s case.

My point is, I think you and I stopped being friends a long time ago. I think that whatever we have left is not a friendship, but I will think back on when we were friends fondly. I have been really hurt by you, mostly by being excluded, and now with whatever is happening between you and Cadence.. I’m pretty sure our friendship has officially ended. It should have a long time ago.

Too Much, Too Little, Too Many Questions

Future, Hope, Jealousy, Journal, New, no trust, Partner, Peace, Personal, Small Things, Smiling

Right now I need to cry. I don’t know why, I’m not sure what is making me feel like this. Is it my doubts? My fears? My intuition? Can I sense that something is not right, or am I making a problem?

Isn’t that my life in a nutshell? I worry, make issues (referencing: sam), or I assume I have made an issue and later find out that I was correct the entire time (referencing: megan/cadence)..

My intuition told me to not trust Cadence because he was so close with Megan – now my intuition is telling me to be alert. It’s telling me to keep my eyes open, pay attention to my situations.. Should I trust? Opening myself up to trust someone new is terrifying.. They can hurt me, they could end up being untrustworthy, or they could just be playing with me.

I’m too eager. I care too much. I love too much. I’m too sensitive. I am too much.

What if he isn’t over her? What if this really means nothing to him and he’s just good with words and convincing me? What if.. There are so many what ifs.

I started questioning when I felt distance, wondering if this was really as great as I had assumed. Most things aren’t. Most things disappoint, hurt, or anger me once I find out the truth. I’m hesitant to care.. I’m nervous because if this isn’t some sort of satirical joke, it’s not going to be like the last two. Somehow, it will be realistic for me. I don’t have plans to move away. I don’t have a college I’m set on. I don’t even have any set plans for my future.. This could end up being longer than any other relationship I have had.

I don’t want to commit myself to someone who isn’t ready, to someone who I might not be sexually compatible with, to someone who after the first week of seeing eachother already is wanting a break. Is it doomed from the start? Are these things workable? Am I finding issues where they aren’t?

On the other side of the argument.. The last time I felt as relaxed as I do in his arms, I was an infant. He makes me calm, happy, relaxed. He makes me smile naturally, like no one else has been able to do since before the divorce. Then I must pose the question to myself – am I being too attached too soon? Do I care too much? Did I allow myself to be too vulnerable too soon? Push things too far too fast?

I wish I understood, but I never understand. I wish I wasn’t as inhibited as I have become since moving. I also wish I wasn’t abused, but we all know how that worked out.

My Perfect Partner

Athiest, beautiful, Beauty, bisexual, Domestic Violence, equality, Family, feminism, Future, Hope, Humanist, Jealousy, Journal, Love, Loving Life, Memories, Partner, Peace, Perfect, Personal, Religion, Small Things, Smiling

My perfect partner.. They would be assertive, taller than me, about a year older than me, pretty fit or small, kiss really well, their occupation would be in a field of science, they would be a mathematical person with soft emotions, we would share the same taste in music and humor, they would be atheist or buddhist. Preferably would have brown or dark hair, would wear leather shoes (probably oxfords or sandals). They would play chess, read for leisure, cook occasionally. High libido, masculine but not necessarily male. They would love theatre like Shakespeare and have wanderlust. They would aspire to know everything they could, never stop learning. They would love foggy weather, as well as the rainy days. They would share my nerdy side, loving Lord of the Rings and Sherlock as much as me. They would understand that I have many emotional issues, including but not limited to PTSD, depression, anxiety, and binge eating. They would understand that sometimes I really just need to be left alone or have things that are just mine and don’t share. They would let me go through everything I need to – like dying/cutting my hair, losing or gaining weight, that sometimes I get jealous and I can’t help it. They wouldn’t mind me spam texting them when I feel like it, that I can over analyze things because of my past. They wouldn’t mind that I can overreact to things, that sometimes I need weeks or months to just cry. Sometimes I can’t sleep. They would understand that I have a really difficult time loving people, that I have a really difficult time trusting something that isn’t fantasy or an animal. They would understand that I am a person who fluctuates in everything: emotions, weight, ideas. I’m constantly changing and don’t like settling. They would understand that I have a very hard time trusting men specifically, that I have a lot of triggers, that when I love I love fully and will commit like nothing else in the entire world because they are mine and they understand me. They would need to be passionate and caring, interesting but not a douche, kind but not delusionally so. They would never leave me. They would be really sexual, enjoy the mystery of large cities and live in one with me. Their last name wouldn’t start with an S because I don’t want my initials to be ASS (which sucks because I have a tendency to attract and be attracted to people with surnames that begin with S). They would be down for adventure at any hour. They wouldn’t let me get stuck in my ruts where I forget what I love..

Most importantly, I want to be attracted to them in the way that I fall in love instantly. The kind that makes me crazy, the kind that I can’t sleep over. Where I yearn to know everything about them and once I know that, I want to learn more.

They would be feminist, an ally or part of the LGBTQ community, they wouldn’t support anything anti-LGBT, they would understand the importance of spreading the knowledge of domestic violence. They would love me as much as I love them and I wouldn’t doubt it. They would like small dogs and cats, enjoy poetry and a cup of tea. They would own professional clothing – as a male they would wear a navy suit, as a woman a pencil skirt and blazer.. They would hold my hand when we were shopping, they would hug me often.. I would never doubt them.

This person makes me believe in love. They make me warm and happy inside.

Squash Me like a Grape

Blame, equality, forgotten, fuck you, Future, Her, Hope, Humanist, Jealousy, Journal, Memories, no trust, Personal, school

Every time I think about my relationship with Cadence (specifically how it ended), I’m filled with rage. It’s been like four months already, but when I see a status of his on Facebook or see Megan’s friends online, I get angry and frustrated..

It’s different than how I felt about Sam when we broke up – maybe that’s because Cadence broke up with me (I was intending to do it too, but there’s a form of belittlement and shame that goes along with being broken up with that hurts in a different way), or maybe it’s because I doubted his monogamy toward me while we were together.. Or that I question if he ever stopped caring for Megan.

It’s different from Sam because I never questioned if he loved me – he was loyal and good. Cadence, on the other hand.. Things happened that made me question everything I thought I knew when we were together, I thought I could trust him. I told him things I hadn’t told anyone else. I fell asleep in his arms and let myself pour out and made myself trust him because I remember wondering if I could ever trust a man after my father had been so abusive..

So I put myself out there – I trusted him – what did I get in return? Information that he still had feelings for Megan. It killed me. Not because I sincerely liked him, but because I put effort into trusting him and he hurt me, used the things I told him against me.

I was torn apart, what was I supposed to do? I had made myself vulnerable to him, and he took that opportunity to fuck me over.

I don’t want these trust issues. I don’t want to question everyone’s motives when they try to be a part of my life. I don’t want to be this con man who always has to have the upperhand because they’re scared someone will hurt them. I want to be openly vulnerable with my emotions, to be an open book with no secrets.. But I do have secrets, and I guard them with dear life because they are all I have. Those secrets are the only things I have control over once shit hits the fan. They are my security blanket that catch me when I have to jump off a 7 story building that’s on fire. They protect me from the Cadence’s and Art’s..

Just writing this out has helped me immensely. I realized that the anger I was feeling was just a topical emotion – there was a lot under it that meant a lot more.

I’m hurt that I put myself out there and Cadence squashed me like a grape.