part II

When I decided to leave that cat in the box I forgot one key thing: Cat's don't like being stuck in boxes-they will mostly likely make their own escape.

I never walked down the street to the cross roads, I never even asked him to meet me there. It was just a fantasy, the fantasy of what I should have done but was to chicken to actually carry through with.

I met a guy at work, we get along like peanut butter and jelly. He is tall, dark and handsome; not to mention the biggest dork you've ever met. When we hang out, all we do is laugh. He goes to Camosun and I go to UVic and so, lately he has been busing to UVic on a friday and waiting for my class to get out. Day 1-we got bubble tea in china town and he taught me how to eat lychee nuts. Day 2-we found a "wild" cafe with drift wood chairs and "white coffee" tucked away in a little corner of Victoria. Day 3-we were assaulted by an overly talkative drunk lady on the bus and I climbed on the back of his ATV and went quading. He was all that I was thinking about as I bused from his house back to Sidney. I was under the impression that tonights "party" at Donny's was going to be extremely lame.

"What do you mean you aren't drinking?!" Donny asked as he held the front door open for me. I explained for a third time: I have to work tomorrow, I don't have any booze and my dad is picking me up in four hours. Donny ignored the most important bits, "I'm sure you could pawn some booze off of me once I have had a few!" he winks at the end and turns to walk into his house, leaving me with a pile of shoes. I slip off my boots and check my reflection in the mirror, my new jeans look good and my hair is falling right into place. I followed the same path Donny took, and enter the main room-everybody looks up but I look for and see his blue eyes first. He smiles. I feel like there is more to his smile, we haven't seen each other in a while and I sense it in his smile. I tear my eyes away and head for the kitchen, where there is food every where. I lay out my contribution to the potluck and turn back to the party, still disinterested and my mind wanders to TallDark&Handsome.

The night goes by slowly. Our bellies are full and we have a couple of poker games under our belt so we meander to the deck and light a fire in the stove. BlueEyes is becoming a social butterfly, flitting from place to place, person to person; I used to assume this behaviour was about me, I thought I was being avoided and in a way I am. He never pays much mind to me in a group setting, maybe it's because we are both being butterflies, maybe it is because he sees enough of me outside of the group, it doesn't matter because it doesn't bother me anymore. I can get his attention if I need it. So I did. When Mitch offered a joint I quietly accepted and headed down the steps as non-chalant as I could. Usually I refuse if BlueEyes is there because I'm afraid of his judement, but I had buried that cat in that box and I had TallDark&Handsome on my mind. I wanted BlueEyes to know that I didn't care anymore. If he noticed me leaving, he didn't react but when I walked back up those stairs, our eyes met and I was pretty sure my message was coming through.

As a result of my rebellious inhalation I was neither thinking straight nor measuring when I snuck into the kitchen and mixed myself a jager meister and coke. I love jager but jager doesn't really love me. A couple shots later Donny caught onto my less then sober behaviour, not that he was a perfect example, and I blamed it on the weed. Then I casually asked him if I could have a few shots of jager and he agreed happily. And then everything was great. I was texting and flirting with TallDark&Handsome and I wasn't drunk enough for the drunker people to notice. Mitch and Travis hotboxed the empty hot tub and Sam gave me another speech about how I'd fine love eventually. This time I laughed.

tbc
(the good part is coming, this happened last night if ya want some context!)

part I

Schrödinger’s Cat:

Say there is a box, and in that box is a cat and a vile of poison that can and will burst open at anytime-killing the cat. However, the box is closed and unless you open the box, the cat can be thought of as both dead and alive; since a cat cannot be both dead and alive you must open the box to find out.

Our relationship is that cat. It’s in a closed box that neither of us wants to open...just in case the cat is dead. But what other option do we have? If the cat is alive, we can’t leave it in the box to die. We have a chance to save it. And you won’t open the box. So I will.

October hit and brought with it cold, cold weather, the kind of cold that chills you down to your core and makes you long for your warm bed, and a lover to keep you warm. I thought about my winter jacket hanging in the front closet, I had left it behind with the notion that fall is just too warm for winter attire, and pulled my sweater tighter across my chest. Meeting a boy at the beach in July is one thing, meeting a boy at the beach in October is another, but this was not the day for a crowded coffee shop setting, no that would not do at all. I hugged my arms to my chest, more for security then warmth. We had met here, at the crossing of our two roads, many times but today I was not excited, I was nervous as hell.

It’s one thing to have a friend that’s shitty at getting in touch with you, another when you know you feel much more for them then just friendly and even another thing when you think they feel the same way and they are still shitty about making plans, calling you, even texting you. This lack of communication takes my already over-active insecurity through the roof. So, the last time I talked to the boy in question I didn’t get a response and then my best friend tells me about Schrodinger’s cat and that I need to open the box or bury the cat (possibly) alive. I was less then confident about reaching out to him once again. But I did, because I refuse to give into being such a pudding.

Oh god, here he comes. I could see his distinct walk as he approached the cross road. My stomach flipped, once, twice, three times. Every little doubt and insecurity took this opportunity to make themselves heard. He crossed the road and smiled in greeting, welcoming me into a hug by stretching out his arms. I released my hands from their tight wrap around my shoulders and stepped into his chest; my hands patted his sides, arms still stuck to my body like I was hugging goddamn leper, not an old friend. We made small talk but I was more focused on shutting up the negativities bouncing around in my brain. We probably talked about how cold it was-I remember noticing that he didn’t offer me his jacket which spurred another onset of insecurities-and what we had gotten up to during the week. We sat on a log and I hugged my knees to my chest, again only because I was scared but at least I could pretend it was because I was cold.

“What do you want to do?” he asked tentatively.

“I don’t know, I thought we could just chat?” I trailed off; I came here with a purpose and I wasn’t going to let these damn insecurities get in my way.

“Okay,” he smiled a little.

“...and I don’t just mean the usual, in which I talk and talk and talk, I mean like, a real, significant, conversation.”

“Okay,” he repeated. There was a long pause. It was uncomfortable for me, but I don’t think it classifies as an ‘uncomfortable pause’ seeing as I was not in a ‘comfortable’ mindset to begin with. “What do you want to talk about?”

“I don’t know.”

“Okay...”

“Well, I do know, but, you know.”

“No. Not really.”

I stood up, looked at the spot I had just been occupying and then sat down again. “Sorry, I was uncomfortable,” I said with a laugh at my misleadingly untruthful answer. “Last week, when we hung out with everybody, you seemed, for lack of a better word: off. Remember? I asked you if you were mad at me.”

He nodded. “...and you said not to worry, you weren’t mad etc.” He nodded again. “Well I’ve noticed this, kind of “pattern” in our friendship and I want to know if I’m crazy or not.”

“Of you thinking I’m mad at you?” he said, furrowing his brow.

“No, no, no. Well, not quite. But I haven’t explained the pattern yet,” I paused, admitting truths always takes a moments confidence build up, “I just have to make sure we are as good of friends as I think we are...and that you won’t judge me if I’m totally off base.” I didn’t think I was totally off base, but I was afraid of the possibility.

He grinned at me lovingly, “I won’t judge you. I promise.”

I bumped my shoulder into his, smiling, and stared out at the grey ocean. “See, I found that when I have a possible love interest in my life-with the exception of Matt, cause you brought that one to my attention-you start acting really...strange.”

I snuck a look at him, his entire body had become kind of tense and he was no longer looking at me but staring forward and fidgeting with some rocks he had in his hands.  He said nothing and I knew that if I was right, he was deciding whether or not to be honest with me. So I continued. “At least, just from where I’m from; for example, Friday I hung out with Josh and then you and I walked away with the feeling that you were mad...during the summer when I started dating Dan? As far as I was concerned you gave me attitude towards that...and to be honest, you were never that nice to Marc...”

I have no doubt that you are mine, babe. You are mine.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NjQEId0uAFU

I have so many ideas.
I have so many plans.

I lack so much motivation.
I lack so much drive.

The problem with University is that my heart comes before my head.
I am paying to educate myself but my heart wants to run away.
My heart wants friends.
My heart wants a lover.
My heart wants to travel.
My heart wants to drink and dance.
My heart wants to meet new people.
My heart wants to make you jealous.
My heart wants to feel sexy.
My heart wants so much.

My head knows I need to go to school.
My head knows I need to read.
My head knows I need to write the essays.
My head knows what's best.

 But my heart is unwilling to listen.

High-school was easy because in high-school I could satisfy both requirements.

Now I can't.
I have to choose.

There is a war being waged inside me.

Sh*t My Dad Says

#7. Dad: Goodnight, enjoy ruining my sweater!
Me: I'm not ruining your sweater!!!
Dad: Yes, sleeping in clothes ruins them.
(pause)
Me: Well, do you want me to take it off?
Dad: No.

While Driving home from work last night...

I raged. I am so mad at you. I don't care, no I don't give a fuck, if it's fair. Sure, you are only human and you deserve space when you want it, when you "need" it. But when you asked me to be yours you took our relationship to another level. I deserve to know what's going on, you owe that to me. You cannot just put us on pause; you cannot just put life on pause and this is a part of life...we are forever moving forward. I have no idea what is going on for you and therefore I have no sympathy. I am just mad. You surprised me, blind-sided me and I am hurt.

I'm not actually sure I will take you back. And I'm sure that will blind-side you in return. But that's not why I would do it. This is strike two. Strike one was texting your ex-gf 24/7. I am not a controlling bitch so I said nothing because I did not want to give you reason to control who I talk to, what ex's I can be friends with. And also because I thought it was fair. You promised me you were over her and that you were just friends. But for god's sakes, you would stop making out with me to reply to her texts. If this has anything to do with her I really don't know if I can take you back. I don't even trust you right now.

It's ridiculous, but I want to change my relationship status and give you my flowers back. I feel as though I have been broken up with. You cannot just leave me here hovering in no-man's land waiting for you. You cannot just ignore me, pretend that I am not here. I hope you know that when you do finally come to tell me what is happening, whenever that will be, that I will be telling you all of this.

I hope you know what you've done.

I should of known better then to give you my only heart

Yesterday I was feeling insecure about us. I didn't know how you felt but I thought that I was the one bringing all the tension into the relationship. I assumed that I was creating this feeling, because I was insecure.

Today you told me you didn't know how you felt about me. It all became so clear. Why I let myself believe, over and over again, that I am seeing things wrong or imagining your actions I don't know.

Yesterday you wanted to fix everything but you couldn't.

Today I figured out what was wrong inside. Today I fixed everything...except you. I let myself think that I was the problem and that you would be fine and waiting for me when I realized what was wrong. Today you proved me wrong.

Yesterday I was falling in love with you and hoping that you were falling in love with me too. Yesterday  I was scared.

Today I am confused and hurt. My heart is breaking and I am regretting letting myself love you.

I want you to talk to me. I told you that and you said nothing. I am surprised at my reaction to your confusion. You are just a boy who needs time to think. I guess I didn't know how much I loved you until you threatened to leave. I'm reading too much into this. All you asked for was some time to think. But I don't want to let you think; I want to let you talk. Tell me what's happening so that I can have a fighting chance. I have no idea how you feel about me so I have no idea if there's is somebody on my side in your head. I don't even know if you are texting her right now. Why does she get a representative and I do not. Maybe this has nothing to do with her. If it doesn't then I've done something wrong. What did I do wrong? This is why I want to talk to you. How long are you going to make me wait? Are you pretending I do not exist? Are you thinking about me at all? Cause I am certainly thinking about you. If I'd only had an hour with you...

Can I possibly be mad at you when you finally do talk to me if you make me wait? Are we even together right now? Last night I dreamt of another boy he was very nice. I kept thinking of you but I was so mad at you for hurting me. Which is unfair. All you did was ask for space...but maybe you didn't realize how quickly I trust and how quickly I get hurt. I also dreamt that you did text me back. Then I woke up. You hadn't.

Current Shenanigans

I love you.
I love you.
I love you.

I'm not sure I love you.

Okay, I do love you.
I'm going to tell you.

I'll wait.
You're not sure about me?
You don't want to hang out?
You're confused?

Answer my text.
Come see me.
Lets talk.
Let me show you how much I love you.
So that you can love me too.

Come back.

Good Intentions

His Intentions were Good.
He saw a problem in the making,
He tried to avoid it.

He made it worse.
His concept of our reaction was way off.
So he lied.
Walked away,
forgot to say,
just where he was going.

We started to wonder
Where did he go?
We called him
"I'm just on a walk" he said
I thought that was weird.
"It's not weird" he said.
"do you want me to come back?" he said

"Yes of course, but tell me,
Why did you leave? Without a word?"
Silence.
He had hung up.
He came back.
Everything was normal.

But we saw through his lie
Always do
He thinks he has to hide
stay taboo

But he's wrong.
He's making it worse.
He looks like an ass,
though his intentions were good.

Time Warp

Everything has gone speeding backwards. You and me are back to where we were weeks ago. This sounds negative as I write it down...but it's a good thing. It's like I'm being given a second chance...now if only I didn't have quite so much homework...

Wait for me while I write essays, please! :D

Uncomfortable Company

I asked you to walk home with me because I miss our friendship, not because "I didn't feel like walking alone". But that's what I told you. I don't want to tell you the truth. The truth is I just can't stop loving you, it doesn't matter what I do or what you do. I just can't stop it. So I'm accepting it and trying to at least get back what we had.

But you're so different. I don't know what happened. Where did my positive, funny, comfortable friend go? I'm not sure but he has been replaced. And I don't like the replacement. He's negative and so awkward around me. What did I do? Again, what changed? And where was I?

So, here I am; in love with the old you and stuck with the new. It's a terrible dilemma. Because the harder I look for the old you, the farther away you go.

What did I do to deserve losing you?

We walked quite a ways sharing our usual quick and continuous conversations. We both get distracted easily and neither of us ever really finish a thought. But we like it, well I like it, and it works. That's the funny thing. I could never talk to the old you. The old you would look at me longingly, hug me, walk with me but never really talk to me. I wished you would. Now I'd give it up just for a minute with the old you. I miss him. I wonder if he misses me...

Then I asked why you were so stressed, in such a bad mood. I wanted to ask more. Ask why you didn't love me anymore, ask if you ever did. Ask why you were never happy. Tell you I care, that I want you to be happy; that you deserve to be happy. I wanted to tell you it was going to be okay, and that I would help you through. I would save you. But I didn't I just asked why you were having a bad day, because it was safe. "That damn French essay." You said. I tried not to laugh. "I know," you said. "You've got three essays, it's nothing in comparison...but I just hate the pressure." I nodded and pretended to be thinking. But really I was looking at your profile. You look so sad, it must be more then that. It must be. That conversation flowed into one about scholarships and then into what you were going to do in September. You're leaving. I won't let it affect me yet, I thought. Then you started talking about the summer. You're not going to be here then either.
We stopped walking. This is where you turn off.

"So, basically...I won't see you after we grad..."
You stumble on that. I can't tell if it's just the awkwardness of what I've said or because you realized it too and it means something to you.
You laugh awkwardly, "...I wouldn't say that..."
Now it's my turn to laugh awkwardly.

I say goodbye and go to turn away. You hover and I think you want to say something more. But you don't.

I keep walking and I want to turn away but I don't, not until it is too late for you to turn around too and see me. I just see your feet going around the corner and I sigh.

What will become of us...what has become of us?

Waaaaaaah.

I am sick.
So sick.
And all I want to do, other then be better, is whine and bitch about it.
I hate being that whiny person but OH. MY. GOD.

I just tried to crawl into bed and get a good nights sleep, and the moment my head hit the pillow I started hacking up both of my lungs. I coughed so hard that I gagged, and I gagged so hard that I think I tore something in the back of my throat. It now hurts to swallow. Hurrah! ...not.

I spent all of Tuesday sweating and then being freezing cold with a head splitting head ache. I had to perform under these circumstances tonight-joyous...I was really looking forward to this show. I will prolly miss school tomorrow which will make for 3 days this week...IT IS SO CLOSE TO GRAD. I CANNOT AFFORD TO MISS SCHOOL. But I also can't really go to school cause I'll probably faint or dye or something.

All I want to do is sleep.
Or cry. Anything that'll get rid of this awful sickness.
I am also really mad at life for doing this.
I could scream!!! Y'know...if it didn't hurt.

Not to mention when I'm not up all night coughing, I am freezing cold. I mean like shivers and teeth chattering cold. I don't get it. All day I sweat from being too warm and then I crawl under 3plus blankets and I start shivering. Damn you sickness.

I really hate being sick.
It's one o'clock in the fucking morning and I have some awful flu and I can't sleep because everytime I lie down I start coughing and it hurts so much.

Wah. I am thoroughly displeased.
Sorry for ranting.

It's funny how quickly one's outlook changes.

Things have changed so much.
I don't like them anymore.
I can't be me in these terms.

I feel blaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah.

I just don't know.

I don't know anything.
I don't know how I feel.
I don't know what to do.
I don't know why I can't stop thinking about you;
or you.
I don't know why I just read our past and made myself cry.
I did know it would make me cry, but still on I read.

I don't know why none of you are talking to me.
I don't know if I did something.
Or didn't do enough.
I never seem to get it right.
I don't know what it is about me that makes people think I'm okay on my own.
I'm not.
I don't know why you don't show the emotion I do.
Why don't you love me like I love you?
Why must I start everything only to end up with nothing.
I have so many questions.
And no answers.

No answers.

Where have they all gone?

Where have all the people gone?
I once was surrounded, but that was a long
time
ago.

The Byronic Hero

As Bronte put it, a man who "is proud,
moody, cynical, with defiance and misery on his brow—usually a secret misery; and is passionate: capable
of strong and deep affection, implacable in revenge."

This reminds me of someone...

*goes to search up cure for Byronic  heroism*

There's no cure. But here's a few examples...
Batman :

 My beloved Mr. Darcy:

 And of course, Edward Cullen:

And...(this one's a reference for you Anne :P)

Forget me Knots

I think.
Then I rethink.
Following, I think about the thought.
Then rethink those.

I have all these reasons and excuses for other people.
But that is the question.
Are the reasons or excuses.
Sure, they are plausable.
But are they real.

To ask or not to ask; that is not the question.
For 'tis nobler of mind simply to know the answer
And do nothing about it.

Stream of Conscience

I am officially advising that one should not drink tea after 8 o'clock at night; it's got more caffeine in it then coffee and so far it's working. I wanted to sleep, ah well.

Today was kind of crappy. Well, I'm in a crappy mood. My morning was fine, I got that ride to school I didn't think I would and thanks to coffee, I may have a caffeine addiction, I had a good first couple of blocks. I'm blaming the coffee crash for the next couple blocks. They dragged on and on and I just wanted to go home and sleep.

So now you understand my state of mind when this boy, whom I liked and was sure liked me not that long ago (twas kind of a big deal, I really liked him) but has since stopped showing and signs and me being me, I have not pursued him, starts acting friendly, a little flirty and I catch him starting at my chest. All I could think was, "Excuse me, no looking at the merchandise if your not willing to buy." Insert head wobble and snap.

Then I go for coffee with my friend who asks me about him in her catch up talk. And I talk way too much about him, seeing as I'm "over him." HAHA AS IF! Apparently, I'm good at fooling myself. Insert head shake. While I'm talking too much, she tells me "you need to get over yourself" I'm a little hurt, until she explains thats "not what she means". She means that I need to not worry about what people think, what people will think of my actions, if I'm good enough and just go for what I want....said boy.

She's right. She's so right.

Then I talked to Anne on the phone :) And of course, we talked about this boy again. My brain is just going "TOO MUCH TOO MUCH" and here I sit, in bed, unable to sleep and thinking about him. I feel stupid, because I'm over him and then when someone brings him up I natter on for ages.

So I'm not over him, I guess.

But looking back is the worst part, which is why I can't sleep. Looking back, I don't see bad, I see him and I sitting together in class, walking home together, messaging, flirting, hanging out alone. Even though neither of us had the balls to say it,  we liked each other. Looking back I see my friends, Ainslie, Mitch, Leona, Anne, Tatum...all wise people...telling me "he likes you." "go for it" "you have a chance"

Mostly I hear Mitch. He was hopelessly smitten with my friend and I sat there saying, sorry, sorry, sorry, she doesn't like you. And he turned to me once, when I was complaining about the earlier mentioned boy and said "at least you have a chance." Wow. Ouch, I mean he had at least expressed how he felt to her, even though he knew she wasn't that into him and I was just sitting on my hands? I then decided to go for it. Unfortunately I didn't see him for two weeks, and when he got back it was like somebody had cut the life line between us. More excuses I suppose.

Really it's my problem. I care way way way too much what people think and I don't trust that people will love me. That I'm good enough. Leona said it today, "most girls don't think they are good enough to be loved" and I think that was my problem. I just couldn't believe that he'd like me, and I didn't want to be rejected so I didn't pursue him. Writing that, I feel like an idiot. How could I think so lowly of myself. Half of me wants to ask him out tomorrow, but I know I won't.

What a major rant. I sound like a silly school girl!
This sounds dark and depressing, and sure I'm not in the greatest mood but I'm okay. I'm making discoveries, about me. That's been happening a lot this year. I've found out the kind of people I like to be around, the one's I can't stand. Believe it or not, I've made some progress in this confidence and trust issue thing and I've stood up for myself too. Now I just wish the caffeine would wear off, I'm tired but my eyes won't shut and I have band tomorrow. Sorry for the blah blah blahs.

My Newest Composition

http://www.facebook.com/video/video.php?v=10150588611065078

And Also, on the weird side...

I dreamt that Lindsay Lohan was singing the national anthem to the president, George Bush I think. We were on a navy boat too. The president was standing above us on a podium. Lindsay was facing him with a microphone. We were sitting below them (a group of girls) in fancy dresses. Really fancy dresses. The presdient was not very impressed. Lindsay could barely hold the tune.

Last Night

Can't really remember my dream last night. But I was in a castle. Climbing stairs, around and around and around. I think I was with Kirsten, my step-sister, or some one I had to take care of. And some one else; a friend, maybe Leona. I kept telling them: "It's okay, it's close! I've been here before" But the stairs just kept going and going. Although I thought I was at Craigdaroch Castle (a castle in Victoria that I've been too many times) these stairs were totally unfamiliar. They were narrow and stone and completley white, as if they'd just been painted. There was also the odd window as we went up.

At one point the stairs changed. Into those classic spiraling staircases, the ones with wooden railings and you can look down the middle at the bottom. Some one told me we had to tell some one at the bottom something and there was no way I was going back down. I leant across the railing and yelled downward. I think it was my Grandma at the bottom.  Then we kept climbing. We never reached the top.

Restless

The other night I dreamt that Greg was really mad at me. I was in my room but the whole household (plus) was running around trying to figure out what to do, about Greg being mad at me. In fact it felt like everyone was mad at me for Greg.

Eventually I wandered out of my room and ran into Greg. I asked him what  I did. I was crying. The dream was very long and I was sobbing throughout it. It hurt a lot. He said: "Ew Tole My Air." I couldn't understand him. He had a lisp. I made him repeat it. He said it again. But I still couldn't figure out what he was saying. I asked him to say it again, and he yelled it. He was getting red in the face and really angry because I couldn't understand him. Eventually I got it. He was saying: "You stole my chair."

He ran away. I couldn't remember taking his chair, and thought it was a big cafufel over nothing. I tried to find dad to explain that it was just a stupid chair, but everyone was gone.

Fickle Heart

Fickle Heart.
Fickle Heart?

Damn thats good. I wish I'd written that song.

Dreaming Again

Last night I dreamt I got married. Or that I was getting married. I don't remember the whole thing though, just bits and pieces-lots of visuals.

It was rushed, all of a sudden, and I didn't know why at first. I dug and dug and dug through my mothers closet (she was living at my house again, apparently), coming up with a long white skirt which was "just going to have to do." I put it on but I couldn't find a white shirt. So I wandered around in a long white skirt and my bra with my hair pinned to my head. There were a lot of people in my house, and the building itself felt bigger, my mother, however, was not there (although you could sense she was living in the house...the furniture and things). My mothers friend, my "Auntie" Fae, was there though-I have a clear image of her face and her wild mane of curly hair in obstructing my vision. I also remember trying very hard to do her hair...although it proved impossible. Eventually I found a lacey white shirt, I can still see it clearly on the hanger but I don't remember ever putting it on or seeing it on myself-after that I was wearing a shirt though.

Suddenly I remember I have a driving lesson booked, probably for today. I panick because if you cancel you get charged extra. I wait by the window for that turcoise care to back in. Everyone is gone the house is empty and small. Eventually he pulls in and I have to rush out and tell him that I cannot have the lesson today as I'm getting married. He says it's alright and that he will try to get the fees wavered but that he can't promise anything. My dad isn't very happy about having to pay. Part of the ceremony is happening now. In my living room. But soldiers interupt. My fiance is being called off to war. This is why the wedding was rushed, how could I not have seen that before. I have a vision and know my fiance will die before I ever see him again. I sob uncontrollably. (I don't recognize the man, and I cannot remember his face). A motherly woman, who is not my mother (possibly his) tries to get my to calm down because we must finish the ceremony before my to be husbands impending departure. She says I must for my son. All of a sudden I am aware that I have a child, all the memories suddenly pop into my head. If you had asked me seconds before in the dreams I would not have known. I cannot decifer if the child is a boy or girl, although the woman called it my son.

I am on the pier with my fiance. I look normal, but I think I am pregnant. I am explaining to him that I don't believe we have to get married just because I am pregnant. He will not take no as an answer so I leave him.

I am back in the living room. I feel as though I have been drugged just to go through with the ceremony. My husband is gone. I am sobbing again. Then my friend is there, in a tux (I won't say his name) but his image is slightly transparent...as though he is not actually there. He can't hear me. No one else appears to be able to see him. I am informed that he and I will be getting married.

I am in a car, with the motherly woman again. She acts like my mother but she looks nothing like her. My long white skirt is now black. I can't remember it changing but I am aware it has been black for a while. I ask where we are, and where we are going. I panick a little, aren't I supposed to be getting married today? I ask. No, she says. That's going to be next week. I see my friend in the tux again. Then I wake up.

Last week I dreamt I had a baby. All very eerie.

SO MUCH TO DO AND I'M SICK SICK SICK. BLAH.

DOMINOES

I'm falling like a domino

I don't have any control

Where I go

Stand me up

Put me in my place

Don't let me fall

I can't win this race

Alone

I'm falling like a domino

I don't have any control

Where I go

Where I go

Rock and Roll Baby

You're my rock.
I'm your roll.
You keep me standing
And I keep you moving
Forward, where ever
You need to go.

Somebody pour me stiff drink, I'm going crazy.

I'm so udderly fed up. Time and time again I am left hanging; always waiting for other people. I don't mind making plans, getting the group together, finding something fun for us to do but I do mind being ignored.

Last night I found myself at home alone, my two best friends (good old reliables) unable to make it out. My dad was out and so was my step sister and her mom. The boys were downstairs watching movies and probably getting high so I couldn't really join them. Oh well, I thought, I'll just read my book and send out a nice little facebook message seeing if anyones free :). This was at about 6:30. Two people got back to me saying maybe, but by that time I was snuggled up with my book and feeling sleepy. No one else got back to me, even you. But I was okay with that, I decided to stay home.

That night (so, last night) I also sent out a message about the possibility of the group going swimming. Does anyone even bother replying?? NOPE. Screw you all. I will just have fun alone....if only someone would pour me a drink.

One day later and it's the flip side.
My head aches because you've hurt my pride.

Everything was going well,
and now it's all damned to hell.

Happy. Happy. Happy.

Content. Blissful. Gratified.

Intoxicated. Lively. Light.

Laughing. Buoyent. Passsionate.

Peppy. Spirited. Auspicious.

Flight

Your friendship to me, is how I imagine air feels to the birds. All birds that take flight, that is. A soaring bird is a majestic sight and bird cannot soar without air. Can you imagine a bird that could not fly? How it would be humbled; awkward and weak. Birds are the kings of the sky, empowered by flight; empowered by air. They ride on the currents, as if in control. But do they realize? No. They are too often in the air to appreciate it. They do not feel the breeze under their wings and count their blessings. For birds have never been humbled by the loss of flight as I have never been humbled by the loss of your friendship. They are spoiled by air, and I am spoiled by you. When I turn and see you there, holding me up as the air does the birds, I am reminded. I think of those birds who have lost that which is so unknowingly dear to them and I am humbled. I am lucky, for I can return once more to the skies and regain my ignorance of your presence, unlike those birds. The birds that will only ever fly in their dreams.

His Hands

His hands grasped the rope tightly, pulling. The knuckles protruded from the pale, stretched skin and his fingers were starting to turn red. Veins popped up on the backs of his hands, as he tightened his grip. He fought the weight on the other end of the rope and the veins bulged, travelling up his arm. His hands were wide and strong, but gentle. They did not have the plumpness of a childs nor the elegance of a womans hand but they were desirable. The kind of hand you wanted to hold. A hand that would hold you. A warm hand.

His nail beds turned white around his short nails, the tips of his finger carved with small cracks, inconsistent with the smooth skin that stretched over the rest of his hand. Each crack was black with impermeable dirt from years of working tediously. The rope started to move. He used the new slack to quickly, pefectly, loop it around itself and tie a strong knot. The rope was forced to hold itself and he let go. His hands relaxed and returned to their natural olive colour.

She's going crazy

She thinks too much
She can't keep the thoughts away
Each action has a billion possible reations
And she thinks of them all

And then she focus' on the ones she doesn't like
She thinks until they are real
And then they won't leave, and it's all she can see
Regardless of reality

The boys she likes will never know
And those she doesn't will fall
Head over Heels
And she thinks its her fault

The friends she can't stand
Will keep inviting her to their plans
And she'll never say a word about how she feels
Because she can't

She can't because those thoughts got there first
And she sees herself alone and unwanted
She cannot see another possibibilty
She cannot see the truth

Auld Lange Syne

New Years, sweet, sweet New Years :) 2010 has flown past, I can't believe it. Such a significant year, and it's over. It's a hard concept to grasp. I remeber when we were younger, and summer break lasted forever and the days waiting for Christmas made you feel older. Each year goes by faster. Too fast. I keep expecting them to move slowly like they used too. I've heard it keeps going; flying by with more speed each year. I'm telling you, it's a weird, weird idea. A year, is not so long anymore, not as siginificant.

So heres the good stuff, my new years resolutions (on the spot):

1) Be Less Depressing-I promised Ainslie I would stop texting her all my woes and worries and so, I'm going to look on the brighter side.
2) Stop cracking my knuckles-it grosses people out, and isn't very lady like (says my grandmother)
3) Make New Friends-I love having new people in my life. So there.
4) Schoooool Work-gotta get into better habits...

Ahh that's enough :)

OH SIDE NOTE:
I was informed, by a reader, (Anne ;P) that my blogs are sad sounding. SO I would just like to point out that yes some of them are (because who has time to blog when they are having the time of their life) but most of the "sad" ones are just stating facts and I feel neutral about the subjects etc.
JUST THOUGHT YOU SHOULD KNOW