Tuesday, 24 July 2012
08:38:42 AM (GMT)
This image is basically what I've been struggling with lately. I am everything I said
I'd never be. I said I'd never:
Smoke. Smoke Weed. (Do any kind of drug, actually). Drink before I was legal. Lose my
virginity young. Listen to metal. Skip school. Develop an eating disorder. Sneak out.
I'm everything I said I'd never be, and it scares the hell out of me. But... at the
same time... it's thrilling. I'm simultaneously the happiest and saddest I have ever
Happy because look at me... look at my friends, my list of experiences that's
growing, I had a boyfriend, I had sex and it wasn't terrible, I had my heart broken
by a boy that actually belonged to me and me to him. ...and he wasn't on the
Sad because I'm a waste of space. I'm not particularly interesting or funny or
daring. I don't "scorch the ground with my intensity", and I'm too annoying to be a
comet tail. All I do is follow people around and do what they think is cool. I have
no self control, or will. I can't even stop myself from eating (most of the time).
Although I've lost the little bit of pleasure I used to get from it. I'm sad because
the thing that was making me happiest is gone. I know it's bad to place your
happiness in a boy, but he was the thing that took me out of my dark place and showed
me the light. Not in a way that he showed me happiness, I'd found that a week prior,
but in a way that he showed me how to experience it in a way I never realized I'd
enjoy before that.
I really did fall in love with him.
Before I'd just fallen in love with the idea of guys. Zed, Kyle. I didn't love them.
I just loved the idea of them. And they were attractive. I loved their physical
appearance, and my fantasies about them.
But I loved Adriel. I know this because to be honest, I didn't find him the most
attractive person I'd ever known. I know this for a fact. I thought he was cute, in a
dorky way. But then I got to know him. I learned the lines of his face. I saw the
ghosts in his eyes, and the pain behind the smile. I fell in love with HIM. And in
turn, his appearance. Everything in his past: Every tear, every smile, every drunken
story, it's all there. It's all in his face, and in the scars that cover his arms.
I remember the night I realized I knew him. I think this is the night I fell in love
with him. You're going to think I'm ridiculous, but it was maybe four days after we'd
started going out.
I sneaked over to his house at 2am, and Brandon Anderson was there. He had alcohol.
Weed. Typical night. They were just getting back from retrieving furniture from his
mom's ex-husband's house. Stuff was everywhere. Adriel smiled when he saw me. I know
that, because he always smiled when he saw me. We drank, we smoked weed, we kissed
and giggled and acted goofy even though both Brandon and his mom were there.
But he'd popped an oxy earlier, he was sick, and then he drank, so he ended up puking
his guts out. I talked to Brandon for awhile downstairs, tripped on time, and didn't
really think too much of it for awhile. Eventually we all moved upstairs and Brandon
smoked another joint with Adriel's mom and I just sat there on the couch, staring
into space, and I thought.
I swear to God I did that for two hours. Three or four AM to around Five. I'm not
sure, though, because when I get high time sketches me out and doesn't make sense.
I questioned if I really wanted to be with someone who drank so much they puked (I
didn't know about the oxy or the fact he was sick), because that was just really not
classy. I questioned who I was becoming. I questioned things that I still haven't
answered, because I'm still just floating through my life.
But I did find one answer. I did want to be with him, because all the sudden I could
see behind his mask. I saw every time I'd been with him, every time he'd laughed,
every time he'd said he was fine. I saw through it all. I realized that no matter
what, I would fight for and with this broken boy. I realized I'd do anything for him,
and I didn't want anyone else (even though I'd finally felt I'd gotten through to
Brandon, and he was pretty attractive).
That's such a harsh word, eh? I use the word "broken", because broken can be fixed,
but it's a little more severe than "damaged" or "hurt".
I miss him.
Our relationship was fast paced, and every step of it was brilliant. It's not over. I
can feel that. And I always know when things are over, or when they're not.
Or maybe I'm just kidding myself.
I miss him. I miss him. I miss him. I miss him. I miss him. I miss him. I miss him. I
miss him. I miss him. I miss him. I miss him. I miss him. I miss him. I miss him. I
miss him. I love him.
We broke up because he told me he feels nothing. He does not care. About anything. He
wants to be done with everything, even though he can't be. He told me he still loves
me. He told me I'm amazing. This was the night we broke up, too. It felt emptier,
though. He'd attempted to get drunk, to maybe feel better. I think he'd just lost
hope when that hadn't worked because about an hour before he'd said it again, and it
felt more real. That was what gave me hope.
He said if he finds himself, once he finds himself, we'll probably get back together.
I'm okay, or I'm telling myself I'm okay, because I want what's best for him, and I
want him to be happy.
I feel so pathetic. I'm thinking about him constantly, except when I'm smoking or
calculating calories or distracting myself with pictures of belly button piercings or
changing my name to Lianna or fantasizing about being thin. It's taking everything to
hold myself together, to not cut.
I gave him my everything.
And I'm not done. I'm not going to lay down and die.
I'll be here.
Fighting for him.