Sunday, 15 May 2011
09:46:16 PM (GMT)
There's this boy. His name's John. He always used to be shorter than me, but I think
he finally has an inch on me. He's got navy blue eyes and sort of short brown hair.
Super skinny, too.I've been insanely in love with him since fourth grade/end of
third. It was because of this dream. I was running, holding someone's hand. It just
happened to be his. And we were running from a monster. And the monster wanted a
sacrifice. So he threw himself down a black hole and I yelled after him, "I LOVE
YOU!!!". And ever since then, this boy has been 60% of what I think about almost
every day. It seriously is making me decay inside; because I know I can't have him.
He's single, but he just... I don't think he likes me. Period. Like, even as a
friend. I guess to him, I'm annoying and a stalker. There was this time. He was on
the bus with my friend and his friends were saying mean things about me such as,
"She's a boy." "She has a dick" and "she's a flirty stalker". When I found out, I
-You know, I used to think you were a pretty decent kid. Smart, funny... cute, too.
But now I know you're just another one of those assholes and a coward, too. Thanks.
~WTF are you talking about?
-Well apparently to you and Devin and Joe, I'm a stalker, a boy, and I have a dick.
~Nooooo that was all Devin and Joe. Me and Gabby were defending you.
-That's not what I heard. You were laughing at it, too.
~I mean it! Me and Gabby were the ones saying you were a good kid and you mean well.
You know I wouldn't say that.
-Okay, but your friends are still assholes. I'm sorry I said that. About you being
one of them. I was just disappointed that a great guy like you had to be so shitty.
Sorry. And thanks for defending me.
~It's okay. Gotta go. Watching the Bruins. Bye.
I still think he hates me, though.
However, in ski club he did talk to me a lot, and he was the one starting the
conversation. That made me really happy.
I wrote this suspense story for an ELA project and I based one of the characters off
of him. In the story, I, the main character, died for 20 minutes and when I came
back, he kissed me. Then again that night. And again the next day. The more I write
it, the more I wish it actually happened. Ugh.
Well, that be my rant. Sorry I'm dumping this on you, Diary.