April 4th, 2005


(no subject)

you make me sound so much worse than i am. if i am so horrible, so needy and clingy and imperfect, find someone else. but if you want me like you claim, you need to accept that i am all those things at times and not judge me for them, and moreover find it in your heart on nights like tonight to put yourself out for me. i should've just come home but instead i sought comfort with you and got only grief and more heartache. isn't there anyone out there who can just love me?

Circles would have to mean we're actually moving.

Dear The Boy,

How long has it been? Oh, only three months. Three months. And we're still here. My friend who gets no benefits. Yes. No. What do I want? This. I don't need more. It's the world that tells me I need more than this. That that's what I'm supposed to do, what we're supposed to be. Maybe that's it. But not listening to what everyone else says means it's up to me. Fadsghjdsklalk. Honestly, this wouldn't bother me as much if it wasn't brought up so much. Never between us, though. Always with other people. Of course. Maybe that's it, too. Has our moment has already passed? Then that's probably it, too.

We haven't changed. It's how everyone sees us that has.

Still yours,

Dear The Best Friend,

Yes, I know you want the best for me. Yes, I know you care. Yes, you think I deserve better. Yes, I know you love me.

Yes, Prom is coming up. Yes, a date would be nice. Yes, there is a new boy in your class. Yes, he does sound nice. Yes, I'm sure he's cute, too. Yes, I'll meet him. Yes, I'll talk to him.

Oh, but MINOR DETAIL. The boy and I are still. Whatever we are.

Gun Sex

(no subject)

Dearest Darling Katie Baby,
I love you so much. I miss you. I can't wait until you come up here in June. Anyway I wanted to apologize because you're stuck with me for life as it is now. I'm sorry about that I never intended for it to happen but it did and there's nothing I can do about it.
I love you,

Dear you,
Why must you always make me feel like I want to fade away? I fucking hate you. Too bad I can't do anything about it.
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(no subject)

dear friend,
I'd like to start by just saying, I'm sorry. I'm sorry for knowing the things I do, and the way in which I found them out. You'd probably be furious if you knew. In fact, I know you'd be furious, I've seen that kind of anger from you. But that's not the point, not right now anyway. The fact is, I know, and once we both get over that, we can start to move to the real issue. So what is the real issue? Yeah, I'd like to know that too. You're my best friend. My fucking best friend. But that doesn't mean much to you. I'm basing this on the fact that you so clearly don't trust me. Why can't you trust me?? I come to you with everything. You know me better than anyone. So. . .why??????? AHHH. Honestly it makes me want to scream.
I just asked you. You said you didn't want to say. Cool. I started writing this with the intention of wanting to know, of wanting to be a part of your life. FUCK THAT. I'm done with your pity parties, your criticism, your perfectionism, your superiority complex. I'm done with it all. If you don't want me to be a part of your life, it's as easy as that. If I had things to pack up, I would. But I don't. So you'll have to find closure somewhere else.

I'll see you tomorrow. I won't be saying hello, that's my only goodbye.

(no subject)

Dear Mom,

You see, I value your opinion the most, and that's the truth of it. Even when, in my heart of hearts, I know that you're wrong, there's something in me that reacts to whatever you say. My heart is a barometer for your affections.

You see, I'm a strange sort of creature that lives and thrives on praise, though I hide behind my mask of humility and modesty. But inside I relish each comment, each compliment, anything anyone says about me. But here's the thing - no matter what someone tells me, even if the whole world thought I was amazing, I'd still be a failure if you thought I was one. Whatever you say I take to heart.

And now I feel as if you've lost faith in me, and you no longer encourage me. You see, if you encourage me, I'll be inspired to new heights. I'll want to do more for any taste of a compliment from you. But when you shoot me down like this, I can't help feeling that nothing I do will ever be good enough for you.

I drew. I drew a series of beautiful drawings that I felt were amazing. I wanted to show them to everybody, to Jess, to Dora, all those artsy friends that I have. But most of all I wanted to show them to you, and to see your eyes light up when you see that I've created something you think is good.

But I showed them to you, and you didn't say a word. Not one. You were pretty angry with me for one thing or another, that's true, but I felt so hurt. I knew they were good. I have an eye, I can judge my own art. But I lost all faith in it because, all of a sudden, you didn't seem to care. And that's just one example.

It's not like I'm in a normal house where I can run to Dad and show him, or I can get a second opinion. He lives in Maryland. He's not connected to my life very well, all he gets is the Sparknotes version. it's just you and me, Mom, and I wish you would have a little more faith in me. Because I love you so, and I need your appreciation more than anything else in the world. I want you to be proud of me. Just you. No one else in the world could love me but if you thought that I was great, I'd feel great. I would have to face reality sometimes, of course, but I'd feel good about it because I know you'd always love me unconditionally. And, for some reason, love and compliments are so twisted together in my mind, they are inseparable.

You see, it's backwards. Right now. Everyone else loves me but you, and I feel so empty.
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