Crushed.
I took the first step today. I went on Amazon.com and bought my own breakup book. After I was shunned from Caterina’s break up book because of obvious reasons, it seemed like the obvious thing to do. The rejection stung but nothing I can’t deal with.
After that, by some miracle, K and I got back together. Sort of. I don’t know. I was just really happy and relieved. I thought this was my chance to do things right. A chance to go the distance. Another chance at being close to this person. Our break up had made me feel horrid. Like a failure for not making this work. I guess we all feel that way after someone breaks up with you. But we were going to get together again. Life got a little less dreary and a little more sparkly. Like Edward Cullen. Then I heard my idol, Dita Von Teese, was on Twitter. I went to heaven and back. I was all a-squee.
Of course, the Gods couldn’t give me a day’s worth of peace. They couldn’t smile down on me long enough without the firm desire to crush me. As if the challenges they installed on me weren’t enough.
I’ve tried everything in my power to not hate my older sister. I’ve tried to feel sorry for someone who is in such denial of her innate feminineness. I’ve tried to forgive her for running out on our family and for being a catalyst for my mother’s hate towards me. Ok. Hate is too strong a word. Maybe what she feels is resentment? Whatever. If truth is pouring out of me I might as well say it. I was glad my sister is tomboy. She hid her gorgeous self under dirty rags and crooked ponytails. She hid her perfect God made breasts and overall bloody perfect body under raggedy jerseys. I had a fighting chance at getting guys. I had a fighting chance of not being labeled as the little frigid sister who wasn’t breathtakingly beautiful like her brother nor chiseled to perfection like her older sister.
I had to make due with what I had. I damaged and dark and twisty V, had to make it work. My time was spent on looking fashionable and looking impeccable so maybe I could pass off as stunning.
But even under these circumstances, she had managed to catch the attention of various men. Men who favored her more than me. Before you get your pitch forks o’ judgment, I have every right to complain. What’s the point of being considered ‘beautiful’ when you can’t keep ONE relationship alive long enough? I don’t want pity, just a place to deposit my worries. So… I thanked my lucky stars that none of those poor saps were men I actually liked.
Until now.
Without meaning to eavesdrop, I overheard a conversation. For once, I really wish I hadn’t. Wait. That makes me stupid. Ignorance is not bliss. It’s just ignorance.
K expressed curiosity and interest in my sister. My diamond in the rough, could be perfect, needs a little work, cushy, voluptuous sister. He likes her. She’s more his type. She’s sweeter. She’s more open. Her breasts are huge.
I’m crushed. I didn’t want to be. I am fucking broken hearted and I don’t want to leave my bed ever again. Life I fucking order you to stop for one day. What’s the point? I honestly want an audience with the Gods. I want to ask them what is the bloody fucking point of making me fall in love with someone like this?
He hasn’t done anything wrong yet. Hey, we’re all entitled to have crushes and shit but… why HER?
My self-esteem needs to go to the shop. It’s bloody everywhere.
I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how I’ll act. I make promises to myself that I break immediately. I don’t want this to matter. I don’t want to feel betrayed. I don’t want to add him to my list of men who destroyed me and thus I’ve never recovered. I wanted to remember what it felt like to be whole again. I wanted to piece myself together with him by my side. I didn’t feel the pressure to be perfect. I could let go, become someone else, I could breathe and be wacky. I could feel love without guilt or shame.
Now… I feel like a bloody experiment. What’s the point of this? What does he expect to get from me? Can I just give it to him so it can be over with?
God. Just typing that made me cry more. I didn’t want this. I didn’t want to snap into survival mode.
As it is, I am the worst person to ever roam this earth because… I can’t bring myself to forgive N. just yet. I can’t forgive him for teasing me. I can’t forgive him for making fun of me. I can’t forgive him for using my greatest insecurity as a comedy act. I gave up the love of my life for him. When we were broken up, I didn’t go around saying things about him. Naïve of me to expect the same. Not everyone is so stuck up, not everyone is as uptight as I am. I take everything seriously. He was a child and I can’t forgive him just yet. He can’t fix me now. I won’t let him. I don’t want to fix myself. But I love him. That’s what makes this worse. He’s into other people right now. I am not comfortable slipping into some waiting room.
Maybe this will help me. Maybe the good of this shit is that I’ll be able to look at him and let go of the baggage. I can say, mentally, I forgive you. I love you. You’re human. I’ll overlook the fact that I need to share him. I’ll overlook the fact that he is about to meet his biggest crush and they’ll probably hit it off. I’ll forgive him for making me slip back into the knowledge that I am second best.
Ok. I am being unfair.
Why…
Why…
I keep forgetting what I want to say here. Right. The whole K thing has hurt me the most because… I just expected to be special a little while longer. I am not perfect. I am very thin. My breasts are 32A. I don’t want implants because I am scared they won’t feel natural. I suffer from temper tantrums. I’ve barely survived five break ups. I drink when I’m upset. I hardly have friends because I am difficult to get along with. I hate Lucia because she copies me to a T EVEN IN MY INSECURITIES. I hate Ashley because she’s a bitch that stole my brother from me, kisses N whenever she feels like it and because she thinks she’s the shit when she’s not. I hate Caterina for being best friends with Ashley. I hate myself for hating them and for doing what I did.
If I am not build to love, why do I fall in it’s spell with the greatest of ease? I’m dancing my way to my death at this rate. So… all I am saying is that I am really glad I ordered that book with express delivery. I need help.
I feel... relieved right now. Maybe it’s the fact that it’s 6 am. My soul feels quieter. I guess it’s fine with being yet another notch in his bedpost.
After that, by some miracle, K and I got back together. Sort of. I don’t know. I was just really happy and relieved. I thought this was my chance to do things right. A chance to go the distance. Another chance at being close to this person. Our break up had made me feel horrid. Like a failure for not making this work. I guess we all feel that way after someone breaks up with you. But we were going to get together again. Life got a little less dreary and a little more sparkly. Like Edward Cullen. Then I heard my idol, Dita Von Teese, was on Twitter. I went to heaven and back. I was all a-squee.
Of course, the Gods couldn’t give me a day’s worth of peace. They couldn’t smile down on me long enough without the firm desire to crush me. As if the challenges they installed on me weren’t enough.
I’ve tried everything in my power to not hate my older sister. I’ve tried to feel sorry for someone who is in such denial of her innate feminineness. I’ve tried to forgive her for running out on our family and for being a catalyst for my mother’s hate towards me. Ok. Hate is too strong a word. Maybe what she feels is resentment? Whatever. If truth is pouring out of me I might as well say it. I was glad my sister is tomboy. She hid her gorgeous self under dirty rags and crooked ponytails. She hid her perfect God made breasts and overall bloody perfect body under raggedy jerseys. I had a fighting chance at getting guys. I had a fighting chance of not being labeled as the little frigid sister who wasn’t breathtakingly beautiful like her brother nor chiseled to perfection like her older sister.
I had to make due with what I had. I damaged and dark and twisty V, had to make it work. My time was spent on looking fashionable and looking impeccable so maybe I could pass off as stunning.
But even under these circumstances, she had managed to catch the attention of various men. Men who favored her more than me. Before you get your pitch forks o’ judgment, I have every right to complain. What’s the point of being considered ‘beautiful’ when you can’t keep ONE relationship alive long enough? I don’t want pity, just a place to deposit my worries. So… I thanked my lucky stars that none of those poor saps were men I actually liked.
Until now.
Without meaning to eavesdrop, I overheard a conversation. For once, I really wish I hadn’t. Wait. That makes me stupid. Ignorance is not bliss. It’s just ignorance.
K expressed curiosity and interest in my sister. My diamond in the rough, could be perfect, needs a little work, cushy, voluptuous sister. He likes her. She’s more his type. She’s sweeter. She’s more open. Her breasts are huge.
I’m crushed. I didn’t want to be. I am fucking broken hearted and I don’t want to leave my bed ever again. Life I fucking order you to stop for one day. What’s the point? I honestly want an audience with the Gods. I want to ask them what is the bloody fucking point of making me fall in love with someone like this?
He hasn’t done anything wrong yet. Hey, we’re all entitled to have crushes and shit but… why HER?
My self-esteem needs to go to the shop. It’s bloody everywhere.
I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how I’ll act. I make promises to myself that I break immediately. I don’t want this to matter. I don’t want to feel betrayed. I don’t want to add him to my list of men who destroyed me and thus I’ve never recovered. I wanted to remember what it felt like to be whole again. I wanted to piece myself together with him by my side. I didn’t feel the pressure to be perfect. I could let go, become someone else, I could breathe and be wacky. I could feel love without guilt or shame.
Now… I feel like a bloody experiment. What’s the point of this? What does he expect to get from me? Can I just give it to him so it can be over with?
God. Just typing that made me cry more. I didn’t want this. I didn’t want to snap into survival mode.
As it is, I am the worst person to ever roam this earth because… I can’t bring myself to forgive N. just yet. I can’t forgive him for teasing me. I can’t forgive him for making fun of me. I can’t forgive him for using my greatest insecurity as a comedy act. I gave up the love of my life for him. When we were broken up, I didn’t go around saying things about him. Naïve of me to expect the same. Not everyone is so stuck up, not everyone is as uptight as I am. I take everything seriously. He was a child and I can’t forgive him just yet. He can’t fix me now. I won’t let him. I don’t want to fix myself. But I love him. That’s what makes this worse. He’s into other people right now. I am not comfortable slipping into some waiting room.
Maybe this will help me. Maybe the good of this shit is that I’ll be able to look at him and let go of the baggage. I can say, mentally, I forgive you. I love you. You’re human. I’ll overlook the fact that I need to share him. I’ll overlook the fact that he is about to meet his biggest crush and they’ll probably hit it off. I’ll forgive him for making me slip back into the knowledge that I am second best.
Ok. I am being unfair.
Why…
Why…
I keep forgetting what I want to say here. Right. The whole K thing has hurt me the most because… I just expected to be special a little while longer. I am not perfect. I am very thin. My breasts are 32A. I don’t want implants because I am scared they won’t feel natural. I suffer from temper tantrums. I’ve barely survived five break ups. I drink when I’m upset. I hardly have friends because I am difficult to get along with. I hate Lucia because she copies me to a T EVEN IN MY INSECURITIES. I hate Ashley because she’s a bitch that stole my brother from me, kisses N whenever she feels like it and because she thinks she’s the shit when she’s not. I hate Caterina for being best friends with Ashley. I hate myself for hating them and for doing what I did.
If I am not build to love, why do I fall in it’s spell with the greatest of ease? I’m dancing my way to my death at this rate. So… all I am saying is that I am really glad I ordered that book with express delivery. I need help.
I feel... relieved right now. Maybe it’s the fact that it’s 6 am. My soul feels quieter. I guess it’s fine with being yet another notch in his bedpost.
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