Haha....cheat with Nia. Date Nia?
Personally, I just think it's pathetic that she's so dumb as to want to date someone whose screwed over every person she's ever been with.
Oh well with the way things are going right now, after she gets her little dyke heart broken, she'll realize that she doesn't have any friends left to pick up the pieces.
I wonder if Jen knows you cheated on her for weeks. I told Emily to tell her while she was here (It's better that it comes from a friend, but she didn't get a chance to.)....but it would be even sweeter if she dumped your ass just because.
=]


By the way, it's mine and Catherine's 1 year in a month...
You made me a better person. Too bad your whorish qualities only have gotten worse.

I HATE that I miss you at times.

A lot of girls get crushes on me when they first meet me. It's why I've had so many girlfriends. I know I have addictive personality to begin but...
It wears off.
That's why even though I've had a lot of girlfriends...almost all of them have dumped me.
So it goes...

I have no plan and I have no reason.
I've never felt quite so inadequate.
I need new. I need exciting. I need adventure.
I feel as if my wings have been clipped.

I feel the good in the situation. It doesn't stop my palms from itching, however.
Motivation and mastering fate keep me going....
Maybe one day, I'll matter.

I hate my family. What else is new? My own brother deleted me from his facebook friends. Typical.
I mean who would really expect maturity out of a 36 year old? It's really too much to ask.

I just need new. If I have new, then everything will work itself out.
New me. New home. New friends. New beliefs. New thoughts. New actions.

That old feeling wouldn't be so bad either. I miss the world (my world) at my fingertips.

It's 6 in the morning and a New day.
That's a start.

I dreamt that Catherine as well as my dad died.

I was completely torn up about Catherine, but I had very little feeling concerning my dad. Mostly the feeling I had derived from the sudden change it would have over my life.

I woke up in my dream and discovered Catherine dying had been a dream, but my dad was really gone. I felt even less.

I really woke up and saw my father in the living room. I was slightly surprised that he was really there, but I don't really think I was happy about it...at all.

I don't understand what they mean. Where they came from, but usually they're rather easy to interpret. Not this time.

I'm still so very tired.

It's still bothering me.

I wish I had someone to talk to about it.

I wish I could talk to HER about it.

So it goes...

Catherine and I are on a break until I can get my life back in order. I'm in no position to be in a relationship with anyone when I can only focus on my problems right now.

Here's to us being back together soon provided all my problems reach some kind of resolution.

I've been sitting in front of my computer staring blankly at a blinking cursor bidding me to enter "What's on my mind."
Truly, people don't care what's on your mind. They just care that they can relate to it in some way. I wonder if someone could relate to what I'm feeling right now, though it's not worth making people uncomfortable with my thoughts to find out.

I wish I knew what having a family felt like. I've romanced the image thoroughly in my head and even though I know this isn't what a typical family is like. I know that that image of a family is closer to what I've had to call this pathetic substitute.
The Shavers family is the most selfish group of individuals I have ever come across. They care nothing about each other and its safe to say if 3 of my brothers up and died tomorrow that I wouldn't shed a tear. It would be as if 3 similar looking strangers passed on. It's funny. People ask me what it's like having so many siblings and I tell them that because their so much older "It's like being an only child". In fact, it's not only because their older. It's because they just don't care about anybody else, but themselves and what's going on in their lives. The first time I've spoken to my oldest brother in years was by me calling him.

My mom has been put into incredible amounts of debt by helping my brothers, yet have they once offered to help her leave my father whom they equally can't stand? Have they even offered to help move? Of course not. It probably interferes with their previous affairs. Oh, and those are the brothers I actually have a semblance of feelings for. They all (excluding Jake) still treat me like a child as if I were still young and impressionable as if I were not truly aware of the situation that is my parents separation. It's incredible how conceited they can be. They know NOTHING of what goes on in this house, yet they presume to know so much.

I'd like to ask them whose had to live with Him the longest, not only considering the length of time they lived in his house, but in his presence. Furthermore, whose lived in his presence without the relief of sibling understanding with no one to talk to about mine as well as my parents problems. Would they even consider anything i would tell them. It's doubtful considering how much they even care about me. I'm just as much a stranger to them as they are to me and they've shown no interest in trying to know me. They never call. They never write. I would like to know how many times I truly cross their mind in a years time.

No one could accuse me of not being an exceedingly open person. Yet, they would never know that. Maybe that's why I need relationships so badly. I need someone who knows me and who can listen. Someone that can be more my family than the other nominal members. I've wondered how I've survived so long and managed to be a contributing member of society. I wonder how much more successful I could have been with a true support system.

In a some ways, I'm still like a child begging for attention. I'm still in that "Watch me!" stage of childhood. I still ask mom to watch me do things; I still need affirmation & praise. I ask my girlfriends to do the same.

Brant is coming down here Thursday. Who knows what for? He doesn't talk to dad in years and then he's all ready to be in family problems that have nothing to do with him or that he's never cared about.

Whatever. I just wish school would start.

I believe I may have been in love once. I mean that's not entirely accurate. What I mean to say is that I believe I may have been in love at one time, but did not realize it. In fact, this love may have been so subtle that I had forgotten that it could have existed until May 2009. Actually, it is just now that I am acknowledging that such a feeling may have existed. It's all vague and unsure, but as is much of my life.

Victoria.

It was always there....I mean it was for lengthy amount of time at least. We never glanced at it; our eyes always averted at the mere mention. Everyone saw it clear as day, except for us. We managed to handicap ourselves in every way possible to avoid it. I wonder if she thinks of me? She's been dating him for 2 years now. Has it really been that long? I find her on my mind at the most inopportune moments, especially as of late. I've seen her twice now, since I've been home...each time more awkward than the first. I'm never that awkward even with my exes. So, how am I that pathetic around someone I never even dated.

It may haunt me a little. The images of what could have been if for once I hadn't been so hesitant with my feelings. We were SO close. Why would anyone, save a girlfriend, drive to your house at 8 a.m. to say goodbye as you depart for college? Who would cry in the middle of the night before upon the realization that you were really leaving? And why would that same person with a boyfriend, whom she had already during the latter, abruptly cease contact with you after a few months?

Why does it hurt me so much? Make me cry when I think about it? Like I said...my exes don't raise the same emotions she does. I don't know what it means. She was always unattainable. Neither of us were ever single at the same time. I think he was an easy way out, more than he was an actual option. Does she really love him that much or is she running? Am I running? I don't even know where she plans on going to college. I don't know if it's far away. I don't know if I'll ever see her again after this summer.

She's changed a lot since those days. People say she's changed toward them as well, but I never thought she'd change towards me. I gave her a hoodie before I left for college. I needed her to have something from me. Originally, when I was going to go to DePaul and I would talk about how scared I was, she would give me ideas of comfort. Crazy little what ifs that were designed more to make me feel better than to be turned into reality (Each of us in a Barnes & Noble states away, but still on the phone with one another...still having our typical cafe conversations).

I kissed her once...and only once. She said she needed practice (and no we weren't 10) and that she was afraid she wasn't any good. We both knew that it was a flimsy excuse at best. It's hard to convey how much we wanted it and maybe it showed in its poor execution. I still wanted more though, but I didn't dare. We never talked about it again. It was pushed to the back with everything else left unsaid.

What if it wasn't love? What if I only cry over an opportunity lost? Am i really that shallow? I've lost more than her as an opportunity though, I lost one of my very best friends (save the sexual tension). You know...she never really wrote in my yearbook. She only wrote an old nickname she had for me...nothing sappy or sentimental. I think she was scared to. I hope she was scared to. I never knew I had this much to say about it, but it's been torturing my sub-conscious since summer began. Every time I'm reminded of her and every time someone says her name. It disorients me. I wish she would talk to me. Tell me what she was thinking the day she stopped answering my calls when I came into town. Who was it for: Max, her, or me? I need to know so badly.

Kunal invited me to come with him to her Springer play. I think he knows and understands to a degree. He and Vicki were/are close, while I remain a past tense. I'm going to go without shame in using any excuse to see her. It placates me for a time. I really do need closure from her as a friend if nothing more. If I get the chance to talk to her, I'm positive I won't know what to say. How could I properly express the frustration I feel with the awkwardness that now permeates our conversation. I need that conversation, though. For even with my frustration at our clumsy manner, it grants me a sense of satisfaction that there was something there from which this manner evolved.
 
I want devolve for a time, for a second, just to see if what we had was true.

I don't like it...
Since college, more than ever,
I like having multiple options, so I can weigh them...choose the best one.
Relationships, regretfully, can't work like that.
They have to be tested individually and if you choose to move on to the next one, you might lose the previous forever.
Catherine is probably THE ONE. Yet, I don't know for sure.
I'll never truly know for sure...unless I try out other people.
I don't want to lose her though...

I never want to lose her.

It's time to grow up and stop being selfish...if I want her. I have to keep her..

And I will.
She really is the greatest person I've ever met. I'd be a fool to ever give her up.

I'm in love with her.

Completely & unabashedly in love.

And oh so terrified.

I'm happy.

That's all that matters.

I'm done with people that don't know what they want.

I'm done with people that don't care about anything even themselves.

I'm done with wanting what I always somehow can't have.

I'm done loving.

I'm done with wanting to be loved.

I'm done with being 1/2 of a whole.

I'm done.



Finished.

I was looking through some drawers and found this folded paper partially torn and obviously something I had written during a harder time, since that's the only time I write anything. I read it and decided to type it up. I don't remember writing it AT ALL, but I find my overemotional stereotypical teenage self hilarious at times. I have too many feelings.

Security is an impossible achievement. Doubt is the basis of life. It's absolute, but without.

What could she see in me? It's all I can think every time I see her and every time I look into a mirror. I feel inadequate and my faults begin to reach the surface. I don't want to compare, but I can't help it. Everything  about her is so perfect. her smile and voice, she's so beautiful...I doubt reality. I wonder why she hasn't  realized that she's too good for me. Then I stop, check my emotions, and pray for that thought to escape her grasp. I know I need her.

She fills up a part of me that was always missing. I feel whole and without her I doubt I can obtain that feeling again. But deep down, pulling at the edge of my consciousness , I realize she's going to leave me. It's too amazing to last. I'll be her first girl and her last, because soon she'll see the faults that has been beyond her sight, but always within my vision. She'll want a boy. Something out of my power to give her and slowly kills me everyday.

I want to make her happy, but more than ANYTHING I want her to BE happy. i want her to want me, but if I hurt her in any way I could never forgive myself. She chose me, but I can't accept it. Accept that perfection would settle for anything as mediocre as me. She should have more and I want her to have more. This sounds like I want to break up, but I have a less selfess view than that. I want her to lower herself, so I can feel more deserving. And I know this is selfish, but it's more stupid than anything. I know that if this were ever to happen I wouldn't love her as much. She would have changed the person I love. So, the only reasonable answer is for me to change, but there's still a risk in that. If I change too much, she might not love me anymore and that would defeat the purpose.

This is entirely too confusing. She says I think too much and I think she's right. I over think, over analyze, and pick apart relationships until there's nothing left. This is where the weakness lies. If I can somehow  manage not to care as much, then all my problems will be solved. But this is always easier said than done. One cannot help being themselves. It's natural for me to look too far into things, overinterpret every word, action, and situation. I drag myself farther and farther down until it's impossible to pull myself out without lies and insecurities taking control.

In conclusion, only one statement exemplifies what I have come to in my knowledge about love:

Love is the epitome of life and the predecessor of death.

I'm a dyke.
I'm hard.
My emotions are hidden and rarely show.
I have sex...
With every girl I take an interest in.
They're just another conquest.
I could easily cast them aside.
I do.

In my eyes...

I'm a girl.
I have feelings of which I am sometimes thoroughly subject to.
I have a heart.
It craves attention on a constant basis.
I can have sex...
With a girl l love or a girl I could grow to love.
I always want them near me.
They're never near enough.

They want what they see, not who I am.

Who I am is weak.
I want to be strong.

No one wants a girl.

Let's see,

Go angrily confront ex-girlfriend while emotionally off balance...

Get stoned with her...

Kiss her.

Call new girlfriend, still stoned, at 4:30 A.M., while she's knee-deep in an all-nighter...

Tell her of the aforementioned...

Piss her off.

Go to sleep...

Wake up...

"Oh fuck."

All it takes is one night.

That game you're playing right now?

I'm not a participant.

Word of advice though....

Get over yourself before you end up alone.




On a lighter note, she makes me happy. I don't know what I did right, but I'm going to try to keep it up whatever it is...oh Wesleyan.

Things are going REALLY well...

I got a drawer and I love my big sister. Her roommate isn't so bad either. ;)

When I look at you, I'm distracted. Everything hits, I struggle for censorship, and I end up with this.

I know more than I should.

You think about more than you should.

We pretend to know each others actions.

It's a sense of security.

When there's so much to be insecure about.

Dependency...it's still there in an awkward sense.

You and I are so different than before, but there are some constants.

Constants are safe.

You're safe. I'm safe. We've always been safe.

Then why does everything feel so dangerous?

"We" feels too personal. I think You and I should not be combined even into a simple pronoun, not now.

But I think I'll keep it that way, anyway.

I want to feel passion.

Release me.

Fuck Logic.

Fuck Reason.

And so it goes....

I'll die by sword for you.