It isn't that you don't see eye to eye, its that your eyes are closed. You can't see when you are blinded by judgement. I never quite got that saying. I always saw it as one person being taller than the other...but thats not it at all. I go through it everyday. I am blinded by my judgement and see everyone as foolish words. It isn't that at all. I need to remove this judgement from my life, for then I will see.
Ty was a piece of work.
He'd leave bruises on my body and love bites all over me...goodness the way the boy made me feel. I was on a drug and it was called Ty. Except...Ty was really on drugs and his slurred words brought me back to reality. His shoves to make me lie on my back were weak. He wanted to just rip my clothes off.
Ty needed help, we all knew it.
His home life was shit and all he wanted was to be loved and to fit in. I pitied him more than anything. His dad acted as if he was a step father and his mother's heart of gold turned to stone when she found her priceless jewelry missing. (Ty stole it to feed the addiction) He promised me the world though, and I only fed on the lie.
Claire(noun)- Blood sucking leech who couldn't help but stick her slimy fingers into the pants of who I loved.
Claire had been jumping from A to Ty on the opposite times that I was on either of them.
I couldn't take the slurred "I love you" or "Marry me" anymore. I was free. Heartbroken, but free.
But A couldn't just leave me alone...He met my eyes one day in the hall and hit me with that straight toothed smile that always made me ache...so I texted him.
Soon enough I found myself lying to my mom and spending the night with another couple at A's house. In his room we were alone while our friends were "showering"..
A convinced me to give myself to him.
It ruined my whole world.
Thursday, February 20, 2014
Saturday, February 15, 2014
A&Ty Pt. I
The first love is the one you'll remember forever right? What if I had two first loves? Both sweet and poisonous. Both running through my blood stream like cocaine. It was like something I had never felt before. Each love was different, whole and warm.
When it came to A, life was easy. He loved me.
We spent countless hours together in my basement, playing games and rolling around on the carpet. The air was lighter with him. I could finally breathe again. The slicing of my skin had suddenly stopped and I was strong again. School was a breeze and I had a sweet friend, Ty who let me sit with him and his friends at lunch.
I was a freshman, with a sophomore boyfriend sitting with upper-classmen boys at lunch..I was living every girls dream. A and I were that power couple. We were invincible. We kissed and the room would freeze. Nobody was there except him and I. Everyone loved us. WE WERE UNSTOPPABLE.
But the honeymoon faze soon began to wear off. A and I stopped seeing eye to eye, but I was addicted to him. I couldn't be without him and I would confess it all to Ty...
Oh sweet Ty..dying inside only because I couldn't love him like I loved A..but there was something about Ty that I couldn't help but love.
Moe hated me. I knew it, I felt it, and I saw it everyday in the halls when our eyes wouldn't meet, or when I received nasty prank calls in the middle of the night. It wasn't something I could help. I had lost my best friend.
But then one day she reconsidered. We slowly began to joke in a class we shared, Art. It was nice to hear her laugh again and to hear my own for that matter. One day she had said something about A that really upset him, and he rushed to her locker after he heard, shoved her to the side, and made her use her words. She was petrified. His strength and persistence frightened her. He soon came to me at my locker and resumed an average day of walking me to Art class. Once fixed in my seat, I waited for Moe. She came in hysterical...crying and mumbling words. "A...pushed me" was what I made out the most of her jumbled words. I hugged her tight and whispered "I'll be right back."
I hit the threshold and started running. I knew that I was on the right floor of the school, it was a matter of beating the tardy crowd to A..Ty snatches my arm as I am running. He looks concerned even considering his state of mind (high). I couldn't talk...I had to find A.
When it came to A, life was easy. He loved me.
We spent countless hours together in my basement, playing games and rolling around on the carpet. The air was lighter with him. I could finally breathe again. The slicing of my skin had suddenly stopped and I was strong again. School was a breeze and I had a sweet friend, Ty who let me sit with him and his friends at lunch.
I was a freshman, with a sophomore boyfriend sitting with upper-classmen boys at lunch..I was living every girls dream. A and I were that power couple. We were invincible. We kissed and the room would freeze. Nobody was there except him and I. Everyone loved us. WE WERE UNSTOPPABLE.
But the honeymoon faze soon began to wear off. A and I stopped seeing eye to eye, but I was addicted to him. I couldn't be without him and I would confess it all to Ty...
Oh sweet Ty..dying inside only because I couldn't love him like I loved A..but there was something about Ty that I couldn't help but love.
Moe hated me. I knew it, I felt it, and I saw it everyday in the halls when our eyes wouldn't meet, or when I received nasty prank calls in the middle of the night. It wasn't something I could help. I had lost my best friend.
But then one day she reconsidered. We slowly began to joke in a class we shared, Art. It was nice to hear her laugh again and to hear my own for that matter. One day she had said something about A that really upset him, and he rushed to her locker after he heard, shoved her to the side, and made her use her words. She was petrified. His strength and persistence frightened her. He soon came to me at my locker and resumed an average day of walking me to Art class. Once fixed in my seat, I waited for Moe. She came in hysterical...crying and mumbling words. "A...pushed me" was what I made out the most of her jumbled words. I hugged her tight and whispered "I'll be right back."
I hit the threshold and started running. I knew that I was on the right floor of the school, it was a matter of beating the tardy crowd to A..Ty snatches my arm as I am running. He looks concerned even considering his state of mind (high). I couldn't talk...I had to find A.
Monday, February 10, 2014
Uneasy
Regularity is something that people look for to find comfort. Change makes us uneasy...and if you don't feel that way then there is something wrong with you. I look for the familiar things to feel better, I guess that's just something that I find comforting.
Things started to pick up with Moe and I. I loved her to death and we bonded better than sisters. I couldn't function without her. We were like poison for each other. We fed off of each others negativity and soon began to take it to new extremes. I broke a frame in my bedroom one summer we spent together. The shattered glass was intriguing, I couldn't help myself. The way the cool glass felt against my skin was dangerous and comforting. I couldn't help but press the sharp edge deeper into my skin once I had it. Moe came over soon and I showed her the wonderful relief brought on by the glass. It was nothing we had ever felt before.
It started with glass...just on our palms. Soon it wasn't enough. My mom got the frame fixed and we needed something new. Moe soon found a abandoned box cutter in her garage, which made me furious. Her new source was drawing more pain and I just couldn't help but be envious. Then I realized something.
One morning I found that my straightener's burning on my finger gave me the same relief. I began holding the straightener to my skin. By this time it was late April and short sleeves were keeping us from overheating. The scars were getting harder to hide. Mom and dad soon noticed and made me come clean about my outlet of self harm. Moe was caught as well and our parents put our friendship on hold.
But that didn't stop us.
The self harming got worse and my parents soon found my scars again in December of 8th grade. Counseling made me sick. I couldn't tell this old women about my life. She couldn't even begin to understand the issues concerning a drug addicted boyfriend who only said "i love you" when high or the fact that I was completely disgusted with who I was because Moe was beautiful....
But then it hit me in the car ride home from that terrible place...I didn't need this outlet. I had my words and my actions. I had the whole world ahead of me...or high school.
Moe and I drifted the summer following 8th. I stumbled upon one of her old loves..he was tall thin and everything I have ever wanted. Oh and believe me...he wasn't so hard to get my hands on.
Things started to pick up with Moe and I. I loved her to death and we bonded better than sisters. I couldn't function without her. We were like poison for each other. We fed off of each others negativity and soon began to take it to new extremes. I broke a frame in my bedroom one summer we spent together. The shattered glass was intriguing, I couldn't help myself. The way the cool glass felt against my skin was dangerous and comforting. I couldn't help but press the sharp edge deeper into my skin once I had it. Moe came over soon and I showed her the wonderful relief brought on by the glass. It was nothing we had ever felt before.
It started with glass...just on our palms. Soon it wasn't enough. My mom got the frame fixed and we needed something new. Moe soon found a abandoned box cutter in her garage, which made me furious. Her new source was drawing more pain and I just couldn't help but be envious. Then I realized something.
One morning I found that my straightener's burning on my finger gave me the same relief. I began holding the straightener to my skin. By this time it was late April and short sleeves were keeping us from overheating. The scars were getting harder to hide. Mom and dad soon noticed and made me come clean about my outlet of self harm. Moe was caught as well and our parents put our friendship on hold.
But that didn't stop us.
The self harming got worse and my parents soon found my scars again in December of 8th grade. Counseling made me sick. I couldn't tell this old women about my life. She couldn't even begin to understand the issues concerning a drug addicted boyfriend who only said "i love you" when high or the fact that I was completely disgusted with who I was because Moe was beautiful....
But then it hit me in the car ride home from that terrible place...I didn't need this outlet. I had my words and my actions. I had the whole world ahead of me...or high school.
Moe and I drifted the summer following 8th. I stumbled upon one of her old loves..he was tall thin and everything I have ever wanted. Oh and believe me...he wasn't so hard to get my hands on.
Friday, February 7, 2014
Stormy Weather
If rain is the sky crying, then on a cloudy day is the world depressed? Showing its emotion with the gray in the sky? I like to think of it that way. Its not sure if it wants to let it all out with rain, and sure as hell wont open up for the sun...and sometimes I feel that is exactly how I am. Depressed and not sure how to move on from it.
Sure 6th grade wasn't terrible. I learned how to line my eyes with a black pencil, and that my favorite music had a lot of powerful anger. I learned that sex wasn't just kissing with tongue and that the girl that sat next to me in geography definitely had a thing for girls. I was confused but in all the same fully aware of how the next couple of years would work...or so I thought.
Moving to Illinois really took a toll on me. I just wasn't much for making friends. The first day of school I wore my new Nirvana shirt (I had no idea what Nirvana even meant) and really just kept to myself. The really tall girl in a mustard yellow shirt diagonally behind me on my right had such an annoying voice I thought I was going to end my life and it was only homeroom. As they were showing us to our new lockers, the girl in the mustard shirt and her friend approached me. Kindly offereing their friendship by making fun of how our homeroom teacher was so much shorter than us. It was easier than I thought. The girl in the mustard shirt was Moe and she instantly became my best friend. We were in a group of three..not the girl from the locker assignments but a girl we called Mik. Mik came from a very different home life. Her step father, Ed, was very verbally abusive and only made Mik's life a living hell..I felt for Mik. She had moved all the way from Texas with her mother who once was her hero and now her enemy. She soon drifted from Moe and I though. Becoming her own person. I can't say we were sad to see her go...
I still was living in Illinois when my family moved into our more permanent home. I became much darker..mostly black clothing with thicker liner only to distance myself from more and more people. Honestly, I didn't care. I had Moe and that's all I needed really. We dated within our circle. Being the only two girls it wasn't much of a fight for the cutest ones. All of them druggies who smoked pot before school making Moe and I envious and annoyed (mostly annoyed) with their attitudes towards everything being "i don't care" or "do you have $20?"
Moe and I were inseparable..and toxic. We were the rain clouds overhead...and we were brewing up a storm.
Sure 6th grade wasn't terrible. I learned how to line my eyes with a black pencil, and that my favorite music had a lot of powerful anger. I learned that sex wasn't just kissing with tongue and that the girl that sat next to me in geography definitely had a thing for girls. I was confused but in all the same fully aware of how the next couple of years would work...or so I thought.
Moving to Illinois really took a toll on me. I just wasn't much for making friends. The first day of school I wore my new Nirvana shirt (I had no idea what Nirvana even meant) and really just kept to myself. The really tall girl in a mustard yellow shirt diagonally behind me on my right had such an annoying voice I thought I was going to end my life and it was only homeroom. As they were showing us to our new lockers, the girl in the mustard shirt and her friend approached me. Kindly offereing their friendship by making fun of how our homeroom teacher was so much shorter than us. It was easier than I thought. The girl in the mustard shirt was Moe and she instantly became my best friend. We were in a group of three..not the girl from the locker assignments but a girl we called Mik. Mik came from a very different home life. Her step father, Ed, was very verbally abusive and only made Mik's life a living hell..I felt for Mik. She had moved all the way from Texas with her mother who once was her hero and now her enemy. She soon drifted from Moe and I though. Becoming her own person. I can't say we were sad to see her go...
I still was living in Illinois when my family moved into our more permanent home. I became much darker..mostly black clothing with thicker liner only to distance myself from more and more people. Honestly, I didn't care. I had Moe and that's all I needed really. We dated within our circle. Being the only two girls it wasn't much of a fight for the cutest ones. All of them druggies who smoked pot before school making Moe and I envious and annoyed (mostly annoyed) with their attitudes towards everything being "i don't care" or "do you have $20?"
Moe and I were inseparable..and toxic. We were the rain clouds overhead...and we were brewing up a storm.
Thursday, February 6, 2014
Intro
Running gets harder when you pick up your pace..your breathing heavier and your lungs screaming from this sudden strain. What about in life? If the pace picks up and you weren't ready what happens? Your mind starts working but your body doesn't. Your mind is screaming but your hands are confused. You get stressed and your body just...freaks out.
I've never really been good with words. I just keep most of what I have to say to myself. I live a different life then most. I'd rather observe than get involved.
I live in a big house, in a nice neighborhood. I have a lovely mother and a giving father. I have siblings of all ages with separate personalities. I guess I have my life set.
It mostly started around 6th grade. The age where you really start to see where everyone fits in. You've got the druggies who think sharpies are still the easiest high, but have heard the high school kids have something that involves fire. You've got the innocent girls who have suddenly realized that push-up bras exist and boys will get weird when you're wearing them. The jocks start to smell, perfume in the girls locker room makes you gag, and if you don't wear name brand you might as well give up.
I didn't know where the name brand clothes could be found, I didn't have a cell phone, sharpie made my head hurt, and I still really enjoyed my training bra. I guess you could say I was raised in a bubble. There was no such thing as growing up. Everyone was a good person and babies were sent in the mail. I just was oblivious. Yes, I heard cuss words and jokes about sex, but I never understood. I will never forget the day when my "best friend" noticed my shirt with peace signs (my mother thought it was so cute) was from Limited Too and made fun of me. I was hurt. I didn't care so why did she?
I never could feel comfortable with myself after that. I never was one for friends in the first place, because I couldn't understand how everyone else worked.
Maybe I was raised in a different world, but I just want to come out of it. Open my eyes. I wanted to be a cool middle school kid who texted boys in high school. Who held hands with a boy who wouldn't talk to me but I was "dating". I was different.
I've never really been good with words. I just keep most of what I have to say to myself. I live a different life then most. I'd rather observe than get involved.
I live in a big house, in a nice neighborhood. I have a lovely mother and a giving father. I have siblings of all ages with separate personalities. I guess I have my life set.
It mostly started around 6th grade. The age where you really start to see where everyone fits in. You've got the druggies who think sharpies are still the easiest high, but have heard the high school kids have something that involves fire. You've got the innocent girls who have suddenly realized that push-up bras exist and boys will get weird when you're wearing them. The jocks start to smell, perfume in the girls locker room makes you gag, and if you don't wear name brand you might as well give up.
I didn't know where the name brand clothes could be found, I didn't have a cell phone, sharpie made my head hurt, and I still really enjoyed my training bra. I guess you could say I was raised in a bubble. There was no such thing as growing up. Everyone was a good person and babies were sent in the mail. I just was oblivious. Yes, I heard cuss words and jokes about sex, but I never understood. I will never forget the day when my "best friend" noticed my shirt with peace signs (my mother thought it was so cute) was from Limited Too and made fun of me. I was hurt. I didn't care so why did she?
I never could feel comfortable with myself after that. I never was one for friends in the first place, because I couldn't understand how everyone else worked.
Maybe I was raised in a different world, but I just want to come out of it. Open my eyes. I wanted to be a cool middle school kid who texted boys in high school. Who held hands with a boy who wouldn't talk to me but I was "dating". I was different.
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