Things
Two months until my birthday, and something feels like it's totally missing.
Everything... security... it's gone. All gone. I used to think the world was relatively safe to live in, but I guess I was wrong. Hell, who am I kidding. I am the naivest person I've ever known. I didn't know what sex was until I was ten years old. And I had had no idea that people did that.
Change made itself prominent this year, that I can say. I don't really care much for 2005. It was a horrible year on many counts.
Yet there were some nice things. I met Janice... and Robert... and, okay, I nearly shut down my site a few times and seriously contemplated what the world would be like without me.
For the first time ever, a boy that is not going out with one of my friends said I looked nice. At Winter Ball. I think that was the highlight of my year. Oh my god, I'm so pathetic. I cried after Winter Ball because no-one I knew asked me to dance. It's so pathetic, it's so stupid as to why I should even care but I do care, I care so much that I get this huge lump in my throat because I care. I've felt like crying almost every day for a while, and there are three people who have managed to pull me out of it. One of them doesn't know it, but he does.
My insecurity grew this year, it so definitely did. I don't know why, I just feel... agh. You know? What do I know, I'm not even talking to anybody, am I? I'm talking to myself. Like I have been all year.
Romeo... screw him, he can go to his precious little squirrel. I've seen the way they look at each other, the way they walk closely together to their classes - I'm really not that stupid. He says he's numb, but there's that one sparkle in his eye whenever he's talking to her. So what if I don't have a chest, or, or, or a tan, or money, or the "in" clothes that all the other girls have? I don't have that kind of budget, I'm insanely jealous of them all because they have "in" clothes and aren't hated by some people. I think people use me sometimes because I'm smartish, and I'm the steriotypical geek - glasses, acne, grades in the 90s, absolutely no life, no ability to flirt, and maybe only three real friends, with a writing fetish. The only boy who's ever had a crush on me was stalking me and it scared the bloody hell out of me.
I've stopped believing in love. It doesn't exist. We just say it and don't mean it at ALL. If I experience it, I'll know it.
Why do we have to change? Why do we do the things that we do? Love doesn't exist for me, I'm sure of that. I've just... ever since the letter I just went... beserk. I keep trying not to believe it, trying to believe he didn't write that, trying to think that he'll somehow magically end up liking me, but it's not going to happen, there's absolutely no humanly possible way that he can. He likes Squirrel, Squirrel likes him, so screw them both. They could make out in front of me and I wouldn't care.
Okay, maybe I would care, but who's really going to notice one more crying girl in a crowd, looking at a boy holding hands with another girl?
Six months. I've liked him for six bloody months, almost seven. Why? How do we pick those that we love? Do we pick those we love, or is there some sort of element of fate thrown in there? I really wish I knew.
I've also felt like I'm coming up as second-best to some people. I'm not in their Myspace Top 8 things (I hate myspace, but whatever) and one of my other friends is. So what? you say. So what? I know it's only a stupid website, only a really stupid thing, but it makes me feel horrible, like I'm not a good friend or something. Am I a good friend? Would you say that?
Screw this bloody popsicle stand, I'm going to go crawl off in a hole and die or something.