(no subject)
I AM SUCH A FUCKING MORONIC FOOL.
I feel like crying. And sort of like laughing. And I just want to go back and fix everything.
Phil was fired on Wednesday night.
He's the guy I have a crush on.
He apparently has been stealing. Like, a lot.
And I can't believe it. It made me sick to hear it. I didn't believe. I didn't want to believe. I don't want to believe. But I know it's true. I don't know how much, but it was a lot.
I would never, ever steal. I can't fathom.. Well, I can, but it's just not something I'd be able to do and live with myself.
But I forgave him. To myself. Because I'm a stupid idiot, and a glutton for punishment.
I'm too compassionate. I'm too understanding. I like people too much. I'm too much of a romanticist. And I like all of those things.
Talking to Brigit at work, who's like his adopted sister, I couldn't help myself. I was all set today to to suck it up and tell myself that I couldn't like him. I couldn't like a thief. Then I talked to Brigit and it all melted away. I practically fell in love with him. I wanted so badly to just hug him and tell him that everything would be alright, that he really is a good person inside, that I forgave him for anything stupid he's ever done.
His mother stole money from her job. She was caught when Phil was still a child and sent to prison. Phil was sent to go live with his father and stepmother. His father didn't want him, beat him to the point that he couldn't sit down whenever he did something his father preceived as 'bad'. He's bi-polar. And off his meds. And I can't help but want to try and fix him. To try and make the world better for him. To tell him that someone cares, that everything will work out eventually.
I sent him a message on Myspace yesterday. Asking what happened, to please tell me.
No response.
Then I talked to Brigit (damn her. Damn her!), and sent him a totally different message tonight. I shouldn't have done it, but it's too late. He's already gotten it.
This time I sort of bared my soul to him. I told him that I cared about him (as in his wellbeing, not that I had a crush on him), that I hoped he was alright. That he could talk to me. That Brigit was worried about him. That I was sorry for everything that everyone had ever done to him that he didn't deserve. Then I told him that if he ever wanted to talk. Ever. That he could call me, and gave him my cell phone number.
I also added him as a friend, half expecting him to deny it. I mean, I might get a little freaked out if someone I didn't know all that well sent me a message like that...
He didn't respond to my message at all. I only know he read it because Myspace tells you if someone did or not.
But he added me back as a friend.
And my heart just... It just did.
I just want to hug him so much.
He made a mistake. A huge mistake. But it's not like he killed someone. Or raped someone. Or anything that genuinely hurt another person.
I don't know what to think. What to do. I don't know why I'm even typing all of this. I guess I'm just venting to the world. Trying to get someone to tell me that I did the right thing. Or even the wrong thing.
I'm afraid I made a mistake. And afraid I didn't do enough. And afraid that I don't know what to do, if anything.
And my Dad came home today. He's doing much, much better. No in home health care, in fact.
I feel like crying. And sort of like laughing. And I just want to go back and fix everything.
Phil was fired on Wednesday night.
He's the guy I have a crush on.
He apparently has been stealing. Like, a lot.
And I can't believe it. It made me sick to hear it. I didn't believe. I didn't want to believe. I don't want to believe. But I know it's true. I don't know how much, but it was a lot.
I would never, ever steal. I can't fathom.. Well, I can, but it's just not something I'd be able to do and live with myself.
But I forgave him. To myself. Because I'm a stupid idiot, and a glutton for punishment.
I'm too compassionate. I'm too understanding. I like people too much. I'm too much of a romanticist. And I like all of those things.
Talking to Brigit at work, who's like his adopted sister, I couldn't help myself. I was all set today to to suck it up and tell myself that I couldn't like him. I couldn't like a thief. Then I talked to Brigit and it all melted away. I practically fell in love with him. I wanted so badly to just hug him and tell him that everything would be alright, that he really is a good person inside, that I forgave him for anything stupid he's ever done.
His mother stole money from her job. She was caught when Phil was still a child and sent to prison. Phil was sent to go live with his father and stepmother. His father didn't want him, beat him to the point that he couldn't sit down whenever he did something his father preceived as 'bad'. He's bi-polar. And off his meds. And I can't help but want to try and fix him. To try and make the world better for him. To tell him that someone cares, that everything will work out eventually.
I sent him a message on Myspace yesterday. Asking what happened, to please tell me.
No response.
Then I talked to Brigit (damn her. Damn her!), and sent him a totally different message tonight. I shouldn't have done it, but it's too late. He's already gotten it.
This time I sort of bared my soul to him. I told him that I cared about him (as in his wellbeing, not that I had a crush on him), that I hoped he was alright. That he could talk to me. That Brigit was worried about him. That I was sorry for everything that everyone had ever done to him that he didn't deserve. Then I told him that if he ever wanted to talk. Ever. That he could call me, and gave him my cell phone number.
I also added him as a friend, half expecting him to deny it. I mean, I might get a little freaked out if someone I didn't know all that well sent me a message like that...
He didn't respond to my message at all. I only know he read it because Myspace tells you if someone did or not.
But he added me back as a friend.
And my heart just... It just did.
I just want to hug him so much.
He made a mistake. A huge mistake. But it's not like he killed someone. Or raped someone. Or anything that genuinely hurt another person.
I don't know what to think. What to do. I don't know why I'm even typing all of this. I guess I'm just venting to the world. Trying to get someone to tell me that I did the right thing. Or even the wrong thing.
I'm afraid I made a mistake. And afraid I didn't do enough. And afraid that I don't know what to do, if anything.
And my Dad came home today. He's doing much, much better. No in home health care, in fact.