Highlights, Lowlights, Bud Lights.

Just kidding about the last one. I'd never drink that crap even if I could drink alchohol.

So, Highlights of 2011:
~Junior Prom
~Ponies
~Getting back together with 1
~Birth of mah Nephew, Tryston Gabriel
~Southern's spring Concert 2011
~Japanese homestays ♥ Probably one of the best parts of 2011 for me.
~All of my adventures with mah meeps
~Monster High, Morning Musume, Berryz and S/mileage ♥
~All of my experiences with my job
~My 18th Birthday Party and the week of absolute hyperness after I turned 18
Lowlights:
~Depression worsened
~Dad threatening to leave, again
~Nonstop sickness, mainly my throat virus
~And, though not necessarily a lowlight anymore, when 3 broke up with me. More like a bad memory, but nothing I regret. Hell, if that never happened I never would've been with 1 again, ne?

So over all, this was a damn good year minus the lowlights. Hopefully next year'll be even better, and god hope I heal soon.

Reverted.

Back to supporting the sound village around my neck,
wearing a hat just about every day,
Wearing outfits that make everyone but me question it.

Back to a brave smile through depression and judgement,
back to an innocent love I never thought I'd have, let alone regain.
Back to a life of being passionate about anime, sonic OCs, and music.

Oh, music. Back to The Rasmus and Nightwish,
back to the alternative style I was so fond of while
still finding a new love of jpop, a love for the harpsichord.

Back to the girl I thought was gone forever: This 'Kinja' girl
who seemed to be nothing but a memory, a mistake learned from,
though I realize it never is a mistake to be yourself, to be brave, to be different.

Different.
I am completely different, while still being completely the same.
And I would never change that for anything.

And then I realized

I'll never be able to stop loving you.

I'll always miss our friendship, our roleplays. Our cute little banter, whether it was ShiruKina or ourselves.

Looking back at those moments,reliving them, I feel just as happy as I did when they first happened.

Laughed and smiled at you cute little sayings, held tears back when you told me how much I mean to you.

I don't miss the times when we would cyber.. I just miss those emotions that went with it.

I miss your love.

I miss the emotions of a true friend never wanting to let another true friend go, no matter what. A friend trying to comfort another, reassure them that they will always be friends.

I would take back my words, take back the cybering, the phone sex, I would take back anything like that and I would even take back cursing you off, just

so we could be friends again. Just so we could love eachother like friends should.

The Mistake

People ask me if I have regrets and mistakes I would change.

Most of the time, on their end, your name comes up. But, You are not a regret of mine.

'We' are a regret of mine, just as 'we' were a mistake, not you. I could never regret meeting you, being your friend, even falling in love with you.

But I regret how we spent our time together, how we took it farther than we should have and it ended up killing our friendship. We never should have been together, no matter how much I loved you, no matter how much you loved me. Because love can only be set in stone if both people want it to be, and it's kind of hard if you can't meet eachother.

I regret that we didn't talk things over, I regret that we didn't sit down and talk on the phone about our problems like adults. I regret that we couldn't fix things after the mistake of letting it go too far.

But, I don't regret you.

To Miss You

Is like disobeying my mind. To forget about you would be disobeying my heart.

Mind: The kid hurt you in so many ways, give up on him for good already! He's too much of a fucking prick to waste your friendship on.

Heart: I physically can't. I love him to the point of, if he ever ended up in the hospital and I knew, taking my Japan fund and using it so I can be there for him.

Mind: Be practical, hun. Visiting someone who really doesn't care about you and let your friendship die, or living your dream of going to Japan.

Heart: The friendship isn't dead, it can't be. We went through too much to just let it end.

Mind: He already ended it.

Heart: He saved my life. As far as I'm concerned, without him, I wouldn't even be alive to go to Japan.

Mind: All the more reason to go and forget about him.

Heart: I CAN'T. I physically can't.. I love him too much..

Mind: Enough to tell him all the stress you have bottled up reguarding everything that happened between you two?

Heart: ....

Mind: I thought so. Just let him go. You love someone else, you're fine without his friendship. It's over.

Heart: But to deny him would be denying the reason I'm still breathing. His friendship SAVED my life. I don't care that he's a bastard, I don't care that he's changed, I don't even care that I'll never meet him. I would give anything for his friendship again.

Mind: Fine, fine. But so help me god if you ever want to get back with him..

Heart: No way in Hello!Project! I'm with 1, and it was a mistake to leave 1 in the first place. Because I left 1, my friendship with 2 turned into something unbearable, something that killed 2 and my friendship.

Mind: Good. Ya know, you should talk to him. Call him up, make sure he picks up, and tell him you need to speak to him. You both still need closure and even if it's the last time you talk, you'll atleast have gotten everything off your chest.

Heart: You're right.. I'll try.

Unorthodox Escapade:.Scene

~Saturday night, 11 PM~

Unorthodox: -opens the door to their apartment, in her bartender uniform. Hangs up her apron, walks into the kitchen-
Escapade: -viciously cleaning the toaster with a disinfectant wipe, the entire kitchen otherwise sparkling-
Unorthodox: -light smile- Alright, what did he do this time?
Escapade: -in a growl, fighting back tears- He did nothing..
Unorthodox: -light laugh, trying to lighten the mood- Hun, you only ever clean when you're at work or in a bad mood, and this sure doesn't look like Wawa.
Escapade: -with a grunt puts the toaster down, throws the wipe and stomps off to the couch, gathering up her messenger bag- You can just ask him when he brings my stuff over.
Unorthodox: It's that bad, huh? The bastard probably did something really stupid.. -walks over to her, puts a hand on her shoulder with a grin- I'll talk sense into him for ya, Cappy.
Escapade- Just tell him to get the Hell..o!Project out of my life! -throws the door open, storms off- .... -runs back, slams door, stomps off again-
Unorthodox: -shakes head, sighs-

~4 minutes later~
-knock knock-
Unorthodox: I'm coming, keep your skirt on. -smirks at her own joke, knowing it's Xerox behind the door. Opens it-
Xerox: -A tall boy, 15 years old, shaggy hair in a worn-out football jersey and jeans. carrying a box of clothes, trinkets and photos- I'll take it she's either polishing something in the kitchen or stormed off.
Unorthodox: You're pretty smart for a jackass. She left, but not without making the kitchen spotless. Seriously, even a vampire could see their reflection in the toaster. -grabs the box from his hand- You can go now.
Xerox: Woah, no interrigation? That's a bit Unorthodox don't you think? -smirk-
Unorthodox: Oh shut it, kid. I know it's your fault, and you must've screwed up big time. That's enough for me.
Xerox: -sigh- Listen Doxie, she actually broke it off. Not my fault.
Unorthodox: ..Seriously? -puts the box down, looks at him- Do tell. -goes over to the couch-
Xerox: -sits in the armchair opposite Unorthodox, scratches the back of his head- Well, she finally had enough. Just flipped me off, said she hated me, and stormed off. I didn't do anything.
Unorthodox: -irritated- Oh, so you keeping her a secret from everyone in your life is nothing?
Xerox: I can't though!
Unorthodox: Bullshit! You haven't even told you own parents about her, hell, you even tell her to keep it a secret. You think that's comforting to her?
Xerox: .. I want to tell them about her, trust me I do. But my parents, my friends.. they don't know about my life outside of sports. Hell, they'd probably laugh if they knew I met her on an anime chat site of all places.
Unorthodox: So you're ashamed of her? That you would rather keep your shitty rep than your girlfriend who seriously would die for you?
Xerox: -closes eyes, sighs- What if they don't approve of her though?
Unorthodox: -facepalm- If you truly love her, it shouldn't even matter. She's always coming home pissed because of it, she cries because the way you're acting, doesn't really show that you love her.
Xerox: And why didn't she tell me any of this?
Unorthodox: .. She's too nice, that's why. She was terrified that if she actually told you how she felt, that it would make matters worse. She didn't want to loose you. As a lover or a friend.
Xerox: -blush, ashamed look on his face- Well, if she actually told me.. then maybe I could've atleast tried to change something. I do love her. When the guys and the cheerleading team go to parties and stuff, I realize that none of the girls there would ever love me as much as she does, none of them understand me as well as she does.. -trying not to cry- And that I could never love someone as much as I love her.
Unorthodox: -smile, walks over to the coat rack- Then grow some balls and tell her, kay? You know her well enough, so I'll let you find her. Bring this though, It's pretty cold too, and the idiot forgot her jacket. -throws a lolita-style jacket at Xerox- Have fun.
Xerox: -fake laugh- Sure, Doxie. Let's hope she doesn't kill me first.
Both Laugh as Xerox stands up, salutes Unorthodox, and exits the apartment.

The Smell of Scallions,

freshly cut, take me from the bus-stop to my grandmother's backyard, when I would pick them with my cousins. Of couse a nine year old didn't know that she was playing while her grandmother lay in her deathbed, just amazed by scallions and the little pond outside the retirement house. A wave of nostalgia sweeps through me as I remember each time I would spend time with my grandmother, before they moved from Barnegat to the retirement community, before her cancer took over. Playing jacks and pick-up sticks on the kitchen floor, coloring books on the counter or playing Sorry with her and my grandfather, or picking strawberries fresh out of grandfather's garden. Then, when holidays came around, the entire family would be at her house- her assortment of dolls and holiday decor glittering the house, a huge tree with M&M ornaments in the corner of the living room, just in the corner of the window and the 'balcony'. There was no TV in the living room- In fact, only a couch and a small radio took up residence in the room. The TV- the giant screen one, atleast- was down stairs, where my grandfather, John(back when I'd think of him as dad) and the other guys retreated for football and Poker after supper. And then later the girls would take over, put on a movie like Rogers and Hammerstein's Cinderella, and sing along to the entire movie.

       My grandmother always crafted her food by hand, and made lovely holiday meals and desserts. The taste of orange cream pie now tickles my tongue- I remember that she would always make extra orange creme and put it in a container for me, once her pie-making was done. I also remember watching the smaller TV, shows like Star Search and Disney movies, while eating Blast-o-Butter popcorn. Kind of strange, how I can still remember everything we did, and picture the house exactly how it was 9-10 years ago. If I was to go back into that house I could tell you everything that was in it and where it was, and what I spent most time doing in each room.If only I could remember my current days like I do that house.

     I wake up from my nostalgia to hear a song that I tried to avoid today- Dare I Say by Alexander Rybak. Or any Alexander Rybak song, for that matter.Why?

Today, October 21st, would have been a year if we were still together. And so I feel off. Not because I particularly miss him, no. It's the simple question that tugs at me at the anniversary of anything- 'What if things went differently?' I wonder if I would be as depressed and stressed as I am now, if we still would have been going strong. And if so, what would have happened between 1 and I? Would we have kept in touch after he graduated? And when 3 went to college, if we would still be together, how would that have affected everything? Would we have somehow found a way to be together tonight, or talk about how much we loved and missed eachother? It's just.. strange to think about. Pointless to think about.

But the question that tugs at me the hardest, so hard infact that I would fall face-first, is if he even remembers or realizes what today was a year ago. I can't ask him, I don't want to ask him. It would bring up things that should be left unspoken. Things that could ruin what is perfect right now..

Love.. such a tricky thing, ne?

When you know you love three people, and yet you don't know if feelings are stronger for one than the other.

How if you picture one with someone else, or they actually find someone else, you're perfectly fine with it. But if you picture another with someone else.. you just can't take it. You should be able to, but you can't.

Funny, because the one person I thought I loved more than anyone, I was perfectly fine with him finding a girl of his own.

The person I dumped for this kid,the one who I thought of as really only a good friend, I cried over when he found a new girl.

And now, talking to my most current ex, I feel tears threaten because he's simply talking about a girl he likes. I don't get it.

All three times one of them found/spoke about a girl they liked, I was dating one of them. The only one I didn't cry over (for that reason, atleast) was 2. It confuses me to no end.

I know it's possible to love more than one person. But how do you tell who you love more?

And is it even worth it?

Hope.

A fragmented thing, isn't it? Something all have, yet barely anyone listens to.

Hope is a whisper. Trained ears can hear it and pull it close.

Others push it away, or just cannot hear it. It's those people who crumble.

And yet,

I hear it perfectly. I'm crumbling.

Why am I crumbling? For what reason?

What have I lost hope in?

Triangles.

It seems like three is my cursed number, everything in triangles.
Three huge stages of depression in my life.
Three people who changed it the first time.
Said three strangers now, after three years.

Three failed relationships in the past-
Relationship one, though lasting for five months, lost its luster after three.
Relationship two- He broke up with me 3 times. The third day after he told his parents about me, he left for good.
Relationship three- three days after our three month anniversary he left.

Three threats from my dad saying he'd leave,
three times I thought it would be the other way around.
Three nights of non-stop crying,
occuring every three months.

Will this be another cursed three,
three months into my fourth relationship?
I hold my breath, hoping that this three,
and the three days after, finally breaks
the ugly cycle.

I only hope that I don't see another three,
another pyramid,
another tomb.

Movie Night

So, 3 came home from College, being on break, and decided to organize a whole movie night with his friends like we used to do. I was really excited to see him again since it was months, but at the same time I didn't know what to expect. Concidering the last time I saw him I almost cried, and the fact that 1 was also there and it's still awkward being with 1 when 3 is in the room, I really didn't know what feelings would come up. But, when he pulled up, he was in the best mood I had ever seen him in, with dance music blasting. It was hard not to be in a good mood too.

The night went pretty smoothly, actually. No depression (minus that very slight awkward moment when people were talking about hooking up with other people/ past hook-ups and frankly I did not want to hear any of it because it made me sick no matter who was saying it), just a bunch of laughs and fun. It was great to see everyone again.

The car ride home was much more silent than the ride there, with 1 in the car as well. We rode in silence minus my iPod and the occasional singing from myself and/or 3. I wasn't sure what was going through my mind, to be honest. I was lost in the music, in nostalgia, I guess. Just because I missed the rides like this, with and without 1 in the car. I said my goodbyes, kissed 1, and of couse had to ask 3 for a hug. I mean, I have no idea when I'd see him again  and he meant alot to me.

He's a really great friend, a great person. I guess I miss him, but moreso just hanging out, ya know? Conversations, laughter, going places. I don't necessarily miss the more intimite stuff, which should be a good thing since I'm with 1 again. And really, even if I wasn't with 1, I'd still not miss the more intimite stuff. If anything I'd miss holding hands, snuggling together. The extent of what middle school couples (should) be. Because the way I see it the other stuff isn't important, and it can destroy a relationship. The relationship could become all about make-out sessions and almost-to-the-point-of-sex states, making just regular dates strained or just nonexistant. They could become so important that one or both of you depend on the other's love to get by.

I don't want that. I never wanted that, even though that is how 2 and even partially 1 and 3 ended up as. I just want to fall in love. A love not about sex or intimacy, a love about giving, not taking. A love that focuses on just being able to spend time with the person and genuinely feel like they are your blood. I want to find a love that actually changes my views on marriage, that could change my views on  my mortality.

I'm not sure I found it yet. I know that I wished that I would find it in either 1, 2 or 3. Especially 1 and 3. I wouldn't date anyone else, atleast not until after college depending if I live that long. The only other person I would even consider dating I let go of my feelings for, or atleast gave up my wanting to confess it to her.

I got off track. Simply put, tonight was amazing. 3 and I are still good friends and I'm glad about that. 1 and I aren't awkward, also glad about that. And I think things are a tiny bit clearer now that I rid my mind of these thoughts, so I will sleep easily tonight.

Goodnight.

In His Arms

If you told me a year ago that I would end up back in his arms, I would have shook my head and said 'It wouldn't work.'

It happened. For close to three months I have been in his arms, completely his, a smile on both of our faces. Whether we are getting intamite or even just cuddling next to eachother on the bed, especially the latter, we are perfect. I start to think about my future-our future- a future I never thought I/we would have. Even are silly conversations bring us close, bring hope in my eyes.

I love him so very much. I was blind to see this when I was fifteen but now, close to three years later, the friendship blossomed into the love I was searching for all along. A love where neither demands the other, where each knows how to love the other without being told and not faking it. A love only soulmates would have. He is my soulmate. I believe this.

I fell asleep in his arms for 10-20 minutes today. I was so comfortable by his side, that I could doze off with the comfort of him near. As I opened my eyes he smiled down at me, kissed my forehead and ruffled my  hair, and I was just as content as I was when I closed my eyes.

The bad thing about falling asleep in your beloved's arms is the fact that they might have to leave. If you wake up to an empty bed, yet the tingle of him next to you still lingers, it breaks your heart. You long to be in his arms again. And if you fall asleep in his arms, it is very, very hard to sleep alone without thoughts of him cocooning your mind.

Is this the same when you get married, or move in together? Is it possible to be dependent on falling asleep in his arms?

He only left twenty minutes ago, and still I can feel his skin upon mine, his warm smile and kisses.
I already long to be in his arms.

The Stranger

You've been in my life since I started avidly using the computer.

You've been in my life since the time I thought I would never fit in.

I would never have a boyfriend, never have a bunch of truly good friends, never be looked at as anything but a freak- that is what I believed.

I knew I had problems. But once I met you, they started to disappear. Or atleast go to better use, like roleplaying.

We got to the point of talking every single day- on the chatbox, on the phone, later on Facebook. You came to know more about me than anyone else, and I felt like I knew you just as well.

I fell in love with you. You saved my life. And I didn't care that I would never meet you in real life, you meant so much to me that I would go through hell to keep you as a friend.

And trust me, if the past three years weren't hell I don't know what is.

From best friends, to lovers, to a broken friendship. Kept me a secret from your friends and family, kept 'us' a secret from our own friends. We broke up for the last time, you promised we would stay friends.You ignored me. Tried to make me hate you to get over you. You idiot, can't you see I could NEVER hate you no matter how much of a bastard you are? Yes, you piss me off to no end. You make/made me cry more than a girl should. And still you are the first person I want to talk to when I'm feeling horrible, the first person I need when I'm going through a crisis. I should have learned by now you don't care, don't respond. But I do it anyway. Shoot you some friendly attempts at a conversation, get you something if only a card for your birthday/Christmas.

Hoping that the boy who saved my life is still somewhere inside the stranger I see.

On my way home

My stomach churns as I stand up from the cramped bus seat, ease my way out of the vehicle, head pounding. I'm not sure if it is due to nausea or hunger, but I hold my breath, hoping not to throw up. I glance down at the sinful pages I hold in my hands- An Ellen Hopkins novel, about teen prostitution. I really shouldn't have picked it up, or still be reading it for that matter. It might also be contributing to my weak stomach.

I notice my angel wasn't on the bus today as I glance at the people in front of me. Now, people would most likely look at me funny if they heard me call her my angel, but that is exactly what she is: an angel. Beautiful, selfless, not judging; smart enough to handle herself and yet vulnerable like the rest of them. Honest. And although a sinner, she is still an angel. Absolutely beautiful.

I never really thought about her in any other way but a good friend until she opened up to me. Until that night when she told me she was bisexual. I was bicurious, but never gave it much thought. But after that night, I thought of her. I thought of being able to make her smile, happy, loved. To protect her, to let her be her true self. It was unlike any other crush because I wasn't looking at appearence, or personal needs, or anything physical. I was looking at pure emotions. I was looking inside, the most beautiful place I've seen.

Hell, I even thought  about telling her how I felt. I promised myself to tell her before the summer was over. But, I was confused because I knew that I loved my ex boyfriends, and especially had feelings for one of them still. Could I love her if I still loved them? I was also scared as to what she would think, if it would work out. Or if it would break us apart. I lost a friend because of 'love' before, I would hate for it to happen again. Especially with her.

She found a boyfriend, I lost my chance. But she was so happy. I saw her blush, smile, saw the love for him in her eyes and just knew that if she was happy, everything is golden. I was happy for her. If she came to me with a problem because of it, I'd listen. Try to help her- let her know I'd do anything to help her. It was at those times I really wanted to tell her how I felt about her. But I never did.

Not even after they broke up. I lost hope on telling her, ended up going back to my first boyfriend. I still love her though, still have those thoughts about bringing a permenant smile to her face. I want those beautiful eyes to glow with happiness, hope. Love. And so, I will do that as a friend. It's all I can do.

I finish my thoughts, look ahead. I've gotten to my driveway. Oh look, my father's truck is in the driveway. Good news or bad news? The house underwent some progress, yes, but not nearly 'spotless'. He hasn't left yet. Will he? My stomach churns again, asthma acting up. I haven't seen him for a week. Him not being here then didn't affect me at all. But him coming back is making me wonder, will he leave? For good? Has he even really been here to begin with?

Dreams when I'm sick

Usually are a mix of Ellen Hopkins and whatever my mind wants to torture me with. Tonight's dream was one of those.. It wasn't a nightmare, like the dream of a fatherly figurehe was supposed to me my dad in the dream, but didn't look or sound like real-life dad) raping me that I had last week.

No, this one was much less frightening.. but confusing beyond belief.

We were in the backseat of a car. Myself, Ex#3, and my current boyfriend's ex. I believe we were being escorted to the Library? I don't know. But we made a pit-stop at Wawa. I remember accidentally putting my arm around 3 to get balance, move away quickly.3 and 'Her' stay close most of the time.

So, we get to the library. I go to look at books while they slowly exit my mind and the area of the library. I find two Ellen Hopkins novels and something else, then go to look for them. Stumble upon a very strange room to have in a library- a bedroom. The room just randomly on the side of the library with a door. Open the door, therethey are. I still see the picture in my head.. Both naked, blanket covering both for the most part. He looking down at her with this smile on his face.. a gentile, loving smile. With her.. well, I can't remember. But apparently both leave their glasses on during sex.

They notice me. I turn around, say 'I'll be in the car' and stumble off. I feel weak.. Jealous? Of what, and more importantly who? With a sigh I get the person who was driving us- my mom, apparently- to check out the books for me and, instead of going back to the car, I go deeper into the library.

I meet 3 again, fully clothed, while I'm actually trying to write down what just happened as if it were a dream. we talk for a bit, joke around.I end up hugging him. He embraces me. I struggle between wanting to break away and wanting to stay in his arms due to the scene I just witnessed. He kisses me, just the way he used to. Gentile, loving, soft yet firm. Okay, really confused now. I think I curse him off, I forget. But I remain in his arms, looking away from him.

That's all I remember in the dream.. But it really confuses the hell out of me. I guess that's what dreams do when you're sick(probably in both meanings of the word).

The threat

Or rather the promise
of you leaving shouldn't effect me.
I mean, you moving out would be
no different than how things are now
because I never see you.
You don't bother with me,
my life,
hell, if you saw this you would just ground me
because I'm telling you off.

You wonder why I'm so ill,
it's because you make me ill.
Here I am, working my ass off at Wawa,
at school,
dubbing,
and I do try and atleast do some things around the house.
Already overworking myself as it is,
then you say 'guess what, if I come home and this place isn't spotless
I'm turning right back around and never coming back.'

You're already gone in my eyes, dad.
Hell, I can't even call you that anymore.
You're just like your own father,
you don't even realize.
And if I end up in the hospital
because of the stress you're putting me through,
because of the 8(yeah, I counted) times I cried in the past two days
that caused me to puke, to burn up,
to barely even be able to do my own work
let alone stuff you forced upon me,
well I wouldn't be surprised
if you didn't care.

I don't even have time for myself anymore.
And if I do, I can't enjoy it
because I'm so stressed,
so sick,
still making the list of things to do in my head.

If you want to leave, just do it.
It will give me one less person
to disappoint.

Busy.

School.
Work.
Homework.
Food.
Dubbing.
Pass Out.
Repeat.

This has been the last two weeks, for the most part. On days that I don't work, I do extra homework and dubbing. On days that I work 4-8 or 3-8, I end up passing out as soon as I get home. I haven't had a full day off yet(but come next Saturday I might), which will probably still consist of some kind of project, dubbing/audio mixing, and either talking to or hanging out with my boyfriend.

It's strange, but I kind of like that I don't see him as much as a typical boyfriend and girlfriend would. It makes things more personal, ya know? Sure, I miss him, especially if I don't see him for weeks at a time. But it just makes me even happier to see him, to hug him, and to know we both were waiting for that day to come. Then we just chill out, talk, laugh, other stuff, and know that the next time we see eachother will be just as amazing as the last even though it won't be for a few weeks.

The bad side is it's been giving me time to think, too. And you know what thinking means. Doubts. Questioning myself, my past. Strangely, but perhaps a good sign, I haven't questioned him or anything about him yet. The doubts are simple, the ones that I had with all three relationships.

"I'm a horrible girlfriend. Too protective, too annoying, too paranoid, and selfish.."

"It will end before you know it."

"He could do much better than me."

Only this time, I never question him. Not once when he said or IM'd me 'I love you' did I think {Do you really?}

I asked that question, if only in my head, to the other two several times.

I was thinking now that, if it were any of the other two to ask me back, even though I would want to(Especially my most recent ex), I would have said no. Because I'm not good enough for them. They can do much better, and it isn't hard to find. They just have to stop looking, and they'll find her. Someone that is not like me in the least, someone better. Someone who can offer them the same love that they recieve.

I wonder. If you got a new girl, would I cry? Be jealous like when I found out 1 was dating someone else while I was with 2? Or will it be similar to my reaction when I found out 2 was dating someone else while I was with you? When I found out, I wasn't sad in the least. Not jealous. Nothing. I was genuinely happy for him because I was genuinely happy with how things were for me. For you and me.

I only hope that, if ever you find your Fairytale girl, that I may be genuinely happy for you. And be able to listen to 'Dare I Say' as just a song, with no meaning to connect to it.To you.

What's Behind the Doors?

(Third post of the day, yes. Perhaps it shows how little a life I have, or how much of it I spend thinking.)

I look at my past as if I were in a game show. The announcer, just a shadow, smiles and motions over to three doors, asking me to pick one to look behind.I already know exactly what lies behind each door, and I gather up those memories like plants and sunlight.

Door #1
My first boyfriend, met on Halloween 2009. Or was it 08? It was my Freshman year, I knew no one but people that my 'brother' introduced me to. That's how I met him- he was with someone else, I thought nothing of him but another aquaintence, soon to be friend. I remember writing something along the lines of 'Orochimaru is a sexy beast' on his arm with sharpie. Great first impression, ne? Months passed, I would hang out with him and my brother and their group of friends after school each day, end up talking to all of them, especially him. We would even have random convos on DeviantART, as that was before we both discovered facebook or myspace. It wasn't until Christmas Eve that he admitted he liked me, and asked me out. Being the simple fact that I never had a boyfriend or anyone actually say that they liked me(I was always the one who no one would want to talk to and was only asked out if it was a joke by a jock) , I said yes. I was completely swept up in the moment. and thought I was happy.

That was, until Door #2 swung open.

Door #2
I met him in 2007, on a Naruto roleplay site that he created. He was only 11(me being 13 at the time), and the one who saved my life. Sounds kinda sad to say, but I was suicidal back then. I would try to drown myself in the tub, tried to put a knife to my throat, cry myself to sleep more often than not. Barely anyone knows those secrets, but they all would suspect it. I was too shy, too wierd when I did speak, and bullied far too much to be sane. The people who knew nothing about me, including 2 and two other friends I met on that site, ended up becoming my best friends and truly saved me in those times. They knew(and still know) more about me than other people, than my parents, than my real life friends. They didn't care about my flaws, infact they embraced them, and always helped me when I needed someone to talk to.

But 2.. I had a small crush on him, but I blew it off because I knew I wouldn't meet the kid in my lifetime. It vanished completely while I was dating 1, atleast for a few months. It was after 5 months that my feelings started to change. I would end up thinking about 2 more than anything, dream about him, want him to be the one next to me. Lust, maybe? Mixed in with the feeling of safety whenever I spoke with him, that I seemed to care more about him than 1.

So, I broke up with 1 to be with 2. We cybered within a week of my breakup. I still cringe at that, but I accept it. I loved him. No, I was in love with him. I truly thought that.

We were on and off several times- he always broke it off, felt bad, came back to me. One time he realized while on a trip with a bunch of other kids and girls in his school that I was the only one right for him. The only one he needed, loved. The second time it was a week before Valentines Day. He felt like such a bastard about breaking my heart(again) that he had a dream I was with someone else, and he felt so hurt, betrayed. Regretted letting me go. That was the last time he asked me back.

We were together for a few months after that. All I truly remember, looking back on it, was the cybering. It was most of our relationship, with only sometimes a genuine, not-perverted conversation in the mix. One day, while eating Perogies(sad that I still remember that?), he called me up. He was at a party, but he knew I was going to go to bed soon, and wanted to tell me goodnight and that he loved me. That is my favorite memory.

What should be my favorite memory is the day he told his parent's about me. I was just a secret for close to a year. No one on his side of the country knew who I was, or what we had. However, I found out something that shouldn't have done any damage but instead put my heart in a blender and pulsed it(no pun intended) for close to an hour.

I found out 1 was dating someone else.

I cried so hard that I had to reread 2's message three times before I started crying again, this time of joy. I was finally not a secret, I was finally 100 percent his and people knew it. His parents accepted us together. At that moment I had more hope for us than I ever did.

Only for him to break up with me, for the final time, three days after.

I was a complete mess. Any music that reminded me of him I couldn't listen to (which was almost everything on my iPod at the time), I barely spoke to anyone, my grades dropped. This was my Sophomore year.

It was July of 2010, approximately four months or so after the break-up, when I met #3.

Door #3

I saw him around school from time to time, but didn't even know his name. He was in #1's Japanese class, that's how I knew about him. But we really only started to talk on facebook. Simple conversations, aquaintenceship turned to friendship. We even said that we should hang out sometime over the summer, and I brought up the perfect place to meet- the St. Mary's Fair. And so we did. In that time we learned more about eachother, hugged for the first time, played some games, danced like fools by the water-squirt game.

It was one of the best moments I had in a long time. I forgot about 2, if only for a moment, and the song Funny Little World started to slowly resemble my feelings for him. Unofficial dates followed- Bowling, movies, etc. until October, when he told me he liked me. For the first time, I could honestly say I liked him back. It was far different, far more simple, than my past relationships. It was what I needed at the time, and got more and more perfect as the time went on. Sure, some days were like repeats of others- me in charge of the music, joking around about how I can never play a whole song through, watching anime/Zim/movies while cuddling. But it never got boring. Never seemed repetitive. Each date was very simple, entertaining, perfect because it was just us. Even the highlight of New Years eve was breaking away from our friends, making a Wawa run with him, talking, laughing, laying in the 'snow'(though it was more like ice then. XD). It was a perfect night. And every time he told me he loved me and never wanted to lose me..

I believed him. I felt the same way.

Yet even so, I knew it would end sooner or later. Considering my last two relationships blew up in my face and I almost completely lost the one friend who very well may have stopped me from commiting suicide due to a relationship, I was terrified of that moment. I tried not to think about it, kept reassuring myself by talking to him, kissing the 'love locket' he gave me before I went to sleep or when I had doubts.

I still remember that day.

I just got home from work, a busy 6 hour shift in the summer. Check my phone, one missed call. Before I could even call back, I get a message on facebook. The only thing it says-

"hey"

No capitalization, punctuation, no smiley-face or calling me 'you' or 'love'. Something was up. My heart heaved as I ask him if something's wrong, trying to sound casual. And then he tells me, detailed, that something changed that made him bitter, careless. That whatever this something was, wasn't going back to normal. So in order to not hurt me in the long run, we should break up. I sat there, staring at the screen. Fingers trembling, trying not to cry. But I knew it would happen, even though I didn't want it to. I told him I understood, that I would be okay. I had to be okay, for his sake.

And so I let him leave. Put the locket in my Ex-box(a little Beauty and the Beast music box, holding anything my exes ever gave me). I tried to talk to him a bit after that, stay friends. He ignored me, I got pissed. I tried to force myself to hate him, just like I did with 2. Didn't work. But, after a while we started to speak again.

Hell, I even asked him to prom. He said yes. And you know what?
That was truly one of the best nights of my life.
Another being his prom, he 'returning the favor' of me asking him to mine.

That night, in the limo, we unintentionally(okay, maybe slightly intentionally) held hands during a game of 'truth or poke your eye out' with our limo group. I was asked if I still liked him. He, which I found cute, covered his ears and went 'lalalalalala' while I answered. I said 'sort of''.

That was such an understatement. But, because I had no hope of us ever getting back together, I left it at that. 

Looking at all 3 doors

I compare my feelings for each.

1 was a dear friend who actually was closer to me when we weren't dating than when we were. He was a sweetheart, genuinely kind. But we dated too early, I believe, and so it seemed to mean nothing once it was over.

2 was a kid I fell in love with and still loved dearly, though would never go back to even if God himself came down and said 'Get back together with him or you're going to Hell'. I'm already going there, sweetie. And if it didn't work all those times before, If I know I am not good for him and he's not good for me, it just won't work.

3 was the person who gave me hope about relationships. About myself. And up until our break-up, I felt like we were perfect in the other's eyes even if we both have a list of our own flaws hidden somewhere. And though I tried to convince myself I'd never go back to him, I wanted to. I really did.


I ended chosing door number One. When a friendly 'try to get her to squeak by tickling her' ended up with me falling into his arms, and neither of us moved. When we started to talk, had time to ourselves for a few days and both decided to give it another chance. Maybe it started too suddenly, being two days after his break-up with someone who shall go unnamed, but we kept talking about it. Making sure it was right, making sure we were ready to try again.

Does this mean I gave up on 2 or 3, that I don't love them anymore? Not in the least. I honestly believe I love all three the same amount, but the love just changed forms. I still have memories of them both, still end up laughing and crying because of them, still have trouble breathing when I think about what went wrong. But I have to move on.

For my sake,
For 2 and 3's sakes,
for 1's sake.

Ingredients for one Kat:.

~ Two cups of sparkles
~ A dash of Yay
~ Brown hair
~ Hazel eyes
~ Cream skin
~Thirteen Ties
~Six cats
~Two ex boyfriends- three if you count her current, whom she had been with before.
~An attraction to men and women
~2/3 cup Finnish Metal
~1/3 cup Jpop
~1/4 cup Alexander Rybak, Bubblegum dance, techno/nightcore, and European music.
~110 lbs of assorted things
~Two sticks of depression
~Five cups of sugar
~One teaspoon of trucker's mouth
~One cup of perviness
~2 3/4 cup of intelligence
~Absolutely no muscle
~A splash of poetry
~A sprinkle of literature
~A 10 lb heart stuffed with love and stabbed through the middle- twice
~A handful of controversy

Did I forget anything?

Funny.

How only now am I actually using this, even though about half a year ago, maybe longer, I was set on making one.

Sure, I doubt many will even know about this, yet that's perfectly fine for me. Most posts of mine end up on Facebook, anyway.

Even so, I will be posting a bunch of work. Old poems, rants and rambles, English lyrics to Jpop songs, etc.

You might not like what you see, and so I warn you. Hell, my own work tends to bring me down, make me think how twisted I am. Deliciously twisted, perhaps.. or just someone who should never talk.

Funny, how no one would expect me in real life to be so pessimistic, such a deep thinker to the point of creating the most sinful pieces of work, or connecting my life to those whose thoughts are equally depressing.

If you knew me in real life, you would see someone who looks 6 years younger than her age of 17, wearing so many accessories she could work at Claire's and sporting fashon based on a doll collection. You would see someone who is usually either extremely bubbly or extremely shy, but always smiling. Someone who ends every conversation with 'Stay sparkling!'.

Someone who works too hard, but loves her job. Someone who sings to the point of throat infections every month, but loves singing.

Someone who must stop this blog because she has to go to work.