L-O-V--- owiE!
06/16/2007 05:24 p.m.



"I love you!"
"Where is this LOVE?! I can't see it, I can't feel it, I can't touch it. I can hear it. I can hear some words...but I can't do anything with your easy words."


I loved him. I still love him. I will always love him. And this love stings. Oh, it's a terrible sting. A papercutsencompassingyourentirebody sting.

It took me many months, but I slowly let him in. It was a fight, but one we were convinced was well worth it. He said he took comfort in my love, and didn't want to imagine a life without me. Whevever we'd have 'those talks' about where our relationship was headed, and how terrified I was and always have been of love, he tensed up. He started crying, each time. Because he said he couldn't bear thinking of living a day without me by his side. HE was the one who loved me first. He loved me hard. Harder than I've ever seen or heard or read. We were a storybook romance. We were radiant, shining, beautiful to behold. But he let it slip through his fingers. And I'm left with unanswered questions and doubts that anything that ever escaped his lips over the course of our love had any substance. I believed that he could change. I believed IN him and with him. I fought for him. I defended him from my friends and family. I gave him EVERYTHING. My heart, each individual brick from all the fortresses I had built around my heart, my time, my love, my effort, passion, dedication, my body. Everything. I sacrificed my friends, my family, my HOME for him. I feel like our love was completely hollow. I've lost faith in mankind once again, and I've written off the notion of love entirely. I was convinced he was different, and he swore he was. I finally believed that he wouldn't dart for the door as soon as I got comfortable with the idea of him being around. And in the end, he ended up running with all the rest of them.

There must be something wrong with me. Some kind of mechanical malfunction I was never informed of. Why does nobody ever stick with me? Why do all the men I care about run as fast as they can in the opposite direction? For the first time in my LIFE I wasn't tapping my foot impatiently, awaiting the familiar creeeeeekkkk! of the front door. Which was the goal really, because everyone's been telling me that if I keep expecting it, I'm just gonna set myself up for it. And so I didn't. I believed him. I believed IN him. And I got fucked over. Hard. I don't think that love is supposed to hurt this much.





I loved him more than anybody ever could. Why isn't love enough?




The following are a series of quotes and lyrics I've found to help alieviate the pain of a broken heart:

We were a stroke of luck
We were a late night vision
I was all that you longed for
You were all I was missing
This could be the change we're looking for
We're all angels on the inside
We play filthy roles
stroke of luck - self against city

you were never a waste of time,
you where just the harsh realization
that i could do better

" Stop talking about love. Every asshole in the world says he loves somebody.
Means nothing. Still doesn't mean anything. What you feel only matters to you.
It's what you do to the people you say you love. That's what matters.
It's the only thing that counts."



Because he has been a major part of your life, of course you'll miss him; it's perfectly normal. It's like getting a tooth pulled out; after the dentist pulls it out you're relieved. But how many times does your tongue run itself over the spot where the tooth once was? Probably a hundred times a day. Just because it was hurting you does not mean you don't notice it. It leaves a gap, & sometimes you see yourself missing it terribly. It's going to take awhile, but it takes time. Should you have kept the tooth? No, because it was causing you pain. Pulling the tooth was the right decision, but it's going to hurt.


second chances. girls take more of them then guys do. Why? I blame Disney, building up these false hopes, making me believe I can have my prince charming. We believe that one day we're going to be saved, that one day one boy is going to come and change our whole lives around in the most perfect way. In the movies there is no 'other woman', there is no deception. There’s just a happy ending, conditions and circumstances don't apply. So what are we to do when our hearts get broken? The logical thing to do is move on, of course, but despite all the lying, the cheating, the crushed dreams, and the painful memories, there’s a speck of hope. A little, itty bit piece of our hearts that is begging for the fairy tale, screaming that we let him try again. so we do. we cry and bite our tongues, hoping that this liar in aluminum foil will finally become our knight in shining armor. hoping that this time he'll be able to make us feel safe, and actually do it. That’s why we break so easily; because our fairy tale dreams are placed on real life boys. Boys who need to be saved themselves.

ransom notes keep falling out your mouth.
mid-sweet talk, newspaper word cut outs.
speak no feeling, no i don't believe you.
you don't care a bit.


i have no illusions about love anymore.
it came, it went, it left casualties, or it didn't.
people weren't meant to be together forever,
regardless of what the songs say.
-Sarah Dessen

and isn't it ironic that just when you think it couldn't get better, just when you start to trust, the bombshell hits and your world explodes in your face." -jane green

you can spend your whole life thinking you want commitment. you grow up with a clear idea of exactly what it is that you want, and yet when you have it, when it's there, attainable, on your doorstep, you change your mind. perhaps this is what we need. a dream, a hope for the future, something to aspire to, and perhaps we need to keep replacing this dream with something a little bigger, because when we manage to fulfill the dream, we usually find out that it's not what we wanted in the first place.or if it is, it doesn't feel the way we always thought it should. sometimes, if you're very mixed up, very stupid, or very thoughtless, you screw up the dream just as you get it. you tell yourself you don't deserve it, and you have to start all over again -jane green


"It's not a silly little moment,
It's not the storm before the calm.
This is the deep and dying breath of
This love that we've been working on.

Can't seem to hold you like I want to
So I can feel you in my arms.
Nobody's gonna come and save you,
We pulled too many false alarms.

We're going down,
And you can see it too.
We're going down,
And you know that we're doomed.
My dear,
We're slow dancing in a burning room.

I was the one you always dreamed of,
You were the one I tried to draw.
How dare you say it's nothing to me?
Baby, you're the only light I ever saw.

I'll make the most of all the sadness,
You'll be a bitch because you can.
You try to hit me just to hurt me
So you leave me feeling dirty
Because you can't understand."
-John Mayer ;; Slow Dancing in a Burning Room



"When you're dreaming with a broken heart
The waking up is the hardest part"
-John Mayer ;; Dreaming with a Broken Heart

"And now i'm walking in a park
All of the birds they dance below me
Maybe when things turn green again
It will be good to say you know me "
-John Mayer ;; In Repair

"All you need is love is a lie cause
We had love but we still said goodbye
Now we're tired, battered fighters"



"You said you'd love me till the day you died.
Well, as far as I know, you're still alive."


~~

It's lovely that you get all fucked up and you don't know where you've been, are you lonely or just fed up with the shape you keep finding yourself in?

You're Beautiful
Every little piece, love, don't you know?
You're really gonna be someone, Ask anyone.
When you find everything you've looked for
I hope your life leads you back to my door
Oh but if it don't, stay beautiful


Sure, love screws everything up. Most stalkers think they’re in love. Mothers who kill their kids talk about how much they love them. Men who beat up their wives, it’s only because they’re so in love. People slowly suffocate each other with love all the time. Love is a weapon we use to hurt the ones we love. – Brian Strause, Maybe a Miracle

You were blinded by the flames in me… Maybe I don’t know what love is, but it isn’t this. –Tara MacLean, “Blinded”


I am currently Apathetic
I am listening to Matchbox Twenty - Long Day

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If I could tear you from the ceiling...
03/11/2007 04:03 p.m.
This day is eerie, dreadful, trying. Frought with self deprication and unanswered questions.

I am impure.
I am a contradiction.
The touch of another is so comforting, but I recoil. Arms around my waist or back completely terrify me. Yet they're all I yearn for. Over the years, I've taught myself to fear that which elates me. Wether it be a touch, or a person, or whatever. It's almost impossible to describe. Such a wonderful feeling tarnished with emotions of fear and anger. I wait for people to fail. I wait for them to fall. I trust no one, because I cannot be trusted. While the sensation of someone's arm around my back might feel spectacular, I know it will not last long. My worried mind jumbles thoughts. I wait for the great to decline. I cannot just let go and enjoy anything. People cannot be trusted. Ever. With anything. Let alone a body. A heart.

I'm terrified of letting my gaurd down, even for a moment. Because that's when you're fucked. You become comfortable with someone, you form some sort of trust in them, you let your guard down, and that's when they get inside of you. That's when they infect you. That's when they tear you down to nothing and rape your mind, your heart. But if they can't get inside, they can't shatter your world.

I want to scream. I want to smoke. I want to destroy. I want to cut. I want to eat. I want to destroy. I want to scream. I want to understand self worth. I want to obliterate. I want to cuddle. I want to sleep. I want to sleep forfuckingever. I want to never have sex again. I want to skin him alive. I want to put these cigarettes out on my hips.

I want to know why everybody leaves. People I care about, people I could give a shit about. I want to know why nobody ever sticks around. I want to know why this paragraph only applies to males in my life. I want to know why my brother left. Why, exactly, that the one male that I respect and love in this world can't give me the fucking time of day. I could give a shit why my father left, but I would like to understand his psychological disposition. I would like to know, in detail, how his thought process works. If he was an alcoholic. Or an addict of any sort. What psychological diseases he had. And how many of them he'd passed on to me.

I would like to know why the lines between being myself and acting so as to please those around me are so fucking blurred in my head. I would like to know why I can't tell the two apart anymore. I would like to know why I cannot simply answer a question. Why I must first consider what the person asking it might want to hear. I suppose that's a defense mechanism, too. Give them an honest answer, they have the opportunity to peer inside of you. Perhaps my selflessness is really selfishness. Perhaps I do not give dishonest answers to please others, but rather to divert attention from my own feelings. Vunerability isn't an option.

Fuck.

I am listening to Placebo - Blind

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3 Libras ; A Perfect Circle
02/11/2007 07:17 p.m.
Threw you the obvious
And you flew with it on your back
A name in your recollection
Down among a million, say:
Difficult enough to feel a little bit
Disappointed, passed over.
When I've looked right through,
To see you naked and oblivious
and you don't see me

Well I threw you the obvious,
Just to see if there's more behind the
Eyes of a fallen angel,
Eyes of a tragedy.

Here I am expecting just a little bit
Too much from the wounded
But I see,
See through it all,
See through,
And see you.

So I threw you the obvious
Do you see what occurs behind the
Eyes of a fallen angel
Eyes of a tragedy

Well, oh well..

Apparently nothing.
Apparently nothing at all.

You don't
You don't
You don't see me
You don't
You don't
You don't see me
You don't
You don't
You don't see me
You don't
You don't
You don't see me at all

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Flip-Top Box
02/11/2007 06:38 p.m.
I started smoking again.

I think it's all pretty relative to my incessant, inexplicable need to destroy myself. To be self-destructive in some way, shape, or form on a fairly regular basis.

My biggest motive, though, would probably be the fact that my double chin is slowly creeping back into existance, and I feel the need to squash it. My mother brought this to my attention the other day. I can't gain more weight. I just can't. It's kind of fucked logic, really. Essentially, it's everything I'm adamently opposed to. Destroying yourself on the inside so you seem asthetically appeasing on the outside. I've always hated that. It's so foolish. But, I can live with the destruction of my lungs. Tar is much more welcome than fat. Carcinogens as opposed to pounds. I can't live with gaining more weight. I can't. I'll hate myself so much more. I'll destroy myself psychologically. Things will become far worse.


Whenever I get hungry between meals, Marlboros are my greatest cohorts.

It's the lesser of two evils, really.


That...and like I had said before, that constant urge for destruction. It's less severe than parting skin, and the burn reminds me I'm still alive. It calms me down, builds me up. Makes me feel good without leaving a scar. Mmmm.
I am listening to A Perfect Circle - 3 Libras

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Honestly.
12/24/2006 08:39 p.m.
Girls...
Honestly.

You've all been blinded by
The bright lights ; those silly movies.
Fooled by Disney's deceptive
Shading and Blending techniques.
Fairytales might have cut it

Cinderella never got her damn shoe back.
Let's be real.
What man would go door to door for anything?
Let alone a lifetime commitment.
In all likelyhood, he might put forth SOME effort...
But he'd end up at door number three
For a quickie.
(She wasn't even that good looking...but he wasn't partial.)


Lets talk about those shoes for a minute, too.
Those 'glass slippers'.
Do you really think that GLASS could withstand
All the weight of a semi-grown woman
Crunching them into the concrete steps she
Was racing down when the clock struck twelve?
Honestly.

If a guy can't call, he's not going to go knocking on doors.
Lifetime is a farce.
Disney is lying!
WAKE UP.
Nobody's coming.
NOBODY'S COMING!
Keep growing your hair, Rapunzel...
But I promise you,
Nobody's coming.




I am currently Bothered
I am listening to Parting Gift ; Fiona Apple

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