I went around blogspot and found a few interesting journals. I left comments. I'm whoring for publicity. It's sad, but true. This was really supposed to help me, because I didn't talk about my boyfriend cheating on me, not half as much as I wanted to with even my boyfriend. And I didn't tell my friends in fear of humiliation and I would hate for them to look at me with their sorry eyes. "There's that poor girl whose boyfriend slept with one of her friends". I don't need that sympathy right now. I would like to tell them after, after I get through all this, so they could see how strong I am, except I don't know when that is, and I don't know if it will ever happen.
But if it won't ever happen why am I still with B.? I have hope, sometimes it runs thin, sometimes it rushes through me like a strong river, sometimes it's just there and I feel peaceful. Finally peacefull. Blessedly hopeful and deliriously hopeful. This was really supposed to help me, because I couldn't stand having everything pent up inside me. It makes me want to explode, or implode, it made me want to cry and cry and I don't like to cry. So I wrote it here, on this journal, on the internet, with hopes of getting rid of my frustation. It worked, kind of. It helped, sort of. But if no one reads it, I might as well keep it pent up, right?
So I whore myself out to you, the internet world.
Sometimes, I get so incredibly lonely. Maybe it's my teenage hormones going on a spree, I really don't know. I just feel great sometimes and I feel like crap the next. I'm not suicidal (if anybody is thinking that). I thought about suicide, over a guy, oh God, I turned into everything I never want to be. To be a wimpering girl clingling to her boyfriend and who is lost without him.
I wasn't always that way. I used to know who I was (or so I thought). I used to do great in school, aced all my classes, all my exams. Teachers loved me, I was the one that actively participated when no one else did and got the ball rolling on class discussions. I was the one they never had to worry about. My grades dropped, they didn't drop, they plummeted. It was amazing to see. I was amazed. It's went from something great to something average. I shouldn't be complaining, but I am. I would apologize, but I'm not sorry.
For now, the worst part of my story is over. It still hurts to write and that's why I'm not writing it right now. Reliving someone whom I've been with for 2 years and something odd months, who I managed to attach myself to in a way that is so temptingly dangerous, cheating on me with my friend, is not something I like to write. But it helps. And if it helps, then God bless it, at least it helps.
Before Pam slept with my boyfriend, she told me that she used to look up to me (before the whole incident). Because I was in the "cool" crowd when I knew her in junior high. I didn't think I was cool, I was just me. I listened to The Beatles, Van Halen, Tracy Chapman, and my old friends thought I was corny. I was shunned out from being "popular" because I left that crowd so I could be myself. She said she looked up to me and respected me because I knew what I wanted, I knew what colleges I want to go to, I knew what I wanted to major in, I knew where I wanted to go, and I knew how to get it.
I still know what I want and how to get it. I'm so grateful I didn't lose that in this whole infidelity thing.
I'm not religious, but I find myself praying to God, to anyone, more frequently now. I used to go to church and Sunday school, when I was a kid. I don't anymore, but I kind of want to go back. I just figured I needed something to hold on to, God, anybody. Just to keep me going.. you know?
But if it won't ever happen why am I still with B.? I have hope, sometimes it runs thin, sometimes it rushes through me like a strong river, sometimes it's just there and I feel peaceful. Finally peacefull. Blessedly hopeful and deliriously hopeful. This was really supposed to help me, because I couldn't stand having everything pent up inside me. It makes me want to explode, or implode, it made me want to cry and cry and I don't like to cry. So I wrote it here, on this journal, on the internet, with hopes of getting rid of my frustation. It worked, kind of. It helped, sort of. But if no one reads it, I might as well keep it pent up, right?
So I whore myself out to you, the internet world.
Sometimes, I get so incredibly lonely. Maybe it's my teenage hormones going on a spree, I really don't know. I just feel great sometimes and I feel like crap the next. I'm not suicidal (if anybody is thinking that). I thought about suicide, over a guy, oh God, I turned into everything I never want to be. To be a wimpering girl clingling to her boyfriend and who is lost without him.
I wasn't always that way. I used to know who I was (or so I thought). I used to do great in school, aced all my classes, all my exams. Teachers loved me, I was the one that actively participated when no one else did and got the ball rolling on class discussions. I was the one they never had to worry about. My grades dropped, they didn't drop, they plummeted. It was amazing to see. I was amazed. It's went from something great to something average. I shouldn't be complaining, but I am. I would apologize, but I'm not sorry.
For now, the worst part of my story is over. It still hurts to write and that's why I'm not writing it right now. Reliving someone whom I've been with for 2 years and something odd months, who I managed to attach myself to in a way that is so temptingly dangerous, cheating on me with my friend, is not something I like to write. But it helps. And if it helps, then God bless it, at least it helps.
Before Pam slept with my boyfriend, she told me that she used to look up to me (before the whole incident). Because I was in the "cool" crowd when I knew her in junior high. I didn't think I was cool, I was just me. I listened to The Beatles, Van Halen, Tracy Chapman, and my old friends thought I was corny. I was shunned out from being "popular" because I left that crowd so I could be myself. She said she looked up to me and respected me because I knew what I wanted, I knew what colleges I want to go to, I knew what I wanted to major in, I knew where I wanted to go, and I knew how to get it.
I still know what I want and how to get it. I'm so grateful I didn't lose that in this whole infidelity thing.
I'm not religious, but I find myself praying to God, to anyone, more frequently now. I used to go to church and Sunday school, when I was a kid. I don't anymore, but I kind of want to go back. I just figured I needed something to hold on to, God, anybody. Just to keep me going.. you know?
1 comment:
Be careful about placing your peace of mind on the actions of someone else. Bottled resentment has a way of eating souls and leaving withered shells behind. Who wants to die bitter? If the price of salvage is too high, sometimes it's best to cut losses and move on, especially when a soul is on the line.
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