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[19 Jul 2008|03:17pm] |
Right, so a rant. I haven't seen Dave for a week now, I'm fine with that, it's called life. It might seem to him like I go a little crazy when I don't see him, and I think he may think I miss him to extreme limits that may scare him, but really I miss him just the right amount you're supposed to miss someone. It's perfectly healthy, but I tend to think he blows things out of proportion because he always tells me I'm going a little too far with things. I think he's just not used to it, being loved that is. Not everything needs to be complicated, and you shouldn't have to work so hard to get affection from someone. Maybe he likes working for my affection because he's just so used to trying so hard or something, but I'm not one of those people who like to make things difficult. I know him, I'm happy with him, and he's great to me, I'd hate to almost lose him again. I know he doesn't like that I'm so shy around his friends, but there's really nothing I can say because generally when they talk it's about people they know- so there's nothing I can really say because I don't know anyone. I know I find myself repeating myself in most of my entries, and lately it's been hard to word what I really want to say.
As of late I've been needing someone to talk to, and I'm just so used to calling someone every night. I know it's a little much, but even back when I was single I had Amo calling me every day, even when he was busy he'd call me right when he got home to see if I got home from the bus stop alright. I know that's pushing it, but I miss speaking to him every single night before I'd go to sleep, or sometimes for 5 hours. We always had something to talk about, now it seems like I can't talk to anyone or I have nothing to say, but somehow I want to speak to someone often, maybe not every night, but at least once during the week at night when I'm just laying in bed. I can't speak to Dave the way I used to speak to some people because I'm always afraid he's going to take something the wrong way, plus his idea of funny I guess is a little different. I can't be my true self around anyone, and since High School I've lost myself completely. Even with Carly I have a hard time being laid back because when I do get to see her all I can ever do is talk to her about how I'm feeling, and we just talk, and I repeat myself. I'm sure I drive her nuts, I drive myself nuts sometimes. Sometimes I hesitate to talk because I know she's going to get annoyed, not to mention some things just aren't funny anymore, and the things that were funny I've lost in the back of my mind. I can't remember anything anymore, and it really sucks. It's the one thing I've feared my whole life, and I haven't really been writing my hand anymore so It's harder to keep track of my past because on here everything is lots of clicks away, and I'm sure one day something will happen to this journal. I've had this journal since I was 14. My first entry was on June 27, 2003, I have a total of 513 entires, this being 514. It's somewhat sad to think about, but a lot of it is just me being 14 and irritant. And it's really ironic how in that entry I'm blabbing about how Lindsay had stopped calling me and how I missed hearing from D'Arcy calling me at 10pm telling me he was going to bed. It's sad to say that he doesn't even remember those days, or probably who I even am. When he left, he left and that was that. But then again everyone seems to leave, and that's just simply that. Not to mention I just leave people and that's that too. Like Justin, I really miss Justin. We've come across each other sometimes on the bus in the morning since I've started at Dawson, but that's pretty much it. Then there's the people who still bother with me which is nice, and Kris is pretty much well the only guy that remotely bothers with me that's an ex and we've been friends for like 5 years, but then again when I'm with him it's like the world can't stop us, especially with beer in hand. He's the only person I can really drink with because everyone else just doesn't bother, or can't keep up. I kind of regret not going to the party last night, but I don't do themes and Friday busses run retardedly.
Anyway the whole point to this useless journal entry was trying to say that Dave constantly thinks I'm mad when I call him and he just so happens to be out. The reality of it is, I want to talk but you're busy, therefor I'll leave you be so you can have your fun, I shouldn't be interrupting you. I choose not to talk to you because you're busy, I'm not going to keep you from whatever you're doing. Why would I be mad? You're living your life, I'm living mine, and it just so happens that we're part of each others lives and I have bad timing on phone calls. I just like talking, like actually talking- and it's usually when I'm calm and it's dark out. But last night I wasn't even going to call him, but he said he'd call me because I let him go when he was at his fire thing, and he didn't end up calling me- so I called him, and he happened to be out again. He thought I was mad, again, and when he hung up I didn't exactly find it the nicest way to hang up on me. Now I'm just seriously confused and upset because I don't know if he's mad at me, or if I messed stuff up. I can't call today because I know he's busy, and I didn't bother calling again last night because I knew he was out- plus I didn't feel well. I fell asleep at like 4:30AM because I was really sick. Anyway I texted him saying I wasn't mad, and that I'll call tomorrow to find out if I'm still going over or not. I'll pack my bag today anyway, because I usually find myself forgetting something important. Anyway, I'm never usually mad at him, and for that one time I was a few weeks ago about that party was mainly because I he said something, then was like 'I never said it was no girlfriends' yadda yadda, then he goes and tells me he found some girl really hot and made his retarded 'she's really hot' face which made me feel like crap because I know I'm not a barbie, but atleast I know I'm not a fucking bitch, controlling, or full of myself. All I ask is for him to understand that the only reason I get upset about the faces he makes to other girls is because I know I'm never going to be that girl no matter how hard I try. I might one day look a little better, but never perfect, and it's not like I choose to be fat because I do infact eat healthy, and watch what I eat and drink. As of now I haven't been getting much exercise, but I want to, I just can't get up early enough in the morning to do it. I like being up at night, it's peaceful. Once I get back to school everything will improve once again, then I'll definately be working on my time off rather than sitting on my ass. I actually miss running, but it's just way too hot to do anything during the day really, especially in our cramped up house. Also, I don't need Dave calling me fat because I know I am, the truth doesn't need to be heard, I've heard it all from my father, and I still hear it every single day from him, and it never ends. I know Dave has had it tough and whatnot which I guess makes things harder for him I can understand, my family might not be cracked out or anything, but I still have to listen to my father insult me each and every single god damn day. I tried to tell Dave how I felt about when he picks at how I dress or look, and I know he thinks I take it way harder than he intends it to be, but like he's paranoid, I'm not okay with hearing the one man in my life that I care about saying things like he does. Like I said, I hear it enough from my dad, and he's supposed to love me no matter what because I'm his child, but really, the only person I can ever count on loving is my mother. I know Dave thinks it's weird that my mom is like a best friend to me, but she seems to be the only person who can remotely give me the respect I deserve, listen to me talk about everything under the sun even if she doesn't want to, and I'm going to be there for her when she needs me, like she's always there for me. Plus we're both in the same boat with my dad, and I've seen her cry-- no one else can understand what we go through because we live under the same roof.
Anyway that's all, aside from I got to see Tia's kitten at Sylvia's house yesterday because my mom had to feed the cats there. He's over a year now, and he's so fuffy and cute.
Plus I never really mentioned my dad cut his hand open at work and was in the hospital all last sunday getting stitches. I know it's his finger or whatever, and I know how much I dispise my father, but I will admit I was worried. He tried to go to work this week for one day, but couldn't write and stuff, so he got the rest of the week off, which is weird because he just had his week vacation last week.
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