I've noticed something

It's been a long time since I last posted. A long, long time. I really must post more often....

When I have something more interesting to say. 

The Puzzle Box

I could sit here forever, and watch the world collapse around me. I could watch my own world fall apart like a puzzle falling off a table. That's what my life is, a simple collection of oddly shaped pieces that under some strange coincidence, fit together perfectly. The catch is you have to spend hours and hours trying to piece it together so that the picture on the box looks like the picture you made. You would think that I would be upset about watching this collapse after putting all these countless hours into it, but I'm not. We all know at some point or another that our lives will fall apart between our fingers, like a cookie that's gone too stale or a clump of dry dirt. It's a luxury to be able to watch it first hand. I feel... blessed...

Little letters

I was once told that when I'm upset, I should write a letter to myself telling me how I feel. What a nice sentiment, I thought, that will solve all my problems and make me a more confident individual. Okay, so I didn't actually say that, but if I was one of those self help books those would have been my exact words. The truth of the matter is that this isn't for everyone. This is a pointless exercise considering that (a) I'm well aware of how I feel already and (b) I'm more concerned with how the other person feels (because when I upset myself, there's always someone else involved).

My recent endeavors with this kind of problem is with Billy, the current male of this species that occupies a large portion of my conscious mind (and cellphone minutes). We jokingly burn each other because we both know that we love each other and don't mean it, but every now and again I slip one out that makes him go quiet. It doesn't hit me at that exact moment, and he always forgives me after I profusely apologize, but give or take ten minutes later I'm feeling like the biggest bitch on the face of the earth. 

I would always apologize and try to make it up to him, but he would always say it doesn't matter because little comments like that don't really matter. He knows how I really feel about him, so all of those snide remarks don't add up to anything. Besides, he makes silly remarks to me too. We're even.

He may think that way, but hours later while I'm laying in bed I'm still thinking about it. I didn't know what to do to free my mind of the guilt I imposed upon myself, so I came up with a system. I took that letters idea and applied it with a twist. Instead of writing myself letters, I wrote him letters.  I've only written one so far, but I felt a lot better after. I explained it to him on the phone one night.

"So, you know how I always say stupid shit?"

"And then apologize for hours after, yea."

"Well, I figured out how to fix the guilt."

"Really now?" 

"Yea, I'm just going to write you letters. And then never give them to you, because you don't need to see them."

". . . "

I haven't completely worked out the kinks of this system yet, but it's getting there. And I can actually sleep at night, which is a plus because I don't see much of that to begin with being a college student and all. 

Faith in the Unnatural

New York City has been my home a large portion of my life. I've seen some crazy people. I've seen some crazy groups of people. Though, even after all those strange run-ins, babbling preachers, and radicals have crossed my path there's still one group that amazes me with it's closed minded views. Hard core catholics against homosexuality is what I'm talking about. It's funny how I came to this, considering I've always kept the crazy conservatives in the back of my mind as another annoyance that really wasn't there. Kind of like your neighbors annoying little dog. You really want to shoot it, but you know that it would only end in a prison sentence, and no one wants to be man handled by Big Bertha from cell number 75.

Moving on with the story...

Yesterday my friend and roommate, Monique, sent me an invite via facebook to a group called "Gay Marriage Killed The Dinosaurs." Now, before you all go jumping down Monique's throat, let me tell you that she's not the crazy conservative catholic. This group was a mockery of those who are against gay marriage. I found it highly amusing, but some people didn't get the joke. Apparently there was a lot of hate mail from people who didn't read the whole page and just assumed that it was another group against gays. How wrong they are.

This was a union of people fighting for equal rights, but with the satirical quality behind it the matter was lightened. Nobody likes a crazy group of radicals.

One of the topics posted in this group was a link to a catholic group who was completely homophobic. I thought it might be interesting to see what it was all about. "It can't be that bad," I told myself.


It was that bad.

All of them were quoting bible passages and saying homosexuality is a sin. I felt like I was at a white supremacy support group meeting. They said things like "homosexuality is a sin" and "It's not natural, it's not part of God's plan." What I don't understand is that if it's not part of God's plan, than why would he create it. People like this that force their beliefs down other people's throat and tell them that their life is a lie, now THAT'S not part of God's plan. Even if you don't believe in God, if you function under another higher being or no being at all, it's wrong to force your view on people who don't want to see it that way. The worst part is that they would jump down the other person's throat if they even suggested them seeing it their way. (That sentence wasn't structured well...)

A few brave members from the group supporting gay marriage joined the crazy catholic group and fought for what they believed in. I admire their ambition and bravery. I was scared that I would have hate mail out the ass if I joined that group and said something. Though there were other people with my view there, I felt like I was one against all of them, and dealing with that wasn't something I wanted to do.

Looks like the things I marked off as imaginary boogey men under my bed were real and all around.

He Talks Like A Gentleman

I met a new boy. Actually, I've known this boy and we've had some promiscuous relations a month or so back but these one night sessions turned into something a little more. I ended up growing a bit of a love for him. As much as I don't like to admit it, I'm fairly certain that he was the subconscious reason that I broke up with my last boyfriend. I'm actually glad that I did. I didn't want to be tied away from what I really liked. This one feels real, but instead of explaining this, I'll just put up the song that explains this perfectly.

"When You Were Young" by The Killers
You sit there in your heartache
Waiting on some beautiful boy to
save you from your old ways
You play forgiveness
Watch it now ... here he comes!

He doesn't look a thing like Jesus
But he talks like a gentleman
Like you imagined when you were young

Can we climb this mountain
I don't know
Higher now than ever before
I know we can make it if we take it slow
Let's take it easy
Easy now, watch it go

We're burning down the highway skyline
On the back of a hurricane that started turning
When you were young
When you were young

And sometimes you close your eyes
and see the place where you used to live
When you were young

They say the devil's water, it ain't so sweet
You don't have to drink right now
But you can dip your feet
Every once in a little while

You sit there in your heartache
Waiting on some beautiful boy to
To save you from your old ways
You play forgiveness
Watch it now here he comes

He doesn't look a thing like Jesus
But he talks like a gentleman
Like you imagined when you were young
(He talks like a gentlemen, like you imagined when)
When you were young

I said he doesn't look a thing like Jesus
He doesn't look a thing like Jesus
But more than you'll ever know



I think that sums it up well. He actually saved me from myself. I was rotting away in that other relationship with a boy I would never be able to be with. Being pulled out of that denial is liberating beyond words. This new boy puts a new light on things. I feel like for once, I'm in an actual relationship. Not a bubble I built for myself.

Lost Myself Along the Way

It seems I've lost myself somewhere through my little journey called life. I'm doing things I told myself I'd never do. This includes little things like kissing one boy, then turning around and kissing the other. I noticed this drastic change in perspective just recently, but it's not a recent change. I've been like this for a while. I've traced it back to my junior year of high school with my second boyfriend.

I've always had low self esteem and Evan, my second boy on the line of past lovers, was gorgeous. He was the most attractive boy I had ever laid eyes on and I thought that it was a miracle that he ever liked me.

Now, understand, I realize now that I'm far from unattractive, but at the time I hated the way I looked with such an intensity that any positive thoughts that I might have had were rendered lies.

Anyway, he acted like he was totally into me and for a while, he was. By a while I mean three weeks. When he had met me, he had just gotten out of a two year relationship and even I could see that through the resentment for his ex-girlfriend, he still had a thing for her.

On the third week, before we could even make it to a month, he cheated on me with her. I didn't know till she sent me an email telling me that he had cheated on me. I would have been okay probably if I had heard it from him, but I heard it from "the other woman", which just sent me over the edge.

All those cliches like "I knew it was too good to be true" and "I'm not good enough" flooded my mind, clouding my judgment. I was unable to come to an accurate decision and ended up getting back together with him, only to break up two hours later.

I was convinced that no one would touch me ever again. I felt like used goods and that I was nothing more than a place holder until Evan could win his girlfriend back. I automatically assumed that that was what everyone else saw me as. That, on my part, was a horrible assumption, but after having that though ingrained on my ego it was hard to think other wise.

I was apathetic towards most things at that point. I didn't think anyone cared or wanted to care about me, and I was ready to just throw away my morals for the sake of doing so.

When a person gets to that level of uncaring, it should be apparent that they're about to start a long trend of doing stupid things. And so I did.

My friends would invite me to parties and just for fun I would hit on every guy, then not act on it. I would lead them on then leave them in a drunk and horny stupor somewhere out on the streets. I kiss different pairs of lips, and feel the same kind of emptiness towards each passionate lip lock. I didn't throw myself at them though. That was below even me. I would merely seduce them, occasionally let them cop a feel, then leave. This was my proof to myself that I was attractive. I would say sweet things to pump up their ego, perhaps flash a bit of my bra, mock a strip tease, anything to get a rise out of them and have their eyes on me.

To me, this was a self destructive path; one that I'm still on. I no longer do those cute, innocent high school girl things I used to though. Now that I know how to excite, I use it to my full advantage. I get bored, and before you know it, there's hands on my chest feeling their way around. And I let it happen. I just sit there, and laugh, and let it happen. Then when I'm alone, in the comfort and solitude of my mind, I hate myself a little more.

This indecision, this inner loathing, this need to be felt by unwanted hands... all because of a silly little boy that gave my ego a big bruise.

Meh.

I broke up with my boyfriend. I didn't want to, but the miles between us is driving me mad. I just.... couldn't do it anymore. And yet, the only thing I feel is anger. Seething, fiery anger. Not towards him at all, but towards myself.



I am a bad person.