speedgriffon

What He Said Before I Said

(Author’s Note)

“It would be outrageously stupid for you to write a book about somebody who broke your heart. You are only 16- hell, you haven’t even turned 16 yet and you are fully committed to ruining his life by slandering his name. What the hell did he do to you?”

He compared me to a tornado. Said that every time I made an appearance in his life I messed “things” up, that I mixed up his emotions and his thoughts and made quick movement of drawing all of his attention. It wasn’t until he claimed this that I admitted it myself as well. I was a tornado. Every time I made the journey to face him eye-to-eye I was subconsciously sabotaging him to pay attention to me; regardless of if he wanted to. It took almost two years for my subconscious to finally succumb to my questionings of it and I realized. I had been asking for something that I wasn’t going to get. Two years after standing next to him, staring at his shoes and then everybody else’s; two years filled with obsessing over how I presented myself in front of him and if my makeup was smeared. It doesn’t affect me as much as it used to that I spent 1/8th of my life worrying about every little action my brain talked me into, every inch I moved towards him, where my hands drifted and where his did as well. I’ve stopped trying to remember what we did to cause these chains of events. All I know is that it did happen and unfortunately, if I didn’t write this, it might just happen again.

Maybe sometime in the future we’ll find each other and be together

Nothing good comes from standing to my right. I start to lean into your pathway, I don’t turn to look at you, and my hand might accidentaly hit your wrist. I’m becoming a very selfish person. More than I usualy am. I don’t know where I’m going with this and I don’t know what I wrote this for. But it’s for a good reason… when I read it three months from now.

Kitten names:

Petey Pancho Perez
Henry The Third
House. Just House.

In lots of ways, I ignore my insticts for something I want. In more ways, I ignore my mother’s opinions for my own. For once, I’m going to listen to my mother and take her advice. I will stop trying to juggle a million things at once so nobody gets hurt because, at the end of the act, something slips and somebody usualy does get hurt. I think it is time to just suck it up and realize that it shouldn’t always be my fault and that I deserve to be selfish sometimes. I’m going to focus on my future and stop fixing the past with more and more lies. On top of that, I am going to fix the present by strengthening my friendships and finding new ones. I want to get used to Mesquite and honestly, forget where I came from. I’ve figured that the past has caused most of my troubles and I don’t need that.

Honestly, all I need is what I have now. The yearbook staff, my biffles and my family (including Petey).

I’m so sick of being sorry.

I’m turning another page written in 1992 soon. I hope to God I’m not toawrds the end of the book yet. I’ve been living on the philosophy of Friday Night House, M.D reruns and find myself wondering if I have what it takes to be a doctor. I guess it is a little late in my high school career to change what my future is. Plus, I have a “calling” and, I guess I’m pretty lazy too. I think there is a middle ground, honestly. Maybe one day I’ll end up being on the writing staff for South Park, or House.

I always get what I want.

The way the sun is just barely peeking over distant houses. It is just the perfect shade of blue, the kind I love to find in people’s eyes. And when I pressed my palm to the window pane, I almost forgot it was summer. The best part about all-nighters is being able to watch the sun rise.

My past comes back to haunt me frequently. It is the reason I hardly keep photos of “loved ones” on my walls. I find the lack of studdering heart beats surprising, yet, I am happy with myself that I have overcome a broken heart. I have stood up for my heart, and ignored my head/concious. I have decided that I have built up an emunity to sarcasm, as it doesn’t affect me anymore. I have sniffed out so many lies this past weekend that I’m surprised my mom hasn’t told me I am adopted, seriously, I was waiting for it too. I’m so amazed at how much I have learned about myself this week that I am typing in run-on sentences and ignoring my grammar. I have not eaten hot-cheetoes in 6 days, nor have I drank coke. I have however, eaten 12 containers of yogurt. I continue to stare at my Han Solo bobblehead for advice, but find that the only voice I hear is whoever is in my head. Though, sometimes I hear the voice of Hugh Laurie and, even though that sounds insane, I find it perfectly normal for me.

I’m naming my next kitten Henry.
Guess the referance.

Happy Birthday.