He's in my class

& I crush on him. I shouldn't be. He has a girlfriend. He talks about her all the time. So I ensure to watch myself around him. It's not a heavy crush. It could be, but I keep myself check. I know too well the pain cause by cheating. I will not allow myself to become the other woman. No matter how much he means to me. Even if it meant that it was the person I wanted the most.

I will not be her. I will not taint a relationship. I will not tantalize.

Yeah it does.

Writing keeps me sane.

There.

I want to cut. I want to drink. I want to fuck. I want to write. I want to read. I want to bleed my ears with music of self destruction, of addiction, of not being able to have clear vision. I want to feel. I want to live.

But I am dead.

Here we go.

I am dead. Of dead heart. Of Dead mind. Of dead soul. All that remains are the calluses on my hands.

After all this time. I'm back where I started. back to my old single swinging lifestyle. Back to not giving a flying fuck about relationships. About anything more meaningful than friends with benefits, about lust, just caring about what I read, about what I wrote, about keeping self happy with the daydreams and the beautiful words, images created by other writers to keep me happy. This words keeping me breathing. keeping me. keeping me like he couldn't. I feel my own calluses and think of him. think that after everything I'm back in the same place and all I'm left with are memories and calluses.He had calluses too. He had them when I met him. Overwork at age 18, already having too much done to him. I loved running my fingers over it when we held hands. I loved feeling those calluses, reassuring me that no matter what, he'll always work, always provide for me. I loved him. Loved him down to what should have been ugly, unwanted, and I took it as a sign of grace, a sign of beauty, a sign of his devotion to his survival, and a sign of our future together. It's gone now and I'm dead. The only spark of life I feel is when I'm pushing that line. Pushing it, not caring. Drinking, smoking, sex. Pick your vice. pick my life.

Beauty

I remember being short. I remember being in my school uniform, and always carrying a little white button up sweater with me because my grandma would send it with me to school, even in the spring, in case the teatro got too cold. I remember my teacher Ms. York, a sweet sweet young teacher leading us to our seats which were blue. I remember sitting down next to my best friend and just watching the stage brought to life. I remember the etiquette lessons always repeatedly taught before each performance. I remember alot. What I don't remember was how many we went to, or what I saw. I just remember the costumes, the scenery, the dancing on stage, the funny arguments they would have on stage. What I remember now is that I was too little to appreciate it. Who knows how many plays I saw? Who knows what I saw, and what was lost to me because of my age. I do know we saw the Nutcracker, and Alice in Wonderland because Alice was a kid's movie, anything else. Nope. :(

Truth

I lie well.

I lie for only you.

Only

Listening to: The Quiet Things That No One Ever Knows by Brand New.

Dream count yeah.

There was this dark room, and sitting around a table was me, Christopher, and two other little boys I didn't know. On the table were... pokemon cards?! xD In between aimlessly shuffling the cards, we were talking, and then suddenly out of nowhere there was a microphone on the table. And the two little boys started interviewing us like they were reporters... Asking questions about writing, reading, and video games like if they were adults. They had deep voices too. Wtf? I started acting like a total cartoon character (aka Sailor Moon when she's eating) and being over the top in my gestures for my answers, somewhere in between I was cheering with no pompoms, and I made the wink move on one of the little kids who suddenly have a videocamera. Then Christopher was smoking a cigarette, and I believe that's when I woke up. No more SMA Sailormoon before I go to sleep.

Some nights are longer than others.

I'm okay, I'm happy, I'm smiling. Cheerful most of the time, and I love my life. But even though I just had a very beautiful day, the night came. Night came and I am busy busy busy, with learning how to Lindy Hop, having a quick dinner with my best friend and his boyfriend, my friend. And it was beautiful. Then I came home, and I started working on my letter. Listening to the Beatles, writing, brainstorming, hoping to find the right words to make him go 'wow'. Then If I fell, the Across the Universe song came on. I was still typing, thinking, and then I was sad in two seconds flat. I held my face in my hands and I let out a sob, and I felt my heart break, even if for just a moment. There were no tears, just pain. Pain of knowing that I was left behind, pain that he loved her more than me. Just a brief moment, still wanting him, still thinking about him, still needing him. He made me afraid, he made me strong, he made me return back to who I was before him when he left me for her. He made me turn a full circle, back to the independent, happy go lucky, knowing myself girl, but stronger, much stronger, much more confident than who I was before. I am happy, most of the time. But sometimes I still can't stand the pain. Sometimes it still hurts, sometimes I still miss him, miss the memory of us. Sometimes I can't handle it. I can mostly, think about our memories that we have and go whatever, good times, I learn from that relationship to move on to my next, but sometimes I mourn. Sometimes I want him back. I need him back, even if just one last time, even if just for lust, sometimes I just want one night with him to discover what we never discover in our relationship, what was missing. I know I will never get my chance and I shouldn't. But I still wonder what would it have been like to spend the night with him, and wake up with him right there. Next to me. three years and it was over, too soon, yet it went on too long too. The relationship only survive so long, those last few months because I really gave it all, really clawed in there, and dragged the relationship on, even after it was dead. At least I know now that I have above all, confidence and determination.

With those two traits I will go on. I will write more and more, I will get publish. I will read. I will make my life as happy as can be for me. I owe it to myself. I loved him, but it's over. Now there is only hope. Hope in the form of a letter out to a young man who I never stopped caring about, after all these years.



LISTENING TO: Across The Universe - If I Fell

If I fell in love with you
Would you promise to be true
and help me understand?

'Cause I've been in love before
And I found that love was more
Than just holding hands

If I give my heart to you
I must be sure
From the very start that you
Would love me more than her

If I trust in you
Oh, please
Don't run and hide
If I love you too
Oh, please
Don't hurt my pride like her

'Cause I couldn't stand the pain
And I would be sad
If our new love was in vain

So I hope you see that
I would love to love you

If I fell in love with you

<3

Dreams, 2.

Last night I remember my dreams. I was in a fair with my immediate family, along with my grandma. Apparently it was a freebie fall fair. Basically everyone had a little bag and they fill it up with the goodies they were giving out at the booths. Goodies that included school supplies, toys, and somehow I found one that was giving out medicine. I was actually bragging to my mom, going look! I found Neosporin and thermometers for the girls!

Then I remember I had to guide my grandma to the port to potty that look like a trailer. She found it.

Then apparently my mom and I were leaving, with my grandma. I got in the backseat and she started driving, and I look out my window and I see a guy on a motorcycle. I smile at him, and my mom was like "Estefani! You have to be more chamring!" And so I wave at him. Astonishing enough he wave back at me, and up his visor. Then he got stuck at the stoplight and my mom kept going. (Seriously woman needs to learn how to drive better in my dreams) I was looking behind me to see if he was still at the stoplight. I noticed when it turn green and he was just a dot because we were so far ahead. Then I saw that he was approaching, his red suzuki coming up fast. Ofcourse I got happy and then my mom took a turn and I lost sight. >_> The last thing I remember was winding in a residential community. I was hoping he would find me, and then I woke up.

How could I forget?

How could I have been so stupid? After all these years, after my relationship with fuckface is over, three essentials never changed at all. My books waited for me patiently. I rediscover the hunger I had in wanting to read everything in the world. Now I want to write too, again, want to write with the same passion, the same zest. Want my writing to take over the world. How could I forget how much reading, writing, and him, meant so much to me. Still mean so much to me, after all these years.

Thinking this is how it's out to be.

I miss writing out in my journal. I miss writing it out with a pen, and not typing it in. I wasn't going to write about missing writing longhand in my journal. I was going to write about the very off-week I had, but somehow I forgot about that and remember my journal. How I use to tape things in it. How I use to draw in it. Make it mine, and I went looking for it today. The journal I last wrote it. A damask fabric bound diary with beautiful embroidery, a gift from a coworker long ago for secret santa.
I can't find it. I can't find it. I know I only had a few pages to write in before I ran out but it was still a few pages and now I can't find it. I can't find that. I can't find my little black book where I wrote down my book list of books I wanted to read.

While I was searching I found this other diary that I never wrote in. My uncle gave it to me long long ago, while I was still in high school. The year 2003 is clearly mark in it. I think I'll start writing there. I never wrote in it, well because at that time I had a different diary I was writing in. Better late than never, but I keep hope I'll find both the purple diary and the black book of lists.

These feelings

Of dislocation, of restlessness, of dissatisfaction with my life, they went away. For the whole of one day. But they come and go now. In my solitude they haunt me. The feeling that I'm not living life like I should. I was very very happy just last week, happy with everything and everyone and having really good days, really happy days. Somehow over the weekend, it started going to shit. Even though nothing change. I hope I'm just having an off week or something because I want to feel like I use to; happy.

Dislocation? Restlessness? What is this?

Why do I feel like this? Tonight, it slowly started sinking in, maybe I'm just tired? I just want to drop everything and leave. Travel. Do something, be someone else instead of who I am. I don't know what lead to this and it's freaking me out a bit. I have so much going on, and most days I'm happy, really happy, content to be with myself, but there are moments, rare like this when I can't seem to get my focus on anything. >_> WTF? I don't like feeling restless, feeling like I'm not doing anything with my life, I know I am, then why do I feel like this? Maybe I just need a day to myself? I'm going to try to give homework another shot, if not I'm going to sleep.

Maybe.

Years. It's been a long while since I saw him. Everyone indulges me in my fantasy of him. I can't help but smile, feel giddy, beam, really just glow at the thought of him. My friends joke and laugh because he's such a dork, that it's ridiculously funny, and to me ridiculously endearing. I've always felt that way about him, ever since I knew of him. Even before I fell hard for my ex, even when I was with him. I never gave up hope for my daydream. My ex knew this. And at first, when our relationship was getting serious, my ex could tell that I love the daydream more than him. Maybe that's why he's an ex? Maybe he felt that he could never live up to that fantasy. I didn't expect him to. I found this postsecrets online. Three of them, at separate times, and each time I saw them. I broke down. I was never the type to fully sob your heart out dramatics, always my cries were silent, a souvenir of the shy quiet girl I was.
The first one made me get angry and just broke my heart, knowing that there was someone else out there who felt just like I did.
"Why didn't he fight for me? I wanted him to fight for me. He was supposed to fight for me." In my mind I saw it as choosing me over her. He was supposed to chose me. A part of me will always love him. He was my first serious love, a part of me will always take him back. The next secret is "I cheated on my husband, only so he would let go." This is true, because I would have never let him go. Any dumping would have not been by me. He left me. He dump me. He said "It's over." He hurt me, brought me down to a new low, especially so soon after my grandma's passing, and my dog's passing. Some days and nights, despite the cheery smile I put up, all I could do was stare at his number on my phone. Some nights only get so dark. The other secret which made me heal is "Letting go of the woman I love, in hopes she will be happier with someone else is the worst, best, hardest thing I ever done." I knew him. I knew him better than anything, even after he left me for her, I still knew him. Told him so in a text, to stop hiding behind her, that to stop putting up the front, that I knew he was falling to pieces too, just hiding out behind his stone face. I called him out to his emotions in that text and he called me back. He asked me how did I know that it was a cover, a front. Like I said, I knew him. You never stop knowing a person, especially after that type of relationship. It still hurts me sometimes. I still want him to come home to me. Still want to feel his arms around me, singing to me, showing me how childish he could be in his goofy singing, he let his guard down with me. We thought we were forever. He let me go.

And after everything all I had to hold me, to believe in, when I had no hope, no faith, not even in myself, not even in my librarian, what did I have? A picture.
A picture of my daydream. The only picture we took together. I would stare at it, and fall asleep, never failing to make me feel at least okay and a bit peaceful thinking on those times. My friends call my daydream an emotional dependence, my security blanket. I've tried so many times to forget my daydream. Years. Almost did when I was in love with my ex.

I know no one will believe me if I say so now. I think I wrote it somewhere in my old journals. I was a freshman. 14 years old and writing my first novel, a young adult fantasy, that surprise, surprise, I finished when I was 15/16. But while I was writing it, more than any of the dozens of crushes I had at school. I felt happy, believing in this idea that there was a guy out there for me. A guy just like me, who love to read, and who at that very moment, was writing his novel too. Someone just as lost as I am in books, writings, mangas, movies, music. Someone who knows what it's like not to be able to relate to other people. I love him. Had too much heart, too much love, for this imaginary soulmate of mine. Funny how even though, I love the blond, blue eyes, I wanted my soulmate to have brown eyes just like mine, so I would know that he didn't think mine were ugly, common, just because their brown because he would have them too and know the beauty that can be found in the everyday. In a everyday person like me. I love him. I didn't know him. Didn't really care, as long as he was mine.
A year later is when I first heard of my daydream. I didn't know he was only a few years older than me. I just heard it was a good book. I was in Wal-Mart when I saw it on the shelves and pick it up to read the synopsis. When I turn to the author flap and saw him, I didn't drop the book, but I don't know how long I stared at his photo, thinking, he has brown eyes too. Everything that came after that; the obsessions, the letters, the photo, it just reaffirms my daydream. I love him, and it's stupid for me feeling so, real stupid. I love him. I Love the idea of him, and I won't give up hope, not till I get my chance, a real chance.

So maybe now this prayer,
the last one of its kind.
Won't you please come get your baby?
Maybe.

Pumpkin Spice

Inspired by both Mikko & Joey; I am not writing a dream blog.

I've had other dreams last night but I can't remember any except the one I had this early morning. Mikko and I were at school (UNLV) and we headed up to the starbucks in there. Apparently we knew the cashier and there was this huge counter, not a glass display case. The cashier greeted us kindly "Good Morning, Mikko, Stephanie", and said "I've just made pumpkin pie for our customers. Help Yourselves."
She put a huge baking tray of a two tier square pumpkin pie. Mikko and I started tasting it (with our bare hands no less) and we got carried away. By the time we stopped, we ate almost the whole thing. O_o Then Mikko and I were staring at each other, saying maybe we should make a quick exit before anyone notices how much we ate.

That's it. Even in my dreams I'm eating -_-

And also in the 8th grade, I learned how to make Pumpkin Pie. Now I want some.

Her answer

Maybe I change my mind. FAIL. BIG FAIL. Ms. honesty no more denial changes her mind about having a boyfriend. I want someone, something, just so I won't feel so alone at times. Most of the times I'm not lonely, but the nights are long. I want that connection. I want that person that can make me feel beautiful, it doesn't matter whether it's for only a little while. It doesn't matter how long it last, whether it is serious or just for fun. I just want to feel appreciated.

There I changed my mind. That's what I want. I want to fill up whatever space is eating me up when my guard is down. I want to have fun. I want to feel. I want to dream. I want to live.

So there.

Listening to: In the Still of the Night by Five Saints

Ask her.

LISTENING TO: And I love her- Beatles

For the longest time I've been avoiding relationships. At first I was having fun with no strings attached, but like before, that got old, and fast! I still drool over any cute guy or girl that passes me by, but today Mikko, my best friend asked me what exactly it is that I want. I started describing that one night stands are nice, but I want a friends with benefits, but as always with friends with benefits, the friends part is quickly forgotten in favor of the benefits part (I know this from experience as well. So he asked me whether I wanted a boyfriend and at first I said no, because I don't want the commitment. I don't want to be grounded down so into a relationship. He asked me what I was scared of, why didn't I want to commit and I realized that I am not scared of commitment but I'm afraid of losing myself, my individuality, my personality to that relationship, like I did before. My ex became my whole world. He was my world. When it ended, I had to rebulid mine and in rebuilding it, I couldn't believe just how much of myself I lost because of my ex, because of that relationship. I was sacrificing myself for him. I had stopped writing, stopped alternating jewelry, stop any interests, like being a wannabe into the greaser culture, dancing, just stuff and clubs I wanted to be a part of, I stopped. I rarely saw my friends.
This is what has been stopping me, not wanting to lose what I have regain to another relationship. I don't have to lose it, I realized now. A relationship so center on itself, with the individuals losing their personality to it is just bound to go wrong. Another aspect of the fact that I was really in denial to what I wanted is because I know who I want, but to quote Love Hina (manga by ken Akamatsu "I haven't seen that person in years. He probably doesn't even remember what I look like". He's just a fantasy and the chance of him and being together are ultra slim to none. So even though I am up in the clouds, over the moon when I think of him, I keep my feet on the ground, and keep my options open. So Mikko, thank you for asking. I can answer your question: I do want a boyfriend, and this time I won't make the same mistakes. Who know where it will go?