In the still and the chill of the night.

I remember what it was like to have heart and harbor the possibility that anything might happen.

Instead I find that I am the instigator, bringing mystery, allured, excitement to everyday life.

What am I doing? Really? What am I doing with him?


He's not for me and yet I continue this almost ridiculous Amelie game with him. Maybe I'm just jealous because I am Amelie, but he is no Nino. He will never figure out who I am and he will never find a way to play with me, like Nino did to Amelie.

I strive for this different type of life that will hold a love that utterly enchants and the only place I find it in is when I do it, and pull all of this anonymous bewildering tricks that do intrigue the person of my interest but at the same time I don't think they can give a damn. Because really who can relate to me on, who can be that person for me to create that type of love for me?

Who is the Nino to my Amelie?

No one.

It hurts.

It pains at me. I remember how magical moments seemed and I want to reach for a bottle to forget.

I'm trying to forget what they meant to me and it comes back at me and I need to forget already. I need to move the fuck on.

I'm going back to my book. That's all that's left for me to do. It's the only way I can move on with my days and get lost in the writing so I don't have to go on living with these stupid memories.

I will find love and live love, and experience it how I want to. In the pages of my books, through my characters. They will have all I never can have, and they will be beautiful.

Needs a cigarette.

Nuff' said.

It never fails.

It's always like this isn't it?

Will it always be like this for myself?

See, after all is said and done, I am still her.

That girl, and I won't forget. I can't forget. I hope to have some semblance of hope left like I lavish upon my friends, saying, there is always hope, you just have to have faith. And while I say this, I remember. I remember how they both broke my heart and while we were both going through the pain, the hurt, the anguish of breaking up, that both of you, yeah BOTH, Not Once, but twice, you both left me alone with my broken heart for me to heal all by myself, which I did (wasn't damn easy)and while both of your suffering for me was comforted. Both of you were held while you both cry out your bleeding hearts by another girl. I know this because both of you told me in our last heart wrenching bitter argument while reaching for closure conversations. Hell, it was the reason I left both of you!

How nice I remember saying to the first, to have someone to hold you when you're hurting for me, and our failed relationship. The only reason a lover stops paying attention to his love is because of another lover. And to the second, I told that I knew it already. & he assured me that it wasn't like that, that their relationship wasn't like that. That she was there to work on herself and that he was just taking care of her. But I already knew it was going to be like that eventually, and it did. And ofcourse you both went on with your life, and you both would forget about me and did just like I thought to myself, and your pain would be lessen by the comfort of having her in your life.

Like I said, how nice it must be to have someone to hold you already after we broke up. or you broke up, or you left me for her, or just left me. And you said I would forget, I would be okay because I am a strong person. But you forget who I am, you forgot how big my heart was. How I really do give myself over completely to the person I love because I believe fully in loving a person, and not halfassing it.
The second told me that I had loved him in ways that he could never imagine, and it's true, because I did.

I did and because I gave myself over so completely, sometimes it still hurts even though it's been such a long time.

I wouldn't have thought it possible either. To remember hurts like that, but when I saw what I thought was you walk right past me at work, my world stopped, and I couldn't breathe. And I realized it wasn't you and yet I nearly fell apart at work. I don't know how I kept myself in check, my eyes watered over, and I didn't cry only because I swallowed every bitter taste of hurt, and wiped furiously at my eyes to make them go away.

And then the other one, I am cruelly reminded of each Monday and Wednesday because the guy in front of me has your skin tone, and your inability to grow strong facial hair, and your hair color and mannerisms that were so dear to me.

I hate this. Is this why I dream so much of my writer, because he looks like a guy who wouldn't hurt his girl. He looks like the type of guy who wouldn't leave his girl for another, no matter how pretty, how present, how anything she is. How he really would never hurt his girl because he couldn't bear it. He looks like he would always have a kind smile at the end of day, and be forgiving, no matter how much we had argued. He looks like he knows how to actually treat a girl. He looks like the dream he is and I will never have him.

I fear I will always be that girl who was left for another.

While you two were busy being comforted by your other girls, being held while your heart cried out for me.

I did not have anyone and I still don't. No one held me while both of you hurt me because I was actually faithful because I believed in us up to the very last moment, I did. I really did and I still suffered for it. Like the song, I gave you everything I am, everything I got. But love had it's say and it wasn't for me.

why in the fuck did I have to be reminded of both of you? Why did I have to have dreams, of both of you?

Why did you both have to do the same thing in the end to me? Why? It just makes me want to give up hope and forget.

I shouldn't even be stressing about this. I shouldn't be remembering. I should forget, like you both forgot me.

There's nothing left to say, I was right, and sometimes I wish I was wrong, especially when it came to this but I know how guys can be so well that I can't help look at the reality of the situation.

And my situation is simple: I'm a dreamer now and that's all I'll ever be.

Blame it on the night.

This and my previous blog, mostly my previous blog are to blame on my dream.

Because in my dream, I was loved and treated I'm supposed to be treated and he was holding me. Holding me so tight as we slept together, going to the market with my mom, his mom, both our parents approving. Us walking, reaching for my hand.

He was holding me as we went to sleep after messing around but not having sex because we hadn't had sex because we didn't think it was important to rush it. Because we were happy just having to be in each other's arms as we slept.

And this happened before and it never fails to fuck me up. Because when I awake, I find myself waking up alone. Him gone, and the reality that I have no one who will hold me that way or the potential. And I find all my pillows surrounding me like a body behind me. I think that's why I dream of someone holding me, because somehow during the night, I am cradled by my pillows and dream of strong arms around me when I sleep to keep me happy.

And I wake to find none. It breaks my heart and I dreamt dreams like these before.

And every single time, there's nothing to do but wake up and live my life. With a guy or no guy present. I will be happy, damnit. I will be happy just being me, being selfish and will explore every adventure, and take every step.

I will not let myself become bitter, even more bitter than I am. I refused to be crushed. to be heartbroken. I refused to live a life of misery just because I can't find him, and he won't find me. And as for girls, I just want to play with them, because I don't know if I'll be able to love them. I know there is no difference. Guy or girl, but I just know I'm not ready to come out as bi to parents until I am dependent. I just know that one day I will, and today is not that day.

Today I refused to be unhappy and beaten down by this shit. By this and anything else. I am going to be happy. I am going to go after my dreams, companion or not.

I will break all the rules, and just say fuck it to the game because I play by my own rules.

I never

Midnight confessions to a guy I never met but who is always txting me, keeping me awake during the routine of work.

Me: I used guys.

And he said it was okay because he used his friend's happiness to substitute for his own.

No I don't like him. I just keep thinking about why I told him that. Because I realized it's true. Anything walking with a penis that is decent looking by my standards. I just want to fuck and fuck over? Why? I think it's simple. Every relationship I have ever been in has always ended up with the guy going for another girl. Leaving me broken, used, leaving me alone, leaving me for her. And I know I wrote about this, several times. But it's because it haunts me. It shapes me, and shapes the future of any guy I have. Even my serious crushes disappoint me. They crush me, break my heart off in little pieces because of the fact of the potential I see in us and their failure to be that guy. To want me that way. To care. Relationships break me and my crushes, along with my missed connections, they just hurt me. So what's left?

Funny. I am not the super jealous type nor the jealous type, and have not developed it by past betrayals. Maybe that's part of the problem but I never want to be the needy girlfriend and I don't think I'll have a chance to be a girlfriend. My friend says that my summer boy wasn't really a relationship because I knew it had to end. Is that going to be all my relationships now? Am I only going to be happy in a relationship where I know it has to end?

I don't know. I just know that when school kicks in, I'm going to whore it up and take comfort in my sexuality to make me feel powerful, to make me feel like I can give the finger the love because I don't need it. because every time I go looking for it, I am just starting to think, how long before he finds someone else? Before he leaves me?

And even with these letters in the mail, Amelie stunt. I hardly have faith in anything. I just want to mess around a bit and see what happens because I have nothing to lose. And I really hope that by the time IF I chose to reveal myself, that I will be driving so that at least I can get a ride.

Is that why I'm attracted to motorcycles? Because I get that feeling of all is right in the world when I am on one? That I don't need guys to be happy. that I can make my own happiness by riding? All I know is that destiny is calling me. School starts next week and I am more than looking forward to it, because like Mikko, I feel like I didn't get a break, a real vacation.

So I'm hoping fall terms kicks in and I will have time enough to fool around and maybe catch a ride or so in between the classes, the work, the homework. If I'm lucky, I'll be driving LEGALLY to school by October or November.

No real education

I'm afraid.

I'm afraid, when I should be embracing it.

I'm afraid when I should be waking up challenging it.

I'm afraid because I am coward, and this coward took a chance.

I took a chance and now I am afraid, after the fact.

I need to breathe and not be afraid because after all, he doesn't know me. He can't say anything. I am a masked zorro amelie to him right now, just a mystery, and yet I'm afraid that I will fail. Do I really want this? Do I really want him? I am not even sure but I'm taking a chance and doing it in the most odd and yet only way that I know how to do it because I know that if it happens, face to face. That him, like any other guy, would just be a missed connection. Because they always are. It is only through my writing that I grab anyone's attention, and everyone's from the look of it. But what if my writing fails me? What if...?

I don't like being afraid, especially not for and of my writing. Of this potential I know so well. And yet is the real issue here is not him, but the fact that I might, actually be afraid of reaching my own potential?

What if I reach it and it's not like I want it to be?
What if getting there, writing like this, writing everyday is where the true happiness comes from, and after the fact, after there is no happiness to be found?
What if I aim for that guy, and once I get him, I don't find happiness because I was stupid and selfish enough to love and want only the idea of him, and not the real person, just like with CP.

Is that why I'm so disinterested of late? Because I might just love the idea of things but then not really want them because I am afraid I only love the idea of them but not the actuality. What if I dont love my books after they're done? What if I go after my dreams, and don't love them in reality?

I took a chance and I need to learn to take more chances, for better or for worse, but just take chances, for me.

The write way?

Writing.