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.