Turn around.

Life likes to play games.

I wrote this blog before. Too many times I've thought it. But now it's for a different person that I have in mind when I feel this.

I miss him.

I do. And it just kills me because I know he misses me too.

Would it be better if he was an asshole to me so I could forget more easily? Severe that connection?

It hurts because I know what I can do when I miss him like this. My phone is right there. He'll pick up. No matter what the time. He'll talk to me till I'm smiling into the phone.

Fuck.

I'm going to read and try to forget.

But I still miss him.

Lock N' Load.

Why Hello hello hello.

What's this?

I'm single again.

Now it hits me that I am and it hurts.

But I remember what I do with the pain. I manipulate it. Take it and change it's form with words. drinks. cigarettes. hookah. and just go right back into playing the game.

As much as I have been turning off my phone and trying to seal myself away from my social life, I can't.

I can't afford to, as much as I want to stay here, hidden, in the comfort of my room and my words, sipping wine, playing it off as fruit punch. Right. Bumming off cigarettes when I get a chance.

Today's weather is a scattering of self-hate with anger in the morning, and showers of bullshitting fake calm in the afternoon till some weather controlling satellites know as crazy friends snap me out of it or more into it.

Taking comfort in my sexuality will only bring about that confidence I need to harden my heart.

Time to refuel.

Taking comfort in my sexuality.

But I want more.

I was fine, laughing it out, laughing it off when Mikko is with me, talking to my friends, being happy, enjoying my books, loving my day and then night fell and I was reminded of how the clock tick away the hours so fast when I was on the phone with him and I missed our conversations.

I looked at your photos. I left you a comment and deleted it. I couldn't help myself. I told you a bit of what I wanted to say and then deleted my comment and I know you won't get it because you never check your notifications email, you just delete it like I do if you do check your email.

If letting go is what is good for us, then why do I put on the song that reminds me of us on repeat and sit here in front of my computer, writing, remembering, hoping to be carried away into my book and forget how my phone is silent these days like we both said it would be. If you knew me better, you would see how much pain this is giving me and how I'm trying to play it off. But you don't.

And tonight started out as being a very "So what" day, just having fun and going on being myself, same ol'Stephie, when in between texting others, I saw my phone light up out of the corner of my eye and was far enough to be able to make the familiar right number of characters on it that would have fitted your name and my heart jump. It just jump in happiness when for that one moment I thought it was you.

I thought it was you and when it was another friend of mine, my heart just drop. Just fucking stomp on it and finish the goddamn job because that false hope just hurt.

And I know if I'll call you'll answer. But seeing your facebook and how the girls that comment on their hurts too and it just finishes the job of an already broken heart because I know which ones are the ones who kissed you before and it just pushes me to leave you alone because as much as I try to think I held your heart, I wasn't the only one. Loyalty may hold no bonds with you even though you told me so many times that you're a one girl only type of guy and that you could NEVER even consider an open relationship.

And we've had our discussion about that, me going on about how it takes a special type of trust, a very insanely trust to form an open relationship but I would not considerate it, only if my partner wanted it. All our talks and how we held on as time raced by and now I'm just reminded and I want to so bad to say that 'I don't believe you...'

it looks like you've given up, you've had enough, but I want more...No I won't stop, because I just know you'll come around...right?

right?

no I don't believe you.

but it's happening. so I have to believe it.

Friends?

Sometimes I want to stop talking to you because I feel myself getting dumb down, numb down at the hopelessness of your situation.

I know that I am one of your few friends who actually care about you but must you burden me so, it's like constant 24/7 with you and I am tired. I asked you about your other friends since you have so many on facebook, knowing a 1000 people and who else were you going to invite and you invite only my social circle of friends, and only one on your part?

I fear you are leeching my friends because you can't make any of yours and I feel shitty for feeling this way because of the fact that you are a good person caught in a bad situation that has become your trap.

I was hoping the books that we read will help you and I do see progress but my patience has run out with you. I am sorry honey, but please cheer the fuck up, and start thinking positively and get up your ass for once and air out your place and you might not under the weather as you constantly are but jeez louise if I lived in your place and did not clean it like you did, I'm sure I would be constantly suffering from respiratory troubles as well.

I am angry. I am tired. I have little patience with you.

You have no idea how much you have with what little you have. I am jealous because of what little you do have, you do not take advantage of it.

If I were in your place, I would be living different lives all the time. You do not appreciate your life and I can hear you saying that there is nothing to appreciate to it but that's the problem. You are and the way you think about your life. Not your life itself.

You have no clue when was the last time I woke up and only had to take care of myself at home. I love vacations so much, traveling by myself because I wake up at the time I want to and I breathe when I realized that the only person I have to be responsible for, is myself. That is something rare for me and you have it everyday and could care less. How unfair. That is just one thing, there are so many elements to this life, to your life that you can't even appreciate even though it's right under your nose because you have not live my life or the life of someone who has to wake up every day and fight because we were born minorities, discrimination found in the face of neighbors, of entering a place like a scholarship review, a book discussion, a classroom, a gala, and knowing that the first thing people notice about you is not what you are there for, not your pretty face, not your acknowledgment as a person, but rather you are acknowledge by your race and the fact that you feel immediately that they think you do not belong there and are pity, yes fucking pitied like a lost dog because they think that you're trying, even though the majority of your race is working behind some stove or cleaning up someone else's toilets. That is labor, not the little job you so constantly bitch about which I don't get at all because seriously, you are not earning your money with the sweat off your brow. You haven't worked underneath the sun right at it's highest point. You have never worked a job that has given you calluses on your hands, you have to be constantly on your knees cleaning, and made you dog tired when you got home that you just collapse on the couch and NOT be able to get up because you are so damn sapped of everything and then you have to do it again the next day. So shut up already about it. I know what real work to bitch about is and that isn't it.

So tell me when you are complaining of having nothing to do, of being bored, do you blame me for wanting to not talk to you because of the fact that I have to try at least 6 times harder, house responsibilities riding on me, filial duties constantly at my side, work, school, and grabbing each spare minute to work on myself and hope that one day I will accomplished what fuels me. I take the blame for my patience , but honey, please for once, try to be a little considerate.

Tick Tock...

In the midst of change and thinking about major changes that will be happening in my life (riding, driving, senior year at school, grad schools, library internship, work place change, little one starting school herself)I am going to let these changes become my life. but just because the changes are happening to me doesn't mean I'm going to let them over come me and overwhelm, not anymore. In the face of change, I will make some of them myself. Making my personal goals to go parallel with them and some of these new personal goals, developments are from my part and I hope that they will keep me here and present in my life and be able to focus on the days and not just the bigger picture.

Aside from starting to jog or at least thinking about taking it up again and SOON. Like tomorrow or this week soon (it's time) I'm also starting another bookclub.

That's right another one.

No, this one won't be with my friends.

This book club is with my sister. I wrote about her before and how sometimes it feels that I don't know her anymore because sometimes I really don't. This is my effort to communicate with her and build a better connection, a better relationship with her. I don't want to leave for grad school and have an okay relationship with her. She's my sister and I should have a bond with her that is unshakable even with distances between us.

So I started a book club with her. She'll read the book first and then I'll read it, and I'm thinking of creating a small group page somewhere, just for me and her so that we can put our thoughts on it or however. I'm hoping this will work. I know she likes to read, she just doesn't do it. I have hope. I'm hoping but I'm scare this won't work. I'm scared of failing this and losing her. These are really my last days to connect with her before she gets too old and starts to disconnect from me and connect more on her friends. She's 12 now. She'll be 13 when I leave. A teenager. I don't want her to be just another sullen teen, not like me. I don't want to leave her and have her be like me. I want her to be a well adjusted person just like Tessie is for being so young and I know I had a lot to do with that but will it work again?

Moving on.

Fuck this. I woke up this morning and took a good look at myself.

I am not going to feel sorry for myself.

So what? I am stressed but I'm only making myself sick stressing more about that stress and not doing anything about it but worrying myself.

No more. I am going to do what I have to do and I will do it and I will not be wallowing in self-pity anymore.

I can do this. I know my own potential. I know my strengths and my weaknesses and I will not let my weakness overcome me, not now. Not when I'm in a crucial state of my being.

I will do what I need to be done, not because it has to be done, but for me. Because in the end, all my stress about my issues, will they benefit me and I will do it right. I will reclaim my attitude of taking over my damn world because I live it, it is my world and right now I don't like it very much. And when I get a friend, a cousin, bitching and complaining about how depress, how sad, how stress, how much they dislike their lives, I tell them: there's only one thing you can do.

And that's change it. So here we go. I'm doing this. No more poor little me's. I know how strong I am and I know my strive and what I have, I am unlimited. The only person who limits myself from achieving anything is myself, and I did that for a long time. No more. I will not limit myself for I am infinite.

July, July...

First night of the month, of my month. My birthday month. One of the months that I've been waiting on all year because it means it is summer and I am supposed to be enjoying my summer. No school, no homework, no worries till late August, and I am supposed to be happily working on my novel, and being overall cad about town with going out and having fun, misadventures with friends and such. Summer with the summer lusting.

Not this July. A day into the new month and I am not the image of what I'm supposed to be, carefree summer girl. That summer girl is gone, baby. Just gone.

I'm dying inside.

I need to be able to breathe again.

If it's not the hurt ravaging my heart, breaking it further into pieces I can't, I won't even look at to pick up, I'm numb. Numb and faking how I am every day, feeling nothing. Just numb, automatic responses on cue, and I am lying. Faking it because I am in that place where I am shocked, just numb.

But breathing, to feel any semblance of anything beyond this hurt, to break through to that I have to do something stupid or find something that will define me, if only for a few moments.

The last time I felt alive, I felt real, felt happiness, felt myself become define. I remember that too well. I don't want to remember that because it only hurts me more. It reminds me and right now I don't need to be reminded. I need to forget.


"Let's not forget ourselves, good friend. You and I were almost dead,
and he's better off for leaving, yeah he's better off for leaving..."

I fear that in a few years I will not know myself and become the living embodiment of a favorite song of mine. It's sweet to aspire to become a song in life, but it's fuck up when the song that you see yourself becoming is fucked up because it means you think you yourself are fucked up.

Fuck.

Haha, what's ironic is that if I had just stuck to doing that, I would be just fine right now.

Would I?