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Dec. 12th, 2009

Venice

amazing

want to know the amazing, best part? Walking to my car today to go pick up Shree so we could see New Moon, only to cross the street and have Sam Cross be hanging out of a car, yelling my name. It proved to me, just a little bit more, that maybe he likes me and I'm not as crazy as I would have thought.

Nov. 19th, 2009

Venice

what the hell

so, apparently these things always happen in twos. Two guys. Always. Two completely perfect, amazingly good looking (in my opinion) guys. First, there's Keegan. I really like Keegan and we get along well. We have english together and have a lot in common. We picked up lunch together today and I was the happiest I've been in a while. But, then I went to chem and was reminded of Sam. Sam who is smart and intense and makes my heart pound. I don't know him too well, but I know that I have some sort of attraction to him. It all escalated today, though. After hanging out with Keegan today, I had to go to chem later where I told my friends of the latest developments, which was where Sam spoke to me, and caught my eye, and smiled and shit several times during that lab. It was like he heard me talking and wanted me to know how he felt. I'm probably overreacting. I always am. But it's been tormenting me. Because I can't help but think of them, and wonder what I'll do. I don't know. But I can't help but think of beautiful, intense Sam.

Nov. 16th, 2009

Venice

strange

Want to know what's strange? Looking at a picture of someone who at one point in time used to be such a huge part of my life. Now, when I look at this person, this man I used to be in love with, I don't even recognize him. His face looks too familiar, like even when I see it 50 years from now I'll know it right away, and know all of the feelings that seeing it used to incite. But now he seems to be a stranger to me, like I don't know who he is anymore. How could it be that this man I imagined myself being with for the rest of my life seem like such a stranger to me now. I know his face but I don't know who he is now. I miss that familiarity. I don't miss the past, because it was all wrong, but I miss that comfort and the heart-stopping excitement and every ounce of love I used to feel. I miss that feeling more than anything. I want to feel those emotions that have been dormant for so long. I want the companionship that comes with those feelings, the trust and respect and insane lust. I want to know what being wanted feels like. I've gone too long not knowing, and now I don't know if I'll ever feel it. Even now, when I get talked to and looked at, I still feel all of those insecurities that should have dissipated long ago. I want that earth-shattering love, the love that inspires novels and movies. It's probably not possible, though. But I want it. I want it so badly.

Jun. 28th, 2009

Venice

great awakening

Truthfully, I've been doing a lot of thinking lately. Lots and lots of thinking. Really, I have been bitter about my time in high school, which is justified. I find nothing wrong with being bitter about it, I do not regret high school, because it brought me to my friends, but I am bitter about my lack of love life. However, going back on everything that happened, I realized that some of my bitterness wasn't justified. I was bitter at how I could have been so naive--so stupid!--to think that because I thought I had seen the signs, that obviously meant that Michael, coach Michael at my gym, liked me; even loved me.  

However, thinking back, and going over my past events, I realized that it wasn't my fault that all of this happened.  I had been blaming myself for wasting my time chasing after someone who wasn't chasing back.  Going back, though, I realized that the reason I felt this way was because, it it's purest sense, Michael was leading me on.  Regardless of whether he liked the attention, or maybe even what I feel sometimes when I think someone likes me: the feeling of being wanted.  But truthfully, I don't know what caused him to act like that.  But as I realized this, the fact that Michael led me on all those years, I no longer felt angry and bitter at myself.  I realized that after all that, after my still trying to be friends with him, that it was practically pointless because he's not going to change.  He will not stop wanting that attention and letting other girls think they can have him.  That's why he started hanging out with Christine.  He cannot bear the fact that someone can like him as a friend, but not want him in a sexual sense.  He, himself, is convinced that I will always want him.  

I, however, disagree.  I think it is so ingrained in my self-conscious that I wanted him all those years, that it automatically is my first thought, "if Michael does this," and I have to remind myself that I don't want him; but the thought always comes first!  Even when I look at him and wonder what I saw in him, the "Michael" thought always comes first.  And I don't want it to be that way; I have given up on him, and I have decided that what he did to me, that heartbreak I felt, is not my fault.  It's his.  Although, even if I told him this, he would deny it.  He would say it's not his fault and how dare I blame him.  But he cannot always shoo the fault away from him.  He always points his finger at me, saying I can't put this on others, and that's true.  But in this situation, it's all him.  His leading me on, and then telling me--TELLING ME!--that he loves me, saying those damn words, "I love you" as he tells me he is dating my friend is unforgivable, and I forgave him!  I always forgave him because I was just too forgiving, and too naive, and too much of everything else that is common in young girls.  

Well, that won't happen anymore.  Although, now we aren't even talking, and he makes up excuses why he can't talk to me, when they are all crap.  I can't always be the one to branch out and go to him, because that's not fair to me.  It should be his responsibility too if he really wants to talk to me.  Truthfully, after all of this, I don't know if I even care anymore.  It's all over, and I can't go back.  I can learn from it though; learn and grow and no longer regret and feel that anger and betrayal.  It's my life, and I shouldn't live it in regret, not at all.  

 

Mar. 6th, 2009

Venice

Really?

Okay, so I originally had a livejournal that I kept for years, and then I realized how much I didn't want to keep my original name, elvengirl, bacause it reminds me far too much of being Lord of the Rings obsessive in 7th grade.  That, and, my old journal was filled purely with my thoughts on the guys I liked, which seemed very middle school of me.  Especially because I'm starting college this fall, and I think that writing a blog would be a good outlet for me, especially when I can't think, or I want something to do besides read.  

I pretty much decided that I want to use this as a journal/notebook for my ideas, because I have learned that I pretty much suck at writing long stories unless I plan them out really well, and short stories for me have always been so easy.  On the bright(er) side, I am good at editing, which is sort of a back up career for me if I don't end up going to med school/doing medical research etc.  Of course, I have that weird desire to want to wear scrubs, which is probably really lame, but I still think scrubs are ridiculously awesome if they aren't the lame patterened/flare pants/"look at me, I'm a scandalous doctor!" type.

Beyond that, I've learned that the kids in my government class have decided that they want to announce that I have been making out with (insert random student name here) every day, even though I have done none of the sort.  In fact, I've never kissed anyone.  There is someone I like, but he's a little more than a year younger than I am...and he probably doesn't like me that way.  Of course, I haven't had much luck with guys, anyway.  

On the bright side, of sorts, I have one of my last meets coming up this weekend.  It's not that I don't like competing gymnastics, it's just that it can get so tedious, and I want to start running and doing other sports that don't require boundaries, such as running and riding my bike.  Of course, it doesn't help that my skin is so pale it's practically translucent, so I need to wear bucco (aka, huge, large, intense) amounts of sunscreen to keep that creamy pale color the same.  Not to mention, I love that creamy pale color to death.  It makes me different compared to all of those other random Scottsdale/Los Angeles/New York glamorous and tan girls that all go to my school.  And they all have blond hair.  I swear, looking at the cheer pictures, about nine-tenths of those girls are bottle blonds.  I like my brown hair, thank-you-very-much.  

That's really it for now, beyond that.  I want to do some reading before I leave for gym because I may not get home until 10:45 tonight because of my stupid job.  

A
Venice

December 2009

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