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misstracilee's LiveJournal:
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| Monday, April 9th, 2007 | | 5:00 am |
The crazy is subsiding...for now...
When did I get this earth mother calming goodness? Nevermind I shouldn't question the goodness but just do a bell kick out of happiness over it all. Well, I'M calm(er). It's like the moment one person gets balanced, to a reasonable degree, someone else is off. My best girl is going through some issues that sound impossibly similar to a few of my recent ones and my boy is slowly crawling out of a funk that I alternately coached him through and then made worse. I think it was just the lack of overt response that makes me frustrated, as in, I'm doing all this work and it's for your benefit and you acknowledge that it's there and helping, but then you don't do a damn thing in return. And then I take my three steps back, erasing the newly imprinted good works and replacing them with nagging and irritation. Although to be honest, that's only been on occasion. But the fact stands that I have those urges and it's only for so long that I can keep them in check. However, after an awesome Friday out with friends and one another I can feel the normalcy in his moods coming back and although I prefer to be absent rather than having to tiptoe when he's so unresponsive, I'm glad I can roll him over to give me room. So...normalcy for now. I would like to state that we're not nearly as dysfunctional as it may seem, I just never write when I'm blissful. | | Tuesday, March 13th, 2007 | | 9:52 pm |
Tempering the crazy within.
Thanks to Katie, I am finally calm. I don't know I just had a complete freak-out moment, complete with hysterical sobbing and smeared eyeliner. How tragicoemo circa 2000. I was definitely overreacting, but after behaving like an insane bitch with no witnesses, I finally got that dirty work out of the way. And then I came to a conclusion. I don't have to like Charlie's girl friends. It's silly of me not to, as every single one of them that I've met has been adorable, funny and just plain cool and I actually do like them all, but I'm drawing the line at Danielle. Why Danielle? I don't even know her. And her myspace is private, so I can't spy and draw conclusions. But, the fact that she was once a "flavor of the month" as Charlie so aptly put it, coupled with the fact that she seems to need to talk to him (despite having her own circle of friends in her own state to vent to) and the unforgivable fact that I've seen a cutesy picture of the two of them has made me decide to hate the filthy little slut. Irrational? Oh yes. Oh my yes. There's no point except that I don't like that she was in his past and don't appreciate her constant contact and am less than thrilled Charlie has to be a good friend and be her shoulder to cry on. God, all this makes me sound like a bitch but dammit, I still don't have to like her and it'll be a cold day in hell before I do. I've gone through this bizarre dislike of his female friends before, I think I was jealous of Erin for a bit and despised the very mention of Katrina for sometime, but I really, really hate Danielle. For no damn good reason. More likely than not, I hate what she represents: the stream of faceless skanks he hooked up with forever and a day ago. I guess there's no point in actually hating her, if she is just another inconsequential faceless skank, but it's so easy to hate the puffy face to the name, so there it is. I am everything I never wanted to be. Paging "Mean Girls"! | | Wednesday, October 4th, 2006 | | 1:56 pm |
Oi.
Long talk with Charlie last night. I think...I think I finally understand his reasoning. It might not be the way I would've thought to handle things, but I sort of get it. I'm still very, very sad that we aren't together right now, especially after it was made abundantly clear yesterday that we don't have the slightest clue how to be "just friends", and I love him to pieces, but hearing him tell me that he really, really misses me but needs to get his head straight about Life, the Universe, and Everything made me feel a little more at peace. Not quite so emotionally volatile or crazy. I told him that his mom asked me if he and I were going to get back together (I left out the part of his mom saying she wanted us to get married) and he says that while he misses me everyday, he wants to make sure that he's not going to fall back into "old habits" and hurt me anymore, and if we are to get back together, it has to be from something more than him just missing me. I'm not waiting for him. Or rather, I'm not going to wake up every morning expecting this to be the morning that he calls me asking forgiveness and proferring a diamond ring. However, it makes me quietly hopeful for the future because sometimes you just know that you belong with someone. No one is really perfect for anyone, but some of us fit each other best. And I think he knows that. Current Mood:  calm | | Friday, September 29th, 2006 | | 1:27 pm |
Far away The ship is taking me far away Far away from the memories Of the people who care if I live or die Starlight I will be chasing the starlight Until the end of my life I don't know if it's worth it anymore Hold you in my arms I just wanted to hold You in my arms My life You electrify my life Let's conspire to ignite All the souls that would die just to feel alive But I'll never let you go If you promised not to fade away Never fade away Our hopes and expectations Black holes and revelations Our hopes and expectations Black holes and revelations Hold you in my arms I just wanted to hold You in my arms Far away The ship is taking me far away Far away from the memories Of the people who care if I live or die And I'll never let you go If you promise not to fade away Never fade away Our hopes and expectations Black holes and revelations Our hopes and expectations Black holes and revelations Hold you in my arms I just wanted to hold You in my arms I just wanted to hold | | Sunday, September 17th, 2006 | | 10:26 am |
Dear Charlie,
This isn't working for me. Not talking to you is driving me insane. Anytime I see something that makes me smile, I want to tell you. Anytime something is really annoying, I want to vent to you. Yesterday was the longest day of my life and then I saw two little girls running around at the Block at the movie theaters, playing "pretend" and all I wanted to do was let you know. I saw someone that looked like you: same build, slightly military haircut, same coloring, tattoo peeking out of a shirt sleeve and I froze in my tracks and did a double take. It took a second longer than normal to see that it was someone else, but he gave me the same sort of questioning look that you've given me and, even though he wasn't you and it didn't matter that he had his arm around another girl, the lump rose in my throat. The movie I saw just wrenched my chest into further knots as everyone onscreeen was happy, then fucked it up, and then tried to either work it out or just ran away from it. The stupid little things the characters did with each other made me cry, the cutesy stuff, because I never noticed how much I love spending time in your room, just lying there, laughing. I figured today I wouldn't be able to cry, that surely by NOW I'd have no tears left, but they well up every now and then and I have to fight to keep them from spilling over. I tried reading a book, one of my favorite frothy "chick lit" books, but the Nick character reminded me so much of you, the breezy dialogue reminded me of us, I couldn't do that. And thinking that maybe you don't want to talk to me again like we do is killing me. Because I can't be your friend. You are one of my best friends, but the emotions tied up in our relationship will prevent anything platonic (which is different from apathetic or lethargic) from happening. You want to know why I can't be your friend? Because someday, probably sooner than later, I will have to watch you replace me. And I can never do that. | | Saturday, September 16th, 2006 | | 7:06 pm |
Today's decision.
I hate people looking at me. In "that" way. You know what I mean. I was at Dave and Buster's (a move that proved to be fatal on so many levels) and made two solo trips to the bathroom. Along the way I was pretty much raped by several sets of eyes. Not to mention the catcalling and comments. I felt like throwing up. This morning, while going for a run, the same thing happened. And this isn't a new occurence. All of my problems stem from others thinking I'm attractive. Why, even the one that I love, who continues to call me beautiful as often as he can, doesn't know if he wants to be with me and leads me to wonder: what does beauty achieve? Disgust, self-loathing, and heartache. And while I have serious doubts about my own beauty, it is in the eye of the beholder, no one hates me like me, I have decided to campaign against what others percieve to be beautiful in me. Really, I want to be invisible. Lighter than air. Undetectable. I don't want anyone to see me anymore. | | 7:02 pm |
Shoot me in the fucking head. Please. | | Wednesday, August 9th, 2006 | | 1:04 pm |
I had a perfect day last week.
It was perfect. Charlie and I went to Laguna Beach and it was the most fun I had had in ages. Beautiful weather, beautiful area, too many beautiful peoplem and my beautiful love. Did I mention it was beautiful? We swam, took a walk, marveled at the shorefront property and how everyone in Laguna is thin. Probably the crowning detail of the day was that we took his dad's convertible to make the trip and I sound like a hick when I say this, but I've never ridden in one, so it made me all the more giddy. I really do love him. And no, he hasn't said so, but he did let me know that everyday he sees me I am more beautiful than the day before. [insert girly sigh here] | | Wednesday, July 19th, 2006 | | 12:21 pm |
Another Uncontrollable Crying Jag
It can't be helped. I'm trying to get everything under control before Katie gets here and then we face the world. That is, the world that will be present at the O.C. Fair. But the urge to release some primal, animalistic scream (as opposed to coolly and civilly typing out rage, frustration, hopelessness, fury, etc. nice and neat as you would have it, in black and white) is almost overwhelming. It snakes up my throat and chokes me, I want to open my mouth and scream until everything shatters into pieces because this PRESSURE and STRESS is crushing me flat and it's not fair that I have to keep it inside. Because one side is right, I am wrong but only to an extent, and that extent is defined only within their rules and why the FUCK do I still have to be abiding so closely to themfoiurw'8hgtohjt3p0vg - It takes a lot of pressure to turn coal into diamonds. But I don't think every lump of coal subjected to several tons of pressure, over an extended period of time, are transformed into a sparkly, rare, luminous gem. I think the majority of which would be crushed into dust. Worthless specks of dust. | | 8:55 am |
I'm so stressed out I really wish I had some self-destructive obsessive-compulsive behavior that would keep my mind off of things. | | Wednesday, July 12th, 2006 | | 1:24 am |
Yes. That was a miracle.
The strangest feeling you'll ever have is standing outside the emergency room with a close childhood friend, hearing him describe how his brother (and, in that sense of togetherness, your brother)is moments away from death. From never waking up again. All you can think of is the stupid things. Like that Easter he wore all white linen and sandals and was sporting a beard with his long hair, and you joked that he was going to walk across the pool to join you. Or how, when you were really little, he was explaining how the South could've won the Civil War if they had had more money, supplies, and manpower and you retorted that's exactly what wins wars. Or the time you two and his brother (the one who telling you that the other's currently dying) were camping and made termite-infested lean-tos in the woods, collected stray arrows from the archery set-up, and proclaimed yourselves the lost members of a forgotten Indian tribe. Not too mention the constant havoc you wreaked on their neighbors with the homemade catapult. Or the Warcraft II extravaganza with the six computers. Or that time when you three were at the boys' grandfather's funeral, and were too young to really grasp what was going on, and played hide and seek in the cemetary. And you wonder, "Is anyone going to play hide and seek at his funeral?" And suddenly, he is snapped back to life. Precariously. But it's life. And it's overwhelming. | | Tuesday, July 11th, 2006 | | 3:02 pm |
| | Tuesday, July 4th, 2006 | | 12:15 am |
I'm still such an insecure girl.
I pretend to be confident. Sometimes I really think I am. But one little snippy comment from a meritless, jealous, drunk and I go into a frenzied self-criticism. As if any of us, with all of our oh-so-obvious flaws, could really throw that first stone. Maybe if I didn't subcumb to eating disorders so easily. I made a throwaway joke about bulimia last night and Charlie, not hearing me correctly, asked, "You have bulimia?" It sort of froze me for a moment before I gathered my wits and repeated what I had actually said and then the moment passed. I don't think I do. Wouldn't it be an everyday thing? Because it's NOT, I ate three friggin' meals today and kept all of it down. Surely that must count for something. (Besides calories that did not need to be consumed.) I want to be healthier, I want to lose weight for the sake of my self-esteem and overall fitness, but I don't know how to do it right, without hurting myself. I'm going to try, but every time I do, it spirals out of control and horribly wrong. Getting rid of it is so easy. Ridiculously so. | | Friday, June 23rd, 2006 | | 12:44 pm |
I get sad sometimes. I don't know why. I just do. And I am right now. Very, very, very sad. | | 12:45 am |
Please. Please. Pleeeeeease. Please? PLEASE! That's all I hear. It's the romance. It wants to be left out. Begging, pitifully, on its little bony knees. It reasons with me, points out that I am always more comfortable in love. It tells me I would rather believe the one I love is the stars in my sky, the apple of my eye, the syrup on my pancakes than go out and party 'til I drop. I've played the party of carefree party girl for so long, and so convincingly, that I've almost adapted that persona for myself. Wild, crazy, fun, adventurous, yes these are all valid characteristics. But I'm no urban party monster. No. I write poetry on my skin, hoping that the ink will sink in and the words and rhymes and phrases will course through my veins. I don't see shapes in clouds, but rather I see portraits. If it were possible, I would make friends with the characters in the books I have perused so many times that the pages are yellowing and weakened. I am a romantic. Color me Byron, Shelley, Poe and Dickinson. Emily, not Charlotte, Bronte. Van Gogh. I want to believe, whole-heartedly, in fantastical pseudo-myths of an all encompassing love. No. I have to. Because I can feel it calling me. | | Sunday, June 18th, 2006 | | 8:23 pm |
A Week of No Charlie Means...
...I don't know. I can't say adventure, as he provides enough adventure for, well, the both of us. But it will be a visit back to a slightly wilder time. No, no nothing crazy is going to happen. I don't think. I AM going to be spending copious amounts of time at work and, consequently, co-workers which means Dave and Buster's which means pool and liquor and dancing and...okay craziness. Add in the fact that a former co-worker/flame of mine found me on myspace and is insisting that we hang out soon (Not in "that" manner. I should think my "in a relationship" plus multiple pictures in which the bf is featured would be enough of a sign) and that kid is ALWAYS up to no good and therefore is a bounty of fun. And of course, the lovely Katie Flynn. YES. | | Saturday, June 17th, 2006 | | 7:57 pm |
| | Thursday, June 15th, 2006 | | 1:12 am |
I am actually going to see the ex-girlfriend, IN THE FLESH, this Friday. I'm intrigued. This chick is reaching fuckin' mythical status, she's a legend, goddammit! So, being the fuckin' girl that I am, I must look good. Gooooood. As in, "Hey everybody! Come see how gooood I look!" Ha ha, oh girls. | | Tuesday, June 13th, 2006 | | 4:59 pm |
I did a stupid, stupid thing.
I read his ex-girlfriend's blogs. All of them. Ohhhhhhhh that is NOT a good idea. Particularly when feeling insecure, moody and super PMS-y. Note to self: Never, ever, EVER do that again. EVER. And certainly do not cross-reference her blogs with his cause you will not feel better. AT ALL. But, I'm over that, just a stupid girl thing to do and now I'm with my bestie and we're going to get food. And I'm going to see my love tonight. Because he is. And I love him so much. It's one of those impractical, all-encompassing, fearless loves. Or...it could be. Once I get over my fears. God, the possibilities are endless. | | Thursday, June 8th, 2006 | | 2:08 pm |
My head still hurts, but I'm working on it.
Now I think I'm making up my headaches, willing them into existence. But more likely it's a cocktail of dehydration, too much caffiene (and the consequential withdrawal from said drug now that I've eased off), odd sleeping hours, recent stress and the introduction of birth control (ie: more hormones) into my system. My solution? Drink a fuckload of water and sleep more. Try not to take too much aspirin. Eh. We'll see. Anyways, after recieving a text from Charlie, my recent quasi-doubts are alleviated. I really do miss him seemingly every moment we're not together and not in the obsessive "what is he doing now?" way, but more of a wistful, I wish I could see him regularly (when neither one of us are exhausted, stressed out, or rushed) hope. I'm starting to get a little frustrated with the way I look again. I had recently lost a little weight but now it appears that it's back, so I've taken to random bouts of exercising during the day. Like, if I'm watching TV, I do sit-ups straight through the commercial breaks. You'd be surprised how long that can be. This is boring, thought-organizing entry. But I need those sometimes. |
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