Advanced Global Personality Test Results Extraversion 56% Stability 16% Orderliness 33% Accommodation 76% Interdependence 16% Intellectual 56% Mystical 43% Artistic 63% Religious 56% Hedonism 56% Materialism 56% Narcissism 63% Adventurousness 43% Work ethic 50% Self absorbed 10% Conflict seeking 56% Need to dominate 56% Romantic 63% Avoidant 63% Anti-authority 63% Wealth 30% Dependency 83% Change averse 70% Cautiousness 70% Individuality 56% Sexuality 50% Peter pan complex 43% Physical security 56% Physical Fitness 44% Histrionic 70% Paranoia 83% Vanity 23% Hypersensitivity 83% Female cliche 43%

Take Free Advanced Global Personality Test
personality tests by similarminds.com

I woke up today at 1:00 pm EST to an empty house.

Last night seems like a terrible memory. One I'd really rather forget. It's all very silly really - the entire set-up of the story. Describing the setting of situation has to be my downfall as a writer. To me, it always sounds so juvinile and foolish.

But I digress.

I was sitting on my black bean bag chair much too close to the television. I had a crick in my neck. I decided to plug in my GameCube and beat down some Ganondorfs, Bowsers, and the occasional team Capitain Falcon. With my father behind me on the couch, I played my game while he made smart ass comments about my deaths.

The comments quickly ended. He was passed out behind me on the sofa. Something had to have been wrong.

My mother violently shook him awake. The light provided by the combined effort of our television and christmas tree revealed a drunken face I was all too familiar with.

I was beyond words. The pain reflected in my mother's eyes. I felt like hitting him with everything I had. I wanted to kill him to causing the pain to my mother. I wanted to run upsairs and cry. I did just that.

My mother came into my room and handed me a note. It asked him to move out. The note told of a sad situation that never seems to get better.

Drunk. Again.

Mom crying. Again.

Me having to console her. Again.

I was done. I left the house and went for an angry drive. A drive I'm all to familiar with.

That leads into waking up at 1:00 pm EST.

I pulled on my typical pair of jeans and the obvious threadless t-shirt and trudged slowly down the stairs. My every footstep echoed in the large, empty living room. Searching the floors, doors, and tables for any clue as to where my parents may have gone. I found a note of the kitchen counter.

Steph:

Rehab is nothing more than a motel where they send you to a bunch of AA meetings.

I'm checking into dive motel and going to plenty of meetings and seeing Mary.

I was just stupid enough to think that I could 'have a drink', I can't.

I know I can quit, I did it before and I will do it again.

I'm sorry for my stupidity and ask for your understanding.

You will see me because I will have to stop by the house for certain items throughout the week I'll be walking a lot etc..

Mom loves me enough to know what I have to do. It's sad but sometimes life sucks.

Don't forget to take the trash down Wednesday morning and water that Christmas tree!

Please destroy this letter. After this week I just want this to be a bad memory.

I love you both enough to get through this and be a stronger person next weekend.

Dad

**As you can see, the grammar and punctuation is wretched. Obviously not my writing. I have recreated the letter without adding my insight, tweaks, or corrections.**

I don't think I'll destroy it. Perhaps I will. Perhaps I'll go smoke a cigarette and burn a whole right through the mother fucker.

I feel as if that letter made things worse. It's a double standard. "Rehab is nothing more than a motel where they send you to a bunch of AA meetings. I'm checking into a dive motel and going to plenty of meetings and seeing Mary."

Then why not go into rehab? That's what it is, no? You've explained the situation twice.

You rotten asshole.

I hate you. I hate you beyond what I've ever felt for any human being. I hope you die realizing that I will never love you and cherish you like I ever used to. Although it's a dramatically overused cliche that holds no meaning to the majority of people in this wretched world, believe me that I feel so deeply in every sylable to tell you:

You are dead to me.

I'm very frustrated with everything that's going on. I think I've counted five...? Yes five.

Then there are these lovely finals coming up, which I'm really not worried about at all. There is this annotated biliography that I'm not too stoked about doing because of my complete lack of clue as to what I actually have to do. It's due tomorrow... and I detest my professor.

Last night when coming up my front porch after work, I slipped on the ice, fell down 4 steps and landed on the right side of my hip. I have bruised the hip bone.

I want to talk to Steph... but I don't want to burden her. She's really my closest friend, but we seem to be drifting apart. I'm afraid I've done something. I love her dearly and I hope she realizes that.

I scraped my hand up pretty nicely at work.

I really don't know if I have enough money to make my Mastercard payment AND this month's car payment. My next car payment is due in 12 days.

When Jesse schedules me at work, he tends to schedule me when I have class, making me scramble, beg, and plead for someone to take my shift.

I never seem to be getting enough sleep anymore.

Hm, it's seems I've got 99 problems and my bitch IS one....

I wish I could fall off the face of the earth for a little while. Maybe if I get a little bit of time to think it will get all better? Eh whatever. The Thursday concert with Zavy was AMAZING. The last set was so touching I almost cried. My mouth was agape the entire time and I wouldn't be surprised that I looked like a complete tool.

I've got to try with my essay. I'll be heading out now.

I can take the rain on the roof of this empty house
That don’t bother me
I can take a few tears now and then and just let them out
I’m not afraid to cry every once in a while
Even though going on with you gone still upsets me
There are days every now and again I pretend I’m ok
But that’s not what gets me

What hurts the most
Was being so close
And having so much to say
And watching you walk
And never knowing
What could have been
And not seeing that loving you
Is what I was tryin’ to do

It’s hard to deal with the pain of losing you everywhere I go
But I’m doin’ It
It’s hard to force that smile when I see our old friends and I’m alone
Still Harder
Getting up, getting dressed, livin’ with this regret
But I know if I could do it over
I would trade give away all the words that I saved in my heart
That I left unspoken

What hurts the most
Is being so close
And having so much to say
And watching you walk away
And never knowing
What could have been
And not seeing that loving you
Is what I was trying to do