This entry isn't to make a rouse or try to encourage any hard feelings. I've even considered writing it in spanish, but I think that's rude. If you want to read it, then you may read it.

I have started my job. It's great really with all of these great guys around me who seem to genuinely care about my well-being. I've missed being the 'little sister' figure in the social setting. My job is to smile sweetly, flirt, and make everyone's moral go up, and it's something I like to think that I do well. I get to play the little ray of sunshine and I love it.

I'm starting to make more friends which is a relief but a burden at the same time. I don't mean to say that I don't like it, because I do. I love having people to lean on... and to have them lean on me! What an honor! I guess it's a lot harder to explain than it is to feel.

I hung out with Clayton until 2 something in the morning yesterday and we had a lot of fun. I really didn't want to go out with anyone. I had a night planned at home, but I caved at the idea of singing. We got together and we walked downtown for a while. He bought me a smoothie at Espresso Bay and we went back to my house. He played to guitar and I sang. I haven't really sang like that for a long time and I'm not as good as I once was, but it didn't matter.

After a while we decided that food was in order, so off to J & S we went. I actually ate. We talked about psychology and music.

So today when I got out of work, we both went outside so he could smoke a cigarette. I had just punched out and it was a gorgeous day out. We sat down on the curb.

"So how is Corey then?" He asked.

"He seems like he's good. We talked for a while last night." I said, fiddling with a pebble on the sidewalk.

"I heard rumors. You know. Yeah, and I saw him with another girl. Do you know about that?" He asked.

"No."

Silence.

"You know what I thought when you told me that he left you?" He chuckled somewhat nervously. "I thought 'He's crazy'. You... you're amazing. I don't even know you. We met only a few days ago and whenever I see you...." He trailed off and I looked at him. He stared straight forward and took a drag from his cigarette.

"Everytime I see you or think about you I get butterflies. I really like you. You're incredible and I can't imagine why any man would ever leave you."

I'm sure I blushed a shade to match my hair. I had a feeling since my first day there that Clayton felt something for me, but I felt I must have imagined it. I felt - feel terrible. How in the world can I let someone down like that though? How do you try to explain to someone "Sorry, but I'm not looking. There's only one person I feel I can be with." How do you explain that you're devoted to a dream?

I'm scared and sad by the fact that I will have to tell him eventually about my promise I made to myself. I am finished looking. I don't want to lose Clayton as a friend and that's what I'm scared of more than anything. I'm proud to have the friends I do and the thought of losing any of them is pretty much unbearable. I feel like I have to burn this bridge in order to build it.

My boring self will be going to bed early tonight. Andrew decided to go get drunk tonight, Andrea is busy the entire weekend, Lauren is very ill, it would be awkward to have Clayton around....

So here I sit watching G4, waiting to pass out from exhaustion.

I haven't cried today.

Last night was a great night, and I'm so glad I got to talk to you. ~Taps screen~ Yeah. You.

Damn you Phantom of the Opera.

Think of me,
think of me fondly when we've said goodbye.
Remember me once in a while,
please promise me you'll try.
When you find that once again you long
to take your heart backand be free,
if you ever find a moment,
spare a thought for me.

We never said our love was evergreen,
or as unchanging as the sea
but if you can still remember
stop and think of me.

Think of all the things we've shared and seen
don't think about the things which might have been.
Think of me. . .
think of me waking silent and resigned.
Imagine me,trying too hard to put you from my mind.
Recall those days, look back on all those times,
think of the things we'll never do
there will never be a day, when I won't think of you . . . .

It's really boring around here. Andrea called me and we talked for a while. She's having some tough times with her employment. I feel terrible for her. Let myself cry in front of her this morning (my ultimate trust bond). I think she knew how much that meant to me.

I'd be out doing something incredibly stupid and dangerous right now but I simply don't have the strength. If I could bring myself to eat, I'd do it.

I went for a long moped ride today after my pre-op appointment too. My face and hands went numb after five minutes. It was nice though. I forgot what it was like to see the town via moped. It's such a different experience than biking, walking, driving.... It's relaxing. I'm still lonely though.

I don't know where to start exactly. Today has been... the worst day of my life. My denial phase is over, and I can no longer live in that veil of ignorance. It hit me tonight when I was walking from Scholar's Hall back to my car on the other side of campus. It was right after Spanish class, and all of a sudden a downpour started. That's when I looked up to the sky and I knew. I nearly fell to my knees outside of the Library... the place where we truly first met. It broke me down. I don't know what to do anymore. I'm scared to move anywhere or do anything. What if I lose someone else? What if I hurt someone? I wouldn't be able to live with myself. I hardly can now.

Everywhere I looked today was him. When I first woke up, I opened my eyes to see Buddy (my dog I got from him on Valentine's Day) staring me right in the face. Lauren and I walked around campus and I saw Jonathon, his co-worker soon after. I saw a lot of his friends from the Magic tournaments walking all around campus. I heard what I considered to be our song on the radio before I snapped it off in pain. It's never been like this. I've never been around so much 'reminder' material. It's like fate is laughing at me in my face and it wants me dead.

Hali is a friend of mine from Spanish class. She saw that I was bothered I guess because she asked what was wrong. I ended up telling her everything. We had a talk about God and the devine plan and she asked me something that made me cry in her arms. She asked to pray for me. It made me feel so wonderful to be considered worthwhile not only in the eyes of God, but by Hali too.

Now it's my first night alone. In all honesty, although I don't want anyone near me right now, I'm so incredibly lonely. Well I lie. There are a few people I'd like to be around right now, but I:
A. Don't have their phone numbers
B. If I do have their numbers, they're just at the Kittie concert anyway
C. Very possibly don't want to be around me right now.

You know who I want to see? Jason Bishop. I want to talk about cars. He's a friendly face who treats me well.

I'm sorry I let you down, love. I love you. I will for the rest of my life. Sorry.

Lauren will be spending the night tonight.

I've been left shattered after what started out to be a great day. I love him and I always will, but I don't know if I can see him right now. I'm not sure when I'll be able to. I'm far to hurt and much too scared.

IloveyouIloveyouIloveyouIloveyouIloveyouIloveyouIloveyouIloveyouIloveyouIloveyouIloveyou
IloveyouIloveyouIloveyouIloveyouIloveyouIloveyouIloveyouIloveyouIloveyouIloveyouIloveyou, can't you see that?

We'll be playing camera whore tonight and picking up my shattered self from the food court floor.

But I find it odd.... Here I sit alone in my room with my cat by my side wearing a promise ring that promises me nothing.

Please come back to me.

I've had all of these one liners running around in my head lately that I've been meaning to incorporate into several short stories lately. I think I'm starting to get back into my 'writing swing' once again which would really explain my recent behavior. It's a relief, really.

"She laughed. 'How foolish would I look to a stranger right now? To be caught in this compromising position?'"

"I hate you Britney Noble, for inviting the perfect Jerry Swanson to your birthday party."

"I stared and stared at the ever shrinking city behind me and continued to wonder about my life."

I'm not sure how many I'll do right now, but this mood has had me in a vice-grip all day. Please know that these are all workings of my imagination. The first story was an idea I came up with long ago. The second occured to me as I was driving into the college a few days ago, but happened to be when I was about 7. The third came to me tonight as I looked over the city from my front porch, but it is a true story that I want to lay out in paper before the memory fades.

I must warn that this entry is exceedingly long.

Enjoy I suppose.

She woke up late for her first appointment that morning. At 8:30, the precise moment her first tour group was supposed to begin, her eyes flitted open. She noted he was on the couch, and an art book of Frida Kahlo's work was resting on her stomach. She stretched and begrudingly sat up after a few moments of laying in a half conscious stupor. The clock on the wall read nothing but bad news. Confused and attempting to remember what day of the week it was, she rubbed her eyes and suddenly realized the time.

"Fuck!" She yelled, scrambling off the couch and knocking her book to the floor. She bolted up the stairs to pull her black pants on and throw her black blouse over her head. Not having time to even look in the mirror, she pulled her long Sandy hair into a bun on the back of her head. She didn't bother locking the door to her apartment, knowing in the back of her mind that no one would come by to look for her anyway. She practically threw the lock off of her bike and began to ride. Luckily is was a nicer day. At the very least it wasn't raining.

She didn't bother to lock her bike either. As fast as she could, she ran up the muesem steps and ran through the doors. Her boss was standing right inside of the entry way. She glanced at her watch, then looked to her. At a loss for words, she looked down to the floor and shruged. What excuse was there to give? Her boss draped her nametag around her neck. "Your 9:30 tour group will arrive any minute. Go wait for them by France."

By France, her boss meant the french artist section. She waited patiently with her sign in her hand for clueless masses of muesem goers to huddle around and wait for her guidance. When the tour began, she snapped on her tour guide smile (the one she believes is the one that makes her the most recommended tour guide in the entire museum), followed through her movements, and didn’t even listen to herself when she recited dates and ‘interesting facts’. Her head was swimming with thoughts today.

Inside she was miserable. It was a day that she wanted to be finished with so she could go home and get some rest so she could be miserable tomorrow and do to same thing over and over again. She knew she was a pawn, but she found it difficult to care.

She led tour after tour, snapping on the adorable smile and the voice to match. Her lunch break came an hour late just as she had been. She walked a block down to the Mom and Pop kiosk to buy her usual sandwich and drink. As she looked down the row of goods, she noticed something she had never noticed before; a pack of razor blades. Without thinking or missing a beat, she took them down from the clip that held them and took them and approached the cashier.

“And a pack of Djarum Blacks.” She said. The cashier eyed her strangely. She shrugged again and handed him her money. Without waiting for her change, she walked back outside onto the busy sidewalk. She took the out of place matchbook that she kept in her purse and lit her Djarum. Clove cigarettes. She hadn’t had one since her teens.

She lingered outside to finish her cigarette, but promptly went inside. Walking quickly and efficiently, she made her way to the bathroom and locked herself inside a stall. The always busy bathroom was now strangely quiet as she found herself rolling up her sleeve to expose her pale arm. Taking one of the razors out of the pack, she lightly touched the skin near her elbow. Although she didn’t feel a thing, she saw a quick flash of crimson. She stared at it and then did something she didn’t expect to do.

She laughed.

“How foolish would I look to a stranger right now? To be caught in this compromising position?” She said aloud. She threw the razor into the feminine hygiene box that sat beside the toilet, still laughing. She dabbed at her wound and rolled her sleeve back down. She could remember the last time that she had been this happy, but it was long ago. She twirled the promise ring that she still wore around her finger; the one that no longer promised anything. Her smile was genuine, and her words were significant.

As she left the museum that evening, she noticed that her bike was no longer there. As she had forgotten to put the lock on that morning, her transportation had fallen prey to the mean city streets. This didn’t bother her. Instead, she walked home humming the theme from Carmen’s opera. As she entered her apartment, she tossed her keys to their usual place on the coffee table and smiled.

Now all there was left to do was fall asleep and wake up to be miserable in the morning.

Certainly not that great, but I wanted to atleast get some of that in hard copy before I forgot it.

Britney Noble was the biggest brat in the entire 1st grade class. Her Mommy and Daddy had a lot of money, and Britney had no problem showing this off. She would come in on show and tell days with picture of her new horses or would impress everyone with her extensive toy collection. Well, everyone except me. I seemed to be the only kid who didn't like Britney, and that made me feel like an outcast.

When my birthday came around and I got a kitten, I was excited to bring him in for show and tell. The whole class gathered around my sleeping, black, fuzzy kitten and giggled. I felt as high as the sky. Britney was not impressed. "So what?" She said. "I have dog that's cooler than that and I'll bring him to show you." Sure enough, the next week Britney's dog came in for show and tell and no one cared about my kitten anymore. It felt like war between the two of us and I hated her.

Britney's birthday was coming soon and I was surprised when I got an invitation to her party. I can't remember the gift that I got her, but I do remember hearing that Jerry Swanson was going to be there. In my 7 year old mind, there was no one better than Jerry Swanson. He was cute and funny and I was sure I was going to marry him. If I remember correctly, he was the reason I even went to the party.

Britney sat down to open gifts. She didn't like mine and as much as I tried to hide it, it ripped my heart out. She opened Jerry's later and she 'ooh'ed and 'aah'ed like it was the best gift in the world. It was a toy horse.

"I hate you Britney Noble, for inviting the perfect Jerry Swanson to your birthday party." I thought. I got up to go to the bathroom, but ended up hiding behind a china cabinet instead. I heard Britney's Mom asking where I had gone, but Britney said she didn't know. I must have stayed behind that china cabinet for atleast half an hour until Britney's Mom finally heard me sobbing. All the crying had made me sick so when I finally went to the bathroom I had a reason to be there.

When my Mom came to pick me up, I sat in the front seat and she looked at me in my little party dress and my hair done up in my black, purple, and pink barette and asked me: "Did you have fun?"

I looked up at my Mom and said: "I don't like Britney Noble very much."

That's just another silly memory I just wanted to get out for some reason. To me it seems like something that would be in Chicken Soup for the Children's Soul.

This was a pivotal moment in my life. It's mushy and kind of dumb, but it's important to me.

It was January 8th. I remember the date because just two years ago on that day, my Dad had gone sober. To celebrate, my parents decided that our family trip that year was to take a cruise around the Caribbean. I spent the whole first day investigating every inch of every floor humming "My Heart Will Go On" from Titanic. If the front of the boat wouldn't have been guarded, I would have tried flying like Rose did.

When night had fallen, I went to the open aired Promenade Deck to look out over the water. I faced West and saw Miami. I stared and stared at the further shrinking city behind me and continued to wonder about my life. I was only twelve years old but I couldn't help thinking that I would never find anyone for me, a feeling that followed me throughout my teenage years.

I looked up to the sky. The stars were brilliant. I saw Orion the warrior, the protector, standing next to the river Eridanus as the legend told and in that moment I knew that my soulmate was looking at the same stars I was looking at. I had fallen in love with an unknown man. What if he had died before I got to know him? What if he had decided to never marry? What if I never met him?

I looked over the rail to the waves below and shed a single tear. That's when I prayed. I prayed for him, whoever he was. I asked for him to be happy and healthy and for God to look out for him. I sighed after my prayer. I left the vacant deck and went the floor up to get a slushie before I went back down to our cabin.

I had a dream that night. I dreamt that I had met this faceless soulmate. I remember he was funny, but that's about all I can clearly remember.

The next day I met Carolina Salvi, a nice Argentine girl. She told me all about her country and I listened eagerly. We spent everyday together on that cruise, and I promised her that one day I would go to Argentina to see her and to see what it was like. In return, she promised that I would have a place to stay with her. Call me crazy, but I still think about her.

But more than anyone I think about that faceless man I fell in love with that night.

I'm sorry it's so damned long. It's a wretched entry with nothing of much interest to report on. It was just free write time, and now I feel completely renewed. Thanks for letting me bare-all.

Hi, God.

So.... why is this so tough for me? I wish I had strength to get through the day without thinking there is something wrong with me. I would fix it if I had your help. I just wish I knew what needs fixing.

Help me in my days to become that better person. I want to be someone suitable for this man that I love so dearly. Please calm this storm that is raging in my heart right now. I love him. And this hypocrit can't help but be scared of the unknown, even though the entry she wrote a short while ago suggested to just relax.

You'll never really know the sincerity behind this when I say....

Help me.

UPDATE AS OF 8:17 PM- I am beginning my medication tomorrow. If I remember correctly, they started working in near full effect by 3 pm. I can't treat anyone like this with all these mood swings. It's time for me to take responsibilty for my actions. I AM AN ADULT, so I need to act like one.

I want to apologize to everyone who has been a victim of my manic wrath. You'll quickly see that that person isn't me.

*******

It seems like the melting snowbanks are coughing up everything that it had consumed over the winter. Primary blue hair bands. During a walk today throughout all of the downtown region with my beloved, I counted 5 blue hair ties. While walking from my car into Scholar's Hall I saw two. All of them blue. Is blue an 'in vogue' color? Is it symbolism that this life story of mine is playing out? Perhaps it's a sign from God that I should grow out my hair again? Maybe it's nothing and my overactive imagination is getting the better of me?

I'm tired and hungry. I've forgotten to eat today and now I'm shaking terribly. I'd go home to eat, but class is going to start is 30 minutes and seeing as I'm already at the college with a prime parking spot, leaving would be silly. I'd go get food, but I have conveniently forgotten to leave my credit card and check book at the house too. For better comprehension; I'm fucked. I'll probably try to get out of class early. I'm a waste of space in Spanish anyway.

After today, I think I've decided to go on my medication again (great time to decide to do it, seeing as my health insurance premium goes up very soon). I'm constantly paranoid that something bad is going to happen, and this is a feeling I'd rather live without. Granted, I have hard times. Whatever. So does everybody else in the world. I'm not special and I should give others the respect that they deserve.

Ever since that god awful dream I had I'm worried about being left. My promise still stands that if this relationship doesn't work out, I am done looking. I am positive that there isn't anyone else in the world I would ever be truly happy with than him. It gives me a nervous excited feeling.

Oh yeah and you... *taps his screen* I want to let you know something.

About the baby thing and not wanting to wait. I was wrong. I did a lot of soul searching with this subject. A baby is final and there's no returning it. Do I still want one? Yeah, but not yet. I've.... we've got a good thing going and that wouldn't be a good situation to bring upon ourselves. I love you sir and I respect your wishes.

In regards to the future thing too. You seem to not want to talk about it anymore and that's fine too. I think that's what has got me worried. Nah, not really I guess. I want you to be happy.

Oh and it's not that I don't want to talk about this in person, it's just that I don't know when we'll see each other again. Augh, there go my butterflies.

I hope to hear from you on Tuesday? If not, I'll see ya Wednesday for our movie. ^_^* I love you.

Signing off. Chau gente.

Oh my god I didn't mean it. I want to live. I want to live for so many reasons. I want to live for the mornings that I wake up with Poogle Buddy in my arms and tears rolling down my face. I want to live for the daily text message that says a simple good morning. I want to live for the smiles, the frowns, the tears.... everything.

I am in love and I live for him.

An explanation... in all honesty I've just woken up from a terrible, terrible dream. You know the kind of dream you see in movies, then when the person wakes up, they swear they'll change their life and treat people better? That's the one. It was a dream so real that I'm still not sure if it happened or not (I pray to God above that it didn't).

No no no no no no no no no. I can't believe how selfish and childish I was acting yesterday. Please God, help me make everything better.

I wrote this to my mother today.... I never sent it.

I am exceptionally upset, and the current situation is dragging out all of these thoughts and feelings I’d so much rather keep to myself. It’d be easier on everybody else.

I thought out of everyone you'd understand how hard it is for me to find employment right now. I AM looking and it feels like no one even cares about my effort. I'm tired. I’m not sleeping. My grades are awful. I'm stressed. I don't want to be in college anymore, but I'm a failure if I stop. What would your family think of me then?

I hate this lifestyle that I have. It's not me. I don't want to be living in this nice neighborhood with a view of the bay. I don't want to be a perfect family on the outside but inside I feel like I'm tearing it apart for speaking my mind, having an opinion, and expressing emotions. I feel terrible for it. Every day I catch myself thinking we were so much happier when we lived in simplicity with that small 3 bedroom ranch. I know I was just happier in general. Like I said; this house that I live in is not my home, and I want to be out as soon as possible. Our lives together as a family isn't about extravagance

And that’s the reason I want to move out so soon. I’m not happy here. I don’t know why but I’m feeling like I’m constantly on a stage and if I make the wrong move I’m in trouble. I’m sure that once I’m out of the house it’ll be a lot easier financially too. Trust me, this job isn’t just for me, nor has it ever been. Now I’m scared that my unemployment is making me seem like a lazy girl… the judgment I’m so terrified to face.

I couldn't tell her anything like that. It would break her heart, would it not? No, no. Best keep it to myself.

My heart is sinking at the very thought of Corey's birthday. Bad gifts etc, etc, etc. His birthday party that I wasn't even aware of until yesterday. I'm breaking apart slowly and throwing the discarded bits out to sea.

You know I was thinking this while driving home:

Money wouldn't be so tight if I were dead.

I wouldn't need surgery if I were dead.

I wouldn't be hurting anyone else if I were dead.

My parents would have a considerably simpler life if I were dead.

My professors would have a lighter load if I were dead.

I wouldn't have to bother quitting or getting fired if I were dead.

Corey loves me and I love him beyond belief, but he wouldn't have to deal with so much bullshit if I were dead.

...But he's the reason I'm still alive.

I do love him. Very much. My life without him would become a void, simply put. I would not exist if it weren't for him.

It's just the fact that I am coming to the realization that I am done looking for the love of my life. Although I don't know when it'll happen, I'm pseudo counting down the days until I get an engagement ring on my finger. I looked down at my promise ring in the shower yesterday and gasped, finally becoming fully aware of what and how quickly it had happened.

In all honesty I think I'm scared. More than anything I'm scared to hurt this wonderful man who would give me everything if I asked for it. A relationship is a two way street. Love can't come from a single side, nor does it. There are days though where I look at him and think that he could never love me to the extent of how much I love him. The very next day I will catch myself thinking 'Wow, he does love me. I'm not sure if my love for him could even compete against the love he has for me.'

One thing is glaringly obvious on both our behalves. If this relationship goes sour, there is no more trying. No more searching. This is it, and I think this places unnecessary stress on both of us. At this point both him and I are so afraid of losing our other half that if even the slightest bump disrupts us, we go into hyper-sentive-slash-defensive-slash-anger-slash-depression mode. I'm tired of this mode. I'm tired of having to watch my step. I'm not doing anything wrong, but neither is he. We both just need to relax.

We both just need to get laid for that matter.

While doing my depressive float earlier tonight (when I wander aimlessly from room to room, nitpicking at the flaws in the paintjob or dust in the corner), I mulled all of these things over. I was leaning in the bathroom doorway when I let out a pained gasp and clentched my left hand over my right forearm. It felt warm and it throbbed in unison with my heart.

I was afraid to lower my eyes to see what might be wrong. I expected blood, and lots of it. I closed my eyes, expecting the worst and hearing the words of disappointment come from his mouth. Slowly I removed my hand to see the damage that I had surely dealt to myself.

Nothing.

There wasn't a drop of blood to be seen. No scratches or bruises. The pain vanished as quickly as it had come. I wonder if I'm getting phantom nerve pain in my arms.

I love you, sir, and there is not a day that goes by that I wouldn't rather be at your side than anywhere else in the world. You are my soulmate, the love of my life, mi mitad de naranja, and I will never let you go.