No Title Given
I went out today to see Scream 3. Finally, considering how long it has been out. If I had been by my self, I would have been scared out of my mind. Good thing I wasn't, since I had come with Stephen's family. It wasn't all that scary to me, especially when Stephen would burst out laughing at the bloodiest parts, because he can actually see the scenes for being as corny as they really are.
It's sad that someone like Stephen is now having trouble with his relationship with Jennifer. She's turning out to not be what she had seemed. And I know in some warped way I could compare their relationship problems to my own recently failed attempt, but I don't really want to put too much thought in as to who represents me in their relationship. I'm afraid of being the bad person. And I don't want to sit here and realize it was me. But maybe I can give Stephen the advice that Jennifer may be no longer worth it, if she insists on acting like she has.
I am dead tired. And it's been a month today that I've been limping along with a broken heart. And Alan never got back to me, so I'll have to big him farewell tomorrow. Forever. I think I should go to sleep now.
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No Title Given
I went out today and bought the new N'SYNC CD. I didn't like it as much as I thought I would. Oh well. I needed to get out, I needed to have some new music to get myself lost in. I just need something that I can think of as an individual representation of now, instead of listening to all of my older CD's that already represent memories of their own.
I also stopped by Best Buy, and looked at a few prices. Paint Shop Pro 6, the program Alan was supposed to send in a Valentines Day package for me, is $100.00. "The Sims," a game Alan was also supposed to send me, is $50.00. It will take me 2 weeks or more to have enough money to buy them both. And that's not even counting all of the other programs Alan was supposed to send me burned copies of. All the programs I depended on and enjoyed, he has. And he must have decided that I didn't deserve them anymore. He probably distributed all of them to his various friends. Not much I can do about that.
We had "visitors" at my school. Just miscellaneous people from school boards and state education... No one really important. But the school insisted on telling the students to be on their best behavior while these over appointed snobs crept into our classrooms and stared at us like little children with their noses pressed up against a display window. They even went to the trouble of painting over all the writing on the lockers. Only, the paint they used is a good 10 shades lighter then the color of the lockers. Smart, smart, smart. One of my teachers made a good point; why should we try to make the school look better then it really is. If they could see what bad shape OCHS was in, then maybe they would be more interested in giving the school the money it so desperately needs.
I'm tired. I don't really have a weekend to look forward to. I'm supposed to go bowling with all the other teenage workers from Food Lion. I wouldn't mind so much if it just started a little earlier than 10:30 PM. I'm going to be so dead, if I am even awake at all.
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No Title Given
I am becoming depressed... I haven't really been depressed for the past month, mainly because nothing has really been sinking in. Just making a film along the surface. Something like a protective layer. But the fact that the person whom I used to kiss and laugh with doesn't want me to such an extreme just leaves me... crying. Crying like a helpless baby. I'm so powerless. It was so sudden. I don't know what else to do, I've tried everything I can. And there's no one there to take on the weight for me. It's just me. I don't have this mystical extension of my own being anymore. There's no one missing me. There's no one else feeling this way. There's no one anymore.
I still dream at night about marrying him. I still hear him saying he loves me more. I still sit and think about when and where he is going to propose to me. How I want our wedding to be like. I sit alone and speak out full conversations with him, as if he were really there. Sometimes I wake up in the morning, still on a high from a happy dream, and I feel so happy that I'm floating. Then my mind races, and I slam back into my body. And I slump over and I cry. It just hurts so much. I wanted so badly to be perfect to him forever.
Why didn't I know. Why I didn't see it. I'm always so cautious, why didn't I see it. I always ruin everything, why did I think this would be different. Why did I let myself want him so badly. And why did I just sit back and let myself break his heart. Why couldn't I have been happy when he called. Why did I just give him the perfect reason to get rid of me.
How do you go by redefining your purpose in life? I always used to assume that I would die alone. That scares me so much. Every time I just shatter like this, I always lose a few pieces. I'm only 17, and it feels like I've lost more then I have left.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
For once in my school career, I think I might be able to accomplish straight A's. I feel smarter, for some reason. I understand what is going on in my classes for a change. I am actually looking forward to a test tomorrow. I'm going to get a 100. I'm going to bring up my C to an A.
I worked today. Only for a couple hours, though, since it was slow and they decided to send me home. An old man with an oxygen tank tried to steal beer. I guess it's all the rage to try to steal from Food Lion #973. At least it keeps things exciting.
I've been trying to find *someone*... A guy, sort of. Mainly because I have always been convinced that there isn't anyone in my general area that I could be in a relationship with. I hate looking, I don't want to have to look. It's more out of curiosity, really. But I always end up comparing every last one to Alan. It's always Alan, Alan, Alan.
He really was all I ever wanted. And probably all I ever will want. I've told him that. But I'm still here, alone. Thinking it to myself.
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No Title Given
My first real entry at diaryland.com. I feel like I've sold out, in some ways. That it may seem to others that I am not able to keep a journal up on my own. That I need "help." But I came to realize that my lack of updates could also have a lot to do with the fact that I was bored with the old process of updating. It also had a lot of memories attached to the method, if that makes sense or is really at all possible.
I had a busy week last week. Throughout this school year, students have been trying to start fires in the bathrooms. But last Thursday or so, they actually succeeded to the point where they had to sound the fire alarm and call the fire department. I thought it was ironic; all of the students are so used to the fire alarm just being a drill, and an office aid came on over the intercom shortly after the alarm and said "This is not a drill, get out of the building!" I mean, don't make anyone panic or anything. We only had to stay outside for an hour or so. Wasn't all that exciting. The school is offering a $300 reward to anyone who has information about it all.
At work on Sunday, I was working express. About noon, I saw a guy quickly make an exit to the left out of the store with a cart full of food. It made the Alarm sound, which wasn't unusual, since it never really worked right. But I also noticed his groceries that were in his cart were not bagged. I looked to Valerie, a girl on the register in front of me, and asked "Did he have any bags?" She asked me "Did he go through your line?" Amiee, the assistant manager, realized what had happened, and ran out of the store with a bagger, Eric. They left he carts, split up, and ran. They haven't been caught, as far as I know. They had almost $700 worth of beer, ciggs, and most importantly, meat.
I caught Alan online last week, also. He didn't expect for me to IM me, because he was on a new screen name that he obviously didn't know I knew about. He said he had been "meaning to call me," and that he had read all of my e-mails, but he just had always failed to respond to them. I tried to pour my heart out, I tried to say I'm sorry. But all he did was stay quiet. He gave me a complete cold shoulder, and eventually, I just gave up.
The feelings I have been left with are a mixture of so much hate and hurt and confusion and disbelief... They leave me feeling like I need to rip at something. To tear something up, to kick and hit something and hurt it. He's really erasing me. I can think of a thousand reasons for everything with this, but that doesn't make me understand. A year ago, I would never believe that all of this would have happened now. For almost two years, I never went more than 3 days without speaking to him.
What am I supposed to do with this. What am I supposed to do now.
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No Title Given
I've been writing in this online journal for a year now. Doesn't really feel like that long. And I'm not sure if it's actually served it's purpose at revealing emotional stress... But I enjoy it. I enjoy being heard, and I enjoy meeting complete strangers who already know more about me then the friends I hang out with. It has kind of a warm feeling.
This is an odd hour for me to be writing a journal entry. On a Thursday. I just decided to stay home. Just like I did yesterday, on Wednesday. In a way it's sort of skipping, but I did have a sore throat. Minor cold. But the other, more important reason for me ditching school, is because my school has a student holiday tomorrow, which is Friday. And since I always work both Saturday and Sunday, missing Wednesday and Thursday was the only way I could get my 3 day weekend... Heh. If that makes sense.
I am better. Not by choice. In a lot of ways I want to be unhappy. I just hate being alone, and I hate showing that I may be ok with all of this now. I want people to feel bad about it, I want certain people to just be so torn. Torn like I was. But Alan has not talked to me in a week. I e-mail him, I call and leave messages, and he acts as if I don't exist. So maybe that's why I feel better; there's no one there to show off the hurt too. In some ways it may be helping me. It's making me realize he may not have been worth it, if this is the way he's decided to handle things. But it's still not fair to me. I told him I needed to talk to him, and I did; I had a whole speech prepared, that I had worked on for 3 days. I had so many apologies to make, and I wanted to try to make promises. But he just completely cut me off. And for a couple days, it felt like someone had slapped a piece of tape across my mouth.
Last Friday, my friend Sandy had taken me out to Fredericksburg, to try to cheer me up, since I was still very upset them. We got some hot coco, watched a guy have a heart attack (he lived), and went to see the movie "Drowning Mona." But before the movie, I had Sandy stop by PETsMART, because I said I wanted to look at the kittens. They didn't have any currently, so we walked around the store, looking at birds, and fish... and then we came across the hamsters and rats and guinea pigs. We spent an hour, just watching them run around in their cages. I was fascinated.
When I got home from work on Saturday, I promptly called Alan. I had called him the night before, and had gotten a hold of him, 1/2 asleep. He just sounded annoyed, and told me that he didn't know if he was going to be going anywhere tomorrow. I told him I needed to talk, and I was hoping that that would be enough to get him to stay. But when I called, his father said that he had left not 15 minutes earlier to go see a movie. He didn't return for almost the rest of the night, as far as I know. It was around 4:30, starting to get dark. I went out on the front steps and cried.
While I was out there, I remembered the little rodents at PETsMART. And for some reason I just wanted one so bad... so I promptly went into the house and asked if I could go get one. I had the money, and with a little coaxing, and being told I was stupid by my father, I got my mother to come with me. We looked at all of the animals, and we ended up picking a black and orange Guinea Pig. We ended up naming it Muffin, short for "Stud Muffin."
For some reason, getting the Guinea Pig helped. It gave me something else to focus on, something else to send some form of love to. It's really weird. And it seems childish, and maybe that's why I like it. We ended up getting a second Guinea Pig on Sunday, to keep the first company since they are very social animals. This one was names Prickles, because of it's long fur. They're both only a month to 2 months old, and are still babies.
I've gotten really interested in Guinea Pigs. I've been reading up on them nonstop, and it's all I seem to talk about. They're just so damn cute. They were a good idea. They're also apart of the reason why I have been staying home. 
Here are some pictures I snapped with my digital camera:
Muffin
6 weeks
Prickles
8-9 weeks
