it's so strange. i can't call you by your name. i can't address you with anything other than, "hey," and we've been together for two and a half years. i can't believe you haven't noticed. or maybe you have, and just don't say anything. you exploded last night, all over the fucking place. all over me. chased me down in your boxers, shoved me on the ground again. told me you fucking hated me, you don't love me. it's not the first time those words have come out of your mouth. but you say you don't mean them, it's just all you know how to do to shut me up. to hurt my heart. it's so bad. you're so sick. puking in your trashcan in the basement. you were drunk, you don't remember, you say. you don't remember the awful things you said and did? you don't remember kicking me. taking my face in your hands and shoving me back. telling me to leave. just fucking go. so i did, and you chased me down. shoved me down and spat. thismorning you said it was over, because i made you come running after me. because i left, when you told me to leave. when you screamed at me to get the fuck out. and for what? i'm still unsure. how the fuck did i manage that? to force you to come running? and why the fuck am i sitting in your living room right now? something always brings me back. there's that nice boy at the bar where i work, who whispered in my ear last night, "please call me if you're ever single." i felt a spark the moment i met him, and distinguished it without a second thought, because you were by my side. my one and only. and here we are, torn apart again. hating life again. loathing one another. you say all the time, you hate your life. i'm just beginning to think you hate me. you really do. you're just scared to be on your own again. but then again, so am i. but we are so destructive, to ourselves and to eachother. i just wish you would grow up, stop all of this. you can't communicate, i've tried time and again, and you're just an animal. a fucking animal, and i can't tame you for the life of me.

i am still constantly comparing myself to other girls. silently pointing out reasons that they're better than me, but talking shit on them out loud. i am so fucking uptight. for some reason, i always come back to this. the negative. i always focus on the rain instead of the rainbow. i wrote that in a poem once, when i was younger. why am i constantly at battle here? what the fuck am i fighting for? why can't i just be at peace with myself? in my 21 years of existence i have never once felt entirely fucking okay with the person that i am. not ONCE. that's what separates me from a lot of the people i know. or maybe everyone's just really good at pretending. that's what sets me back. i have a constant feeling of insignificance. i have constant insecurities, those of which i have created all on my own. and theyre getting worse. i build me up and break me down, i knock me down and pick me back up again, over and over and over and it's so fucking exhausting, i'm losing sleep. i'm manic, i'll smile, run jump bounce around for days all giddy, yet anxious.. and i wont let it get to me and i'll push it away so far back in my head that it seems hard to find. and that's the thing, i search for it, that monster that consumes me, i fucking reach for it and hold onto it, because it's the only thing that i can depend on to be there always. it always comes back. and i want to fucking kill it. that part of me needs to die. for some reason, i feel almost entirely alone all of the time, no matter who i surround myself with. and i am constantly thinking about myself, in everything i do. i am an entirely selfish person when it comes right down to it.

when i think about my life, i think i'm doing okay. my boyfriend loves me, a lot. i can see it. i love him too--but again, forever really isn't an option. it's just not. the truth fucking hurts. i've not found a person in this world i could spend forever with, besides my mom. and i've been toying with this idea that love is just like pure heroin--once you've had a taste you can't get enough, and it just becomes an addiction. in a sense, love is an addiction, you know? you need it want it crave it die without it. and you're just addicted to those feelings that another person can give you, and that you can give them right back. and you can be high as a kite on it for years, you know, but then the come down, it rips your heart out. so why even expose yourself to it, put yourself out there, so vulnerable and such? it is such a cold, lonely narcissistic idea, i know. but i've just been toying with it. and it's impossible, anyways. to not need love?

and i do love my boyfriend. i really do. i love everything about him and i always have. i could marry him, maybe. but then what??? marraige scares the shit out of me.

...i turned 21 on the 17th, and i've been drunk ever since. going to dive bars with my best friends and going to strip clubs with crazy girls i barely know and staying high. and genuinely, having fun. life is okay. but i still feel out of place.

i'm almost entirely happy, i think

but i can't find the words to describe the details

i'm just living better than i have in years

but who knows, it could just be another phase

time? life? and you.

show it to me even if its only with your eyes
or your hands or your
heart
show it to me, bare and beating in the night
your heart next to mine, anytime
ill smile athousand times harder than i ever have
and mean it

so ive been just fine lately, barely and almost all the way
some days are better than others, brighter than others, lighter than others, and when i'm with you
i almost forget about myself, or want to remember myself, i don't  know which is worse or better 
but i almost think i'm someone else, or myself
when i'm with you

and am i everything you could want and more?
or am i everything you hate?
sometimes i cant tell. my eyes are clouded with doubt and i'm sort of all broken up inside, but
ive opened your eyes to a lot of different things, i know.
youve never thought so much before about certain subjects you
used to find unnecessary. inside my head, the things you never thought about.
sometimes i feel ive burdened you more than blessed you.
i envy you in the same way you envy me.
i wish i could float about my life with little care as to why im here
or what it is im supposed to be doing
it gets exhausting sometimes
this excess thinking

and i know you dont deal with it hardly at all
youre so peaceful inside
most of the time, so simple and it's comforting to know.
i dont know why i get lost in the details so much
when you just graze over the general outline
and youre fine with that
thats usually why im more than fine with you.

if we were supposed to know it all we would
if we were supposed to be happy and smiling shiny and bright
all the time
we would
if we were supposed to not suffer ever, we wouldn't
suffering helps us see the truth, right? or something
suffering helps us to be strong
to suffer is to live
that's the buddhist point of view
sometimes i think theyre right
it's not all about some God in the sky doing everything for us,
making sure we're perfectly happy all of the time and making sure
we never ever have to face any hardships in our lives,
the problem of evil, that whole thing about if there's evil in the world
there can't be a god, i don't think that's true at all.
sure i really think there's a god but i think he just lets us be what
we are and lets our lives play out as we see fit,
however we do it we do it and whatever happens happens.
if there's evil in the world, why, isn't it our fault?
we, as human beings, have free will, arguably
we, as human beings, make free choices
we live the way we live because we choose to live this way
not god
he didn't choose anything for us
except that we would live, and die
he just gave us the gift of life, gave us a chance
gave us the world... and with that he hoped we wouldn't abuse it
the world, the life, the chance
maybe the universe was given to him as a gift,
under a circumstance that he had to give it life...
and through our lives, he has
and i think  it's so possible
that we are just a tiny spec in the dot on his horizon, of course he
loves us, he created us, but there is so much more life out there
it is selfish to think that we are the only living beings.
that only the small, beautiful, green and blue planet inhabits life.
you know, the horizon of heaven must be so vast and infinite
earth is probably a nameless star there, glittering in the night sky
if we die we die, if we live we live.
we just are.
nothing more.
we just be.
here.
now.
in this moment,
and it's not pre-planned and it's not fate and it's not anything
it's just... everything.
everything we know, and everything else we don't know.
we exist here in time, but where does time exist?

i wish i felt the need to have money like everyone else. i wish i felt the need to drive a car like all of my friends. i wish i felt the need to get ahead in life, instead of sit and watch it all pass me by. although i don't feel like it's passing me by. i feel like i'm in it, i'm just more of an observer than a participant. i don't work yet. i don't drive yet. i mean i've worked in the past. i've had 6 or 7 jobs it seems. probably 5. but still. i've worked. in crazy places. personal care homes and such. a grocery store. a winery. a pizza shop. three nursing/group homes. but i've not held a job for more than 8 months at a time. the only thing i find myself committed to is school. and my boyfriend. not anything else, really. he's teaching me to drive. i'm learning. slowly. i think i'll be ready when i'm ready.

i'm 20. i feel like i'm just floating along not worrying about much other than what i'm going to wear today and when i'm going to see him next. and i'm okay with that. but i'm not okay with the fact that everyone else isn't okay with that. my mother has been bugging me to get a job and so has my boyfriend, in a very innocent, joking manner. but still. i know he wants me to work. i know the right thing to do is to get a job. and make money. and support myself. and get out on my own and do my own thing. fuck. he works 40 hours a week. plus overtime sometimes. he has a real job. i go to school for liberal arts, have no idea what i want to do with my life, have no license, no job, no car. no money. he has three vehicles of his own. he pays for his mother and brother to live in an apartment. he is a man. he's 20 and he's all grown up. in that sense. in the living-in-the-real-world sense. and i'm not. at all. he buys me everything. anything i want, really. within reason. shoes, clothes, jewelry, food. the truth is, he is so good to me. but i don't understand why. because we fight sometimes, terribly. i'm probably the first person to ever force him to deal with drama in his entire life. his mom is very cautious, very protective over him--not in a strange or bad way, just in a way that really doesn't let him or force him to see the whole truth about things sometimes. she just lets him believe what he wants to believe, even if it's wrong. because she doesn't want to confuse him, or upset him. i don't really know. i love him, i know that.

i'm sitting at his house right now--he's at work--and i'm going to clean his room. because it's the least, very very least i can do.

blahh.