The Diary

I Hate Everything About You. Why Do I Love You?

Note- the bold parts are still being revised/possibly deleted, and "British" is code name for 'that special lad'

Oh "British", if only you knew.

The thought of not ever getting over you frightens me.

But the thought of getting over you frightens me so much more. 

Yesterday I felt so alive. And I barely even talked to you. Actually, you were being quite a dick, replying "whatever" to everything I said. (That's why I stopped responding to you)

I felt so upbeat because for whatever reason a picture of your face kept popping up in my head. You were fresh in my imagination, which rarely ever happens. Imagination is difficult to spontaneously stimulate.

It's doing it again today. But not as much. I see your eyes, your smile, your hair, your earring, and I feel myself swelling up with yearning. Nothing more than an immense craving to see you in person. To actually touch you, maybe kiss you, and then do whatever you wanted. 

"He treats you like shit and uses the fuck out of you and Molly", says Odelya. Oh Jesus cocksucking Christ she's right. 

God damn it Odelya is right. So fucking right. You're full of yourself, you know that? You take and take and take and suck the life out of me and then tell me I don't know shit, and that your life is so hard. Oh poor you. You have a car, plenty of food and shelter, parents who love you but let you be independent, and a girlfriend. Fuck that; you have tons of girls who I bet would love to throw themselves all over you. You have weed and time to smoke it. You have a job, so you can pay for your shit. You know how much of that I have? Food and shelter and parents (but no independence, which is more important to me). But I suck it up and get over it, because I acknowledge that the life I live isn't that hard. 

I don't like to take what I haven't earned, and I'm sure as hell not expecting any pity. So I don't go about bitching about my life, because what am I gonna say? "Oh, I walk home. You have it easy. " I don't have to walk for over an hour every day just to get to my house. I choose to. I could just as easily get a ride from the bus or dear old mom and dad. (Ew) 

You're never going to think of me the way I think of you. Oh dear God you're never going to really listen to me, are you? You're never going to respect me. This whole time I've been hoping for something that's just not going to happen. But you develop a sexual relationship with me and lead me on. I think I love you. No, I'm pretty sure I do. It's like I live in denial because I don't know if I can really accept what you think of me: I'm just a mindless thing with a nice ass.

Odelya sees you for what you really are. I just have this glorified image of you that I've implanted in my head. Your face holds it all, but the reality is bullshit.