Log in

11 April 2008 @ 05:05 pm
It's not that I don't believe that he regrets it, that he didn't know he was doing something wrong. I do believe he didn't want to hurt me and is devastated that he did.

But I can't help feeling like his thought process was that what I sort of didn't know wouldn't hurt me. I should've known to run far away the times he timidly felt me up when I asleep in his bed. Timidly so that he wouldn't wake me up (fail) and also so if I did, he could play it off like it was accidental.

And I understand him not wanting me to see him around. But yesterday we were both walking back to Frost; he was far behind me, but I lit a cigarette outside the door to our building, so that if he walked any further there would be discomfort because we'd be in each other's line of vision.

So he HID BEHIND A CAR AND WAITED. I didn't notice at first, and then like four minutes later, still smoking, I noticed him peering at me through the windows of the car he was hidden behind. CREEP. That freaky fucking creep.
Current Mood: discontentdisturbed
10 April 2008 @ 04:01 am
He didn't understand what he did to me. I went down the hall to his room and slapped him, hard. I told him. I screamed at him. I was shaking and sobbing and afraid and violated and horrified. Him being an idiot doesn't make it okay. Being all starry-eyed and thinking we're falling in love isn't an acceptable excuse for believing what you want to believe if the reality of the situation doesn't fit into your fantasy. I feel so dirty and loathesome and angry. I want to crawl out of my skin, but he'd still be inside. I just want it off and out of me and I want time to take it back. I want to stop being a statistic. I can't get it off of me. I slept to hide from it as long as I could but my dreams brought it back. I slapped him again before I left.
Current Mood: distressedfilthy
22 March 2008 @ 03:35 am
I want a man who's gallant and poetic... somebody who will sweep me off my feet, do the sorts of things I daydream about but wouldn't dare to hope for. I want a man who will get me alone in a huge, echoing ballroom with some sweet, jazzy old love song playing and dance with me, just because. I want a man who thinks he's really lucky to have me, and because of that makes sure I feel lucky to have him. I want a guy who doesn't need an occasion to buy me flowers, but doesn't say "I love you" casually. I don’t want someone who is capable of saying that casually. I don’t want someone who can tell me how beautiful I am if the statement isn’t inspired by true emotion. I want someone who loves me so much that they ache to show their love to me.
I have been officially acknowledged as the biggest dork ever by a guy who knows every word to the Buffy the Vampire Slayer Musical. The cause:

PikCstix87 (7:12:13 PM):did you say anything? my connection cut out for a sec
PikCstix87 (7:13:14 PM):you there?
PikCstix87 (7:22:57 PM):Canst thou read the words from whence my mind,
and through mine fingers I for sooth do typest to thee?
PikCstix87 (7:24:06 PM):Prithee respond if thou hast hearkened to
my correspondence.
PikCstix87 (7:24:56 PM):Oh, woe and alas.
PikCstix87 (7:29:48 PM):Wherefore dost mine internet connection sucketh
the stones of some fell scoundrel, villainous
and besot with the maladies which doubtless owe to
 enterprises of rude and lustful dishonor?
PikCstix87 (7:33:39 PM):such that the words I send forth to thine eyes
cannot reach them, and verily thou must thinkest of
me that I am false and neglectful to hasten hence
with nary a word and ne'er to hie thither to thee.
SocratesMMXII went idle at 7:36:01 PM
PikCstix87 (7:55:36 PM):It is for lowly shame and pierces sharply to the
fragile center of my heart that thou considerest
not the earnest words that for thee I have so
carefully composed. Humbly I beseech thee to
acquiesce thy sight and rest thine eyes upon
my message
SocratesMMXII (7:55:36 PM):Hey, just being rude and leaving my screen
SocratesMMXII came back from idle at 7:56:13 PM
PikCstix87 (7:57:50 PM):which while in timbre may avail an ostentatious
manner, and in cadence, within the meaning holdeth
only the meekest and truest countenance of
PikCstix87 (7:58:29 PM):ah, hither thou hast returned!
PikCstix87 (7:58:48 PM):sorry, my dorkiness knows no bounds
SocratesMMXII (7:58:51 PM):i have, but you can stop, it makes me feel
extraordinarily dumb to read what you write
so slowly
PikCstix87 (7:58:53 PM):for sooth.

And yes. I did type, in Elizabethan English, "Why does my internet connection suck disgusting STD-ridden balls?"
Current Mood: sillysilly
04 March 2008 @ 06:21 pm
"That's the good thing about being depressed. You get your rest."
-When Harry Met Sally

The other nice thing about having run out of your antidepressants and spending the entire day in bed is that when your stupid roommate finally leaves, and well... there's not that much to do when you're lying in bed doing nothing... well, I just remembered what *real* orgasms feel like, rather than those pathetic zoloft-impaired ones I've been having for months.

What kind of sick joke is that? To have to choose between orgasms and wanting to live?! *shakes fist at the sky*
23 February 2008 @ 01:22 pm
Nothing is right anymore. Everything feels off without you.
Shame on me for not realizing.
Shame on me for giving you this power over me.
22 February 2008 @ 06:12 am
What happened to me was emotional rape. My ability to love so deeply was exploited, taken advantage of, ravaged. Used and then tossed aside when the illusion wasn't worth keeping up, which I now see clearly - though it admittedly was a shockingly good impression of generosity, sensitivity, and genuine care, none of that painstaking effort was for me. It was all for yourself. It was impossible not to fall for the person you were pretending to be, and you took everything I could give... You craved to feel loved and needed, so you manipulated me, masqueraded as Prince Charming, and greedily took my real love in exchange for your beautiful forgery. You are a parasite.

I think I might be all used up.

Knowing how real it felt when all of it was a self-serving charade, I no longer believe I can distinguish between someone offering real love, and a very talented and slightly sociopathic liar. It's not that I believe there are many more human beings capable of these things to such a devastating extent, the chances of the same thing happening to me again are slim, but I cannot bear to make myself vulnerable that way again. I need to protect my bruised, poisoned heart even if the scar tissue that forms makes it far less than it was before.

Still, I want so badly to feel that connection again, with ANYONE. I find myself grabbing for anything, trying to find meaning, trying to find anything... but I know that even if it's offered to me, I won't be able to love sincerely. Not yet. I may want to, but it's not safe. Maybe I can just make myself feel better, make myself feel worthwhile, if I could make someone need me and love me...

THAT is the most disgusting, horrid thing about this entire harrowing experience: it's turned me into a creature like you. It sickens me to think about it. It is manifesting a bit differently. Just to pass the time I've been fucking pretty much anyone who crosses my path (within certain boundaries, though they're much more lax than my usual standards) and it is meaningless and gross and in some ways fantastic, but those ways don't last long... Ha... I'm getting too used to the feeling of regret ripping into my stomach as I catch my breath and push my sweaty hair out of my face. Even though I'm a whore, I haven't yet reached that unforgivable level of exploitation, I haven't gotten anyone to fall in love with me. However, there's more than one person, possibly more than two, who are at the very least smitten and on their way to having significant feelings for this thing. A portrait of a good girl, completely discolored  and more than a little frayed. This damaged, ruthless wreck, this... parasite, with an insane, unrelenting, self-serving urge to do WHATEVER it takes to drink in the love I crave, though I can give nothing real in return.
I once had everything to give.
And I gave it to you.

Well I hope you thoroughly enjoyed raping my heart, because if you didn't, what a fucking waste.

I hope the next girl you toy with will make you realize what a good thing you've given up. I also hope that you never get laid again. But if you do get laid again in the near future, I sincerely hope you notice how much better it was with me. I'd wager my college fund you're NEVER going to get fellatio that can compete with mine, and that is such a satisfying thought. And considering that (let's be honest) I was way out of your league in the first place, the girls you'll be able to get are going to be awkward and weird in bed, not to mention less attractive, and in all likelihood less intelligent.

Sometimes I think I'm a walking contradiction... piss-poor self-esteem, and yet I'm arrogant as anything. Though I do have evidence supporting every claim in the last paragraph.

I wish I could understand what this bitter lesson was worth, or what I can possibly gain from it.
Current Mood: depressedempty
31 January 2008 @ 06:54 am
I like a girl. She has a boyfriend, same one for the past 7 or 8 months...  but we really connected tonight. And she let me kiss her. We couldn't stop kissing each other. She's so beautiful and smart and spunky. Her lips are pretty and soft.
Current Mood: giddygiddy
23 January 2008 @ 02:47 am
Joe responded to my text. I texted him last night (in real life, not the dream) because I was bored and looking for someone to hang out with. In the dream, he texted me back to come along to some get together with a campfire... I went, and did my best to look and act desirable without making it seem like I wanted him, the way I've been doing around him lately. I still kind of like him, but I don't think I want anything to happen, at least nothing serious. I just want him to like me.

During the party, he sent me a text saying that he had been crazy to let me go, and that he thought I was radiant and he wished things had gone differently. We went to a cabin and had sex... and right afterwards I heard Tom's voice outside. He was looking for me.

I went outside to see him, and he told me he loved me and wanted to start over. I said I never stopped loving him, and then some girl I knew in the dream, taking the place of Emily Lennon who did the same thing in another dream, was like "Then why did you sleep with someone else when you were together?" Tom looked upset and started to walk away... I ran after him, denying it had happened, then admitting it, but I said it didn't mean anything to how I felt about him. He held me and kissed me, and we were together... but I was so afraid of him leaving again...

Later, he somehow found out I'd slept with Joe right before we got back together, and he left me. Joe said he wanted to be with me, but I said I didn't want to go out with him. He got angry, I forget why, but we were arguing, and I remember really clearly yelling at him that I was too afraid to be with somebody who could really like me and want to be with me one day and the next lose interest completely. It occurs to me now that I think that's how all the guys in my love life right now feel. Tom, Joe, Neal... I'm afraid to be with any of the ones with whom I would want to have a relationship, because I can't trust them not to... disappear, give up on me, stop liking me. It's happened before with all three.

The only things I'm not afraid of are the thing with Matt, and the meaningless things I've been carrying on with a few guys I met online. I want to feel attractive and appreciated and sexy, and I want to have romantic and sexual interactions, but only if there's no chance the guy wants a relationship. I know Matt doesn't want to have a relationship with me, which is the only way I feel safe right now. How did sex suddenly become less scary and dangerous than real feelings? I want my innocence back. I want my ability to trust back.

If I can't love and be loved, the best I can manage is to use and be used. Matt and I had more meaningless sex tonight. It felt good, but also horrible.

I think my heart is dying. Right now I barely feel it, because it's felt so awful for so long, and now it's turning numb. It's like your foot falling asleep... it feels weird and bad, but no matter how hard it gets stepped on and crushed... you can't feel the pain.
Current Mood: numbnumb
Current Music: Without You - Rent
11 January 2008 @ 01:56 am
Last night I had a nightmare... I've been having terribly disturbing, violent dreams lately,  and I only remember tiny bits of most of them, but this one I remember pretty clearly.

while the whole thing was pretty long and complicated, I can't get one part out of my head.
Several girls and I were being held hostage in a bridal shop. The man keeping us there came out of the back room with a knife, and forced us all to put on wedding dresses with nothing underneath them. Then he raped me.

I was forced into a wedding dress and raped at knifepoint by a STRANGER.

Well, Tom, I don't think it takes a rocket scientist... or an Air Force Cryptologist... to decipher that metaphor.