...You'd Think The World Was Ending...

Fuck.

Fuck!

I should've written this ages ago, days ago in the least, but I put it off, put it off, because happiness just doesn't make for good blogging, happiness does not make for good story-telling, there was never a good soap-opera without pathetic sadness and anger. So, I will fulfill your expectations here, all you who tell me I'm "emo" when I write things like this, and never mind the cathartic aspect, because it's much fucking better to label me, no matter how hard I fight to tell you why I'm not, ignoring the fact that I really have no other "emo" tendencies, I don't dress in black, I don't cut myself, I don't mope all day long, and in fact my only crime has been honesty in my writing, telling you how I feel is the sin that I've allowed myself, and if you read this and call me "emo", well... I am what I am.

Wait a minute... Fuck you! If there's one thing I've gained from these experiences, it's a sense of self-worth. No... That is not the right term, that is the wrong word... More a sense of... Solidarity with myself. I know now that I have to be happy with who I am... And I will gain just as much respect for sticking to my guns and staying true to myself than I will with always compromising and thus always getting the short end of the stick. If I want to derive a sick sense of pride from making others happy at the expense of myself, then I will. But not at the cost of my overall sanity, not at the cost of a piece of my soul. I will give my soul fully, or not at all... Not in bits and pieces. That's not my style.

Josh, the next time you choose to mock me in your blog by using a paragraph of mine, try to make sure that paragraph doesn't make your writing style seem like that of a half-retarded rhesus monkey.

Anyway, Jill is with Josh. C'est la vie. Perhaps not how life should be, not how it should've happened in my mind, but that's how it ended up. Fuck, it's just... I don't know, half the times I've talked to her since then, especially when it's been her with Josh, it just feels like exactly that... Her with Josh, and me on my own. Me against them. I hate that feeling, because, fuck, it used to be me and her against him... He was just our minor distraction, and he was going to be out of the way eventually, it was just a matter of time... And suddenly the tables switched? Suddenly I'm the minor distraction in their relationship?!?

I will not be relegated to the minor leagues! I will not fade away into oblivion!

And now I know, that what we had, will be so hard for me to get back... It is so hard now, talking to her, to get past what she's done, and our conversations are never the same, and maybe they never will be, because a part of me is going "I love you, I miss you, I'm not over you..." and another part of me, locked in the back, but nonetheless demanding to be heard, is screaming "Look what she did to you! Look what she let him do! Stand up for yourself!". And I can't get past the fact that it didn't even stop after we broke up, she still fucking took his feelings into account more than she did mine, because fuck, he's her boyfriend... But I was the one who was hurting, and I was the one who needed to be fucking coddled for once... Oh well. At least I can say, though I bore the brunt of the attack, the bulk of the pain, I took it face first, head up, tears in my eyes and bone in my back... For once in that whole fucking mess.

And then... I don't know how to tell this story. There is this girl named Brianne. Me and Brianne are extremely close... We are like best friends, and we have been for a very long time. We sort of lost touch for a while, we fell apart, but a little while ago we rekindled that which we once had, and everything was good! Now the thing about Brianne and I is... Once upon a time ago, in the days of elementary school, I like Brianne. And the funny thing is, Brianne liked me. But neither of us knew it, I was fucking blind, and I won't say this about her, but she didn't see it either. And the thing is, I realized, a little while ago, that that feeling hadn't exactly died. But she felt it would be better with us as friends, because she didn't want to ruin what we had, and she always said that there was a possibility in the future... And so I denied my feelings, openly and to myself, but I always held on to that hope. You see, I learned something... After Jill, I felt as though I'd never really like anyone again, that no one would be able to hold a candle to her... And when I realized what I felt for Brianne, I suddenly realized how fucking... Teenage that was. How naive I was to believe in the exclusivity of emotion, to think that I would never like another girl... So, without even knowing it, Brianne helped me through that break-up as much as anyone did.

And we got close... And we got closer... And we got to where I was pretty sure that I actually stood maybe possibly a good chance of having her. And she knew it too... And in fact, knowing what they had planned that night, she perhaps knew more than me...

And tonight, her and Mark got back together.

And I am happy or her, so happy for her! I'm not joking, I'm not being sarcastic, the fact that she's happy with it makes me happy... Or makes me believe I should be happy. It's a spark of flame on doused kindling at the moment, to be honest. Because I know that we're still best friends, as we'll still tell each other all our secrets, and we'll still be as close as we were before... And I know that she'll be happier with him than she would've been with me anyway, and I know that I was silly to get my hopes up, and I know that this is ultimately the best possible thing for her, the best option.

But fuck.

I am now a firm believer in people learning to break the fuck up. Damn it, every single one of you, stop getting my hopes up! If I walk into one more rebound feeling, I am going to fucking take a bat to my competition, and then maybe to myself if I still have the energy.

Not to play to the aforementioned stereotype, but why the fuck is everyone going to be happy but me? Damn it, if I see one more happy couple out there I am going to torch my nearest Hallmark store. And if I see one more couple complain, well... I'm going to take that torch to myself. Yes, I understand things aren't all rainbows and butterflies. Yes, I realize that you guys have problems too, all of you... But no, the grass is not greener on the other side. I'm allergic to grass anyway.

Ergh, the self-pity level in this room just knocked itself up about 12 notches.

*Sigh* I did forget how good this feels though... My thoughts are down and composed so that I don't have to be.

Oh! Also, before I forget, would you all be so kind as to sign your comments when you make them? I don't want to have to take away the ability to remain anonymous, because anonymity is certainly a valid choice, but I do like to know who is complimenting/insulting me. I don't mind being yelled at, but I would like to know who I'm supposed to be refuting. Thank you.

Alright, bed. Don't worry, this will continue to be updated more often...Dark clouds on the horizon or not. Until then... I need sleep.

Music: Regina Spektor -- Ghost of Corporate Future