>>Chapter 9<<

Journal,

Sometimes I look at myself in the mirror and I am horribly disgusted. I just keep staring for a reason I can’t figure out. I want to walk away so bad from the mirror, but I am glued into my position. Staring at myself. When I look long enough and start to cry, I hit the mirror. And sometimes I just keep punching the mirror over and over until it’s in pieces on the floor. I think I do it because I want the mirror to feel what I feel. So I break it into pieces, because I feel as if I am a hundred shattered pieces on the floor. But, then I look down and into all the pieces and realize that taking my anger out on the mirror didn’t do anything at all. Because, all I see now is a reflection of me with bloody knuckles and tears running down my face. But instead of just seeing one broken me, I see hundreds of whole little me’s.

After I got done with my mirror rant, I was compelled to pick up a sharp mini-glass version of myself and hurt the real version. I just kept telling myself I would be better off if I did it, and nobody would really mind. But I didn’t do it, for a reason I can’t explain. In fact, I don’t think I really need an explanation for the reason. I just didn’t do it, and that’s all there is to it.

I never know the right thing to say at the moment I want to say something clever and striking. I want people to be impressed with my thoughts; I don't want them to think I'm rendered speechless. I want people to think "what quick reactions and petty, yet charming wits." But when I think of the right thing to say, nobody is around for me to say it to and it is left within myself. Then I beg for a situation to unfold whereas I would be called upon to enlighten the person in front of me with my clever comments... but the chances of it ever happening the way I would like are slim to none. I think this because for starters, the occurrence I’m begging and pleading to fall upon me will never present itself. And secondly, if and when it does happen, I'll blank out again and be left with only blatant stupidity to bestow upon the person in front of me.

I know that was all just kind of random and thrown in there, but I guess it goes with a dream I had the other day. The dream was me, sitting on my couch, doing absolutely nothing. Then, I start thinking of everything I want to say to Joey. I have this whole elaborate conversation going on in my head of the perfect exchange between us. It’s going so great in my imagination so I decide to call him. I pick up the phone, and I dial his numbers and he answers. The only thing I manage to choke out was “I need you to come back to me or I can’t make it.” But in the reality outside of my dream, given the chance, that is not what I want to say to him at all. I want him to equally return my feelings without any sort of pity. Acting like a lonely, desperate girl will not win his love, it will only win his sympathy and I feel I already have enough of that from him. What I would actually say to Joey is “What can we do to fix this? Where did we go wrong, and is there any way to ever work things out?” I wouldn’t want to do something stupid like throw myself at him.

But I guess I shouldn’t get all flustered over this, because reality just punched me in the face and told me there is no shot in hell that it would ever happen.

Here’s looking to a better tomorrow. I guess the only thing for me to do now is try to cheer up and remember things could be worse.

Calista

Chapter 10- All Good Things Must End