>>Unpredictable<<
Journal,
Ugly. Stupid. Pathetic. Those are the three things my life has become. Those are the three things I am. Those are the three things that will haunt me until the day I die. The thing I hate most about myself is how I let those three things consume me and now I can’t be anything but a massive ball of self-pity.
All the doing of one man. In fact, I don’t want to call him a man, I wouldn’t give him the credit as to being a man because he is not even relatively close. He is a stupid ruthless boy who runs around with my heart in his hand and refuses to give it back. And he doesn’t even know he’s doing it. The relationship has been long over with and yet I still can't get over him. He’s over me though; I can guarantee you of that. He’s the one who informed me of my ugliness, my stupidity, and my pathetic state of being.
It’s over now and I have officially sworn off men. They add nothing to my life but confusion. I don’t need it. I have to worry about college, my job, the assholes I call friends and my overly fucked up family. I don’t need some half-wit coming in the picture and loading his problems onto me like I’m some kind of magic worker.
Does heartbreak ever fade? And if not can you hide it? I go on everyday of my life thinking about Joey. What is Joey doing right now? Is Joey reading a book? Is Joey sleeping? Is Joey thinking about me? Is Joey out fucking another girl while I sit here and get more miserable by the second?
The phone mocks me. I want so badly to pick it up and dial his number and confess my never-ending love for him. But yet the last time I used that phone to call him I learned of my being ugly, stupid and pathetic. The phone is now my enemy, it attacks me in my time of need. How can I call him when I know that evil words will spill through the five little holes that hardly keep me connected to him?
I hate love. If you never experienced love I congratulate you. Love is always followed by hurt, and knowing how bad the hurt is the love was NEVER worth it. What is love? Is that your biggest question? Love is NOT holding hands and soft kisses by the fireplace. Love is NOT sharing a milk shake or doodles all over your notebook. Love is yearning. A desire to be in his arms. A longing to see his face. A hunger for hearing his voice. A craving to be his everything. An aching just to spend time with him. For only an hour, a minute, a second. Love is nostalgia. Just to want to be with him. After the giddiness fades and you find yourself still with him then you know you have love.
Calista
