My So-Called Life
It has been exactly a week and four days since the boy and
I broke up for the second time.
At first, I was so calm about the situation. (This
surprised me because I figured I would be really upset at
the whole thing.) But I guess that the whole 'being un-
happy with him for the last couple days' kind of changed
how I felt about it ... at first.
All of a sudden (a few days ago and since) I feel all...sad
and weird again. Like...there is this craving in me to cry
and cry and cry and just let it out, damn it! But, it has
never come...I have come to the point many times where I'd
actually rather just cry and get it out of my system for
good. But, it just plain doesn't happen.
At school I am always happy. I can't not be, I mean, that's
just not me. I am not the type of person who can act all
upset and so sad in public. (This is because the people who
do that just make me think that they want more attention
than is actually needed.) Besides - people are more
interested in people who look happy and involved with life.
So, I go along being as happy as I can, and enjoying every
bit of it...(as much as I can.)
At home...well, I think that if someone witnessed a very
normal day at home for me, they may find it either quite
interesting, or deathly boring as hell. The interesting
thing would be when my dad and I have our long
conversations. Those are fun - it's like a challenge. We
get into a topic, and somehow they are always arguments -
whatever I argue, he comes back with this amazing point
porving me wrong, and it causes me to think so much
about...stuff! I love those, but maybe that would just be
considered boring to the average joe.
Anyways - if I may get back to the original topic. Happy at
school, extremely weirded out at home. Abbey told me a
story today about him, and it got me even more confused
about the situation. What bothers me, is that I know now
that it is a possibility to be asked out more than once by
someone - it's possible, and I have the feeling that I
think that it could actually happen AGAIN. Insanely enough -
I know what the truth is, but I refuse to realize it.
Perhaps this is why I find myself wanting to cry at night,
or wanting to pick up the damn phone and dial him number
again...it hurts to let go. It hurts a hell of a lot more
than holding on ever did.