Diary of an American Witch
Here Iam again
Yeah yeah yeah, Ive been gone a while, but a lot of things
have been happening in my life, and I had this whole mess
with my email addy too. It got hacked into, and the
password was changed on me so I couldn't get in, and I lost
all my addresses in my book, and all my past emails, and
everything. I set up a new addy, but since I didn't get my
daily reminder anymore, I eventually forgot about this
place and all its comforts. I have been writing in an
actual paper journal lately, (gasp) and I have to say, it's
a nice thing, to be able to get your thoughts down and out
of your head.
One of the big things that has happened is that my
boyfriend, the one that I said I was always fighting with,
we broke up. And Im sure its for good this time. I won't
even go into how it happened, let's just say, it was ugly,
and Im still coping with it. I know, Im a looser, I should
just forget about it and go on, but I can't. What I had
with "jamie" was something that you don't see every day,
he was, well, my best friend, my editor, my cheerleader,
and my guardian angel, all rolled into this sarcastic
package with a great ass and questionable fashion sence.
I loved him, in all sences of the word.
I miss talking with him. I miss our dinners at our
favorite mexican resturant. I miss, and this is going to
sound wierd, I miss dressing up for him. Not like in a sex
games sort of way (dirty minded wankers) but like, I miss
picking out an outfit because I know he'd like me in it, or
wearing makeup or perfume because I want to be pretty for
him. I have this memory, we were leaving this Itallian
place, and he stops the car, and parks it, just so he can
lean over and smell the perfume I had on my neck, and the
sound he made......it was like he was in heaven, or
something. You have no idea how special that made me feel.
I don't know, maybe Im just wierd.
I miss the long car trips we would take, and we'd just
talk, about my day, or his, or my family, or his (I love
his mom) or we'd just sit in comfortable silence. I miss
watching him read the new part of my story, and hearing
what he had to say. (I have done some amazing re writes on
my new story, and I think he would be the only one to
really appriciate them). And I need his encouragement, and
his comfort. He was the only one who ever really had faith
in me. No one ever had faith in me, everyone else just
expected me to fail, and it was like, they didn't even
bother to hide it. It was nice to have someone that
believed in me.
Ok, done with the pity party.
I was all set to live out my life with him. Get married,
have a kid, a little girl, I was ready. And then
My dad, who scares the absolute crap out of me sometimes,
was working out in the yard, but I didn't know it, and when
he got done, he came in and just reemed me for not helping
him. It wasn't my fault, I didn't know, but he was
yelling, and insulting me, and it was one of the worst
things I have ever been through, and when he got done, I
sat alone in my room, and curled up into a ball on my bed,
and cried. I don't cry much, but he does it to me every
time. I stayed in my room the whole day because I was
scared to go out, I didn't want to get yelled at again, and
I looked like a mess, and I felt worse, and I was like this
the whole day. And when "Jamie" came over for our date,
and I told him what was wrong, he asked what he could do,
and I said it would be ok, but I didn't want to go out that
night, and he got mad at me! Like I had made the whole
thing up just to get out of our date or something. And
then we got into this arguement about how I deal with
pain. Can you believe that? I mean, here I am, at an
extremely low point emotionally, and Im having to defend
myself because he thinks I should just buck up, and go to
this party because Im ignoring his needs by being depressed.
Well, that's my take on it anyway.
I was expecting him to "throw his emotions to the wolves"
as he put it.
And I got so mad at him, because, how blind do you have to
be to not see that the last thing I needed right then was
to get into an arguement? And how selfish do you have to
be to ignore the fact that the one you love is in pain, and
I just needed him to hold me and tell me that he loved me,
and that everything was going to be ok.
And he acted like asking him to figure that out on his own
was like asking him to read my mind, but it was something
that any other boyfriend would do for their girlfriend, or
any other girlfriend would do for their boyfriend. It's
something I had done for him a dozen other times before
back when we were just friends, and he was recovering from
And then we kind of made peace, but I knew it was over.
That night, I kept thinking that if I married a guy that
flipped out and started an arguement every time I got
depressed, then I would be spending my whole life trying to
hide my feelings because I didn't want to start a fight,
and I can't live like that. I can't live like that!
So I wrote him an email, I know, lame. And he wrote me one
back, argueing, and I wrote him back and told him there was
no point in fighting because it was done, and all we were
doing was hurting ourselves and eachother, and I think that
is what clinched it. If we would have kept fighting, we
might have gotten back together eventually, but we didn't.
I got my stuff back, and he got his, and that was the end
But I didn't want to argue anymore. And what pisses me off
is that he likes to argue! He loves it, he has said so
before. And he'll argue for arguement's sake, and he'll
argue till he has browbeaten his point into your skull, and
he thinks you have fully learned your lesson, and are sorry
for ever doing or being, or thinking, something he
disagreed with. No matter how much he hurts you, no matter
what kind of huge spike he drives between you and him, he
will argue and argue, and argue until you want to break
down and sob out of anger, and frustration, and hurt. Why
did he have to do that? Why did he have to pick on me
while I was feeling that way? Why did he have to keep
insulting me by pointing out all the illogical ways that my
heart worked?Why did he have to keep twisting the knife
over and over, and over again?
Why couldn't he have just held me, and told me it was going
to be ok?
Because he couldn't? Because he didn't understand that he
couldn't make his way of dealing with pain the way I delt
with it too? Because in some twisted way maybe he was
trying to distract me from my pain? Because he thought I
was faking it? I don't know. Whatever the reason, he
hates me now anyway, so Ill never talk to him to find out.
He says I used him. Did I use him? What did I use him for?
I miss the ring he gave me. It had the most beautiful blue
stone I have ever seen, it changed color when you looked at
it at certain angles. And although he never told me so, I
know he bought it because it reminded him of my eyes.