"Bathtub" by Waxahatchee
Take my word for it,
I'm not worth it.
I ignored you all night
and you don't deserve it.
my skin soft and hot.
I was sure you were right, but you're not, you're not.
my ruined fate.
Someone will hurt me so bad one day.
And you'll resonate
or I'll apologize
or maybe I'll make the same mistake twice.
I hide from phonecalls under the warm water.
Malice desists, no it woefully recurs.
And it plays like daytime tv shows. I confuse you.
And I tell you not to love me
but I still kiss you when I want to.
And I lament, you're innocent,
but somehow the object of my discontent.
And its fucked up. I let you in
even though I've seen what can happen.
You make a tape.
I receive it in the mail
and I force myself busy.
The diversion will prevail.
And I will swallow all my guilt with little pills and forge my chin up.
And I will only think about it in the morning, in the bathtub.
July 18, 2016 Monday 9:35 PM
Things have happened.
I went to Modest Mouse. It was fun. I wish it was better. I prefer small venues, and this was not one. Still, it was amazing to see the band – to actually see them. They're so close to my heart it's embarrassing.
Liv told me she cares about other people.
We were talking about Brennan and how she can't just cut him off, which I didn't understand because I can.
And her response was, "But I give a shit about people."
I don't think she meant to suggest I don't, but that's kinda how I took it. And... damn.
Maybe she's right.
Maybe I don't give a shit about people.
I'm conflicted. Because I really do care. People hurting hurts me and I love them. But, I guess... I do put myself ahead of them. And when it comes to friendship – I am not a giver.
My philosophy is that if friendship between two people isn't easy, isn't enjoyable, then why not let it end?
And I guess I sort of got it in my head that others think the same thing, and that we can stop talking and it will be a peaceful end to it all.
(There are times when I stop talking to people because I'm scared. This is a note, y'know? Like. If I quit you, it's not guaranteed that this means I think our friendship is too difficult to maintain)
Maybe friendship is supposed to be the kind of thing you work to maintain, though. I don't know. I can't tell.
Other thing that has happened:
I got all depressed for a few days. It was horrible. Really boring and uncomfortable, as usual. I'm much better today though.
I hope that when I get that way, it's something real.
I saw Adrian today! That made me happy.
It was weird at first, since this is the first time we've seen each other since his confession. I poked him in the stomach and smiled and then we sorta just stared at each other in silence for a few long seconds.
He said, "I'm just gonna make this as awkward as possible."
I rolled my eyes, said "Why?" or something.
And he replied to this with some words I can't remember and then I wandered away from him because it was a vaguely painful moment. But I knew we'd be fine.
It got easier after that – I can make eye contact with him and vice versa.
I think that, without saying the words, I have made it clear to Adrian that I don't care about all that stuff from before. Maybe one day I'll tell him I knew like two months before he told me, consciously. On another level, I think I've known for a verrrryy long time.
And maybe one day he'll tell me why he thinks so fucking highly of me. I want him to shower me in compliments.
But that's not fair to ask. Not fair to bask in the affection if I can't return it, y'know?
I don't want to be an asshole.
Maybe I like people who are naturally abrasive, like Sandwich, but people like him still have a certain respect for other human beings. Even with their sort of harsh attitude, hey do not intentionally hurt people.
I don't want to intentionally hurt anyone either.
Things are back to normal with Adrian?? I hope. And I don't sort-of hate him anymore either. Relief.
He said, in the middle of a conversation I won't bother recounting wholly, "I have awkward friends."
Me, "I don't think I have awkward friends... wait. I am the awkward friend."
"Hah! Yes, you are."
And then somehow we got to talking about Liv. I said that she's not awkward. Any awkwardness works for her – it's charming, and this is why so many people love her.
Adrian, with that look on his face that he always has when he makes an observation, said, "I think you're less awkward than Liv."
"?? No, I'm not."
"I mean for me. It's less awkward with you than it is with Liv." He went on to say that I'm "easy to talk to" and??? Whhaatatattat??
That felt nice. People don't often say that about me.
I'm so closed off. It's sort of awful.
I don't know. I love Adrian.
Hey, wanna know something weird?
Ever since I had that month or so of inexplicable Adrian-hate, I've been vaguely worried that I'll like.. fall in love with him or something.
Which, ugh. No.
But still. It's not a completely unfounded thought.
I have already said that I do this thing where sometimes I hate my friends for a period of time and then I love them again, sometimes more than before.
Like with Liv. I almost hated her for like five months. That was only a month after we became good friends! And now she's my BEST friend.
So, like. I guess I just worry there was some kind of subconscious reason for my hate – some kind of fear inside me.
Liv scared me, is my theory. She's honest.
And I didn't start "hating" Adrian until after I found out. I don't know. Maybe it was just a natural reaction. Natural for me, at least.
We got to talk about racism. We split up into groups. I was with the mixed race kids. There were seven of us plus Brock, who is a specific sort of Jew from Eastern Europe – Russia and Poland I think.
It was nice.
I never get to talk about being mixed.
I never get to talk about how out of... place.. I feel. Everywhere. Even with my family sometimes.
And I'm sorry I said it that way – I'm sorry I said I never "get" to. It's not like I'm clambering to do it. I actually try to avoid thinking about being mixed at all.
It just results in me feeling very, very alone.
But this was good. I didn't realize how much it bothered me until I got to talking and I realized – yeah. It's always sorta there. I even try to avoid mentioning that I'm hispanic on here, mostly 'cause I feel like someone will call me out, say I'm a liar because I can't dance and I don't like salsa music and, I dunno, whatever else.
I also didn't realize it bothered other kids as much as it does me.
I was talking with two other hispanic mixed race kids. They're both partly Puerto Rican and they both grew up in New York City, so in a way, I still felt a little alienated – as a kid, all I had as a reminder that I was hispanic was my mom and abuelita.
From what I understand, these guys had a culture where I didn't.
But in the end, we all feel the same way. Like we don't fit. We're not latina enough, not white enough, nothing enough nope nope.
One of the kids doesn't speak spanish. Her dad wouldn't let her learn. I imagine that must be horrible. I mean, I already feel so severed from it all.
But like. The language is the proof. Not really, I just mean that whenever you claim to be hispanic, the first thing people ask is if you speak the language.
And if you don't, they'll say "Oh." They'll think that you're not AS hispanic as anyone who can speak spanish.
So, yeah, I dunno. That must be hard.
I at least have the advantage of being able to speak. Not that I do. I talked about how I'm almost ashamed to speak. Very afraid.
It's kind of stupid when I think about it. The only reason it freaks me out so much is because I got made fun of a little when I was in elementary school. HOW is that still affecting me?
But it is.
I feel stupid whenever I speak. I get really frustrated. I feel like a fake. And... Okay, I know this isn't the truth, but it's like it only serves to remind me that I'm not actually latina and I'm not actually white.
I am this weird in-between.
And it makes me sad. I get to feeling really isolated. What's stupid is that I just avoid considering it at all, though – so in the end, my "latina side" suffers. I don't pay it a lot of attention.
If I'm honest, I try to forget it's there.
I love my mom. I love my family.
I just don't feel like I belong there, and yeah. I'm pretty ashamed of that.
I remember talking about this with Liv, another mixed race baby. Sigh. Why are things so weird? In the world, I mean.
Took a nap before Peer Leadership.
I had a dream there was this neighbor guy who lived in a house that looked exactly like my grandma's. He had a cat.
The cat liked me a lot, but the guy hated me.
But by the end of the dream, he was into me.
It was stupid, a cheesy romantic love-hate type story, but. I don't know. It was also nice.
I like some kinds of romance.
Maybe not the "babe" kind... or the rose petals on a bed type stuff. Or even the fancy restaurant shit.
But, yeah. Romance.
When I woke up, I was a bit sad.
I don't think I'll ever have that teenage romance. Y'know – the ones you hear about on TV or in books?
Where couples go to the movies together, where they hold hands in the hallways, sneak into each other's bedrooms at night.
No, if I ever end up dating someone, it will be during a time in which I am more independent than TV teens. It won't be like this.
I'm a little sad about that.
Love like that seems so... inconsequential? I mean. There's only a certain level to which you can take that relationship. You can't move into together, usually, and you don't raise a family together, usually.
It typically ends in this agreement that the relationship is monogamous, and then you just... date each other, hang out a lot, and it's serious-but-casual.
Maybe I'm wrong. But after high school seems a step up from that. It seems like you can go higher, you can take it farther.
The idea of having that much space to grow with another person – terrifying. I can't grasp it. It's like trying to understand the universe before time. No. Brain ain't big enough.
High school love. You're in a little pot. Roots can only go so far.
This seems safer.
But I think, yeah. I think it's a little too late for that. For me. Unless I manage to like someone enough to risk a relationship with them THIS year (which seems like a long shot, what with all my academic responsibilities and my reluctance to be vulnerable), I'm just. Yeah.....
Alexis has a girlfriend now. She's had girlfriends before, duh, but this one is special.
She said she actually likes her. Alexis normally dates people she's not that into.
I am. Amazed. Happy for her and a little sad too.
Happy because, I mean. That's cute??? I don't even need to explain. It's like being told your best friend is getting married to a dude you approve of. Only not. Okay.......
Sad because she was the one other person who kinda got what I meant when I said I'm not really into relationships. Neither of us understood love, but we were ignorant together!!!
Alexis has now discovered something, though.
She said to me, and I'm paraphrasing as this was actually WEEKS ago, "I used to think this whole dating thing was like friendship but with kissing but it's not. There's like.. something extra. A secret ingredient."
I replied to this with "Plankton," and okay it was just a really good conversation.
It's like seeing actual, concrete proof that God exists.
To think love is actually more than intensified friendship – the rules of reality are not what they seem!
Human beings can communicate with each other through dreams, ghosts are real, flying saucers regularly patrol our night skies, LOVE IS REAL!
That is what it sounds like to me.
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