Mollana , 25

"You care too much."
"I don't respond to your e-mails because I just don't care."
"You're just another person."

There you have it. That was the ending of my good day yesterday. Needless to say, I'm hurt. I'm in no way looking for sympathy. I've put myself in these positions on my own. I suppose I thought I was strong enough to re-build a friendship with him, but that can only be done if there's a mutual effort. I'm just his past that I guarantee he'd assume never existed.

I should back up a bit...

It had been a week since he texted me. Monday night, he was bored, and for whatever reason, I was in an exceptional mood, so I agreed to hang out. We joked around the entire night. You know, it was as if there were no hard feelings between us at all. We watched (and actually watched) The Devil's Reject and part of Hitman. He took me home in the morning, and things were good.

Me and my girls (and some of our guys) go to this bar, Duffy's, for dollar beer nights. We get there, and he's there with his friend and roommate, Brandon. I was instantly on nerve because my best friend (and sister) has no idea that I've been seeing him on occasion. In fact, she had no idea we were even casually texting. I didn't want her to know. Brandon and Seth kept looking back at us. It made me kind of sick to my stomach, but nothing was said, and after awhile, they left. I let loose for the rest of the night there.

He texts me around 11:45 and asked me what I was doing later which I had actually expected. After a few more texts, he asked if I wanted to hang out later. I very STUPIDLY agreed, and he picked me up from my house around 1:45. He was automatically different from the night before. He was just intentionally being a dick, and of course, I was intoxicated so I took it all to heart.

We put in a movie and started drinking beer (and eventually playing uno..?), but I was far too anxious and drunk to sit still. I wanted to talk, and I was going to force it. He wouldn't answer, so I decided to write it down instead which is so fucking stupid, but I didn't think so at the time. I eventually just drank more, didn't talk, and reminisced. You know how in the movies when there are flashbacks, it's as if you're actually reliving that moment? You can feel it. You can smell it. Everything. I've never experienced something that intense, but as I looked around the basement, everything hit me. It hit hard. I was seeing things that I barely remembered normally from the very beginning of our friendship. The flashbacks grew in intensitiy, and I actually started tearing up. He was still watching the movie, actually noticed, and started asking why I was crying. I denied it and got up to look at his room. I just stared in the doorway which apparently he didn't like at all, but I could't help it. I was seeing everything, and it was killing me. He basically pulled me out of the room and decided to answer the questions.

"I don't answer these questions because I know you won't like the answers..." That started everything. His answers became more vicious and painful. I was sobbing. He really didn't care... at all... about anything in my regards. He made that so fucking clear. I told him that I never initiated conversation with him, that he didn't have to. I asked him why he even hung out with me. He didn't know. I told him to just stop communicating with me. "Gotcha." I asked him to promise, and he said no. He's not letting me move on, but worse yet, I'm not letting myself move on. I don't know how. I've never had these feelings. I never thought I would find someone who I would allow to break down that fucking wall. Dammit, I've been so fucking vulnerable with him.

And now he has me scared to express. He has me terrified that nobody will ever care. Nobody should hold this power, but he does, and it pisses me off. I don't know how to tell him no and mean it. He knows that. He knows how to manipulate his way back into my life. He knows that his smile, him telling me how he thinks I'm beautiful, his apologies can make or break me. I've never been like this. And still, nobody but him knows I'm like this. I have this tough, sarcastic exterior with everyone else. He got past that.

I don't know how to fix me.

So, you know how I said I hadn't thought much of my ex lately? Days after that entry, he was texting up a storm. At first everything was strictly sarcastic and normal, but after awhile, he felt it all right to bring out the names and called me a cunt (which normally doesn't bother me) and then a dyke. Usually, I'd shrug it off and find something equally as offensive to him because apparently our maturity levels are through the roof, but he pushed me hard. I showed anger which I suppose is what he was aiming for, so he started mocking. I believe I ended that conversation with: You can basically go fuck yourself now. He said something in response, but there wasn't much I said afterward so he left it alone.

...And then he called me later that night at about one. I didn't answer - not necessarily because I didn't want to (I was bored and itchin' to yell), but because I was on the phone with my younger sister. Three calls later, and I hang up with Jess and just go off. Yeah, I'm sure that's what he was gearing for, but he was just going too far. He repeated over and over again that he just wanted to hang out, that I needed to "get over it" and allow him to pick me up. Again: fuck you - and I hung up. He texted me to which I said something along the lines that all I wanted to do was to go off on him. "Well, let me pick you up, so you can do it properly." And stupidily, I did.

I was shaking the whole time I was waiting for him. I was pacing back and forth, almost in tears, because this fucker had me so worked up. I was going over what I was going to say to him, but when I got in the car, I couldn't speak. I couldn't look at him. I knew that if I did, I'd lose it. I don't even really know why.

So, we got to his house and went to his basement like we normally do. There was talk of putting in a movie (just as a routine) but that never happened. He grabbed me a beer, he ate McDonalds, and I barely spoke. Finally, he started talking of his trip to Chicago, of his ex which still tears me apart, and just about everything else - excluding anything about what was said that night. We actually were conversing, though, which isn't something we do anymore. We used to be best friends - talk on the phone for hours, go on walks and talk, lay in bed and talk. Now, it's difficult. I feel that every time I'm ready to say something personal, something needing to be said, he has an insult or rude remark on the tip of his tongue. It's like he longs to belittle me. He was never like this, you guys. This is not who I fell in love with. That guy doesn't even exist anymore, but it's hard to differenciate just by sight, so I'm lost when I look at him.

He did apologize. We were laying down, about to pass out, and he said: Sorry for being an asshole earlier. I really wasn't aware... I wish he would have just left it at an apology. He always begins to, but then backs out with some ridiculous statement. I didn't tell him it was okay or not to worry about it. I didn't say anything because it's not okay. It wouldn't have mattered if I did. The kid apologizes so much, but I guarantee he means little of it.

I've threatened to back off numorous times. I know the only way to get my point across is to actually follow through with the threat. It's difficult. I've always said that he was the one person I couldn't do without in my life, but I've actually come to realize that he's the one person I need to let go. I can't go on like this any longer. Never has one person made me feel so insignificant. Never has one person made me feel so dependent. I've actually always considered myself a strong person. Fuck, I've helped people get out of situations exactly like this, but I've never been so unsure of how to fix something.

I think I'm bothered by the fact that I don't think my absence would affect him at all. I want him to feel something negative. Fuck, that is what he deserves, but unless he needs some entertaining, my existance matters little. Do you know what he told me just before his trip? He told me that I was too dramatic towards him. FUCK HIM! I guarantee he sees anything I say as dramatic because he just doesn't want to be forced to realize what he has done.

The beginning of this entry is a quote from the Notebook. It's what I want. I want to see him and not long for him, but be happy for him.

I guess by Saturday he might be "with" someone else. It's not him being with someone else that bothers me, but the fact that my existance will further be disregarded until he's hurt again. Part of me knows that that's exactly what I need - him gone. It's doesn't make it any easier.

Donating plasma hurts my soul. All right, it's actually pretty surfaced with a bruise, but it's still painful nonetheless. My entire right arm is basically "dead-legged" and useless. It would be worth it, probably, if this donating plasma was a selfless act of mine. It's not - I'm just broke. Tits.

I haven't done much over the last few days. My sisters "25th'" birthday was yesterday, so we went downtown and drank our lives away. It was a mad good time. I've met a grip of new people that I'm pretty excited about. Living near the tool has never been easier. I think about him little unless he texts me (which, as repetitive as this sounds, is always initiated by him). Living on the Oregon coast as totally kept my mind closed to all things cultured, I've recently discovered. One would think that Lincoln, Nebraska would be the last place to show me diversity, but it's not. I dooo love it here. Again.

As previously mentioned, the bastard has been texting me. I might have stated in the last entry that I cut ties with him. I promise you - easier said than done. He's begged his way back into this acquaintance-ship too easily. I love this kid, yes, but I don't think I'm necessarily opposed to living life without him. I never thought I'd be able to say that. He was "my life" (yes, I turned into one of "those" girls for him - fuck) for over three years. I'm ready to come into my own again.

He called me his bitch today. He's actually said that before, but I had a comeback for this one, one that totally caught him off guard. I told him that my liking/disliking of him was not proportioned what-so-ever. He asked what I meant, and I told him that I despised him more than I liked him, and that made it impossible to be his bitch. He told me I was mean, and stopped talking. He's a tool - a fucking tool.

I'm ready for another relationship now. I know for a fact that this one wouldn't be to force myself to move on which has been the case with just about every "relationship" I've been in since Seth. I'm not going out looking, but I'm ready, and it feels fucking great.

You don't even know...

le sigh.
Yes, I'm the only one who's been through heartbreak. Yes, I'm the only one who understands. Joke. I sound like a self-absorbed cunt. That's not really the case, but I will end this entry with this:

It's all right to be selfish every once in awhile. (emphasis on once in awhile, you conceited bastards) I wonder when people will get that.

So, when I moved, I moved with the determination to calm down my drinking. This past summer, with all my bitching and complaining, my friend, Carry, and I were constantly drinking on the beach. It's how we wound down. It's how we energized ourselves. It's how we communicated. I don't think I could technically call myself an alcoholic because it didn't bother me physically nor mentally when we would go without, but I can honestly say it could have gotten to that point.

...So, I didn't want that when moving. I'm drinking less often, but still about twice a week. We have our "girls nights" on Tuesday because Duffy's has dollar beers which really has potential to fuck me over, and then we go out at least once during the weekend. I know I've only been here for two weeks, but seriously, it seems that I'm drinking more times than not. It's really bugging me, but I hate staying in. I suppose I could still go out and not drink, but really? What's the fun in that?

The rants and ravings of an up and coming alcoholic. - That should really be the title of this journal. Whatever, I'm being hard on myself.

At least I'm not out fucking the walking STD's I've heard hang around downtown. At least my legs are closed.

I've had a shit ton of fun, though. I've met so many people which I was somewhat worried about. With my depression phase, I felt as though I lost most social skills. Not true, though.

As for Seth, I've seen him twice. Once, he picked me up after the bars, and we hung out and drank more. I didn't sleep with him, I promise you that, but we weren't necessarily innocent. I feel like a whore. I'm not going to say it'll never happen again because I'm tired of that sort of contradiction, but at this point in time, the thought of him is making me sick.

No lie, this guy is treating me like shit. I don't really know why I stand for it. I love him, you know.. rather, I love who he used to be. That person doesn't really exist anymore, but it's hard to differenciate just by sight, so I get caught up in it. He deliberately brings up his current bitches. I was all right with that for awhile, but it's to the point, now, when he does it just to get a rise out of me. I've cut communication with him because of it. He's tried apologizing more and more, but I've stuck with it. I'm just curious to know how many times he thinks one word can fix everything.

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I haven't found a job yet, but I have been selling my body for plasma donations. It's this kind of whoring that makes life worth living.

I'm just damn excited to be away from Oregon.