The Pseudo Diary of a Real Girl

August 9, 20081

4:30 am:2

So I’m trying my damnedest to convince myself of something that I know is true isn’t. Now it’s a hard task, we all know that. But I’m failing more miserably than I ever expected that I could. The girl that is so good at lying to everyone about things she wants to deny and truthfully can’t, can’t even lie to herself. Even if it would make me fall asleep. Even if it could stop the world from ending. I know that I’d never accomplish such a difficult task. To convince myself that this isn’t true I’d need… I don’t even know what I’d need but it would me a hard thing to come by I can assure you that. 3

This room is spinning slightly and my head is aching from lack of sleep but I cannot sleep. I lay my head down and I am bombarded by thoughts… I don’t like thoughts right now… it’s not the thoughts really it’s the doubts. I’m haunted by doubts. Doubting things is something I’m good at, but I never thought that I’d run from these doubts in this way. I have never tried so damn hard to NOT doubt in my life. Doubting leads to panicking which leads to brash decisions. And I am one known for my brash decisions. And right now brash decisions are the LAST thing I need to muck up my life (my big mouth can do that on its own. Not that my big mouth doesn’t have a huge helping hand from my fast moving brain that has a built-in “don’t-think-before-you-speak” chip that I’d kill to have removed, permanently.). 4

But what I’m avoiding and trying to convince myself isn’t true is that, it’s a shocker it really is, I’m addicted to you. That I need you. Need you in every way imaginable. That without you I can’t function properly point-in-case I’m not sleeping right now because you’ve screwed up my schedule. Not on purpose of course but nonetheless I am the one awake at 4:51 in the morning writing this. And why am I writing this? Honestly, I have no idea. Maybe I think it’ll be therapeutic, that once I’m done, laying my head down will result in more than doubts and instantaneous thoughts of “I wanna text him, call him. Talk to him somehow. I wanna hear his voice telling me he loves me and misses me.” 5

I know it’s the clingiest thing you have probably ever heard but it’s true I’ve not talked to you in such a long time (21 hours, to be precise) that I’m going through a withdrawl. Blame it on the breakdown I had this morning, or on my shitty day, or on the adamant doubts that are leaving me tossing and turning in a very restless sleep. But I know what it truly is… I’m addicted. And I know of no 12 step program that can keep me “clean”. Mostly because I cannot not talk to you. I have to, everyday. It’s scary to admit it but I also hear admitting you have a problem is the first step… but do they have AA meetings for getting adjusted to not talking to you? I sincerely doubt it. I’m also sure you’d agree. 6

Just like if I texted you right now, I’d be bothering you. Because we both know you need your sleep. More than anything you need your sleep, which is exactly why I’m not talking to you right now. And with that being the reason I hate myself for feeling this way. But I know there has been a change in our relationship because of last night/this morning, because of all the things I said that didn’t come out right. I can’t tell you how sorry I am, deeply sorry. Not that sorry helps any at all. I’m fighting the urge not to text you right now, it’s a battle but so far I’ve won. But the realizations about the shift in our relationship combined with the lack of your voice (which I’m directly contributing to the change in our relationship) is making me cry. Usually that would make me sleep, crying myself to sleep, my how emo? But the tears do nothing to abate my fears. It actually seems that they are powering them, feeding them, energizing them in a way. How can that be possible? Because they add solidified proof that I have something to cry over, making me doubt even more.7

So before I make a complete ass out of myself, I bid you Adieu. Goodnight and fair well. 8

4:00 pm:9

The most amazing thing happened. I know that sounds so cliché but it’s the god’s honest truth, it was amazing. In a weird way at least. The guy I’ve been completely suspicious of having a huge pre-pubescent crush on me actually made a move! Well “a move” is one way to describe it, I’m sure it’s his way of doing so. But really it was more of a flounder around for exactly how to ask me while trying to make it sound casual. So when he stammered out “if you’re not working sometime maybe me and you could hang out?” I was so shell-shocked I meekly said “Sure.” Well then he smiled the cheesiest “I’m-so-happy” smile that I felt bad. Because not only was he overly excited about something that will most likely never come to fruition but also I knew that I’d see him again seeing he’s a frequent shopper at the hell-hole I call my job. And knowing that you’ve most likely led someone on is a horrible feeling to live with. I could never understand how girls could be teases, do they have no conscience? 10

It’s not that he’s ugly, he’s not. But he is definitely not my type. I have high standards in a man. 11

1) He has to be tall. Not just taller than me, but about 6’ will do.12

2) He has to be muscular, not body builder-esque, but enough so that he can handle himself in a fight.13

3) He has to be a southern gentleman, complete with “Ma’am”’s and “Sir”’s. 14

4) He has to have a southern accent as well, one that will positively have me melted at his feet the moment he says he loves me.15

5) He has to look good in camouflage. No not good, magnificent. 16

6) He has to be kind to everyone.17

7) He can curse, smoke, drink and hang-out with anyone he wants but he should ALWAYS make me his first priority. (I don’t consider this too demanding seeing as I will always make him first on my list, but that is me being clingy again. Woo-hoo!)18

8) He has to make family a large priority as well, I mean I don’t want the guy who’s been on the run from a mother-from-hell. If I can accept my mother’s deficiencies than he must as well. 19

See not too demanding, right?20

Well the only one of my qualities that über happy guy possesses is numero uno. He’s tall. But he has dark brown hair and a matching beard/goatee thing really it can’t decide what it wants to do. This may sound mean but he’s not the party-going southern socialite army man that seems to be the cumulative of my standards. Not that I’m saying he has nothing going for him. He may do. But I am not about to try and find out. And really there is only one reason that Mr. Goatee-Happy-Pants isn’t on my agenda and that reason is my heart and soul is in Virginia. 21

Yes that is where my heart is until August 25 or 26. It shall reside in the chest of the man I love until then. And even when he returns, even if he leaves and walks away for some bimbo-luscious size zero blonde, it will remain in his possession. 22

And when I arrived home I believed that this anecdote would make for a funny story. So as I retold the blow-by-blow to my mom and her eyebrows rose into the disappearing edge of her bangs I knew my belief was wrong, oh so wrong. She took this as an opportunity to remind me that I shouldn’t be tied down at such a young age. “Play the field” she told me earnestly, which only confirmed my suspicions that she can never be happy for me and you. That no matter how happy I am and no matter how entertaining this story was for me she’d always find a way to tell me about how I could do so much better. When I repeated myself half a dozen times that I love you, that no matter how many guys (or girls considering Charity still has a huge lesbo crush on me) I will never leave you for them. I could never leave you for the obvious reasons but if you need them spelled out I shall do so:23

1) I love you24

2) You love me25

3) I could never love someone this much, let alone try to26

4) No one could ever love me as much as you do27

5) I can’t picture my life without you28

6) I’m addicted29

And there are the Top 6 reasons. There are more. But I think those sum it up in a way that needs no further explanation or at least I think it doesn’t. 30

9:45:31

I’ve reached a conclusion that will shock the majority of “trend” obsessed teens that are firm believers in the well-known franchise of Taco Bell™. Well believers beware, Taco Bell™: IS NOT REAL MEXICAN FOOD! Authentic Mexican food tastes completely different. And as I sat there missing my quesadilla from a quasi Mexican restaurant named above I had to endure the most inane conversation ever recorded (if it had been recorded that is). I sat there for more than a half hour pretending to be engrossed in a Mexican rag ironically called “Hoy!” which translated means “Today!”. The irony comes into play when I mention that all the news was about 2-3 weeks old and had been over-analyzed so much that it doesn’t even seem believable anymore. 32

And to top off my inane day I shall inanely go to sleep… or call you. How great it would be to hear your voice right now!33