Confessions

Dear You,

I'm sorry, you know, but I don't think it's working. For a while, it looked like it was. It was fun, we were comfortable together, and so on. But it's really not going anywhere, and it didn't hoestly get anywhere to begin with. We both need real experience in life, and I don't think we're going to get it together. I'm antisocial, and lazy, and need someone who can get me to go places. Even if it's just the cafe or something. You and I, honestly, don't even have real conversations lately. We play our video games, surf the net, go to work/school, and occasionally send each other links of funny/awesome stuff, usually via some web program, despite living in the same apartment.

I know you assume that we're kinda together. We've both declared an interest in the other in the past. But I think I'm kinda over it, now, since we've gone about four months now without even a hint of anything going on. We're comfortable with each other, which I think made us think it could work. For me especially, since there aren't many people I'm comfortable with. Most people, if they get within a few feet of me without a good reason, such as the bus being extremely crowded, put me on edge, and I get fidgety in a pretty bad way if I don't get a break pretty quick. You never put me on edge that way, something I was extremely grateful for.

But I've grown enough now, that I think I can try and find someone who will make me feel some kind of spark besides the one of creativity. We play off each other extremely well in that regard. We always come up with a chain of epic ideas for playing Dungeons and Dragons, for all that we never manage to actually get anywhere. The ideas we come up with are still great.

I think we're both awesome people, and I think that if you were a bit more proactive, and I was a bit less antisocial, there's a chance we could make it work. But I really don't think I want to, to be honest. I think we'd just get bored with each other. You have difficulty keeping up with me, mentally, and I have difficulty keeping up with you, in terms of sociableness and caring.

I'm sorry, but I'm still apathetic, somewhat depressed, antisocial, and not all that nice a person. I've got flaws that I don't think you quite know how to deal with. You like to think you're into apathy, because it seems like a cool concept, and it's a fun excuse for having a few less morals. But really, you care far too much about things in general. I don't know how to explain it. It's not a bad thing, but... I don't know. I was going somewhere with that, but I don't even know what it was. I honestly don't care all that much to be in a relationship right now, even. About the only thing I actually want right now is my family. And maybe to read and write. Other things, like good grades and a job, anything materialistic, even a relationship, are all things that I know I should want, logically need, or remember wanting in the past. Right now, though, I just don't care.

I don't know how to break it to you that I'm just not interested any more. It shouldn't be too hard, since it's pretty clear there's nothing left. We almost hit a few sparks last week, I think, but I think that might have more to do with the fact that we were hanging out with some other friends than actually us. Once again, I think i has to do with our creativity, and the near telepathy we sometimes display, in that we can make innuendo after innuendo, and playing off words in near instinct. But it only works around other people. We never get quite that into the innuendo when it's just us, asit so frequently is anymore. It's almost like it's only fun when there are other people around.

I also don't think it would work because you're just far too innocent. It's difficult to explain properly, really. You're not cynical, you're far too optimistic, don't think ahead, and honestly I don't think you'd be into some of the things I think I like. You're very vanilla. Sweet, but not really my thing.

I can't think of anything more to say to you, really. I hope we work this out soon, because it's one more thing I just don't want on my plate right now.

I just want it done.

Yours,
Me

Lisa,

;___;

I'm gonna miss you so much. I tend to forget when I don't see you for longer than usual, how safe you really make me feel. It so much easier to detach from you this year for some reason. When I do see you in session, though, I feel better. I feel supported. It's nice. That's why I didn't tell you the important things. Like that I'm starving myself, or that I cut again. I'm afraid to lose that safety. I'm afraid to disappoint you and have you leave me, or suddenly find out that you can't handle me. I'm sure I have some kind of unhealthy 'mommy' complex toward you, which hurts really bad every time I leave and remember how easily you could just leave and go work somewhere else. It hurts even more when I think about how my parents treat me in comparison to you.

It's kinda funny when I really think about it. Frank, the first time I came into counseling services, gave me the choice of two therapists, you and Dinah. He told me how you used to be a state trooper and my immediate reaction was to not see you. I tried really hard to avoid having to go to you, because the idea of having to see someone who was police related after everything that had happened made me uncomfortable.

I'm glad I met you. I'm glad that you helped me. I don't think I could have gotten to this point without you, but now I'm always frightened by the thought of whether or not I'll lose you if I really let out what's in my head. I'm worried that if I cut or starve myself and don't tell you, that you'll have to send me to someone else. Please don't leave me. I don't know if I can get away from my dad without you. It childish and stupid, and I'm sure a week without you will change my mind, but right now it's really terrifying.

me

Dear Guy,
I know I have never met you. But I am aware of what you seem to think of me. I know you do not think I am a "good person" because of things you have been told. I would like to set my side of things straight. I will start by saying this, I have worked very hard in my life to get where I am, and I think you have been told a lot of lies about me. I will start with the big one, I wont address what exactly it is but simply give you my defense. I met my husband when we worked together. I was in the end of a very serious long term relationship when I met him, and so was he. We did not date or spend any time together until both of our relationships were over. That is why we are still together today, I believe that a relationship started with cheating will never have the trust it needs. His relationship with "T" ended because she was sending everyone on the internet naked pictures and videos of herself, he found out while fixing her computer. Then too many unanswered questions when she would go out, and questionable "friendships".
Over the next few years of our relationship I endured harassment, the person instigating all off this was guess who! Bar fights because she sent people we don't know over to call me a whore or a slut or whatever else she could think of. Was I always in the right? No. I did make friends with a friend of hers, not because of her or having to do anything with her, but she used to date my husbands brother, we made friends like that, none of the conspiracy theroies were true. My relationship with that girl ran it's course and unfortunatley the bad blood between family and her wasn't able to be overcome. Her ex Jeff and I began talking when he simply contacted me to warn me about the fake myspace she created to read my private blogs. After that we have spoken every so often, and he even did our ice sculpture for our wedding.
Over the past few years I have had to protect myself and my family from fake internet names, on myspace, facebook, parenting boards, on every forum imaginable. This isn't just me saying it, but I have proof. We wanted to file a restraining order, however internet law is not really established. To me it was the worst of stalking. I was no longer comfortable talking to moms I talked to every day of my pregnancy because I never knew if it was her prying for more information in my life. Do I talk to Aimee and Ryan on a regular basis? Yes. How? Why? Because when I caught her stalking me on my pregnancy boards there was a melt down, she was called out, and blamed Aimee, regardless off proof with IP addresses and all from the people running the sites. She posted her personal information out there and told everyone that it was Aimee just trying to make her look bad. Aimee and I became friends, based primarily on our parenting, it began with what had happened between " T" and I , and continued because we had things in common. Soon ryan was in the picture. I will say this, he didn't start out as a person I would talk to and respect. But I have seen him step up. I am afraid you may be under the misconception that he has pushed his son to the side. When it really is not like that at all. He has had many difficulties getting along with his sons mother. When she was cited for child endangerment the courts asked for his information, she told them she didn't have it, however she was still calling him. When she failed to cooperate with Child Services and they set a court date and appointed a Guardian at Liadum she still told thim she did not have his information, regardless of the fact they were communicating regularly on the phone. The GAL had to find him on MYSPACE, after trying to find him on Facebook, unfortunatly he doesn't have a Facebook. It was only then that he found out that his son was found wandering the streets of Avon Lake not once, not twice, but three times in a month? When he found out about her first court date, he asked her point blank, and she told him it happened once and she was "taking care of it". Months later he is contacted becasue it is going to court with Childrens Services and they think he has nothing to do with his son. I feel for him in the worst way. Coming from a family with parents that were split it doesn't seem fair to that little boy. I get that his parents don't get along, but he still wants to know what is going on, but he is constantly lied to.
I do not mean of this in a negative way, but simply to tell you my side, as I do not appreciate the way I have been referred to. I believe that the universe sends back to you what you put out there. I have worked hard to put positive things out into the world, and I am sorry if this seems negative, but I have worked to hard, and been through too much to not stand up for myself. I am sure this will not change how you think of me, and I am sure this will just be thrown into the "she is trying to ruin my life" pile of things, but I don't care. I work hard to better myself, and nowt hat I have said my peace you can think whatever you want about me. But if you knew me, you would know that I work hard for my family, that no matter how I get them, my friends are just as important, this would be obvious by the fact that I am friends with the same people I have been friends with since middle school. So before you deem me not a good person, remember that everyone has a side and a story.

Skits,

You're probably going to jail. God-damnit. I'm sorry you fucked up your life like that, but I'm not going to feel sorry for you getting what you deserve. Maybe a few months in jail will clear your head. Maybe not.

Foto,

I think you remind me of Amyx so much that I'm falling for you a little bit. You taught me how to close tonight at work and I had that horrible giddy schoolgirl thing going on. Ugh! It's awful and I know you can tell I'm flirting with you. But, you're cool and if you ever warm up to me, I think it would be fun to hang out. Or, you know, fuck like rabbits on your couch. Whatever

Superman,

Why are you so fucking nice to me? Whatever the reason, thank you. You rock my socks completely off.

- MH

Dear Oven,

You and I, we've bonded a lot over the past couple of years. We've done four Christmas dinners, three Thanksgiving meals, and thousands of meals in between. We haven't skipped a single day.
Dad must think we're the best of friends by now, but I have news for him:
I HAVE A LIFE.
I'm a teenager. I'd like to live like one, and not like a mature adult. (At least not yet...)
I love to cook, but for once, I'd like a day off. You understand, don't you, oven? Don't you want a day off too?
We should totally go on strike.

Love,

Your apparent best friend

Welllllll..... I was Jason's girlfriend for a whole 36 hours. Monday - Wednesday, then yesterday he decided that he "just wasn't ready after all", so over boys. All it made me do was miss Kyle. I'm kind of over all this dating shit, I just wanna get married.

addicted to dog the bounty hunter and gangland jail shows

shhhh

From recent events, I can't help but reflect on the event itself.
How you did it, what you said, where I was, the ways I found out.

Some look at it and laugh, some commiserate, some see it as a gift.
You had a lot of nerves, a lot of guts, to do what you did. You basically threw away the best thing you ever had.

All the time we were together, I believed you.

When you said you loved me, I believed you.
When you said you wanted to be with me, I believed you.
When you said I made you happy, I believed you.
When you said everything was okay, I believed you.
When you said we'd always have each other, I believed you.

But inside of me, I took them all with a pinch of salt, rolled my eyes slightly, but let the doubt dissipate.
But the reality of the situation was that they were lies.
We HAD each other; we had ALL of each other. I gave you all of my soul -- you held my heart in your hands. I thought you were the greatest person I'd ever met -- I respected you.

I worked so hard for you -- I wanted to make you happy.

I sacrificed my time waiting for you. Waiting to see you, to hear from you, waiting for you to love me.

...But like all impatient humans, I grew tired of waiting.

And I waited until I could catch you in the act, waited until the moment came along where seeing was believing. When you said you were cheating, I believed you...

And it was one of the only times that I didn't doubt a statement you told me, didn't take it with a pinch of salt and didn't roll my eyes.

Two weeks after you left and said your ostentatious farewell speech, I found him. He was an odd fellow -- short, shaved, and with a slightly dorky smile. His friendly, yet down-to-earth demeanor impressed me. Unlike you, he wasn't surrounded with negativity -- he looked like he had a true appreciation for life, a "joie de vivre" of sorts, even though the status indicated by his jacket would suggest differently. His societal role immediately caused me to make the judgment, "You're a brave man."

...He hasn't gone halfway across the country -- he's gone halfway around the world. Twice. He knew how to relate to me within minutes. We talked for hours and I needed to know more of him. He was a fascinating creature -- a loner, but posessing "the gift of gab."

I smiled more than I had in a long time. While I had grown to distrust men, I felt at ease and for once, felt truly appreciated. He just looked like he needed some company for the evening. I was more than happy to oblige.

I respect him because he's genuinely a great MAN. Remember how we used to criticize the country we were born in? Remember how we used to pretend we "hated" America?

I look at that and regret it more than I regret succumbing to your false promises.

If this man has taught me anything, it's an appreciation for the place I'm in. There's a darker side of this world. And no, it's not in a video game or at three o'clock in the morning unpacking boxes.

When I first met him, he reminded me of you. He seemed lonely, and slightly out of place. But he's genuine; he's honest. He's more of a man to admit that he's afraid of loving me than to tell me lies about how he feels. For me, that's as respectful as it gets. He cares about my emotions and doesn't juggle them around like you did.

Sometimes, I miss the discussions we had. But then I think about the underlying doubt in them and about how hard I tried to make you happy when you didn't even know how to become happy yourself.

As much as I would love to credit myself with the accomplishment of turning you around, fixing you, and giving you the happiness I once thought you deserved; I can't. Only you can do that. As I said before we separated, "I've done my part -- it's time for you to do yours."


I don't need luck in this life -- my willpower and heart will guide my future. I suggest you take the same initiative.

Sometimes, getting better is not about getting through the challenges of life -- it's getting over them.

Dear HRE

You keep whining about how nobody can help you, nobody is willing to help you, but the truth is we can't help you if you don't open yourself up to being helped. I can't help you if you don't open up and really it's not my place to help you with some of these issues. You should really talk to a councilor or a chaplin about some of these problems. I'm not qualified to help you with them. I know I've probably pissed you off, but you piss me off sometimes, reminding me of me from last year.

I talk to you and I see me from a year ago. A girl who was too shy to get out of her dorm room, who never had anyone over, who didn't have a social life. I lived, breathed, and slept on the internet. I just couldn't do it anymore. I jumped on the chance for a life. You talk to me, you're like "I go out and do what I need to" but you don't talk. I understand you're an introvert, I'm one as well. But you can't expect people to talk to you if you give off vibes of being left alone. Trust me I know.

Try to live a little dear.

Yours,
'Merica.

C-
I'm in love with you. There- I said it..and I shouldn't be because M is such a nice guy n would go to the end of the world for me n actually talks about his feelings n takes me on dates unlike you..its been 7 months, by now I would of said fuck it if it was any other guy..but I can't..I care about uou on another level..I'd do anything for you..even give the game up... I just wish we could figure this out..

Dear N,
Six years now… six long years we’ve been friends and this is how you treat me? Like a freaking after thought? Thanks. I don’t want to sound like a bitter jealous bitch or something but honestly I don’t know who you are anymore.
Just because your boyfriend’s feeling angry, moody or sad some day, it doesn’t mean you have be too and then proceed to take it out on others. Okay, I get that you’re dating, you have this “connection”, you “feel bad that he feels that way and it makes you feel that way too” but seriously could you be you for maybe an hour or something?
Just because your boyfriend comes into the area, it doesn’t mean your friends have magically ceased to exist, especially when we were sitting with you for more than a hour.
So you’re having problems in this almost one year relationship, but lets not tell Sam because you have other friends to rant to, but wait, those friends aren’t available at the moment and you really need to rant, let’s remember about that girl! She’s always there!
Oh no, your boyfriend didn’t come to school today, your other friends are busy or in class (and because you have this thing where you don’t like being alone in public because it makes you look like a loner) let’s remember that Sam has a break at this time, she’ll obviously stop that important essay she was working on and listen to your problems and give you advice and keep you company until your other friends/boyfriend show up.
You know what? Let’s not officially introduce your boyfriend to Sam. No, in fact, let’s let her find out on your birthday (that its been at least three months at the time since you’ve been dating) but not even from you. Oh no, let someone else at your party tell her while you say “Hey! This is my friend, A, you know, the one I (never) talked to you about!”
And you know, let’s completely forget about all the things Sam has done and stuck by you through these past many years, and when Sam needs and asks for your support you nod and say “Yeah, don’t worry, I got your back,” but then ignore her the next day (and the following two months) and only ever say hi when you feel like it.

Yes. Thank you N,
Samantha Isabelle.

♥ ♥
Dear Father
THANK YOU.
I just love how you shot down and smashed my dream into a million tiny tiny tiny microscopic unfixable pieces. Really, your words are just so amazing and inspirational.
“Thank you for your support, thank you for your encouragement, thank you, thank you, thank you. Really, I can’t thank you enough for everything.” I really want to say those words to you one day, but after you just shattered the one thing I really want in this world, I don’t think I can.

Just so you know,
I don’t care anymore if you’ll get angry, or hate me or whatever else in the end…
I’m still going to apply for that university. I’m still going to do Journalism and Business Administration-Advertising/Marketing. I’m still going to study abroad. I’m still going to pursue that career and even though I nodded and said, “okay dad, I’ll do something else” I don’t mean it, I never meant any word of it.

Just you watch,
I’m graduating from college in May, and once June comes I’m out of here pursuing that dream one way or another.

Your Daughter

Dear Mom.

I've come to the realization that I'll never gain your approval for anything that I do in my life for either myself or for you. I've exhausted myself of trying to appease you and making decisions that will make you proud; and this is because I never get the approval or even a satisfied nod from you. Maybe it's some sort of tactic to keep me always on my toes, to never stop trying hard, and to never settle for second-best, but sometimes, I need your encouragement to keep going. It seems that nothing I do will ever make you happy with me or even proud of me, and I have to cajol you to say that you are proud of me, and even then, it's forced and has a sense of bitterness and disappointment. I've tried so hard to make you happy, from sticking with piano lessons for twelve years to applying for college, and in every attempt I make, you simply ignore my plea for approval. Is it so hard to tell your youngest daughter that you're proud of her for what she's accomplished and that you love her, regardless of all her failed endeavors? Every time you come close to telling me you're proud of me, you end the conversation with, "I don't know why you want me to tell you that I'm proud of you when you could've done better." Give me a break, please. I need some encouragement before I feel like giving up on everything.

When I was young, I was always daddy's little girl; I never needed your approval because I always had dad to settle back on, and I let him save the day. At the same time, I was scared of you. I was scared that I'd do something wrong, that I'd mess something up, and you'd come charging in on me, screaming and hitting me. You never abused me, but there were moments that I lived in a constant fear of you. It was your temper that drove us apart. The time that I hadn't practiced the piano well enough and you sat me down on the piano bench, demanding to know why I hadn't practiced; and when I hadn't answered in the way you wanted me to, you pulled my hair, causing me to scream in pain. I couldn't have been much older than eight. You were so upset that you held me crying, apologizing; and I forgave you because I loved you, and I was afraid. I tried so hard in school to get those straight A's, but I always fell short on getting B's. You weren't disappointed in me, but you always made me feel as though I could do better, and for that, I'm glad. I never realized then how you were impacting me to never settle for a mediocre grade, that even if it wasn't bad, there was always room for improvement. It sounds like a harsh lesson, but it's a good one, and I'm thankful for your steady pushing at my will. But it was when you started comparing me to your Korean friends' children that made me upset. I was always apologetic that I hadn't gotten that A like Sarah had, and I was always sorry that a teacher favored Elizabeth more than she did with me.

You never built my self-esteem. I struggled all through childhood with my weight issues because of you. When I was less than eight years old, you and my older sister sat there and laughed at me, telling me that I had "hot dog" legs. That night that I ran to my room, crying and screaming, "I don't want to be fat! I'm sorry I can't be pretty for you" and all you did was pat my back sympathetically. "You can be prettier if you just lost some weight." Who tells that to their nine year old daughter? I wasn't even in middle school. I had no reason to care about my self-image. I wasn't even morbidly obese. I was just a few pounds past average. I still ran as fast as the other boys, and I could climb trees just as well as they could. My weight then never held me back, but you made me feel as though it did. You'd always find something to pick at me about, from my acne when I was just starting puberty to the dorky clothes I'd wear. I never cared about getting contacts, but you thought that I needed them so that I'd fit in while I was in the sixth grade. You paid five thousand dollars when I was in ninth grade to fix the slight gap I had. It was just a slight gap, but you just had to mold me into your "perfect" and ideal daughter because your oldest screwed hers up.

I continued piano lessons up until we thought we couldn't afford it anymore because you guilt-tripped me into it. You'd talk about how much it cost, and how you wanted me to be good at least one thing. You'd compare me to Sarah, and you'd comment how she was better at the piano than I was, and if I just practiced, I'd be just as good. Well, I played the piano because it was fun and something I enjoyed thoroughly. I liked playing well, but I was more into the passion of playing rather than the tecnique, but you never appreciated that. When I took band in middle school, you wanted me to play the piano, but I convinced you that they didn't have a pianist in the junior high band. As high school came into the picture, you wanted me to give up all that hard effort I made into playing the trumpet and trade it up for playing the piano-keyboardist in the high school band. I had to, yet again, convince you that playing the trumpet was something I wanted to do. You were proud of me, but you never told me so. I had to pretend that while you were watching my games, you were proud that I was marching and playing my ass off. One night, one of the first few times that I marched at a game, you came to watch me beause it was the only free night that you had off work; I was happy that you were there, so much so that I had butterflies, but I heard afterwards that you'd just complained about the shitty weather. "Good job." That was it. You had no comment about how well I played or how well I marched. I wanted some sort of feedback, and I even asked for it, and you simply shrugged and said, "You did good. I don't know."

When I failed precalculus the first time, you were disappointed in me. I can understand because I was, too. But you gave up on me the second time I failed it. You gave me no encouragement, so I suffered through on my own. I didn't have dad to rely on this time because he'd just gotten back from jail, and he was the bad guy. So, if I couldn't go to dad, who else but you could I turn to? You'd just shrug your shoulders and tell me that it was my life and my mistakes I was making. So, I finally pushed through and beat it, and all you said, with a laugh, "Finally." No congratulations, no encouragement - not even a speech. It was because of my sister's failures that you were giving up on me. You gave up on her, and when I showed signs of disappointment, you gave up on me before I had a chance to prove you wrong. When I applied for college, I came to you and told you what I'd done. And instead of being happy, you simply scoffed and said, "It's about time." It wasn't the reaction I was expecting or hoping for. It hurt my feeling that you didn't think I'd do it or that I'd fucked up and waited too long. I wanted you to be as happy as I was about getting back into school and doing something with my life. I suppose I failed again in my expectations of you.

So, when will I be good enough for you? When will I be skinny enough, pretty enough, talented enough, and smart enough for you? Just for once in your life, tell me that you're sincerely proud of me and what I've done, that even though it's taken me this long to get back up on my feet, you love and accept me for who I am. I don't care that you pretend still that I'm straight even though I came out to you three years ago, I don't care that you crack inappropriate jokes that hurt my feelings - I just want you to be proud of me and make me feel as though I'm doing something in my life that's worthwhile to you. Because a mother's approval is something that a daughter will always secretly crave.

conflicted,
your youngest daughter.

B,

What gives you the right to text me out of the blue like that? No hi, no hello for FOUR MONTHS and then just, "omg I hate college finals".
Why did we have to start flirting? Why didn't I tell you I have a boyfriend? Why can't I get over you?
You shouldn't have called me sweetie, and I shouldn't have called you honey. I shouldn't have even answered the text. (There are a lot of "shouldn't" things between us, aren't there?")
If you're doing this on purpose, it isn't funny. You seriously need to stop making me love you.
Please. It isn't fair.

Love
Your friend,

M

JL
Why am I so scared of you?

Youre lovely!

***

TC
Why am I so in love with you?

I have never really spoken to you.
We kissed once.
It's always INSANLEY awkward.

But I keep dreaming about you, and I like you...
Why?

I want you!

***

JM

Sunday was one of the best days in a while.
It made me miss you, so, so much.

I have a feeling that'll be the last time that will ever happen though, which makes me really sad.

It made me miss you, even though I haven't been.

***

Dear You,

So I couldn't think straight yesterday. You consumed my thoughts in a way that was so unwelcome that if I could I would beat your ass down; even though you haven't done anything wrong, well except existing. That in and of itself is distracting enough most of the time.

Stupid heart! Stupid brain! Stupid ME! Man I'm such a heart break whore. I need to stop.

So could you possibly stay out of my thoughts? Maybe... possibly... please.

You are far away and that should be enough, but it doesn't seem to be the case.

Please for the love of my remaining sanity get out of my thoughts.

Jo