| i love break ups |
[28 Jun 2005|10:58pm] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
 angry |
] |
this is a million times worse than that break up with rob so many years ago. i thought that was bad. it was cake.
text message inbox: fuck u. i am in love. u r just thinking about how bad this has hurt u and not me as well. stop telling me how in love u r if you only want to end it bc im not living with u.
outbox: NO FUCK YOU!! THE ONLY REASON I FUCKING WORKED TONIGHT ON 2 HOURS SLEEP & PICKED UP SHIFTS WAS BECAUSE IM GETTING YOU A FUCKING AWESOME BIRTHDAY PRESENT SO DONT TELL ME I'M ONLY THINKING OF MYSELF!! FUCK YOU!!
yeah. fuck him. (not).
|
|
| Hey! Hey! Hey! |
[27 Jun 2005|11:19pm] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
 crappy |
] |
So how the hell do I stop myself from hurting so bad? I know exactly what I need to do. I need to move on.
|
|
| ten times |
[26 Jun 2005|12:39am] |
|
i would've killed myself ten times over for you. shame that pure luck got in the way because i would have been dead by now.
|
|
| sick |
[25 Jun 2005|11:36pm] |
|
I’m so sick of this.
I’m sick-
Nauseous in my stomach, in my heart, in my mind
sick of listening to your soothing voice
sick of looking into your beautiful blue-green eyes
That instantly change color when you’re happy
sick of pretending that it’s all ok
Sick of avoiding your calls
Sick of drinking you away
Sick of remembering your genuine smile
Sick of wishing everything was all ok
Sick of carving your name into my arm
And loving the pain
Sick of being the person I never wanted to be
Sick of craving your touch
Sick of caressing the nape of your neck
With the tip of my tongue
Sick of staring at the stars, bawling -
Wishing you were here
Sick of convincing myself that one day
We will be together
Again
Sick of smoking
A million cigarettes
Because they fell better than food
Sick of not being able to sleep
Because all I want is you there with me
Lying in bed naked and it just feels right
Sick of not being able to delete the photographs
Of you in my head
Of all the good times we once shared
Of all the goofy laughs
Of all the jokes
Of the times you held me in your arms
Of your warm porno kisses
Of all the times you stayed to vacuum
The dirty restaurant floor
For me
Just for me
Of all the times we had our petty fights
And I knew you were always right
I’m sick of wanting you back
I’m sick of regretting what I did wrong
And what I would have changed
I’m sick of wanting to stop
The flow of tears that just refuses to cease
I’m sick of loving the puppy
That you bought to make me happy
I’m sick of thinking back to the deli
Where I worked just to be close to you
Just to stare at your ass
And think of the Dockers commercial
And just how goddamn good your butt looked
And you would sit in the corner reading the Post
On your break
Eating chicken noodle soup drowned in Tabasco
I’m sick of waiting for your call
To tell me how much you love me
I’m sick of feeling so comfortable
Around someone
Around someone that became a part of me
I’m sick of rocking out at the Taproot concert
Where the lead singer jumped off the rail into the crowd
Into the crowd and you shook his hand
Where Troy was talking to me
But all I goddamn wanted
Was you
I’m sick of the fact that you were shorter than I
But I didn’t care one single bit
In fact, I loved you more
I’m sick of the fact that we fought so much
Yet we were so perfect for each other
And we got along so well
I’m sick of asking myself why?
Why? Why did I let myself fall in love so hard?
Why? Why did we fall apart?
Why?!
I’m so sick of crying.
I’m so sick of dying
Each day I’m not with you.
I’m so sick of DYING
WITHOUT YOU.
I’M SO SICK OF DYING WITHOUT YOU.
I’m so goddamn sick without you.
|
|
| this isn't junk mail |
[25 Jun 2005|11:32pm] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
sad |
] |
This short story is called "Just Keep Telling Myself". Just like you said about my hug, I'm going to ask bluntly: "what's the point?". My point is that I've rarely shown my emotions towards you, especially when we were together and I don't want you thinking that I'm this cruel monster of a person (although at this point, I'm beginning to believe I am), I want you to know that I have feelings as well as anyone else. My biggest problem is that I never know exactly how to express them. I wrote this story tonight to express myself for once. There's no point to it- I just want you to know how much I care about you and how goddamn extremely difficult this is for me. That, no Tim, I'm not off with other guys "just like I wanted", instead I'm home in my bed at 3 am, not being able to sleep, miserably regretting all the god-awful things I have put you through. There's no way to turn back time, so I just wish you the best and hopefully you come across a really nice girl that will make all your dreams come true.
The front door of the Boathouse swung open this morning with a loud creak. I looked up and you walked in with your chest kind of puffed out, wearing shorts and flip-flops just like the little blond-haired beach boy that I once fell in love with at the deli years ago. I was ok this morning, even tried to crack a joke. I was ok, as long as I didn't look into your eyes, two blue-green crystalline marbles sparkling the exact same way as the glass marbles I used to play on the sidewalk with when I was a little girl.
I was ok this morning as long as I didn't sit outside with you and smoke our gazillionth cigarette together. I raced down the steps as fast I could to avoid you, and I was ok as long as you didn't catch a glimpse of the water that had welled up in the corners of my eyes; I tried so hard to cover them with the sleeve of my Boathouse work shirt and prayed to the good god that they would NOT slide down my cheeks. I knew that if they did, there was no stopping the army that would follow.
I walked into the restaurant dining room amidst the dulled chatter of people talking and the slow chewing of food. I struggled to crack a smile, yet no matter how hard I tried, it was as if I had never smiled once in my entire life and the corners of my lips stubbornly refused to turn up towards the sky. I was ok as long as I could just get into my car and escape your presence; god, just the sound of your voice completely ripped me apart. I was ok as long as I could blast my music and slowly drown in the pitiful miseries that Bayside and I now unfortunately share.
I kept telling myself I was ok.
Yet, as I sit all alone in our dark old bedroom that holds so many painfully blissful memories, and as our dumb pup clumsily steps onto the remote control button that suddenly makes the stereo blast Weezer's "Only in Dreams," it's like someone just shoved an ice-pick through my heart, and I can't breathe, as if there's thick chain wrapped around my throat cutting off my only supply of oxygen. Weezer's Only in Dreams, the now most-painful-to-listen-to-EVER song plays softly in the background, reminding me of that first night we spent together in your tiny bedroom listening to music on your computer, with Dr. Evil grinning down at us. That night, it really is as if it existed Only in Dreams. Right now I sit ice cold, empty and alone- and you know what- I'm actually not ok. This is beginning to hurt. Good, because I did this to myself and now I suffer.
But, you know what, I guess for right now, I'm just going to keep telling myself that one day the pain will eventually subside and maybe then I'll be ok.
God. Jesus. Christ. Almighty. I hope.
I love you, Timmy, and no matter what happens between us, I always will.
Love,
Monica
|
|
| every little thing she does is magic |
[17 May 2005|08:13pm] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
 contemplative |
] |
i went up to the fire department with amy today. i think im going to start volunteering. i asked her what the scariest thing she ever saw was, and she said a dead 21 year old boy in a car and blood pouring out of his mouth. she said the saddest thing ever was this fifty year old guy who had a heart attack, looked her straight in her eyes and a few minutes later he was dead. put in that position, would i be able to handle that? i guess i want to find that out about myself. i think it'll help me grow into a stronger person. i think it'll help me grow out of the fake world i'm living in and snap back into reality. and of course, i want to do this to help people. i was thinking about joining the police force maybe someday, except theres a huge difference between the police force and the paramedics. the cops deal with the guilty and the fire department deals with the innocent. we'll see how it goes. i want a little danger in my life.
i went out to lunch with amy today, right before we went to the fire station. we went to the new california pizza kitchen. it was so much fun, we laughed so hard at everything.
i hate break ups. they really suck because you end up investing so much of yourself into another person and when its over, you dont want to even be around each other. and when you do, its so much pain put upon yourself. its like choking and struggling to catch your breath.
i feel like turning my life around. i've been doing the same thing for so many years and i just want to get out of it. i want to live life being myself. i love it when you put on a new cd and love it the first time you hear it. i wish you would come up behind and wrap your arms around me. its like im a goldfigh stuck in a bowl with a crack in it and the water's slowly draining. you start off with everything and everythings perfect and suddenly you're left with nothing -- and it hurts! its cruel, like giving a kid a lollipop and then snatching it away. msybe i'm just mad because for the first time in my life the tables have turned and the place setting wasn't made for me but for someone else. i feel like draining my miseries in a foggy green dirty martini. i feel like buying an electric guitar and bashing it against a wall. i feel like i wish this headache (and this heartache) would leave me alone.
my puppy thinks she's a racecar. maybe, someday when i have a daughter, i will name her eve.
|
|
| zombie life |
[16 May 2005|08:13pm] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
confused |
] |
i talk a lot. usually. sometimes i think i talk way too much. but lately i just can't find the words. all i know is that its been a long time since ive felt this way. the worst thing is... its making me miserable. its like my mind is a lamborghini on the autobahn and im pushing the pedal to the metal without any boundaries. its all a blur, sometimes it doesnt seem like reality anymore. i guess the best way to describe it is the dreams you try to hold on to- but you know you're waking up slowly, hazily; the dream is slipping away and suddenly whatever it was that was soooo good actually turned out to be too good to be true. and then BLAOW! snapped back into reality. what am i going to do with myself? i feel like the tables have turned all of a sudden. everything seems perfect from far away. but when you actually get real close, my mouth starts tasting like stale cigarettes. its so amazing how one little thing can trigger a full collapse. i hate not being in control of how i feel. it sucks when you get something good and then lose it. maybe its better not to have anything good at all. its amazing how crazy i feel right now. i feel like a little kid. like a little girl writing in her diary. the silence of the phone is killing me. i'm ready to smash it into a thousand pieces against a brick wall. maybe then i would be at peace. i hope someone gets my message in a bottle. i feel like a zombie. ok back to my zombie life! toodles and oodles of poodles!
|
|
| another monica monday |
[02 May 2005|12:05pm] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
cranky |
] |
i woke up this morning telling tim hes an asshole for having to go to work and telling him his job is monkey work. i kinda feel bad about saying that.
i just got suckered into working tonight. wonderful. im not going to make any money. and there goes my night off. we had a small party on saturday night and someone ended up slashing my neighbors tires. it pisses me off to no end because we invite people to our house and they disrespect us like that. tim and i offered to pay for the tires. because we felt responsible. its unfair. it sucks. thats why i hate having parties now. people just walk in without any respect for us. hayleys jewlery got stolen a few weeks ago. it sucks. who the fuck raises these people? never in my life would i do something so stupid as to destroy someone's personal property. fucking kids. i don't care if i sound old. parties (mine or my roommates) mean *I* have to end up cleaning the house the next day and steam clean the carpet from all the mud that got dragged in. all the fucking beer cans and throw up on the front steps. its disgusting. im done with parties at my house if people can't respect me.
yesterday was my day off. and i washed the day away with sangria and cabernet. it was nice. i'm so done with food service. i'm really starting to hate it. arghh. anyways. im going to take a shower before i have to go back to WORK again.
|
|
| pup |
[30 Mar 2005|09:09pm] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
crushed |
] |
im getting a new puppy this week. to fill the voids in my life. and yeah- theres a lot. but you know what? i do it to myself. i make myself miserable. is a puppy going to help? well, dino did. and ive always wanted a second dog. sometimes, hes the only thing that cheers me up.
maybe i'll name him bam-bam?
|
|
| pet food |
[21 Mar 2005|09:26pm] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
crappy |
] |
i miss the old days. when everone would hang out. sniffle.
|
|
|
[10 Mar 2005|08:57am] |
i took two days off of work (plus sunday, yay!) to work the take home final exam that i thought i was going to get yesterday night. instead, the professor is giving out the exam on monday, which means that i now have three days off without having to worry about any sort of examination. which mean i now have three days off to do whatever i want, whenever. of course, this does mean that i now have no money. which kind of sucks.
i hate my job. i hate the fact that the people who have been there the longest get treated without any type of "seniority". I hate that because i'm polite and my schedule is flexible, the best shifts get handed down to the new guy with the rough attitude and bossy monotone voice. arghhh. it makes me really mad. i've learned that in the real world, you can't be nice. otherwise you get treated like shit. so fuck it, i don't care. if you're going to fire me, you'll just be doing me a huge favor.
fuck you world.
(no not you guys. just the rest.)
|
|
|
[08 Mar 2005|09:43am] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
 awake |
] |
okay so i ended up taking the christmas lights down one day when it was a little warmer.
this past week, i spent well over fifteen hours working on my warsaw uprising term paper. the month of february always passes so fast, and i left it until the last minute. the class has been going really well except for the fact that last week i walked in, and the professor stops the class and says "uh, monica where is your quiz?" (the one we were supposed to email to him, the one that i was preparing to get that night) thirty expectant faces turn in my direction. i glance around. everyone has packets in front of them, with red marks at the top. he had decided to give it out early and i just happened not to recieve the email.
and last night when i went to class, his lectures made me furious. i'm polish. i've lived in poland for almost half of my life. i know a little about its history, hearing stories from my parents, their parents, aunts, uncles, etc. i've visited museums. i know more that a little about its history. my godmother founded the american institute of polish culture. so for me to hear some of the things he was saying last night made my blood boil. i think i went a little crazy last night, because i just wanted to leave my term paper on my desk and walk out. i decided my pride was too much more important than just a stupid college credit. sitting there in my little stupid student desk, i listened to him mix up dates, and took advantage. i called him out. i told him he was wrong, his information was wrong. i couldn't stand it that thirty ignorant minds in that classroom that night were absorbing this. and this is how history rewrites itself. people believe what they hear, handing it down generations and generations. more so, people believe what they want to hear. everyone wants to win, so people will make it look the way they want it to. and whats sad, is that if there is no proof of what actually happened, all of those precious moments will disappear forever.
so i spoke up, angrily. i dont remember exactly what i said but i know it sounded rude. i didnt care. people should know what they are talking about before they think they can teach it to others.
how is it snowing? yesterday it went up to almost 70 degrees! what is going on? can summer come already?
im happy with the way things are going. maybe because ive figured out that once i'm alone i know i'll eventually be ok. that depending on someone else for everything isn't going to get me anywhere. i guess ive reached that point where ive figured out who i am and what i want in another person. ive realized that, yeah, im young and once im married i'll be anchored down and never have a chance to do so many things that life offers. i dont want to be married. not yet.
our house looks amazing. compared to how it used to. we painted the walls a suble forest green in the living room, and a lighter green in the middle room. the kitchens got new floors and countertops. our bathrooms have marble floors. its nice. im so happy.
|
|
| dogs in tuxedos |
[01 Feb 2005|06:25pm] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
 blah |
] |
a few nights ago, we all went midnight sledding in the woods. it got pretty crazy, since tim ended up disappearing and we didnt know where the hell he went. so then mike and eric went to look for him and they disappeared as well. joe, hayley and i got super scared because suddenly it was starting out to be just like a horror story, with people disappearing left and right, one by one. all i kept picturing were axe murderers lurking behind trees, preparing to chop us to pieces. but finally, after minutes that seemed like hours, mike and eric came back down the hill and told us that tim had called them from home. apparently, he got lost and ended up jumping through people's yards, finally ending up across the 6-12 on route 29 and walked along the side of the road until he found our house. so we continued sledding minus tim. there is this one hill where you go really fast but have to brake at the bottom or else you end up in the creek or smashing into a tree trunk. it was fun. in the end, i ended up smashing into the tree full speed with the back of my head. the snow felt good as i just lay there and tried to make out the stars.
so today was productive. i went to work and went to school. i think i might do that again tomorrow, maybe skipping the work part.
ow my head.
|
|
|
[26 Jan 2005|01:48pm] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
 content |
] |
our house still has its christmas lights up. its pretty bad, i know. everyone else on the block has taken them down but us. there are three reasons for this: the four of us are way too lazy, its freaking freezing outside & our porch light is broken ...so the christmas lights stay up.
don't you have feelings where, sometimes, you know you were meant for greater things? i do, all the time. i think about people who say you can achieve anything you want in life as long as you put your mind to it. well, i would put my mind to it, as long as i knew what i was putting my mind to. like, where do you start? how long am i going to have to wait before this "greatness in life" starts kicking in? was i born at the wrong time & place? maybe this is me telling myself to get off my lazy ass and start accomplishing in life. i feel like my goals in life are different than everyone else's. i'm sure most people want to just settle down and raise families. have successful careers, etc etc. for me, that's boring. sure, i want to settle down someday (maybe) and raise a family (maybe) but i want the freedom of exploring life and all it has to offer. traveling the world and just learning. i guess thats what your twenties are for, but i'm already 22 and i feel like i'm running out of time. running out of time for what? i'm not sure. i guess its because all these kids around me are pumping out babies left and right- and i don't want to end up like them.
tonight after i get out of class, i want to cook a romantic clam dinner for tim- oh yeah, food. im hungry. later.
|
|
| old days |
[24 Jan 2005|10:27pm] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
thoughtful |
] |
i miss the old days. when just going to school meant you were on the right track. no bills to pay. no mouths to feed. as long as you were going to school and getting decent grades, it was the only thing that you were supposed to be doing. everyone was proud of you. for not doing drugs, for not drinking and driving, for not having crazy wild sex. well, maybe you were but your parents sure as hell didn't find out. every kid was pretty much a good kid. unless they pulled out a knife or a gun and shot up the school. but anyways. i miss being sixteen with spiky fuschia hair and no one cares because "aww she'll grow out of it eventually." i miss hanging out with the girls after school and dancing in the hot sun on meg's roof. wonder what the neighbors thought? i miss gossiping and keeping secrets and cracking inside jokes on rainy days circled around the wooden table in the dining room. i miss the chinese delivery guy pulling up in a red ferrari to deliver us food. or at least we thought it was a ferrari? i miss the awesome parties charlotte would always throw during the summer. her backyard would always be lit up with candles or tiny white christmas lights or red chili pepper lights. and there would be kids calmly strolling in and out of the house, kids playing guitar and singing, kids making out in the bushes. everyone would come, watch scary movies in the basement, eat brownies, skateboard. i remember falling in love with the drummer in the band and then ice cold kisses in the kitchen six months later. no one cared about money. no one cared about their jobs. you know why? because no one really needed it back then. we were good kids, doing our thing and going to school- just like good kids are supposed to. i really miss the old days, don't you?
|
|
|
[24 Jan 2005|03:02pm] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
cold |
] |
so i had a dream last night. that i was in venice, italy and i was hopping atop rooftops running from cops, trying to hide my plastic yellow bong.
i loved south beach. even though by the end of the week i was all south-beached out.
and now im back to being a bum. AND MARYLAND IS FREEZING bitches.
|
|
| front porch convos |
[28 Dec 2004|09:02pm] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
 crazy |
] |
a week ago, rob and i were sitting on my front porch smoking cigarettes. he was moving away and saying how all he wanted to do was drugs and lots of drugs. i thought it stupid until i blew all my money and felt poor again. for some odd reason, being broke made me feel almost completely content. i know it sounds strange and maybe you think i'm crazy but it makes me feel like i'm free, like i have no care in the world. like i can go round and round in every direction and not care because there is nothing that is holding me down at the moment. it makes me feel like i am a kid. managing the restaurant has robbed me of that. there's just so much responsibility. too much, and time for nothing else. so i'm gonna go to the beach, live it up, and do lots of drugs.
|
|
| bs |
[28 Dec 2004|08:33pm] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
crazy |
] |
dude its like almost already the new year.
bring it on.
|
|
|
[29 Nov 2004|02:34am] |
| [ |
mood |
| |
crappy |
] |
sometimes i think ive got my head on my shoulders, where they should be, like everythings finally going as planned and as ive hoped.
but then other times, i just feel like i want to fall apart completely. like i have no hold upon anything.
i think ive been doing better than i have in years. yet somethings still missing and i cant quite place my finger on it.
|
|
|
[20 Nov 2004|02:12am] |
im scared. why? because i went back there, behind the stupid white restaurant partitions that separate the messy busser area from the dining area, and as i opened my phone and looked at the missed call, i started shaking. she called my phone, probably the first time in years. pressing the tiny cell phone buttons, my hand shook. i was scared. because her call meant more than just a simple little "hi! how are you!!!". no.
it meant something like, "i dont care about anything that happened in the past, writing down your number at cvs wasnt just small talk to pass the awkward time...." it meant... i cared about you, he cares about you, lets get together and talk." or maybe im just incredibly naive and stupid and it just meant," i really liked hanging out in the past, things arent going that great, i have no one else to talk to, lets hang out."
???
what the fuck. im so scared. i care about liz. i cared about her the entire time. i cared about everyone in that family. they were like my very own. but after everythings been going so great, im so scared about going back in time and fucking everything over. again. im scared talking to her and seeing her again will drown out all that ive worked so hard to get away from. i love her to death. i loved hanging out with her. she was like my big sister. i would love getting together with her again and reminisce old times. but what i really fear is her getting drunk and spilling all the things that i really CANT hear right now. not when everythings going so well for me. i want to sit down with her and start off with being like "please dont bring him up when im here with you. its just so fucking hard for me." but ... alcohol... does evil things. it tells you things like " well... he really.. blank blank.. STUFF I DONT WANT TO HEAR stuff i WANT TO but FUCKING CANT AND WOULD. ABSOLUTLEY. FUCKING. KILL. ME. IF. I. HEARD."
so liz what do i do? do i go out and have a few drinks with you and kill myself afterwards? or do i pretend i never got your call and wonder for the rest of my life, " what would it hurt, what would it be like, if i went out one single night and had a few little innocent drinks with you???" how is it fair? it isnt. its a part of my past that i want buried. especially at this point, where im doing so great. when im finally on my feet.
well one thing is certain. i know that i cant trust myself. i cant trust myself. i just cant. not when it comes to these things. that jurt so much. jesus. i make so many mistakes. is this going to be one of them? i dont want to get close to him again. i really dont. its too fucking hard. its so goddamn hard. its so hard to live so close to hinm,
ive got to go.
|
|
| navigation |
| [ |
viewing |
| |
most recent entries |
] |
| [ |
go |
| |
earlier |
] |
|
|
|
|
![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif?v=88.8){kind=small}
meccaangel's journal