[2005-03-28] - [7:42 p.m.]
[this is a story....]
[Yeah, this is the closest I get to honesty without actually telling the truth. And don’t look at me weirdly; I’m being deadly serious! Okay, I know you can’t be honest if you’re lying but I am protecting identities. Yeah, get me. Where was I before I got all sidetracked? Vikki, you may as well not read this cause it’s the same waffle basically I wrote in the email but slightly less honest and perhaps more confusing.
So I’ll begin. There’s this person (yeah, that’s always a great way to begin), who I am not madly in love with and it’s not the same person as written about before. Or perhaps it is, I’ll leave that to your imagination. Getting back to the point, there’s this person who I’m not madly in love with but (and this is a rather large but!) they make me feel funny, for want of a better word. For example, I saw them on Friday (oh such a long time ago) and they looked dead cute (again, for want of a better word!) and I had this particularly funny feeling in my stomach. Like the feeling you get when going down really fast on a rollercoaster, that kind of feeling. Which is clearly not ‘normal’ if you like, if we’re discussing this particular person. I have no idea whether this feeling constitutes ‘fancying them’ or simply me and my rather weird stomach. Perhaps it was my imagination, imagining my stomach rising up. I was, in all probability, making up all my feelings for them because I’m a sick and twisted little girl. Possibly, I’m sick and twisted either way, which sounds a little rude but entirely possible. So, you see, a rather sordid mess of them and me. There’s also the small matter of their ‘partner’ and a few other things. The few other things being that I haven’t got a clue what the hell is going on, to put it nicely, and it is so totally wrong to ‘fancy’ them. Not meaning to sound all evil and unfair to anyone, but that’s me! Hell, maybe it’s the way I was brought up. To be fair, I have imagined things before. It could be another part of that fiction I like to call reality, or that reality I like to call fiction, depending what mood I’m in. I think what I’m trying to say (in a very round about way) is that this is confusing. Very, very, very, very, very confusing and I’m very tired.
Also, I think this ‘person’ is very bad for my schoolwork. I was sitting in a science exam thinking about them (not in a rude way or anything) and I so totally mucked up my exam. I spent half the time trying to work out what was in my head. I’m just a fourteen-year-old kid; this isn’t fair! It isn’t fair that it happened to me, and it isn’t fair that I’ve got someone to talk to. I know some people dream of someone to talk to but so far talking to people’s only brought tears, anger and heartbreak. It’s brought broken lives and torn apart carefully built lies. Putting aside the fact that it’s all my fault (which it is) it still isn’t fair! None of this should have ever happened; none of it should be real. All I want is for it to go away, be locked it some dark closet where it can’t get out. That’s not running away, that’s just hiding. Make it go away?
A x
]
The Girl: -
Aimz; Fourteen; Crazy; Odd; Sarcastic; Brown Hair; Blue Eyes; Short; Skinny; Accident prone; Clever; Romantic deep down; Paranoid.
Loves: -
Three Days Grace; Simple Plan; Horror Films; Love Films; Any other films; Avril Lavigne; Kelly Clarkson; Green Day; Friends; Mobiles; MSN; The Internet; 'Casualty'; 'Holby City'; Photos.
Hates: -
Most manufactured bands; People who don't try to understand; People who are two-faced; Smoking; Cancer; Getting the blame; Having no money; Rain ruining my eyeliner; Families.