So I just found some conversations from senior year of me and my ex boyfriend. I’m a lot different now than I was then. I can see why he liked me, I was fun to talk to back then. We actually had some good conversations. They didn’t even have to have a subject, we had conversations for hours just about random shit. I feel like I’m less interesting now, more dead.
He was also very protective of me, he’d compliment me all the time, just make me happy. It’s weird though, because no matter what he’d do I’d always pull away. I always do. There was no reason to pull away and I did, I pulled away from something good. Something fun. Something not necessary to pull away from. He was the first and only person I’d ever been in a relationship with where the relationship was actually worth something. I let myself and other people ruin it for me, and now I really don’t want any relationships at all. Weird how shit works out sometimes. Sometimes I think about giving the whole boyfriend thing a second chance, but I probably wont. End rant.
i’m still unhappy. the drinking made it go away for the weekend. i didn’t think about it. i didn’t think about losing one of my best friends. it’s sad. i’m upset and hurt and sorry all at the same time. too bad it doesn’t matter.
Today is my birthday. I’m 19 years old today. 19 years is a long time when you think about it.
Birthday weekend was wild, I got to spend it with some of my favorites. That was nice.
Is today a happy birthday? I don’t know. I make a lot of people mad by talking too much. Resolution for the beginning of my 20th year? Stop that. Even though me having a soul is questionable, it’s not my goal to hurt feelings or anything. I want to make this year better than last year, because quite honestly I fucked up a lot during this past one. It was fun, but I’m getting old enough and I’ve been through enough that I should know better. That’s all.
Sometimes I miss the old me. The lame me. The me that never drank or smoked. The me that didn’t get arrested. The me that didn’t swear. The me that loved staying home with the family. The me that was content with doing nothing. The me that didn’t care if others were growing up faster.
I’ve had a great time going out and partying and just being bad in general. I’m glad I got the experience, I know I probably would have regretted never trying it out. Sometimes I feel like I changed too much too fast. I’ll think about a whole plan of what I would do and change if I could, and only realize after I perfected it that I really can’t go back. I feel like I live my life as if it doesn’t mean anything sometimes. But this is the only now I’ll ever have, and I think I should start thinking about my actions. About what the best way to spend my time is.
sippin on some whiskey on my hot mess of a monday night. and then drinking some more. deciding a drunk hickey fight is a good idea… huh. my bad. sorry.
why do i do this shit? i can’t think about the future. everything i do is always fun at the time, but i get boned up the ass in the future. i’ll bitch and complain about it, but i always know it’s my fault. and that i probably won’t change anything. i’m about 1000 in debt, getting a drug test that i may or may not pass in 2 weeks, and screwing up a good friend’s year and a half relationship.
he tells me that i’m addictive. that’s not the first time someone’s said that to me and it freaks me out. addictions are usually a bad thing. and they usually end in shit. but when i think about it, i could say that i’m addicted to him too.
I’m addicted to the thrill, it’s a dangerous love affair