I would like to believe you still care, that you're still there somewhere in the shadows. I would like to believe that you've always been there. But I think, at the bottom of my heart, I know that you're gone, that the monsters hiding in the dark are of my own design, that you aren't waiting for me in there. I would like to be perfect, tried to be perfect for you, but if that wasn't enough to keep you, then I have to accept it isn't enough to keep you waiting.

I always get this knot of anxiety before I go home; I am safer here, your presence is not so overwhelming here. Our spheres still overlap, our friends still remain the same, still share jokes and laughter with both of us. My friends here are entirely my own, you hold no influence on them. I am trying to come to terms with what I hope is the last of my big revelations about our relationship, and I hope it all passes quickly, that I may be able to completely let go, to completely move on.

Le passé

Driving around nearby neighborhoods, we used to point out houses to each other, we used to say, Can we live in that house? That is the house I want to raise our children in. We would laugh about our parenting techniques, how we would raise our kids, what we would name them, what sports we would put them in and what instruments they would play. We used to joke that after the third child, I would become an alcoholic, and the kids would depend on him, but he would vehemently deny that sort of responsibility, that he would leave me if I ever did that. Our naivety, our pure, idealized love was perfect then. We were, quite literally, just kids in love, even then, even in the summer, before either of us (or at least I) could realize what love was, the full potential of what we had.

I never imagined, back then, driving around house hunting with my boyfriend, that I would lose all of it just a few months later. I regret it with all my heart that I didn't appreciate the love we had while we were so deeply involved in it.

I won't cry anymore.

I remember the look on your face, the moment I saw you truly loved me- when I asked What? and you just shrugged your shoulder that wasn't pinned to the bed, because we were laying on our sides on my tiny dorm bed, and then your face broke into a grin and you leaned over and kissed my cheek. My heart aches for that moment back, for every moment. Because I loved you so much, and I still do, for some reason. I still love you, but I am still wrapped around other boys, I still crave their attention and affection and adoration. Because one heartbreak is not enough- I need more, my heart is greedy, it takes everything it can get. I miss my boyfriend. I miss feeling loved. I miss being in love. And that is the worst part. I am afraid to be alone.

what I've given up.

My morals have completely shattered; I have turned into this empty, hollow, shell of an actual human being who has no regard for other's feelings and takes, takes, takes. I don't know what I have gotten myself into, but I depend on it to get me through the next two weeks, until I am back at the nest, back in my mother's arms and with my best friends and people who actually care about my existence and don't just want to get in my pants.

I allow all of this to happen. I could have been firm, I could have said no, but I have no objection to pain and heartbreak anymore and crave the attention and affection of any male that comes across my path. I am destroying relationships across the globe, and I show no remorse. This is the life I have come to, these are the choices I have made. My path has been determined. I am useless, I am a cynical, murderous bitch. You are no longer here to keep me anchored, and my calm, serene sunshine has turned into a dangerous hurricane. I pray that this hurricane reaches you, that the evidence and gossip makes you stop and feel the slightest amount of sadness for the pain you've caused me. You have created a monster.

It's surprising how much I've relied on music the past few weeks. Right now, music is the most comforting thing, to know that I'm not alone in my feelings, that someone else in the world has felt the same way I do.

Something in me has snapped. For now, at least, I am no longer yearning to be back in your arms. Rather, I would like to lash out at you for everything you've done to me, everything you've put me through. It takes almost all my strength to remain composed and amiable while I talk to you. I promise you empty words, Of course I'd still like to be friends, but in reality I do not want anything to do with you from here on. You can't have everything you want, and up until now I have been providing and enabling all of that for you. But at the bottom of everything, you broke my heart, and that isn't something you "cool off" from.

This is from another time, another life. When we were in love and happy and only experienced occasional speed bumps in my mental sanity as compared to now. When he would allow himself to be dragged along for the ride simply because he wanted to be with me. When we had friends and songs and our children all planned out.

None of this is the case anymore.

What I thought were moderate anxiety attacks then are now considered a walk in the park. When I couldn't breathe and felt claustropobic by being inside a house last summer, I now don't eat for days at a time, get nauseous sporatically, and don't sleep. My trigger thoughts and phrases from the summer are laughable "monsters under the bed", compared to my current trigger thoughts.

tient à coeur

Anxiety swells up in a knot right in my stomach every time I think about coming home, being near you again. And I know you won't reach out to me, you don't care, you won't give me the time of day and you won't try to make this right. You will always make me come to you, you will give me all the time I need or want, you will never be the first to open up. I am terrified to the point of paralysis of seeing out in the street, maybe pumping gas or pulling out of McDonald's with your cousin. And I know this is one of the few chances I'll have, the slim time frame in between when you deem morally acceptable to dump your girlfriend and then move onto the next one.

Tomorrow night I will enter the heart of a warzone, fifteen minutes away from the enemy. Shaking to the core, my knuckles white on the steering wheel, eyes peeled for any sign of you. Every Nissan is a target, every stickered bumper is a red flag. Having to carry around this heavy, broken heart is tiresome, and the only person who can fix it is you. And somehow, I'm afraid that it will lead me straight to you.

I ended up tricking myself into believing I could do any of this without you; into believing that I could move on. I'm completely lost, I have absolutely no idea of anything I want anymore. I need other people to remind me to eat, to give me my pill, to take me to class, to move me out of the way of people and pavement and moving cars.

Going home makes me afraid, but nevertheless, I have to do it. I have to go and retreat into my house with my family and my cat and the love that I had before you. To remind myself that it's still there, it will always be there.

The Way You Make Me Feel

I sit at my computer and sob and listen to horrifyingly sad music that reminds me of you and I can't even face the blank document where I imagine a letter to you should be. But you don't care, you walked out, you're gone.

One day, I knew all these words would come back to haunt me.

we swore we'd never end up here.

I hate that you make me feel like this, I hate that you hurt me so much and you don't even realize it. You're pushing me away into the arms of someone you absolutely hate, and you aren't even aware that you're doing it. I miss my Ryan, I miss my boyfriend, I miss the boy that was head over heels for me and spent every day with me and got coffee with me. This Ryan, this person that acts cold to anyone he doesn't personally know and hurts my feelings and embarrasses me and calls that normal; this isn't who I'm in love with. What you call a successful day is snapping at me and acting like you don't want to be there. If you don't want me anymore, I'd just love a memo and I'll leave you alone.

It's sad that I've always told myself that you'd never hurt me; I'd finally convinced myself of it, and you end up hurting me worse than Kyle, who broke my heart.

the highest skies

Even when you do respond to me and even when you decide to call, I still feel alone. As if you had somewhere better to be, things to do other than answer your nagging girlfriend's calls. And I can picture you, reading my texts, laughing along with your friends as you drive around the silent streets of Suburbia, smoking cigarettes and screaming words to songs you all know. Things we all used to do together, you now do with other people. You've moved on from me, and I am drowning in your absence. I sit around and wait for you, hoping to get a text or a phone call. But days pass; nothing.

So this is what loving someone is like.

It feels like you're gone. As if you've quietly excused yourself from my life, you slipped out the door while another of my friends was telling a wild story that had everyone enthralled. And I sat in this lonely dining room, sat and waited long after everyone else had left, days and days and days until maybe you'd come back, you'd throw your jacket that She-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named bought you onto the couch. You'd throw it on the couch, leave the living room and turn the corner to the dining room. You'd see me sitting among everyone's left overs, from days, maybe weeks ago, among dirty dishes and the smell of stale perfume and candles that have turned into burning puddles of wax. You'd see my running eyeliner, my messy, unkempt hair, the ladybug that accompanied me for the past few days in your absence. You'd take me into your arms, and I'd cry, sob, scream, despite having gotten all of that out days ago. You'd rock me back and forth, you'd rub circles into my back with just the tip of your thumb (like you always do), you'd refuse to let go. I wouldn't ask where you've been, you wouldn't ask about my friends or why I haven't moved. Because we both know, we've been to the darkest places these past few days, weeks, months. But none of that requires any discussion, because you came back, and I waited.

After what seems like lifetimes, we'd separate, and tend to the leftover food and dirty dishes that have, between the time that you arrived and now, accumulated grotesque levels of mold.

I smell you on the sheets. I smell your body lying next to me in the night, while I push and push and push you into the wall in my sleep, unconciously reclaiming what's mine. I smell you hovering over me, as you kiss and kiss and kiss my neck, my collarbone, my chin, and finally land back where you're supposed to be. And your hips, they grind and grind and grind into mine and I want want want you, all of you, all the time. I've never felt this hungry and I'm surprised at how accurately I locate the button, the zipper, and you pull pull pull until everythings gone, until its us and we intertwine and I realize that you are the missing part of me. It is this realization that makes me beg you to stay, that makes me cry and cry and cry until I lull myself to sleep. Because you're gone and you won't stay, just for me, just for another hour, please? I watch my missing piece get in the car and drive drive drive away. I come back upstairs, climb into bed, and I smell you on the sheets.

The End

I need something to keep you tied to me. I need something to make sure you won't wander away from me. I want to make you happy, and I want it to be right. And I keep trying and trying but something in me screams No, this is wrong, he is going to hurt you. They all do.

Saying goodbye is hard enough.

Maybe I'm falling for you

I got drunk for the first time and you had to carry me around the house because I couldn't walk. I can't remember anything but apparantly I tried to get in your pants. You got drunk the next day and threw up everywhere, and as I was taking care of you, you told me you loved me.

We both say and do things we don't mean.

Some days, I can't wait to get away from everything and go to college. To start over, to have four classes a semester and a new life and new friends. And then I look back at the amazing summer I've had so far, look back at you and our friends and our lives together, intertwined. And this is what I've wanted all along, so why am I not happy?

We kissed inside of your trunk, our hands fumbling in the dark, our legs entwined together. I am reminded of your dogs cuddling with me because they are afraid of the thunder, of Cody holding me back from running outside to greet the gardener, of my crazy neurotic brain and being too much for you to handle. But it seems, for the moment, that you can handle me just fine.

Post work, on just a few hours of sleep. We're driving in my car with Cody and Mason in the back and listening to the AVPM soundtrack and Party in the USA and getting Dunkins at 12:30 in the morning. We're wrestling in Jess's front yard and she tries to pull me away and holds my wrist for all of five seconds and I stop breathing and you kiss the shock away. We're on the couch in the basement and Jess is drinking alcohol and you rub my leg and laugh at something to do with razors and I don't want you touching me anymore. I drive to Boston just for something to do and you worry because you think I'm going to get kidnapped. It's 1 AM and I just can't say no to you. You take away all my vices and the only one I have left is you.

He was going to do something tonight. I thought he and Jess were talking about drugs so I finally got his phone from him and then I still thought they were talking about drugs. And then I read one of his texts to her saying something about pressure and then it clicked. I'm such a dumbass.

Former Self

The clock on my dashboard is 10: 31 PM and I'm pulling into my parking spot, and grabbing my shoes that got drenched when I stepped in a puddle climbing into Katie's car. The wet pavement and the scattered debris of nature remind me of walking with you around your cousin's street, while my heart beats too fast and my body feels too warm and I feel claustrophobic in your huge room, away from everyone else. I still hear all our laughter ringing in our ears, see all of our friends crammed into Katie's tiny car as we make prank calls, feel the cold and then the warmth and then the pain. This is the earliest I've been home in recent memory, the longest I haven't seen you. But then I turn on my phone and I get a text message from you, sent at 10:05 PM, simply saying, "Wish you were here."

This is what having the world at your feet feels like.

one in the same

I feel like a lifetime has already passed, when in fact we haven't even reached graduation day yet. We have three more months of this. We have three more months of spending every day together, of having fires and camp outs and pool parties and spontaneous trips to Hampton at 11 PM. Of spending my entire paycheck on Dunkins and listening to bad music and singing along to it. Of not sleeping and jumping on top of tents and walking in circles until 2 in the morning. Of creeping on your neighbor's prom pictures and falling asleep with my head on your chest and giving you a heart attack by going 100 mph and weaving through traffic on 93. Of waking up with your favorite song (which I havent heard in a week) playing in my head, just to tell you about it and you say that you were listening to it last night. Of watching people you don't know graduate and walking back to the car in the middle of the hardest part of the storm and getting beyond drenched.

And as I write that last sentence you text me out of the blue with, "My pants are still wet."

Brand New

Every one of my 16 mosquito bites (17, since you count my tattoo every time) reminds me of you- of trampolines, of obnoxious boys who make admirable attempts to get along with me, of gas station food, of never being able to keep my shoes (sandals) on for longer than five minutes. And every single day this week has been nothing less than amazing, despite the whisperings, despite the comments that turn the moment from natural and comfortable to awkward and weird. I could spend every moment with you: getting lost on the way to Newburyport; ice cream at 9 PM; falling asleep on your bed. I'm so excited that I have all of this to look forward to, for the rest of the summer.

Defiant

Just looking at the back of your head as you watch for oncoming cars gives me butterflies. I could spend the rest of my summer doing this with you.

You open the door for me and we turn around the corner and there he is- giving me that look of a friend from long ago. But you don't know him, you don't know about ice skating and kissing and broken contact lenses and dropping out of school. He is buying a bouquet saying "It's a Boy!" and he is telling me about his job at the bank, and I realize exactly how far away my worlds used to be, before that world- the world with him- fell away and you replaced it instead. And just moments before we were joking about keying his car, and now he and I are discussing banks and I keep glancing at the bouquet like it might explain to me who it's going to, and why. Those two worlds eclipsed for a brief moment, and turning to you, I leave the brush with the past behind.

I wish that everything would slow down. May is flying by and my Senior Prom is on Thursday. To be honest, I am terrified of what comes after this.

Again & Again

Through all the twists and turns, you turned to me and said, "Where are you taking me? This is crazy." Smiling, I led you down another staircase, towards the elevator. You were putting your blind trust in me, your senses were completely thrown off with every new room, hallway, staircase, and elevator we entered. You paused to look out a window facing the courtyard, and I whispered, "Isn't it pretty?" Because you would never admit it, but you were impressed by the sheer size of the place, by the myriad of floors accompanying it, and my ability to navigate through it. Yes, maybe there is a less complicated way of reaching our destination, but when have I ever taken the easy way to anything? And, once a reliable route is found, why would the most-easily-lost girl in Boston ever think to stray from that route? "I'm glad that I'm not driving," you sighed, laughing at the volume and insanity of the drivers around us. And that is just the way that I want it to stay: with me always in control, always in the driver's seat, and you forever the watchman, looking for openings in the traffic and looking to me for leadership.

Pinups

We were having a private conversation, until you decided to eavesdrop and then loudly offer suggestions that were completely inappropriate. You are completely inappropriate. And it was one of those times when you can't think of any witty, sly, or biting remark to come back with until you're driving home and fuming about the situation while the world outside cries with sympathy. And it was just that: You are completely inappropriate, because I know that would have gotten to you, because I still know you, because you haven't changed in the three years since we've last talked. And I can tell, just in the way others talk about you, just in the way you delivered that last, grotesque comment. You haven't changed a bit.

Sometimes, I kick myself for ever having such a romanticized view of you that I let it blind me. No matter how many times you attempt to get to me, either to crack a smile, or to make me explode, I will never be ready to talk to you.

torus

The strings of my life are coming undone, the glue that holds me together is drying up and losing its hold. I want things to be okay, I really do- but everything is catching up with all of us, and we are losing control of the situation and handling them in ways we should not. Stress is affecting everyone, and I hate that you don't try. There aren't many things that are stable anymore, and I wish you were one of those things.

Le Tour d'Eiffel

You brought with you offerings of Parisian life: a special painting of the Eiffel Tower, and an array of burned CDs filled with French music. I appreciated the thought, and fell in love with your thoughtfulness and effort that went into the painting. But on this occasion, when I pulled off my sweatshirt revealing a lovely blue, flowered tank top, your utterance of, "That is such a weird shirt" brought me spiralling back down towards earth, reminding me that some things just never change.

No, it's totally cool: don't even bother telling me your plans when I ask about them, don't bother giving me any other information other than "I want the money you owe me" and feel free to just throw all of the blame for your ruined plans on me. Forget everything I said to you 10 minutes ago, because I told you exactly where I was going and obviously it's my fault if you don't remember. You are a hypocritical, shallow, fake, douchebag. Don't even come up to me and casually ask me where I was, then get on the phone and say, "Nevermind, I found her." I wasn't lost, you dumb fucking prick. I am absolutely done conforming to your schedule, and I don't care about what you want. I already have plans, and if that is a problem for you, complain to someone else. I am done listening to anything that you have to say. You are a stupid, selfish, spineless, douchebag and you aren't worth the shit on my shoes.

While having a long conversation about boys last night, my friends seem to believe that there isn't a chance for them if a boy likes me. Even though I don't return those feelings, hahaha. Also, although I really wanted to, I couldn't bring myself to talk to them about how I feel about a boy or two. The only person I've ever felt comfortable sharing that type of thing with is Erica, and that is most likely because she doesn't either know or see these boys everyday. Also, one or two of my friends have had feelings towards Kyle, to which I really want to scream, "He's the farthest thing from a great guy! He toyed with my emotions and then essentially broke my heart and put me in a depression for months! You deserve so much more than that!" But again, I can't bring myself to speak up. They know him, they have classes with him, they make jokes with him in the hallway. And I feel like there's nothing I can do but watch.

I can't talk about my feelings, I suppose, because that would make them real. I would rather discuss and analyze someone else's problems than deal with my own.

Dear Boys,
Thank you for your flattering attention, but really. All I want is a fucking prom date. And one of you wants to date me, and the other one... I never know what you're thinking. And it drives me crazy. And I have a lot of things to say to both of you that I am too afraid to admit but for now, please know that I simply don't date anyone and this is very hard for me. Also, I will never love either of you as much as I love my cat.
Sincerely, Kara.

Two AM

Yesterday, Devon and I had a really deep conversation about time, hahah. We just can't believe how fast the months go by, while still feeling that the weeks drag on. We were sitting on the rocks at the beach, hiding our skin from the cold wind, and wishing that we were there instead on a warm summer day, wearing bathing suits instead of winter coats. Just thinking about cap ou pas cap?, all our beach days, camping, tagging Ryan's car- it all feels like it happened yesterday, when in reality it's been six months. I want it all back, the warmth, the sun, the loud music and all of the laughter. I want us all to be singing along to our favorite songs with the windows down, our sunglasses on, chocolate milkshakes and sodas, on our way to the beach. Summers in the past have all been when I was happiest, when I was free and in the sun and I was constantly moving, constantly travelling. I know it sounds hypocritical because I always complain about going anywhere, but I always want to be on the move, and being stuck here in the winter really sucks.

I really need to stop complaining about this, but I have had such a terrible case of S.A.D. the past few weeks, it's unbelievable.

I remember dancing across this floor many times last summer. I remember the scent of the flower garden reaching all parts of the property, steeping into my clothes in the drawer and my pillowcase, so that my hair smelled like flowers when I woke up. I remember running across 8 acres of land, and climbing trees and lying beside butterfly bushes and playing soccer in the corn field. I remember smiles and alcohol and loud, cheery voices and the lack of television or video games. I remember the frightening quiet after everyone had left, and it was just us. Alone on eight acres and two big houses and no noise. I remember bare feet, shorts, tank tops, bathing suits, and heat. I remember stepping on a bee hidden in the grass, I remember getting the worst sunburn of my life, I remember walking through Rodman's Hollow without any flashlights, expecting to encounter the devil at any moment. I remember acoustic guitars and crossword puzzles and startled deer.

But most importantly, I remember the feeling of absolute peace everyone shared, content to listen to the music playing or shoot the breeze with their housemates or play football out in the yard. I remember, one summer, I was freer than I've ever felt.

Stream of consciousness

A boy asked me out for Valentine's Day yesterday. I thought he was joking. Boys make me so rediculously uncomfortable, I don't even know. I don't know what I feel about anyone anymore. I feel so confused and upset about every little thing and I know I should be taking my pills but I just can't bring myself to. I really hate medication and the idea of it makes me really sad. I have to rely on a little white pill to make me normal. Sometimes I miss Kyle and that makes me feel even worse. Sometimes I want to talk to my mother but then I remember that she's a raging psychopath and I don't want anyone's pity. So everything stays locked up, and tense. I just really don't like how I feel right now.

The slightest things set me off and cause me to be in a bad mood for the rest of the day. I'm antsy for break, I want to have a week that is all mine and spend it however I want, filled with adventures to new places and long car rides and loud music. I want to have as close to a substitute of summer as I possibly can.

I can't wait for my birthday. I can't wait to have my tattoo, and I don't really care if no one supports my decision. I can't wait to party in Boston with my best friends and feel truly alive for the first time in a long while.

Arch

I dropped the biggest hint about prom to Ryan yesterday and I didn't even mean to. haha I was just being my normal, panicky self when Ciara started talking about prom and I was like, "Let's not talk about it." And Ryan suddenly perked up and was like, "Why?" So Devon and I took turns explaining that it's unnecessary for people to be talking about prom so early in the season, and that I especially didn't want to talk about it because I have to find a boy date and not just Devon, because my mom wants me to. Vikki backed me up even further, saying that her mom said she wouldn't pay for her dress if she didn't go with a boy. I don't think many people believe my story because my mom doesn't seem like that, but Vikki backing it up helped. My mom has been trying to set me up with senior prom dates since the summer before freshman year, it is that big of a deal to her.

Hopefully, the message gets across that yes, he should ask me. I don't want to take advantage of him like that because I don't have any feelings for him but he's my closest straight, single, male friend and I don't have very many options, okay? I hate prom so much.

Progress

I would like to mention that after I was fascinated with his phone for about three minutes, Larry laughed and patted me on the head and said that I was cute.

Kyle was in the room. *super win*

Chasing Lights

I saw him for the first in a long time today. It was just in passing, but I still had so stop, close my eyes, and take a deep breath. I kept walking. He's changed so much.

Some days I get sad and tired and I just want a boy to tell me that I mean something to him.

For a short while

The more everyone is beginning to talk about prom, the more nervous I get. I feel pressured to have an actual date (who is male and not my bffs) but, as it happens, I tend to push away all male attention and therefore come up short for a date. Not that I should even be worrying about it now, but Mel is planning it out like it's her wedding day, and I just was never aware that prom was supposed to be like that at all.

Home Alone

There is a certain halfway point between freedom and parental control that comes with being seventeen. I know it, my friends know it, and my mother knows it. "Be sure to clean up the kitchen," she says, taking her bags into her arms. I nod, not registering anything. "And do the laundry. I'll be back tomorrow." She gives me several hugs and kisses, before she's out the door, and I am locking it behind her. I glance around at the messy kitchen, and start to get ready to go out with my friends.

What she doesn't know won't hurt her.

shopping addiction

I think it's really funny that as soon as Devon suggests that we stop shopping so much, we go out shopping even more. Yesterday we went to Whole Foods, and then today we went to Target. I am going back to buy a pair of heels that I fell absolutely in love with. I am so rediculous.