No hard feelings...bullshit.

I think one of the hardest feelings ever is knowing you have no one to talk to. It's hard when the people you knew almost as well as yourself are physically or emotionally gone, and going to anyone else to discuss something feels funny. It's like they knew me even better than I know me, and they were always there to help out because they'd tell me how I actually felt.
I'm not really good with things like that. Sometimes I lie to myself to make myself feel better, but I always realize the lie in the end, which isn't cool. Then, not only do I feel guilty for lying to myself, but I feel dumb for doing so. It's like "I should've told the truth to myself and accepted things at face value at first, even though I know I couldn't have, or wouldn't have anyway."

The mind is a terrible thing to waste, but sometimes it's a terrible thing to use.

Lives

"Other peoples' lives seem more interesting 'cause they ain't mine."
- from "Lives" by Modest Mouse

True that. Over time I've heard a lot of people complain that they're "always bored", they "have no life" or "think other people's lives are a lot more interesting". But, are they really?
Each of us has our own view of life. We make our distinctions based on how much we enjoy what we're doing. But so many of us hold the common beliefs that other people have better lives, or it would be more interesting if we had a different life. I guess it all ties back to that "grass is greener on the other side" motto.

But what is the truth? Is the grass really greener on the other side? How can you tell? Is it worth the risk to go to the other side? And lastly, does the color of the grass really affect your life?

Think about it.

dark

on one summer night, in the dark
i said i didn't like you 'that way'
and in your eyes, shining stars
were painted one by one
with delicate paintbrushes
by her, the artist.
you told me; with quivering breaths that
it was okay if we could
"just be friends"
just like i wanted, right?
"yes, i said,
that's exactly what i wanted"
forcing myself to stay calm
not because i was,
but because that was the 'right thing to do'
or was it?
and you walked away, hands in pockets
deep in thought as each star went out
one by one and the light in your eyes was replaced
by raindrops and cloudy skies,
and later i realize,
i held the paintbrush.

himhimhim.

some days i wake up and can't believe i'm doing things this way, but i am.
i like a boy.
he is nice, occasionally funny, and just a sweet person in general. i'm glad i met him; i really am. i'm not glad that i seem unable to let go of the past however, and that sometimes even his name brings back the memories i swore to myself i would one day forget. i dislike how i can't get in to a relationship with him because i'm too scared of the consequences, good or bad. i'm terrified of relationships currently. i don't want to get near them because i'm afraid i'll get hurt again, or things will go wrong, etc. it's funny how i thought for so long that i needed a new boyfriend, someone to complete me, when really all i needed to work on was trying to complete myself. it's going to take a lot of work-- can i do it? sometimes i hate the way certain things make me feel, as if i'm helpless and unable to change anything about the one way track my life is (or seems to be) on.
i really like this boy though, and i hope things will work out for the better.
i need a good thing in my life right now, i really do.

ps-- about the 'triple' title, i believe something seems to mean more, have more emphasis or seem more important when you say it three times. try it for yourself.

untitled

life is a one way train to nowhere, seriously. if you want to get technical about it, it's like a videotape that doesn't have a rewind button.

think about it. the train keeps on rolling and rolling on it's neverending track. if stuff falls off, it doesn't stop, it doesn't stop.

that's the problem with things like life.
they don't have pause buttons.
or rewind ones.
or stop/eject ones.

damn it all to hell.

My thirtieth post, oh my god.

Okay who cares.
Now that I've gotten that out, onwards with things.
My blog is a whiny bunch of shit. I just read some random guy's blog, and it was really funny, and I was like hey, why the shit don't I do something interesting? That was a terrible run on sentence.
Anyway, the next few weeks are always the worst weeks of the year.
Why?
BACK TO SCHOOL!
Good old me, still being 15 years old and beginning Grade 11, I still have 2 years of joyous school left. God damn my parents for not screwing in 1986.
School is okay-- the course work isn't that hard, and if I'm lucky I can pass everything without trying very much and get honors. Unfortunately, my school is full of preppy Diesel/FCUK bitches, my best friend is moving away and I'm going to end up alone eating my lunch in empty hallways like last year.
Joy.
Anyway, now that I'm done my short rant, I better get off to clean my room because it's a huge fucking mess (I'll probably end up sleeping).
Farewell to whoever is reading this.
Most likely no one.

friends.

so today, i was reading something my friend (whose name I'll leave out) wrote in her blog, about her dad. he died last year, and she's only 16 now. she wrote so many things about him, and it was so heartfelt, i almost cried. i can't imagine what it would be like to go through something like that. it would have to be so terrible. i would be so torn up if i lost any of my family members.
sometimes i think the world is really cruel. why do things like this have to happen to such nice people? i think this is why i don't believe in god, or stuff like that. because he hasn't proven himself to me. some days, i just tend to be so mad at the world--especially when horrible things like that happen to friends of mine.

new me.

it feels like i did the right thing.
he asked me out, and i said no. i had to. it was the only thing, and i had to be fair to myself, and to him. and i honestly feel like it was the right thing to do.
i will not have another brandon scenario. i will not screw myself over again. no no no.
i need to get my priorities sorted before i let another person into my life. i cannot just go around dating whoever i want because i'm desperate and feel like i need some love. i need to learn how to love myself first, or i'm never going to make it in the real world.

i am sick. sick sick sick.

It's true, I'm sick of so many things.
01. I'm sick of annoying customers at work. I'm sick of them telling me what to do, and thinking they're smart, and can get by the rules. I'm sick of them being rude.
02. I'm sick of spending my money on impulse purchases. I need to learn how to save, but everytime I want to get around to making a savings account, it never happens. I need to quit procrastinating.
03. I'm sick of my inability to have one night stands, except when I'm drunk. I'm sick of how emotionally involved I get.
04. I'm sick of eating too much and not being able to stop, or not having the power to. Even, not having the motivation to.
05. I'm sick of assholes playing shitty songs on the radio. I'm sick of turning to every station and not finding something to listen to. I'm sick of the fact we have no CD player in our car.
06. I'm sick of the shitty bus service to South Edmonton Common because Edmonton Transit and Ralph Klein are retarded.
07. I'm sick of the fact that Trent is moving away.
08. I'm sick of people's ageist bullshit.
09. I'm sick of being bored and having it seem like there's shit all to do, anytime.
10. "I'm sick and tired of being sick and tired."

"Perfect Imperfections"

I won't wait after the guy who chases after me. Who ditches his friends to hang out with me. Who tells me I look beautiful with smeary makeup and sweatpants (because I don't). I won't wait for the guy who will sit under the stars with me for hours, or who will carry my bags when I'm shopping. Nor the guy who tells me how lucky he is to have me 24/7. I'm not planning to wait for the guy who calls me back after I hang up on him (because face it, if I hung up, I don't want to talk, retard). I refuse to be sad waiting for the perfect guy to pop into my life.

Because let's face it, he doesn't exist. No one is perfect and I think people should realize that. Face it, you can't have everything you want in a person. The guy you're waiting for is not going to come. I refuse to wait for the "perfect guy", because think how many great people I could miss out on while I'm busy preoccupying myself with perfectionistic attitudes.I'm not being desperate, just realistic. Didn't someone once say that "Love isn't about someone being perfect, it's about making the imperfect person perfect." It's true. Just a thought.

And another note, I wrote this by myself. Unlike the 600 girls on nexopia who copied it off each other's pages to use on their own. Please ask for permission if you'd like to use this.

©R.H.'05

"You're Such A Sucker For A Sweet Talker"

I believe that this is true for everyone, except people who have already been suckered by sweet talkers.

Personally, I think human nature makes people suckers for sweet talkers. Think about it-- a nice girl or boy comes up to you and compliments you all the time, or says generally sweet things. Because they show so much interest in you, you might be inclined to like them, have a crush on them, etc. Depending on what happens, things might go further. Originally, although some people might beg to differ, you weren't suckered in by their good looks, or nice personality, etc. Although they may have been contributing factors, the ultimate reason was that they sweet talked you and made you feel good about yourself when it felt like no one felt that way.

You had low self esteem, or maybe even moderate and they rescued you from it, because it finally felt like someone cared.
But did they really?
Because after all, "you're such a sucker for a sweet talker."

Love can make you blind.

hollow.

Right now, I'm not sure which is worse-- feeling lonely, or hollow. Devoid, empty. That's how it was last night. Either way, I think both are feelings you get when you realize that the person you have a crush on doesn't like you back. It seems to happen to me everytime. I hate that feeling. In a society like the one we have right now, looks almost get you everything. Everything. If you're pretty, I think it's what attracts the opposite sex to you in the first place, at least for the most part. Then they realize whether you have a good personality or not, etc.
But what if you're not pretty?
What then?
And what if you're shy also? I'm not sure how you're supposed to attract someone to yourself if you're quiet and only have exceptional (or average) looks. Pretty people get all the luck, and I'm too bitter. The End.

gone.

sometimes things can be really difficult.
like telling your best friend you have a massive crush on him. little does he know that you think about him all the time, and have since the first time you guys talked at school, in a class you both hated. it's hard to tell him that not only do you like him, but you have for a long time, and have kept it a secret because you couldn't bear to say it. when "do you like someone" was answered with a "no" which was really code for "you".

he doesn't know that everytime you pretended to be elated that he was getting a girlfriend, you'd secretly go home and cry about it. you'd act happy for them, but really you wanted her place in his heart, even though you already had your own. sometimes you'd just cry because you knew that the both of you would never be more than friends.

everytime you opened your mouth to tell him, something else would always come up and you'd shut it again. there was always a reason not to say something. no one wants to lose a friend, or be scared to lose a friend, especially their best one. maybe he isn't meant to know, except when he moves away in a month. your heart hurts just thinking about it. an hour and a half away, and you haven't even told him. and you're too scared to say anything before he leaves. for all you know, something could have happened, but you didn't say anything and now he's gone.

gone gone gone.

You.

I remember times with you. Out in the country but still close to the city pavement and streetlights. Close to a major highway. With cars rushing by, we made the turnoff down the gravel road towards your house, or mansion as I liked to call it, considering it was about 3-6 times as big as my house. I anticipated seeing you again, it was just shortly after camp. We were going to a family barbecue of yours, and I was really nervous. I didn't necessarily know how to act. You drove us there, and at the time, being only about 13 I was scared of what would happen (did you have your licence?!). Anyways, we drove the escalade there, and hung out with some of your family, who were really nice to me. Some of them even joked about us going out, and at the time both of us were too silly to realize that that's what the other one wanted. I think the image that'll be stuck in my mind for a long time is the scene that came next. We were driving your expensive escalade down the gravel road as I watched the speedometer crawl from 40 to 60 to 80. We were flying by then. As corny as it sounds, I think it felt like my heart was flying too. We went back to your house, and I saw all the expensive cars you had. Holy crap, you had a lot of money. It didn't bother me though, because you never acted all high and mighty because of it. I can't remember what else we did, but my mom came and picked me up later. By then, I think I was sure that I liked you. A while later, I told Davis about this. He told me I should tell you, but I couldn't, I was too shy. So he told you for me, in an email. And it turns out you liked me back. And that was the longest relationship I've ever had, to this day. I miss you sometimes. Okay, a lot of the time....Okay, I wish I could go back and reverse our breakup and not have gone out with Brandon, but unfortunately that's not possible. You were a great person. And the few minor flaws now seem like nothing to me, but I remember that back then they seemed bigger. Big enough for me to be a little bit mad. Then you broke up with me on your birthday, and it was over. 3 months, 1 day. Over. I'd lie and say I could remember that day as clear as glass, but I can't. I just remember moderately when it ended. I guess what I'm trying to say is not that I regret what I've done, or that we both made bad choices, but simply that I miss you. And hey, some days I probably miss you as more than a friend. But unfortunately that's sort of irrelevant now. The more things change, the more they stay the same....

14 months.

So occasionally, I wish I could go back to those simpler days, of grade 9, of analyzing songs in Language Arts class and listening to Wishlist by Pearl Jam and Comfort Eagle by Cake, and learning to love them over time. Back to MKIH, and writing it all over our stuff. "Do you know what MKIH means?” No, sorry, no idea. And desperately trying to conceal it, because we really knew what it meant. And so did he, but we didn’t know that yet. I’d go back to the day, to fourth period English class and “Rachel, they need you at the office”. And knowing what it meant, and how I didn’t want to go, but went anyway, leaving my pink English binder on my desk and hearing them wish me good luck, their voices grim. They knew I would need it. She took me into her office first, explained what they knew. Said someone had told them, she couldn’t tell me who it was. Said how I was ruining things, I could get out if I wanted to, how I had potential. And all the while, I am thinking about my parents in the next room, about how my leg won’t stop shaking, and if she doesn’t quit saying nice things then I might just start to cry. About how she tells me it’s time to tell them, and I get up out of the chair as I watch other kids walk by out the window, desperately wishing I could get out of here, that I was one of them. But she gives me a hug, and I remain stiff and solid, nailed to the ground, waiting for the inevitable. She opens the door and my parents are there, my mom looks like she might cry, and my dad looks quite indifferent, like always. She explains to them about what is going on and what I have been doing, the real thing. The weed, Brandon, the whole deal. Brandon’s history, which they are surprised to hear. I’m appalled at the fact that they didn’t know. I came home, my clothes smelling of pot many times in a month, and neither of them noticed or said anything, despite the fact that my mother could “Smell that stuff a mile away”. Yeah fucking right, I think. “Are you going to break up with him, because you should.” Yeah, I was planning on doing it tonight anyway. “Okay, good.” We get home. I walk after them. After Megan has gotten in trouble for interrupting my session with Ms. Bhatti, to tell me she put my things in my locker. After the meeting, I walk slowly to the locker and line things up from left to right, tallest to smallest. I pick up everything I need, and walk out, dreading what will happen when I get home. I walk in the door and sit, and they talk to me for a bit, or mom does, I can’t remember about what. “Did you do it to see what it was like?” Spat, the words like razors across her tongue, and my heart. The guilt is starting to build, but little do I know, this is only the beginning. No, shot back in the same tone. I am informed that I will be calling him after supper. Hey, it’s me, can you come over? How about you come over here, no one’s home. No, I need you to come here, I need to talk to you about something. Okay; I’ll be over in a bit. The next couple minutes are hell. He walks up to the door and we go to my room. We sit on my bed, and he holds my hand. And I tell him what is happening, how there can be no more us, and why. And throwing the blame partially on my parents, because I can’t handle it myself yet. He cries. And cries and cries and cries. Baby, I’ll kill myself, you’re the only girl I’ll ever love. Between choked sobs, like I should fall for it. And I do, I fall for every word. Then, I didn’t know he was going to date Rachelle, I was going to date Jason. That him and Krysta were going to go out and have sex a month later, and how they are still going out today. I apologize every couple minutes. He tries to leave, I stop him. He continues to cry, I don’t know what to do, and I cry too until I have to do something. In tears, walking out to the phone in the kitchen. Shane, can you come over? Sorry Rachey, I can’t. I’m grounded, remember? Please, I need you! So he comes over. And the three of us sit and cry for a while, until we have convinced Brandon out of it, until we have convinced him to talk to my mom, who calls his mom. It kills me to watch them cry. And after a few hours, it is finally over; although it’s never really ended; not now, maybe not quite ever. And he walks out my door. And so does Shane, who apologizes to my mom. And she sits and tells me that it’s not my fault; after all this, she has the nerve. I know it is, or at least I think I do. But it wasn’t, and it still isn’t, but of course that doesn’t stop me from thinking so. And 14 months later, I am talking to Austin. Did I used to be like this? No. You didn’t used to overanalyze, or underanalyze. If you did, you didn’t show it. You had a balance in the middle. You weren’t overly cocky, and you didn’t hate yourself. And no, you didn’t worry all the time. And it’s like after all of this, I finally realized that it’s true. I used to be her. The girl that many people liked, nice to everyone, trusting. Drug free, smart, had everything. Wasn’t too sad or too happy, had great balances everywhere. I wonder if I’m ever going to be anywhere close to her again, if I can ever wake up in the morning and be her. I know I can’t be her completely, but if I try hard, maybe I can come a little bit close. As soon as I get the energy to try hard enough…

Stupid poem.

I think it's stupid. It's not even cute, just plain stupid. Bah.
(not that i'm not in a bad mood or anything )

1.Find A Guy Who Calls You Beautiful Instead Of Hot
2.Who Calls You Back When You Hang Up On Him
3.Who Will Lie Under The Stars And Listen To Your Heartbeat
4.Or Will Stay Awake Just To Watch You Sleep ..
5.Wait For The Boy Who Kisses Your Forehead
6.Who Wants To Show You Off To The World When You Are In Sweats
7.Who Holds Your Hand In Front Of His Friends
8.Who Thinks You' re Just As Pretty Without Makeup On
9.One Who Is Constantly Reminding You Of How Much He Cares
10.And How Lucky He Is To Have You ..
11.The One Who Turns To His Friends And Says .. " Thats Her "

1. Okay. Superficiality is the problem here I'm assuming? Either way, both words are compliments, take what you can get.
2. Why should he? You've been rude to him, and he shouldn't have to act like a fricken pushover. If you're so intent on talking to him again, you call him back.
3. Okay, I admit, this would be nice. But not all guys are overly romantic, and why should you force someone to be something they're not?
4. Alright, this might be thought of as cute. But hell, I think it's creepy. Why would you want someone to stare at you while you're sleeping? Creeeeeeeeeeeeeeepyyyyyyyyyyyyy.
5. Kisses your forehead? Alright, maybe thought of as cute as well, but what if your forehead is really gross or something? And what's so good about a forehead anyways?
6. Alright, fine. But who says he needs to show you off anyways? Just the fact that he likes you should be enough, but some females just have to want more.
7. Fine. This is the only one I don't disagree with hugely. But again, if you know he really likes you, handholding shouldn't have to happen.
8. Alright, I guess this shows how he's apparently not superficial.
9. I actually think this would get quite annoying. Every day " I care, I care, I care!". After a while, I'd get bored and tell him that I knew it already, and to please be a little more discreet. Actions do infact speak louder than words.
10. See #9. (And after you've been so bitchy with the previous things, maybe he really isn't all that lucky...)
11. That's her eh? Define her. This is completely non specific. If his friends had any brain, and they weren't talking about the fact that you two were going out, prior to your b oyfriend's comment, the most common answer would likely be "who?". Do you really want to look that silly?

So in conclusion, whoever wrote this poem seems to me to be a hopeless romantic. A fairly silly one at that. Obviously their intentions were good, but come on. Good intentions, bad writing.

Dream Girls

it's times like these when you wish you were someone's dream girl. when you wish that someone cared about you in that sort of way. that your words were perfect, along with your face; or at least some part of you. that you had some kind of talent that would make him notice you, but right now you're almost as talentless as someone can get; minus a few exceptions. you're not pure, not perfect. you've had your share of ups and downs, more downs than ups lately, but who really cares other than your close friends? one by one, you watch as they march off with someone else, and come back to you either discussing problems or telling you how much they like each other. it's nice to hear for a couple minutes, until the jealousy and sadness start to kick in. until there's nothing more at that moment you want than to be with someone; to feel how much they like you. but right now, that someone isn't out there. they haven't been for a while. it's been so long since you've felt his touch, and now all you want to do is build over it and go back and erase it. and it was so long ago, new opportunities haven't popped up since then. how can you build your life on opportunities when there's nothign to build on? you look at their girlfriends, who are all so pretty and appear to have so much going for them. every glance is another reason to notice flaws in yourself, the ones that only you seem to see.

Purposes

I wonder where everyone is really going in life. Some people are living their lives to the fullest, getting out there, and being whoever they want to be without concern for too many of the consequences. Living life in the fast lane, as we might like to call it. Some live life in a slower lane, afraid of what some people think, and worrying over the smaller things. It doesn't necessarily mean that either one of these people is wrong, it's just a different life strategy, and everyone has their own. Do we really have choices; and can we all control our feelings? Not necessarily, but that doesn't mean we can't try to live out our life to the fullest. Take charge, what's your purpose? Have you found it yet? If not, are you looking? Where are you going, what do you want to be? Are you running towards the truth or running from it? All important points to consider. Learn who you are as best as you can, try to find out the meaning of the feelings in your head and what's causing them. Have you got any regrets? Merriam Webster dictionary defines a regret as " to be very sorry for something". It's okay to feel bad about things, and to wish they didn't happen, but you are the one who chooses if these things effect you in your current stage of life. It's possible to break free if you try hard enough, but again, it's all up to you. Only you can control this kind of thing. We can always try to do what we want when we want; trying not to regret anything, but this isn't necessarily the best strategy. If we live our lives without regards to the consequences, we're bound to run into trouble somewhere, so all angles must be considered. Despite the fact that our lives are in our hands, there is also a lot of outer influence. No one makes all of their decisions completely by themself; and it's okay to ask for help sometimes. We'd never find ourselves completely if we didn't have others to help us. Even if we try to live our life to the fullest, we can still fail. There are still constraints to everything, but that's life. We've got to try to make something of it. And remember, you have the most influence over yourself. Use that influence as much as possible.

On a last note, "Do you serve a purpose or purposely serve" (from 'Omega' by Stone Sour)
Are you living life for you or someone else?
If you're living for someone else, is that person still going to be important to you in 10 years?
Will you be able to go on without that person if they leave, or have you become completely dependent?
And most importantly, how much control do you actually have if you're basing everything you think about yourself on someone else?
Think about it.

Grape suckers and broken hearts

I guess I’ve just started to think how cute little kids are. I’m sitting on the 60 waiting to go home so I can help my mom wash her hair. It’s like the sight of them almost brings me to tears, in a good and bad way at the same time. It makes me happy that their mom is treating them nicely and letting them sit where they want to. The girl, Melissa (or so I’ve heard) is wearing a cute little tanktop and short set which is blue and says princess on it. A package of cigarettes (a brand I’ve never heard of) is sticking out slightly from their mother’s backpack. For a second I wonder why she started smoking, and then I feel a little mad because her kids are probably inhaling secondhand smoke. I guess I can always hote that she smokes outside. The topic of smoking clouds my mind for a second (no pun intended :P). I think I’ve finally realized that there’s no real point to smoking, I mean not that I didn’t before, but still. All it does for the most part is waste your money and shorten your life one slow drag at a time. I guess that some people could argue--- wow. Now one of the kids is talking about how “daddy got in trouble with the police”, but one is arguing that he didn’t. I guess the parents are divorced. I wonder how that would be…I think I’d probably hate that. The little girl has just told her mom that she loves her. It’s adorable. I guess it makes me want to cry, again. The fact that this girl who can only be about 5 or 6 has such an unconditional love for someone, one that isn’t going to hurt, at least for now. One that’s going to last long where she doesn’t have to worry about someone breaking her heart. The smell of her grape sucker combined with the heat and my small lunch is making me nauseous. They’re getting off the bus now and walking down another cracked Millwoods sidewalk. I wonder where these innocent little kids are going in life. I know that one day they’re going to go through something terrible and feel like they can’t even recover, maybe even like they’re going to die. It might tear them apart from the insides while other people watch because they can’t even help. Unfortunately every single person has one of these events in their lifetime. The bend or break, fight or flight kind of situations. I still believe that everyone has the potential to get back up from these events; but not everyone uses this potential. I ride home with a heavy heart today, not because everyone goes through bad times---but because there seems to be so much opportunity in the world that’s often hard to take advantage of. Not everyone is brave and courageous, not everyone can say what they want when they want. People can’t just go around confessing their feelings and be accepted every time they do so. Some people can pick themselves up really easily because they love themselves and have self confidence, but not everyone does, and that’s the sad part. I suppose all we can do is keep trying—pushing harder to the bravery end of the spectrum and hoping it pays off (although no one can guarantee it will). But what happens when our will to try runs out?

Him.

I sit silently on my bed as he walks out of my room for the last time ever. He doesn't shut my door, but walks limply out and down my hallway, for the last time. And I am numb. I'm not sure whether it's from the fact that I am feeling too little, or feeling too much. Can I accept that it's over, or do I even really know what's happening? He has been crying for the past couple hours, and I am crying with him; I am crying with him as he promises over and over to kill himself, for I am the only girl that he will ever love. I am crying as he screams and cries and tells me not to, but I hold my ground. I am grabbing his arm as hard as I can and trying to prevent him from leaving, and he almost succeeds b ut does not really go, so I win this time. If I think back hard enough, I can still feel his arm in my hand, I can still feel my grip and my desperation, but mostly the guilt which ate at my insides those months ago. I can still see the knives in my kitchen. And I can see myself in my Chargers sweatsuit in front of the full length mirror in my parents' room, telling my mom that this is all my fault. I am so drained that I'm not sure how much longer I will be able to feel for. I cry and I cry and cry and nothing can take away how wrong I feel. How bad I feel, that I did something wrong. I wake up and Thursday is the happiest day of my life, I am happy and running around my math class and telling everyone what happened, because I am so relieved and maybe if I tell enough people, I will be able to start over quicker. I guess it isn't true. I guess it isn't true as I sit here many months later, on April 13, 2005. I think back and wish I could block it all out, but I can't. He is still dating Krysta like he was a year ago, and there is nothing I can do, and I cannot go back and make him keep his promise. I cannot go back and let him run out my door to go kill himself. I cannot rewind and put down the cigarette or put down the pipe or put down the bottle. I cannot go back and erase my promises. I can't fix what I've done, except to quit. I can stop this, and I remember the promise I made to myself about 8 days ago. Never again. I still wonder what he is doing. I still think about what happened on New Years. I still think about him, every single fucking day. And about how he won't disappear from my mind. He is stuck, and so am I. And my only option left is to pull myself completely out- but can I do this? I wonder...