You're welcome. You wasted my time, too. All six years. 
I know I'm angry. And I want to be. I've spent too much time forgiving and pushing myself to make everything appear to fine. I don't trust you and I never will. No male is worth trusting. They all have their own agenda, their own interests. You can't give them your heart.
I had the only boy worth trusting. And I pushed him away. I had someone who was there and loved me and cared about me. He never lied to me or insulted me to make himself feel better. We may have not been a perfect fit, but no one would be.
Every person is a puzzle piece. We're all different shapes and sizes. It's a big puzzle. But, none of us fit together without any effort. Our holes may be too small, the places where we stick out may be too big. It takes pushing, pulling and prodding to even get us to resemble two pieces fitting together. And even then, we keep moving, independently closer together or farther apart. So really, no one is anyone's missing piece.
It was naive to think that anyone, especially you, could come close to that.
It's not that I want too much. It's that I hoped for it. 

I like when I don't care. But, I realize this once it's too late. After I already care. After I care too much. That's when I appreciate not caring.I've started this ritual of dressing nicely on Fridays. I'm not sure why, but I think I've developed a love-hate relationship with the last day of the school week. It's beginning to be my least favorite day and besides it being the start of a weekend, I don't have reasons for looking forward to it. It may just be a part of my newly acquired blah existence due to more unknown reasons and maybe when I get over it, I'll love Fridays again. I want to name my daughter Friday. If there can be a Wednesday, why can't I use Friday? Friday Lilly. Yeah, I like that. It sounds like a pretty flower that grows on green hillsides when the weather is just comfortable enough to wear a T-shirt and shorts. Lilly Friday wouldn't work. It sounds more like a holiday than a name and that's just tacky. Like naming someone Hump Day. Oh wait...
But, I digress. I know that I'm probably suffering more from self-inflicted troubles than actual problems, but I can't help but wonder if this has anything to do with the ever decreasing temperature outside. It's abruptly in the fifties and the constant cover of clouds looks more threatening than shielding. The random rains aren't warm and when I walk barefoot through puddles, the cool water numbs my toes. 
I feel cheated. Where is autumn? This mixture of cold and wet is supposed to come with snow in December. October is autumn's month. October is my month. Winter needs to hibernate a little longer.
Yesterday, I literally ran out of the meeting. I had to meet a friend and I lost track of time. But, only she said goodbye. I waved over my shoulder as I sprinted through the door -- I didn't want to know if anyone else noticed. The romantic drama that surrounds theater people is better left to those who are required to be in it by major. I'm not part of that equation. I'm happier with my books and essays than the games of flirting. And I'm already half convinced by this lie.
See? Caring is always my downfall. 

My life is a never ending essay writing nightmare. As soon as I finish one essay, I have another one to start. I can't find any excuse to write for pleasure with all of this homework and I'm drowning in Word documents all on my Start bar.
Sometimes, I lay awake in my bed at night and think about what I want to accomplish the next day. It can be mundane tasks, like take out the bag of trash that has been sitting at the end of my bed for days now. But, it can be huge undertakings, as well. Like, memorize the first thousand digits of pie. It's also during this time that I have sudden inspiration strike and I think of something that I need to do tomorrow. Something amazing, something important, something that I'll be remembered for forever. But, I never write any of them down. So, inevitably, I forget by the time the sun rises.
"This is Liz. She's an English major."
"There's more to me than just my major."
"That's right. You have a beautiful smile and an amazing personality."
I really hope he was joking... Well, maybe not completely joking. Because then it was an insult. I just don't want it to be flirting.
Flirting. Flirting? Flirting! Goodness. What a gross word. 

My new chapter has gotten off to a rocky start. Relationships are always difficult. Even the easiest ones aren't simple. Everything would work out if we were willing to try.
I want to have adventures. I want to explore places no one has before. I want to sit on a bench and people watch. I want to take a hike on a long trail by myself. I want to dance in an empty ballroom with you. I want to write a poem that's three pages long. I want to listen to fifties music. I want a red dress. I want someone to give me a hug. I want my nails painted black. I want an umbrella with polka dots on it. I want to sit in a graveyard and write vignettes. I want to watch horror movies for twenty four hours straight. I want homemade macaroni and cheese fresh from the oven. I want someone unexpected to call me. I want to swim in a lake. I want to go out on a boat in the bay. I want to buy four packs of colored pencils. I want to read seven books next week. I want to find a red leaf and press it in a heavy book I never use. I want to clean my bathroom and make it smell like lavender. I want to drink mint tea in fancy tea cups. I want to get a tattoo on my right wrist. I want to make my own jewelry. I want to hold your hand when I walk. I want to hold your hand when I sleep. I want him to give me a reason to leave. I want to take a really long car ride to no where in particular. I want to play the piano on a stage. I want to sit in a coffee shop and draw a picture. I want a smoothie with ice cream. I want to sing in the shower. I want to wear makeup every day. I want to wear a dress on Tuesdays. I want to learn how to sew. I want to live with an Amish family for a summer. I want to pick strawberries with you. I want to write a letter to the president. I want a red pen with red ink. I want another stuffed animal to put on my bed. I want to go urban exploring. I want to break into your house and leave tootsie pops everywhere. I want to graffiti under an overpass, on a bridge and in my dorm room. I want a paint set with every color imaginable. I want my life to feel like a plot line from my favorite book. I want my camera back. I want to follow you around and write everything you do in a notebook. I want to dye my hair bright red. I want to play soccer against a group of boys. I want to take ballroom dancing lessons. I want to take an hour long shower. I want to star in a music video of Vanessa Carlton's. I want to get hit on by a teacher's assistant. I want to read romance novels on the beach. I want to see fireworks. I want to play with an Ouija board at exactly three o'clock. I want to avoid every crack in the sidewalk. I want it to rain one day soon. I want my grades to be good. I want to bake a cake. I want to do my homework by candlelight. I want to write a song with someone. I want to see a shooting star. I want to collect bottle caps. I want to text someone important. I want to make plans years in advance. I want another rose calender. I want to be British for one day. I want to take a plane ride to Nebraska. I want to smell like chocolate and strawberries. I want to tell a beautiful lie. I want to paint a picture of a baby carriage. I want to own a bookstore. I want to get addicted to small talk. I want to visit my elementary school. I want my parents to help me get a job. I want you to tell me that you're sorry. I want a lot.
Maybe I do want too much. 

Please. Let me go. I'm tired of this. I'm never going to pick you.
Lately, I've been feeling like I'm stuck in between two chapters of my life. That space at the bottom of the page, after the last paragraph, that the author just couldn't fill. It's a strange feeling, not necessarily negative. Somehow, I feel like something has ended and something else is about to begin. I'm not sure what it is or how significant it's going to be, but I'm curious.
I've only felt like this once before and that was clearly in junior year. I became a different person then. The transformation was gradual however, so the limbo feeling was inevitable. Plus, I knew where I was headed. I knew what the next chapter was going to be. This time, it's all a mystery.
She said one night that she was perfectly happy with keeping the future a secret. The here and now is what matters and what comes later down the road should remain a surprise. I felt uncomfortable disagreeing with her since her family is very attune to this sort of thing, but I think that sometimes, it would be nice to know what I have to look forward to. She read my tarot cards, against her better judgement. It didn't really give me any insight. It told me what I already know.
Perhaps we all know our future. Somewhere inside ourselves, we know what choices we'll make and which path we'll end up taking. It is a choice after all. I know I'm confusing with my constant contradictions. I believe firmly in fate and firmly in the power of choice. What is meant to happen will and some things are just not in our control. Death is one of those. But, we can control our decisions and how we feel. And that can make our lives a whole lot more enjoyable.
If you believe in something strongly enough, I think that can help your odds involving fate. It's different than believing in God or some other higher being. There may or not be someone watching over us. We might not have a guide. But, everything that happens has a reason whether you are aware of that reason. And everything that is going to happen will, good and bad. It's what we make of it that defines us and makes us who we are.
Fate and choice work together to create this world. It's not fair to push all the blame to fate, but it's also not all up to you. There is a middle ground that many people would do well to reach. That's where I hope my next chapter leads me.
In any case, I hope this next chapter is a good one.

I'm thinking maybe I can't have relationships because lately they're not making any sense. And baby, you're the one thing on my mind, but that could change anytime.

Autumn is coming. I can feel it after the sun goes down and the temperature drops to sixty. My hands get cold and my hair feels damp against my back. 
I may love spring and summer and the happiness of the change from winter to warmth. But, there is something special about fall that no other season has. If fall didn't mean the inevitable coming of winter, it would be my favorite. The colors the trees turn and the comfort of the sweet chill in the air is so unique. I only have fond memories of autumn.
We're approaching the month that you emerged from the background buzz of my life. All of autumn reminds me of you. I can remember the cold rains that seemed never ending and the long nights I spent talking to you on the phone. The early snow made you want to be with me even more. My heart would beat fast whenever I thought of you. The night that you told me that you loved me, I thought my heart would stop. All of it just comes seeping back into my brain, like I just stepped in a puddle left over from those cold rains and the water is slowing saturating my shoe. It's startling. And a little uncomfortable.
Sitting here, I can sort of smell that familiar autumn scent. It's earthy and sweet. I like how in October, you can go outside for five minutes and come back inside smelling like trees. I like looking outside and watching the wind blow, knocking the leaves off into the air where they swirl around past your window to make you blink with surprise. That's sort of how it is with you.
I know autumn is your favorite. And it's ironic that fall means so much in accordance with our relationship. Relationship is a term I use loosely. We're barely even friends. We'll never be anything more. But, this season, I'm going to be thinking about you every times a leaf flies past my apartment room's window. It makes me wonder what your purpose in my life is supposed to be. 

Him: What are you...doing?
Her: Trying to become an endless abyss.
Him: Huh?
Her: I want to have more depth to my character.
Him: Character?
Her: Yes. I'm tired of being a shallow pool. I'm a puddle of a person, really.
Him: Are these...lyrics?
Her: You think it would make a good song?
Him: You're the furthest thing from a shallow pool. Ever. Fuck you, you're one of the deepest, most complex people I've ever met in my life. I could write books about trying to figure you out. Your rules change more than mine do!
Her: That's funny. I mean. Not in a "haha" sort of way. I could say the same about you!
Him: Stop. I'm just a scumbag.
Her: That's not true. You have so many sides. You're my dodecahedron. 
...
Her: But, I still want to become an endless abyss.
Him: I'm not sure what that...means.
Her: It means I want to be so complex and deep that no one can figure me out. Ever.
Him: Done! Check!

Another snippet conversation I'd like to include in a novel.

Today was a long day. And I didn't once catch myself thinking that I wish she was here.
Quite frankly, I'm not sure anyone anywhere catches themselves thinking that about her. And I'm not sure she understands the small quantity of friends she has. Maybe she'll find someone else. Or maybe she'll actually become independent and likable and selfless and humble and less annoying and truthful. Maybe not having me is the best thing for her and she'll morph into an amazing, perfect human being who everyone will flock towards and worship. But, she won't notice or want the attention because she's humble and shy. And that will make everyone like her more. She'll become hard working and sufficient. Then, she'll meet a wonderful person that she'll share responsibilities with and do favors for without expecting anything in return. They'll carry each other's baggage equally and she won't ever complain about helping out. They'll spend just enough time together, while giving everyone their space. She'll call every once in a while to make sure everything is all right. Her texts will be kind and thoughtful, never full of self pity or complaints. When they hang out, they'll laugh a lot and have tons of inside jokes. But, she'll respect how branching out without her is a good thing. She will understand how some things don't have to be shared and sometimes, things are personal. Listening will become one of her best qualities and good advice will always be presented. She won't be a hypocrite anymore and instead, she'll see her faults and mistakes. By leaving her, she'll become the best version of a human that there ever was and ever will be.
I know that this won't ever happen. And by next month, she'll have found someone new to cling to and she'll have long forgotten me. But, I can hope.
She could never be the one that I want. 

If I write this entry, it will probably turn in to a long list of complaints and grumblings that have been slowly building since last week. That is not how I want to spend this blog, but I'm tired of my unhappiness confined only in my mind. I should write some of it down. And maybe that will help me compartmentalize and deal.
I suppose I should start with where I left off. I haven't seen her since and I'm hoping to avoid her all the way up to leaving for college. I'm not being rude. Ignoring her is keeping me from saying very truthful things. I thought after a day or two I would have forgotten how frustrated and annoyed I am. But, I just got angrier at her this time.
Whenever she contacts me, I know it's either one or more of the following: a.) to complain about her mother, b.) complain about her cousin, c.) complain about someone in general, d.) tell me some amazingly boring story about her plans, e.) tell me about a dream she had, f.) she's bored and needs me for entertainment or g.) to ask me to do something she's too lazy to do. None of those really peaks my interest and most of the time, I'd like to ignore her texts and phone calls. I only respond out of courtesy. But, lately, I haven't been responding much at all. In fact, today it was letter jee and I just never responded. I woke up, checked my phone and deleted her text before showering. She hasn't contacted me since.
The worse thing about this is I keep thinking about ending our friendship. And I try to think about life without her. I figured out that the only thing I'll miss is her driving me around and paying for things. That's about it. Everything else about her, quite frankly, is horrible.
Speaking of horrible, you're not someone I ever want to picture myself with again. You tell me to move on, forgive and forget. But, that is the opposite of what I want to do. I won't hold a grudge, but I never want to get attached to you again. I will never allow myself to get close to you and I'm never going to text or call you first. That is a privilege. You lost that when you insulted me in every possible way. And there is no way to earn that back. Deal with my rules. I won't ever change them for someone as deplorable as you.
Of course, this also applies to my father. I'm still waiting for him to apologize. And maybe to stop being an asshole. And unreasonable. When I move out and I no longer need him, I don't really ever want to see him.
Perhaps it's better if I could be left alone.