Old Me: "It gets better?"

Informer: A licky boom-boom down.


Dave and I are ready to kill each other. The last few days have been really strange. After [what] I'd say was a good weekend (Dave's house Friday, went to church [oh, it burns!] et football game Sunday) things started to get ugly. Tuesday he got terribly confused over the meaning of my letter, we talked rather strangely Tuesday night until I hung up on him (sorta). [How do you "sorta" hang up on someone?] Wednesday was pretty tense, Wednesday night (last night) he was being really ignorant and today - Thursday - I wrote him a pretty bad letter (after hanging up on him again last night. Hopefully we'll make up tonight. Waaaah. He's such a pain i' the butt. [Okay, let's address this here: I thought it was cool to change the word "in" to an "i'"... I don't know why.]

[I don't think I can insert a table here so I'll describe what's written next. There are two columns. One says: "Stay where I am" and the other says "Refuse to live with 'it'." This is in reference to my father moving back in. Under "Stay where I am" it says, "Have to fight with them constantly" and "things will eventually go right back to like they were before." Under "Refuse to live with 'it'" it says "Have a 'normal' life" and "have to fight with Janet constantly." Both are completely accurate and eventually come to fruition.]

H.A. just disrupted my peaceful rest which is good in a way or else I would've fallen asleep. I've had 12 hrs. of sleep in the past two days. Not enough. I hate it when someone wakes you up and then you can't go back to sleep. I think Dave stayed home today, I was sorta hoping he would but I didn't want April to stay home too. Well, not home, but she's watching animals being slaughtered or something grotesque like that [I don't know]. I had tons of fun yesterday. Nuff said.

2 or 3 years. I can't believe he would say 2 or 3 years. YEARS! Not that it's bad but I just can't imagine going out with someone for 2 or 3 years. Not me anyway. But then again, why not? It would be great if it would work. [I wrote the W in the second "would" in a way that makes it look like it could be either a W or a C.]

I'm starting to miss Seth again. I hate missing people, him especially. There are only 2 people I've ever missed a whole lot. Seth and John. But John's changed so much. I always wonder if he ever thinks about everything we used to do together. (Which was everything.) He doesn't seem to. We were almost inseparable when we were little. I knew him since birth. I don't understand how you can just not care about. I don't know. We did everything together. He even went to the bathroom with me. That's funny. Whenever I went to the bathroom at his house he wouldn't let me go alone, no matter how I protested. We played together all day long, watched really bad horror movies all the time, I went to his stupid soccer practices & games, and his baseball games, and even the grocery store. We even used to play doctor upstairs at my house, he was the first person I kissed. That's funny, too. I think we were 5. I remember I called him on the phone and told him I was coming over because I "had something for him." We were sitting on the hood of his mom's car and I kissed him on the cheek. It was so cute because he didn't like it at all.

I remember him rubbing my stomach. That seems really strange now but it didn't at the time. We were laying on the floor in his room [which had Smurf wallpaper] and he had his hand under my shirt rubbing my stomach. Why? And I always had to sit on his back because he wanted me to. He used to give me presents all the time for no reason and I never gave him anything. He gave me a charm necklace for no reason, I still have the hideous thing. [To this day I still have it. And I don't think it's hideous anymore.]

That's depressing. I gotta think about something else.

I'm really confused about me and Dave. I don't know if it's going to work like this. I wish I knew what the cause of all his problems was. Now he's got to decide whether or not he should tell his mom. I want to say yes but that wouldn't solve anything, make things worse actually, but if he's willing to risk it...

I don't know what to do. I know I'm not doing anything right. At least I feel that way. I wish I could just say it's not my problem but it is now because he told me. I don't know if I regret him telling me or not. No. I'm glad I know but I don't know what to tell him. I can't imagine this happening to me.

I like Dave a lot but I'm beginning to wonder if I really love him. (I better not let him read this.) But I don't really know what love feels like. Sometimes I think it is but then I don't feel anything, like I don't even know him. It's like the only thing I know is this big secret and if he tells everyone it's just all going to be over. I don't want it to be that way but how do you find out things about people?

What can I write that's not about Dave? I've noticed I'm always sad in the morning and I'm always tired [some things never change]. I didn't do my homework last night. Worked on the hallway. No comments at the moment, it seems like a boring thing to write about anyway. I finally finished watching Truth or Dare last night. I thought that overall it was boring. ***Note to Dave: The two guys kissing wasn't anything special. The best parts are the stuff from the actual concert. Boring with a capital Bore. [Glad to see I've always been hard to impress.] I don't think Madonna's anything like most people think she is. I think most of it's just an act. [Really? Is that what you think?]

[... Some rambling ... I literally wrote "happy to be nappy" here ...]

[This sounds like me to this day:] I feel ill. This class is so unbearable.

I guess I should just title this thing "Dave." That's all I write about. And right now I feel like being mad at him. He's so confusing. I know I'm not exactly the most compassionate person [this has been verified]. I'm so tired of writing, I write constantly.

Sometimes I wish things were like before, like it was last year when, I guess you're never happy with what you have. Last year I wanted this but now I wish it was like before.

I'm afraid to get too attached to him because I guess I don't trust him [oh my god, I wish you would have followed your instincts! Not trustworthy!] I want to be but it doesn't seem possible. It's funny, but I don't really even know my real feelings toward him. Sometimes I think I do and then I don't think I like him at all, like Friday when I wrote down all those things about him, I don't feel bad about what I wrote but I would if he knew that I wrote them. [Bullshit.] April's, well I don't like April very much right now. I can't say why. It's just this feeling I have.

[... Stuff about my mom ... Stuff about some girl I don't remember but who claims she knew me from elementary school ... The thing about this girl is that she kept trying to be my friend on FB recently and I STILL don't remember her at all.]

I wonder if I could get Dave to tell me everything he thinks about this most bizarre relationship. Last night it was "you don't believe me." Don't believe what?! He never would tell me. Why doesn't he tell me straight out and I wanted to talk to him last night, too. If he meant what I think he did the scary thing is I do believe him.

I'm worried about me and Dave. We're not the greatest couple and I wish we could be but I know it's not possible. He told his comp[osition] class yesterday that he's bisexual. I don't know.

[Obviously picked up later here:]
I have a plan, I'm just going to write down the days events [ ... ]

"Was a outcast?"

Homeroom doesn't count. First period: Got my candy [???], fed Danny some gummy bears, that's about the most interesting thing that happened. I forget a lot of things for some reason [still do], I just remember stupid stuff like feeding people gummy bears. Pd. 2. The most boring class. Dave [this is Dave #2 from earlier] came in and said hi to me in this cute little cartoon voice. It sounds familiar but I don't know who it is. He's a confusing person. Mark and Kevin are good for entertainment. Pd. 3 study hall. Saw Dave? Yep after 2nd nothing special. 3rd pd. was 3rd pd. Wrote to Dave of course. Pd. 4. I hate this class! Ugh! This is boring, pd. 5 - Greg amuses once again. What do you mean I don't have real women's fingernails?! Just because Molly bites hers until they look like stubs instead of finger tips. Pd. 6. My favorite class o'course [see earlier note about making "in" "i'"] Dave [#2] is funny and the secret comes out. "You're going out with him?!" Um... Yes. April's [I'm thinking this is a different April than my bff but I can't be sure] first response, that he's bisexual! Um... Yes. Activity pd. Dan informs me that we need to talk. No thanks, I know what you're going to say [what the fuck is "activity period"?]. It's so funny to see him telling me this. Dave is bisexual. Yes I know, I've known for a long time now. I got a letter from my son [we'll call him "Jimmy," ohmygod I loved that guy! He liked to call me "mommy" for some reason.]. What an adorable child I have.

That's enough. How tragic. It's not embarrassing, maybe a little when they're all so ignorant about it [note that this all happened long before Glee was popular. Is Glee popular?]. Actually it's funny. But I like Dave, he's absolutely perfect (well, sometimes). I'd say all the time but he wouldn't like that. I just want to smooch all over his cute little face. (Wouldn't April die?!) But he needs to cut his hair. What an interesting comment. I ought to write all the things I feel about him, and be really honest with myself. And I should cry. But I just can't (unless I'm surrounded by a group of strangers). [I'm referring to an Al-anon group my mother and I attended together during this time.] I guess I do feel a little stupid about that but not really. But I never cry, I used to cry about it all the time. It being my life, about my parents, being sorry for myself. But I have to think about things to cry and that's why I don't think about things because it's so traumatic.

I wish he'd call! I miss hearing his voice. It's happening.

Love has to be the most painful emotion in the world. We'll probably never forget our first kiss. It was so funny, it scared me at first because I didn't know he was going to do it. I made some kind of strange noise, sometimes I feel really stupid that I did that but I shouldn't. [No, you shouldn't. And he had a waterbed.] It was funny in my opinion. Dave takes everything too seriously but I don't take things seriously enough. I wish I could try it again.

I guess deep down I've always known but I didn't want to admit it. I didn't want it to be true but since it is it's not so bad. I knew it before he even admitted it. I don't think I'll ever forget that phone call [you will], he said "it was a _ _ _," I knew it as soon as he told me it was 3 letters and it was the scariest/worst thing I'd ever heard. I felt like it was at the time. I think that was the night he asked me out. I said yes.

They're asking me if it's true! Help! Jeremy told Mrs. Benoit that he told them. You should have saw [sic] her face. She didn't say anything.

[ ... ] 

Dave is grounded, he can't talk on the phone. What the hell has he done now?! I'm so mad at him! I thought I was going to cry when she told me that. I'm so mad! I didn't cry though. I can't for some reason, I tried, I really did, but I'm more angry than mad. Mad at his mom more than him because she's such a hypocritical moron. [Funny.]

[Next are transcribed lyrics to "World In My Eyes" by Depeche Mode which has the following as the highest rated comment (147 thumbs up) on youtube: "Wanna have the best sex ever? Do it while listening to Depeche Mode :)"]

[Then:] Ain't it grand, Dave is lapsing back into Dave and I'm still mad. Mrs. Benoit asked me if he's really serious. I said yes. As far as I know and he seems to be telling me the truth.

For fucks sake. The melodrama is giving me a twitch. I've started mixing aliases with real names! What if someone reads this ... We'll leave it there. What if someone reads this? 

Old Me: Just Stay Home

OH MY GOD.

I'm depressed again and I even wore my depression shirt. [I remember this shitty shirt, it's depressing to think about even now.] I wrote to Sarah last night but gosh darnit [sic] I didn't have a stamp. I just never could call her. I'm mad at Dave and I wish I would've stayed home today because I didn't do my homework for this most highly exhalted [sic] class. I couldn't -- didn't know how.  I'm mad at Dave because he didn't call me back. And because he's so moody. He may have called but I'm not sure. [OverReacTron 2000.] I hate the fact that he has this special knack at making me mad. He's so obnoxious. But I'm still here -- mad, depressed, hungry, tired, confused and downright pissed. [This all sounds suspiciously like PMS, which is the hunch I had about the last entry.] Okay - I'm going to start over now.

[...]

No offense but this class is getting terribly boring. Oh, great, now the sun's coming out. Just what'll make me feel better. Where's the wind and rain and darkness? I'm really in a bad mood and I hate being in a bad mood.

Later -- Should I call Dave or wait and see if he calls me? I'm opting for the former. But what if his mom won't let him call? [It seems I actually meant latter.] Does that mean I'm allowed to call him? I'll wait a while.

I wish I could think of something... Oh! Guess what? Janet's preggers again [my sister]. 10 weeks. How she waited that long to tell I don't know. I was so happy when I found out. I wasn't suprised - I wasn't last time either. I knew it had to be soon. I've been really wanting a baby, too. (Wanting Janet to have one, of course.) They're so cute, just to hold them and rock them and give them their bottle. They're cute until they start walking and talking [I still agree]. (Kenny) He's not a baby anymore.

I was just thinking of what I would write to Dave assuming I did love him. And not something about the psycho child from hell.

[Here I wrote out the alphabet with "Dave's" full name interspersed.]

I'd write that but much more elaborate I'd imagine. [I can't imagine.] If it were to come to that of course.

Which right now I don't care. I'm in a bad mood. A real bad mood and I don't want to be in a bad mood but I am in a bad mood and I hate it. You know what would make me in a happy mood would be if I would've stayed home today. Then I would be in the best mood cause I'd be asleep. I miss sleep. I really do. Sometimes. I can't stay home tomorrow, it would have to be either a Tuesday, Wednesday, or Thursday. I'm hoping Sarah calls me tonight. Or I call her. I was going to call her last night (as I am every night but don't). I really want to talk to her. It must be because I'm terribly sad.

Did you know that Jim Morrison was killed by Pam, his girlfriend? How tragic can you get. She was giving him heroin. [Mmm, free will. I was kind of obsessed with Jim Morrison, reading books about him and poetry books by him. I was never that into the music, though. Huh.] It can't be all her fault though. He let her [Oh. I should've read ahead.] But then a few years later she herself overdosed and is daid [sic] as she should be.

[...]

There's so much I want to write about. I bet  you can't guess what/who it's about? Yep, you're "write."  There's so much about him I don't know. But that's mutual. I guess you can never know everything about a person, it would be boring if you did. As far as I can tell I love him [whoa!]. He's so fucked up right now [double whoa for the first f-bomb I drop!]. I don't know if he can love back but that's that [sic] important. [Freudian slip? A. How could that NOT be important? B. I think it is THAT THAT important, dummy.] You should never waste a chance to tell someone you love them [jeez, embroider a pillow, why don'tcha]. I lost my train of thought again. (Chug-chug.) There's so much I want to say I can't think of anything. My newest discovery? NIИ - Nine Inch Nails. The coolest stuff yet. I've got to get more.

I have this huge secret I'm just dying to mention. It's the coolest thing. And to think all this time and I'm just now finding out. [I think I'm about to die from embarrassment.] I feel like a weed for thinking it's so cool [you should feel that way]. I mean it's got to be terribly difficult to actually live it. To think I actually know someone who's attracted to people of the same sex. Isn't that wild?! [And... I just died.] I wonder what he'd say if he knew I felt this way? [Also embarrassed?]

[... I mention my cat, transcribe some Nine Inch Nails lyrics for 3 & 1/2 pages ...]

I'm not a happy (humpy) camper. I don't think Dave is here. My day's shot. I really almost stayed home today. Now I wish I really did. School is getting boring. I'm hoping to go over Dave's house Friday night. Saturday we're going to 3 Little Bakers [yeah, it's a dinner theater]. My mom's a weiner. She won't let me go over on a week night. Is that the most bogus thing you've ever hear? [I'm still amazed she let me go to his place at all.] But weekends aren't out. I'm going to make a list of all the stuff I want to take with me when I go. [WTF?] I'm going to have a suitcase full of stuff to take with me. [KNOW ME! LOVE ME!] What if he is here but I just didn't see him. I hope so. We didn't get to talk much last night.

This day is going to last forever.

[Page(s) missing. When it starts up again I'm talking about my father. I think this might be around the time my mother let him move back into the house with us:]

...he even home, too drunk to notice, I guess. Fifteen years I had to deal with the stupid bastard. Until, um, last May I think it was when I finally decided I wasn't going to live like that anymore. Not that he ever said or did anything to me. [Hmm. He definitely said some weird shit to me but I think it was after this time period.] We barely acknowledge each other's existence. But nobody deserves to listen to him constantly putting other people down, especially your mother who has somehow accepted that living like that's okay. It's okay to be called a bitch and/or worse every single day of your life. I blame her a lot for everything. How she can sit there and watch 9 kids be put through every kind of abuse possible is beyond me. He used to beat David, punched Diane right in front of everyone while they were eating dinner, nobody even tried to stop him! The worse stuff happened before me.

I don't want to talk about that anymore.

April's not here, the wench. She said she wouldn't be here Friday, it's only Thursday. She's here, the wench. I couldn't stay home today, my mom did. It's truly hell trying to stay home when she does. Acting like you're sick all day. It makes me really sick.

I wish Dave and me [grammar, people!] could hmm. I don't know how to say what I'm thinking. I want more. I'll just leave it at that. What is more? More everything. That's sickening. [???] It's not a great feeling, wanting to be with a person all the time. [Oh.] It just makes you sad because you can't be and really you don't want to be because I get annoyed after 2 days of the same person being constantly around. I'm flustered, I love/hate that word. Frustrated is a better word. It's crazy because I don't know why I am. I got my pepperoni "logs." They're real cute all wrapped up avec bow [WHAT are you talking about?]. I'd rather have a bologna (baloney) (I like that word better) log, though. Oops. I shouldn't go there. Sometimes I think I do want it but then sometimes the thought of it makes me nauseous. [I hear ya, sister.] Not because it's Dave. It could be anybody. It's a scary thought.

Tales of a 15 year old virgin. Next: more relationship confusion, mostly revolving around cryptic conversations and news of the relationship getting out, thoughts on Madonna's movie Truth or Dare, and remembrances of childhood friends.  

Old Me: Now, a song like "Touch Me, I'm Dick" is about... what?

The absolute randomness of all this is fascinating. The lack of depth (I start talking about peer pressure and then notice that I need to "do my nails") is, um, too familiar?  

I'm getting psyched about Thanksgiving already.  I think it's strange how no one else but us makes a big deal about Thanksgiving.  But not everyone else has 7 brothers and sisters.  We always make a big deal about Thanksgiving.  We all go to my brother David's since he has the biggest house.  It's a big deal anyway.  [Blah, blah, blah.]

I want to write about you-know-who again.  It's pretty sad that that's the only thing I can ever think to write about.  I called him last night but it wasn't very eventful. We didn't get to talk about much important stuff.  He just went on and on about what it is about him that nobody likes.  [And that's not about me so: not important.]  How am I  supposed to tell him when I don't think there is anything wrong with him.  So my mission for the day is to ask people what it is about him that's so bad.  His attitude maybe.  But I don't know what he's like in school this year since I don't have any classes with him.  From what I can tell he seems to be somewhat improving. [Lulz.]

I want to know when I get to come over his house.  I really, really want to see the boy wonder at home.  (Sounds like a good idea for a picture of some sort.)  [What?]  But it seems pretty rude of me to just ask him when I can come over.  I'm hoping to bring him to church with me eventually (within the next 6 weeks anyway [that's arbitrary]).  I also want him to read some of the stuff I've written in here about him.  Maybe we can do something Sunday.  But what I really want is for him to go to see the movie "Singles" with me.  But I don't really have a way to get there from here unless I beg.  I'll start working on it.

I don't get it.  "A Perfect Day for Bananafish."  What was this guy?  He sounds like a child molester.  And is this bananafish what everybody's thinking it is?  I'm glad he killed himself.  He was a very sick person.  I liked the story overall.  [Wow.]  Sounds just like something J.D. Salinger would write.  Isn't this Seymour Glass the same one who had killed himself in Franny and Zooey?

I think our relationship is in serious decline but the thing is I really don't mind.  I really hate to say it but I'm beginning to see Dave like everyone else does now.  I wish it didn't have to be this way.

I wonder if I really am considered mean sometimes.  [Yes.  I still am.]  I wish I hadn't said that, I don't want to have to explain it.  I'm beginning a depression.  I know what's causing it though.  I can never avoid it.  [PMS?]  I'm experiencing terrible feelings of guilt right now, guilt about Dave and about Sarah.  I still haven't called her.  I feel soooo bad.

I asked Jamie to say hi to Dave.  I hope he's here.  After little serious thought [so does that mean... should there be an "a" in there? or "some serious thought"?] I've concluded that I don't want to lose him (as a friend) I don't know what to do!  And I don't know what it is about us that makes us fight so much, well not get along anyway.

I'm so terribly bored.  I've got nothing to do.  I really should call Sarah.  All I've been doing is going to school.  That's pretty damn boring and I'm just a totally hopeless thing.  And I'm tired.  Very, very tired.  Why doesn't school start at 1 o'clock i' the afternoon?  I could probably make it then.  And we could get out around 7:30 p.m.  That would be dandy.

I really miss summer.  I had a darling summer.  Absolutely darling.  I miss the beach.  We would go there almost every week.  I miss that.  [God.  I still miss that.]

I'm making absolutely no sense whatsoever because I'm so tired I'm brain dead.  [I would like to point out that these last few paragraphs sound no different than anything else I had written, effectively nulling the tired argument.]

I wish it was friday.  I thought it was this morning.  But alas, it's only Thursday.  One day away from Friday, but Thursday all the same.  What a tragedy.

I don't know why but it irritates the hell out of me when I write stupid stuff like I just did.  April's afraid that if I go over Dave's house he'll molest me.  I just laughed.  She says his hair is pee color.  (Yes, as in urine.)  Ain't it grand?  (Rhetorical quest.)

What was I supposed to answer for Dave?  I know "why?" had to be part of it.  But why what?

Last night we went to see "Singles."  It was alright.  Nothing really memorable about it.  It was good but not that good.  [Zing!]  But overall I guess I had fun.  (I guess? -- What's that mean?)  I did have fun.  I had more fun in the car after the movie, [don't get too excited] but I always have fun listening to the radio in a car.  That's really bizarre IMO.  [I don't disagree.]  My mom's really strange about this whole thing.  But you're not allowed to have friends in my family anyway.  (I choose not to explain.)

I should make a list of reasons why I don't want to go out with Dave.  [Why would you do this???  And then why would you want him to read it???]  (I hate that phrase -- going out with, it just sounds so queer -- my word o' the day.)

1. It's not him, it's what other people think of him
2. Everybody's against it (friendwise)

[Two?  The list has two items?]  I guess it just all boils down to the big peer pressure issue again.  Nobody in my family's ever really let that affect anything they did.  I usually don't either.  (I really need to do my nails.)  I'm so sick of hearing the damn Muppet theme everyday here in study hall.  It's a bit annoying after a while.  

I don't know what to do!  (I'm lying.)  I know what to do but I don't know if I want to.  No.  I know I want to but I don't know if I should.  I think I should but what would that mean?  (I'm not even understanding my questions now.)  [That makes two of us.  Imagine, I kept information from MYSELF.  No wonder my memory is so shit.]

I'm glad April's here, she wasn't this morning.  I'm also glad Heidi and Heather are back.  Today we take back our table.  I'd rather not go into it.  

And I look crappy today.  But as usual I don't really care.  I never look this bad at home or anywhere else for that matter, only at school.  [We'll blame the fluorescent lighting.]  

And I can't stand this person sitting across from me.  (H.A.)  She's so annoying.  I try to ignore her but it really does no good.  [I actually do remember who this is...]

This is a good stopping point. There should be more drama coming soon and then everything implodes. Bizzee at work! Cheers!   

Old Me: Love is a cunning weaver of fantasies and fables.

It's still September 1992.  The "rowboat" develops:

I have big huge problems.  I can't talk.  Duh.  This is the dumbest problem but it's true and it's terrible.

The problem is he doesn't understand me without me telling him.  Nobody's ever cared enough to pry things out of me like this and I'm annoying the hell out of him.  But he's so rude.  (Why, he'll want to know why!)  (I hate that question.)  He's so rude because everything's my fault.  He doesn't understand that I've never had to "share things" like this.  It's really sweet though.  [How many contradictions can I fit in one paragraph?  A lot, obviously.]  I've never had or wanted to care about anybody else before.  I guess I don't understand how this relationship thing works.  That would explain most of my life then.  The only person I've ever had to care about was myself.  And I've never had to explain myself to anyone.  Not even Sarah.  I want to, I just don't know how.  I might do it for the attention (a little bit) but        [What?]

This will sound really childish but he makes fun of me.  I hate that.  That just makes me not want to tell him anything more.  My mom always yells at me and tells me no one can read my mind and I guess it's true.

This is starting to sound like my diary or something.  Time to move on.

But do I really want to?  What I really want to do may be a bad idea.  It might be too soon.  I want to apologize to Dave for being such a weed.  But why?  [Seriously.  Why?]  Because I'm totally disfunctional [sic] (that word isn't even in the dictionary!)  (How am I ever expected to learn how to spell a word if it doesn't even exist!)  [Maybe if you could spell it right you would find it in the dictionary.]


Let's get down to the real truth:

Why do I really want to apologize to Dave?

Because I cause him so much grief.

Because I want his forgiveness.  Because I like talking to him, because I like the attention, (I guess I can't hide from the truth) because he's my major source of enjoyment (that says something).

But!  Do I like him as a person or him as an attention giver?  That's a good question!  What's my honest answer?

Like - to be pleased with; enjoy

Yes, I like him but why am I pleased with; enjoy him?  I enjoy the attention, who wouldn't.  And I enjoy him as a person but am I pleased with him as a person?  Sometimes, yes.  But not always.  I'll have to think about that one.

[Later]
Guess what I'm going to write about!?  You're right!  How'd you guess?  I'm going crazy!  I can't believe he means this much to me.  I really want to talk to him.  I miss him.  It's only been two days!  I want to call him and apologize so bad!  He's been deliberately avoiding me in the hallways.  Dave #2 says that he said he's not but I know he must be.  Not necessarily though.  I didn't see him at all the first day of school...so.  He's not making any attempt to see me though.  I'm not exactly going out of my way either.

Tomorrow.  I'll think about it tomorrow.  Yeah, right, it's all I'll think about all night.  I'll apologize tomorrow.  Whether he'll accept or not is yet to be seen.

It's today.  I'm not even sure if he's here.  I hope he is.

Somebody really gets on my nerves.  A female somebody who thinks she's something great (I.M.O.)  But I can't stand her.  I was standing there, talking to April [my bff] and she comes right over and starts whispering something.  All I could do was stand there and give her dirty looks.  I've always hated her.  For over two years now.  [Always = over two years.  And I now have NO IDEA who I was referring to.]

I'm all wrote out about Dave and now I can't think of anything more to say about anything.

Sarah.  Sarah is one of the greatest people in the world.  But I'm a total weed.  She told me to call her but I haven't yet.  I really want to, though.  I wish I could just do it.  It could mean great things.  But it's just not happening.

I was just thinking - Dave (IMO) is impressed very easily.  I don't know why I'm thinking about that.  I believe it to be true from what I've seen.  If he doesn't accept my apology I'm going to be a miserable thing for a really long time.  Please, Please Please, Please, Please!  (A little begging never hurts anyone.)  (As long as it doesn't become a habit.)  I'll really try to do better the next time if he'll give me another chance.  [Gag.]

I lost my rowboat [for some reason we couldn't use the word "relationship" so we said "rowboat" instead].  It's gone off radar.  I don't know where it's going or why I would even be in a rowboat.  But I must say I'm thoroughly enthralled in what there is of this rowboat.  It's pretty damn interesting I think.  (I'm having trouble getting other people to think so.)

I honestly can't figure out how Doug and April have gone out for four months.  Whenever I'm around them they hardly speak.  But I can't say because I don't know too much about it.  April doesn't really talk about it and I've never asked.  She always seems to not really want to be around him (in school, anyway).

Sunday, September 20, 1992.  I'm terribly perplexed.  I guess I'll call Dave tonight.  We never finished our conversation from Friday night.  Things are getting pretty furry now.  I'm seriously considering forgetting about any thoughts I ever had about being more than friends.  I really don't know if it would be worth it.  But what am I going to tell him?  He won't tell me what he thinks and I don't know if he wants to be more than friends but he'll tell me things like that he really likes me (twice) and the kiss thing and then it's like he didn't mean it.  I don't know if he does or not.  And he's told Dave #2 that I wanted him to ask me out!  He's so ignorant.  I don't know what made him say that and I don't know why it bothers me so much.  And I also can't figure out why I like him so much.  I really can't understand it when he's such a butthead (great choice of words) sometimes.  That's what he wants to know and I can't seem to explain to him that I don't know so how can I tell him.

I wrote down everything I wrote there in a letter to him.  [I don't doubt it.]  I haven't got his reaction yet.  I don't know what to expect.

But I had a really good day - afternoon anyway.  Well, really just 5th and 6th periods.  But it's not important.

Have I mentioned that I had a perm at this period in time?  A curly perm.  My nephew once told me it made me look like Sammy Hagar.  And I would wear tights with cut-off shorts and my dad's work shirts.  Hot mess.
Next time I begin obsessing about Thanksgiving (it's still September), continue obsessing about "Dave," and give my opinion on "A Perfect Day for Bananafish" and the movie Singles.  Look out!  

New Year, Old Me: If you gaze long into an abyss, the abyss will gaze back into you.

Fall of 1992.  I was in tenth grade, 15 years old and extremely redundant.  These first entries will be from a journal I had to keep as an assignment for class.  It's crazy embarrassing but I'm going to type it out for you as is, only changing certain names to protect... yeah.  I'm just going to change the names.  Anything in parentheses ( ) was originally written that way.  Any additions in the present will be shown in brackets [ ] and italicized.  I'm startled by how much I haven't changed, the major exception being that I'm less corny.  I think.  This journal eventually devolves into one-sided conversation with "Dave," my "boyfriend" at the time.  God.  Have fun out there, kids.   

9/2/1992 [Note that what follows spans multiple days, I just didn't write down the date each time I began writing again.] 
This is when I have the most trouble writing, when I'm told I have to.  I can write pages and pages depending on my mood and my best stuff comes out when I'm depressed.  Most people write their best when they're depressed (I'm a poet and I know it!).  Madonna says she does.  (Little Madonna references are good for your soul.)  My 12 year old nephew loves her so much.  So do I but I don't think I like her as much as he does.  Her face is plastered all over his bedroom walls.  I'm a Red Hot Chili Peppers fan myself.  I think they're great.  However arranged.  Be it Anthony, Flea, Jack and Hillel (now deceased) or Anthony, Flea, John and Chad or Anthony, Flea, Chad and Eric (pronounced ah-reek).

You want 4 pages a week of this stuff!  Ugh!

Well Dave spoke to me today and I spoke to the other Dave about the first Dave and the first Dave about the second Dave.  It's a very complicated subject.  I don't know if I should be telling you this, but you said you don't read it anyway, but I love the first Dave.  I think I do anyway.  I don't know if he knows, I don't think he does.  He [*scribbled out* then the word "before"] but I don't know.  That was way back at the end of July when we last spoke (well, wrote).  I feel ill and giddy.  I love the word giddy.  So I must really love him.  The horror!

[Sometime later]
I don't know about that.  Dave came to our little family shin-dig Monday.  I like him, but I think it's more of a friendly thing.  I think.  I want to find out what it is but I'll have to ask him somehow, some way.  He always mentions his "girlfriend" and it's starting to bug me now.  It didn't at first but...  That must prove I like him.  I think the fact that I'm saying all this is because I don't want to like him(?).

Ugh!  I don't know.  We'll talk on the phone for hours sometimes but not much ever comes of it.  So I'm going to write him in study hall and I'll have to call him tonight.  It's safer to talk about things like this instead of writing it because someone could get their grubby paws on it and that could be potentially devastating.  (That was a little melo-dramatic but that's what I'm best at.)  [This is like, foreshadowing.  Not that I knew it then.]

I hate school.  I hate the thought of school.  It's more the thought than actual school.  Actual school I like for the most part.  But I think it's bogus to be a teenager.  A teenager the way most are.  I'm nothing like a typical teenager.  I think a lot of that stems from not being a people person.  (I just realized how moronic this is going to when I read this at a later date.)  [Yup.]  I'm not into all the socializing and gossiping.  It's boring.  I want to do more, other things.  I just don't know what that is.  How come nobody talks about the important stuff in life?  How come I don't talk about the important stuff in life?

Back to Dave.  He gets on my nerves so bad but I guess he's just being normal.  I'm such a problem thing.  He gets mad at me because I don't answer his questions to his standards.  But I can't help that.  That's how I've always been.  Communication of the verbal kind was never really part of my family.  We're such dysfunctional things.  I come from a long line of dysfunctional things.  It's part of being a child of an alcoholic I guess.  You never let anybody get close to you, you can't tell people your real feelings and your life just ends up being nothing but a bunch of disappointments and empty relationships.  It's horrible but I don't know what to do about it.  That's part of it, too.  Not being able to do anything about it.  You want to but you just feel like you can't.

And I really like Dave but I know I'm going to ruin it if I haven't already.  This has been going on for almost a year, too.  Months, anyway.

My sister's going to tape the MTV awards for me.  I'm so excited but I won't see it till after everyone else.  And the Chili's are going to be there!  Performing live!!!  And I won't even see it till this weekend I'm sure, ugh!

I have more stupid crisises [sic] than I should.  Actually if I didn't have what I did I'd be in a coma.  I can hardly say I have a life.  But I like what I do have which I don't think anybody could understand but I'm really happy the way things are.  I'd like [*words scribbled out*] and get away from my mother but otherwise I'm happy.  Except when people like Dave try to find out about me.

I've got to make a phone call but I'm afraid he won't talk to me anyway.  He said he was never going to call me again.  I don't know if that means he won't talk to me if I call him or if that's what he wants, me to call him?  Why do I torture myself?  He's so abusive.  Really.  I should realize that and forget about him.  Abusive as in saying he's not going to call me and telling me he hates me when he doesn't just to get me to say things.  [What the fuck?]  He's got a self-image problem.  Poor boy, and you can't help but feel sorry for him and despise him at the same time.  He's just as difficult as I am.  I must be obsessed or otherwise why would it concern me so much?  I know he probably thinks I don't care about him.  But he makes it so difficult sometimes.

Great, now he's not home.  You always know after the third ring that nobody's home.  Ugh!  I need to talk to him.

My father's here.  I hate him.  He's just looking for his check but it's not here and he'll probably be harassing my mom for a place to stay.  She won't (pretty sure) but if she ever did I wouldn't stay with her.  I don't want to go into that now.

I wish I knew what happened to Sarah.  It's like she just disappeared off the face of the earth.  And I don't know if I should try to write to her again, I'll wait a few more days before I write again.

Now I'm mad!  He hung up on me before I got a chance to hang up on him.  It's not fair!  I never get to hang up on him.  Ugh!

More news of this subject.  Last night we talked on the phone till 12:30am.  About stuff.  I learned a lot of interesting things.  I don't know about him but I think I like him.  There's something I haven't said before.  [This appears to be sarcasm, I think?]  But I'm afraid we'll fall right back into doing things just like before.  We fight with each other and then late at night he tells all kinds of things, good things, that I want him to say.  (This music is terrible!)  [My teacher would play new-agey music while we were supposed to be writing in class.  I mention it a number of times.]  I just hope I'm telling him things he wants to hear.  But I don't think I am.  And I lied to him.  I wish I hadn't have but I did and I feel awful but it's not something I'm going to go back and tell the truth about.  I couldn't now.  It's not even that important.  [Clearly, since I have no idea what it could have been that I would have to lie about.]  But he's so sweet sometimes.  Sometimes.  Not as often as I wish he would be.

I did finally break down and tell him all the bad things about him.  The bad things he does to me anyway.  Which I previously wrote.  And he apologized profusely for being mean to me.  He blamed alcohol.  Which worries me.  [♪ If you could see me now...♪]  I wish he didn't drink like he does or says he does.  [*Words scribbled out* Upon closer inspection I can see that it says "and I wish that he didn't smoke.]  Another somehow related to my Pa.

He always wants me to ask him questions.  Questions I don't know to ask.  He can talk forever but that's my problem.  I can't.  And a lot of times he does most the talking.  That probably doesn't bother him but it worries me.

So, that's enough for now.  I'm disturbed by the number of times I wrote "Ugh!" like it was a thing I should write.  I'm fascinated by the way I switch from topic to topic but always return to talking about "Dave."  I'll try editing some of it down next time since, like I said at the beginning, it is very redundant.  Hearts!