I'm not impossible, he just wasn't ready.
I'm not useless, he just didn't find what makes me gold.
I'm not weak, just temporarily broken.
I'm not ugly, he was just to pretentious.
I'm not missing out because he is.
I'm not callous, he just took my heart for a little while.
I'm not bitter, just lost and confused.
I'm not too loving, he just couldn't accept it.
I'm not emotional, he just had a lack of it.
I'm not too passionate, he just got scared.
I'm not intense, I just feel a lot.

I will not let this paralyze me, and I will never let him win.
I won't crawl back after he's beat me away.
I will try with every fiber to never want him again.
I will understand there is more to life, and there is a man
that will love me for my flaws, perfections, and emotions.
No one deserves anything less, not even me.

I awoke this morning, with a sense of peace and hope. I wasn't afraid of anything and I didn't feel like hiding away. I will set out to accomplish everything I feared about this weekend. I will work on myself, and I will succeed.

I hate that I get so ridiculously depressed before my period, and I hate that it interferes with my life. I hate being victim to it, and I hate that it acts as a gravitational pull from anything outside my comfort zone. I hate that i'm afraid of so many things, and that I lack the courage to even try conquering these fears. I hate that I love to easily and that I never seem to be able to just be happy and go with the flow. I hate that I'm difficult and sensitive. I hate that I require attention and love in return. I hate that I can never accept things as they are, and that there always must be something wrong. I hate my low self-esteem. I hate that I can't love myself. I hate that I seem selfish. I hate that I make mistakes, I hate my grades. I hate my body, and I wish I could learn to love it. I hate my lack of will power and strength. I hate that I can't help more people. I hate that I take things to personally, and I'm always thinking. I hate that i'm a pessimist and I only get short spurts of positivity. I hate the empty feeling I get when he isn't focusing all his attention on me, I hate that that bothers me. I hate how I can never believe anything nice he says to me. I hate how I'm crying as I type this. I hate that I'm stuck 20 minutes from my friends and social life and that I don't have the freedom I once did. I hate that I'm being selfish about the new house and location. I hate that my parents believe i'm me-oriented, even if it's true. I hate that any help my parents can offer to me, only make me hate myself further. I hate how this illness, or whatever it is - holds me prisoner. Most of all, I hate how much I hate about myself.

I want to be a Robot In Disguise. That's right folks, a disguised robot.

Well the week is finito and i'm ridiculously over-joyed about it. I don't feel like blogging a novel here so.. yeah.

ps. Casey is love.

A shitstorm of homework has hit me in the face, and I'm refraining from doing it. I know it's terrible, but I'm just to busy listening to this random KKK radio station. Foul? Yes - but it's still terribly funny how close-minded this fool is.

Mr. Davis.. is a jewbag. He assigns a wealth of assignments within a small amount of time, gives little indication of what is expected and refuses to acknowledge that we need sleep. My grades are nowhere near I want them to be, and I STILL have no personal time. I can't even concentrate right now - I'm to concerned with my workload and lack of understanding of the assignment. I would just love to put him through a semester of highschool in it's current state. I can't possibly believe that highschool was this intense when he went to school. They had time to hang out with friends after school.. I don't even have time to sit down and eat dinner half the time. 

I feel really sick right now. It's like - there's a mixture of alien diseases in my stomach right now. I think it could have something to do with the 36 hours stuck at the rink within 3 days, the amazing roast beef dinner I had last night, and the equally amazing turkey dinner + the two slices of the really good graham cracker/chocolate/whipped cream/peanut butter cake gramma made. Regardless, I think my tummy may as well have it's own Al Quada unit somewhere in there.

Moving on.

Things in my head have seemed to re-order themselves. I'm mostly stable and I'm back to my normal hillarious self. This break-up thing is starting to pass. I'm in the mind-set of: look what he's missing. Which to me, seems like a good thing. It's easy on my emotions and when it goes away, this mess will have been completely put behind me. Everyone deserves someone/something that makes them happy, and he just wasn't it.

Now that I'm a single fish, my eyes have definitely taken to the bigger fish. At a ringette tournament... one wouldn't expect to find men - well attractive ones anyway. However, the officials there (while most were female or older men) were quite 'fit'. If only my officiating career had been a few years more - I'd be on that. OH! I'd be on that.

So this is day 5 (?) of my interpersonal warfare experience. It can't be pms. That has been controlled with the meds. Pms for me - after medication - lasts only around 2 days, and I can fight it fairly well. Right now.. I'm losing it. My moods are excruciatingly unstable, and I can't think straight. I feel angsty and I want to fight someone... physically. Then I'll feel vulnerable and I beat myself up psychologically.

Something is wrong.

I find myself rather bi-polar lately. It's been nearly two weeks since Justin and I have broken up, and I've stumbled across another. Is that suppose to be a good thing? I barely know this boy, but he seems promising. And yet - I can't sway my thoughts from Justin. He broke it off, I'm the victim, he said the hurtful things the following day, freeing me from my victim status. I don't want to subject myself to someone that doesn't love me equally, but I don't want to lose something that had the potential to be great.

A new opportunity arises, and fearful I hold back. Why couldn't he just love me the first time.. why couldn't we get it right? He wasn't drop-dead gorgeous. He wasn't funny. He wasn't anything like me, but I felt something. Casey's my twin and competely and utterly adorable, but I lack the confidence to win him. He moves in a step, and I take 2 back.

I will try to plant my feet firmly on the ground. And I will win this internal battle. I will.

So.. a good friend of mine through some of this stuff in my lap, and I gotta say - it's beautiful. Not what you want to be listening to when you're in a sad mood, but it's just breath-taking. Minimalistic, calming, and over-whelmingly brilliant... from Iceland Sigur Rós is just great.