Welcome.

There is no fresh start. Your past is a part of you; it makes you who you are. 

Dreams and aspirations, where have you gone? 

Every time she thought of him, her face would light up and her face filled with this glow I could not explain. She talked about him as if it were a book she was passionate about. He was not an open book but she opened him up little by little. Sometimes, he would tell her of his past and it felt like he ripped a page out of his book to give to her. It wasn’t pretty in the literal sense but to her, it was beautiful. It was a part of him. When she discovered more and more things about him, it felt like she was curling up with her favourite book on an orange afternoon in her bedroom. It was a spontaneous feeling that she had in her; like she discovered more and more of the world as she stepped into the waters. He didn’t always give her details because really, who could figure you out in one day? But when she did, she smiled or cried along because she could feel what he felt. Or a sense of it, really. He always told her it was okay and that it happened before but she couldn’t help but to shed a tear or two…or a bucket of them. You can tell that she loved him with all her might, all her soul even. 

Do you think a simple sorry with a little cherry on top and a goodnight is good enough for me? I’m not that stupid to be lured in your trap again. You screwed me over by not even talking to me after and your excuse is that you thought that I didn’t like talking to you. Then why did I try to talk to you? Hm? Tell me that. Why did I put effort into trying to talk to you but you didn’t even seem interested? If you were so bloody sad about it then why didn’t you text me at least once? And not for my homework or my chemistry labs. All you know is how to take but not give. All I know how to do is give but nothing good is given to me in return. It feels like I got the cheap end of the bargain every time this bullshit happens.

Screw you. Don’t talk to me. Don’t look at me. Don’t breathe my air. Delete me from your social networking sites. Delete my number. Don’t even think about me or I’ll be tempted to knock you out. 

I dreamed of my prince. I didn’t dream of his appearance but I did dream of doing things that girls do in movies. I dreamed of picking apart flowers upon flowers saying, “He loves me. He loves me not”. I would dream of going on dinner dates. He would pull out my chair and my cheeks would flush crimson. He would hold my hand over the table. We would laugh and eat and enjoy ourselves. I would dream of movie dates where he yawned and slyly put his arm over my shoulder. I would scooch in when the scary parts would come up and pretend to be afraid. He would drop me off my house and walk me to my door. I would get a goodnight kiss and walk in my house dreamily with that “in love” look. I would lie on my bed while writing in my diary and hug it tightly, reminiscing over the night’s events. I would dream of being asked to prom in a cute way and sigh happily as I tell me friends about it. I dream of marrying someone someday. I would come down the aisle as he would tear up from looking at me because I looked so beautiful. My ballgown dress and my long veil would be dragging on the floor but in that elegant way. Rose petals would fall on the floor because of the beautiful flower girl I would choose. We would have that kiss and be announced man and woman. I would dream of my prince and hope that he would come but I haven’t come across many people that would be a prince.

I’ve just dated peasants and fools. I’ve dated people who have made a mockery of me. They haven’t looked at me since and I have myself to blame for it. I shouldn’t stick with people who don’t even value me or treat me properly. I just go for the people who like me but want something out of our “relationship”. All these people want to do is steal a part of your soul and walk out of your life forever. 

On nights like these, I am alone with my thoughts. My bad thoughts and my good thoughts but mostly the bad. Usually, I would listen to music or watch Youtube or a movie. But today, I listen to the rain. The rain lulls me to sleep so I enjoy it very much. I have trouble sleeping because I think of what will happen tomorrow or what happened in the past. I see the lightning and my heart races when I see it coming every now and then. It’s beautiful, really. I do that “one Mississippi, two Mississippi, three Mississippi” game with myself to know how far away it is. The lightning is now 11 Mississippi away. There is also thunder but I am not scared because I am inside. I have always liked how cool it is when it rains. You feel so relaxed especially after a hot day like today.

I remember when it rained in Vietnam. The roof was not as “dense” as ours and it was very thin so we heard the rain even more. It was beautiful, though. Usually, in Vietnam, it is 30-34 degrees Celsius everyday so having this weather is really nice and refreshing. We would sleep because the pattering of the rain on top of the roof and the cool feeling from the lower temperature was so relaxing. 

You are so socially inept. 

I was at church yesterday and I kept on looking over to my right because I wanted to say something but I couldn’t. There was a man with two daughters sitting next to him. I noticed a baby carrier with a boy in it and he was just there. On the floor. ON THE FLOOR! I couldn’t believe my eyes. Throughout the whole hour, the boy was not glanced at or taken care of. A couple of times, he murmured and tried to get out but the father did not ONCE look on the floor at his child. I can’t believe it. I just can’t. I would love to take that baby home and take care of him like he was my own. I don’t understand how some people cannot be a parent. They just can’t. I don’t know what goes on in that family but I suspect child abuse or something because of the way this child was neglected. I wanted to go up to the father and say, “You’re not a parent. Even an animal would take care of their child better than you do! Don’t leave your kid on the floor to be kicked around when people go up to take the Eucharist”. But alas, I am only a teenager and yelling at an adult is wrong even if it is so right. I really hate that guy.