Rainy Day

            Felt sick to my stomach again. I already went to the bathroom, so it can’t be that. I wanted to scream, vomit, and even run away from here. I hated distance. I was listening to my playlist called Rainy Day. If I had a camera or was good enough with animation, I’d describe how I felt easier than with just words. Flashbacks with the burned screen effect. Slow motion with sad, dark, and numbing music in the background. How can I be so lost? I have three papers I need to type, but instead I’m typing how I feel about him. I do care about you. I felt mad. I do love you. I felt hurt. And I’m learning to trust you from far away. I felt sad. When you feel this low in life, it’s not hard to see everything in a different light. Something that once made me happy could easily be wiped out with something gut wrenching. You felt like you just wanted to run, forever. No destination, just an escape, a place to distract again. A way for me to forget how you hurt me with your words.

Talking about London

I talked with Ericka about London and it was fascinating. “We should sit next to each other on the plane.” She said. We talked about traveling around London. She talked about how she was keeping a journal and writing things down before London, during, and after the trip. I told her my idea about buying cheap disposable cameras and bringing them along. I might buy 10, but that seems like a lot. Who knows, if I have some left over that’s not a bad thing, right? “Maybe when we get there and we’re settled in we could go to the Cereal Killer.” She said. The Cereal Killer is a place with a bunch of cereals to choose from. “Yes! I am very good at navigating. I’ve been to London before, but that was about 9 years ago.” I said. After we chatted, and I finished my salad, we parted ways. It’s the start of Fall Break. I’ll be all alone. No one on my floor are here, except my roommate. I will have long days of listening to London Grammar and knitting, probably. My boyfriend on the other hand… well, I’m not so sure. Maybe I shouldn’t talk to him unless he texts, calls, or Skype with me. I give up on trying to communicate with him. I shouldn’t do it, but I want him to know what it’s like in my shoes for once. Having to wait for the person you love the most and then when you start to talk, you’re just distracted. It isn’t fun. I’ve been waiting a lot my whole life, and people are always distracted when interacting with me, but that’s fine. I’ll do something else in its place. I’ve learned how to be patient when I want the other person to feel it. Waiting.

This is getting old...

Yesterday I tried to tell him something in the news that’s important and he made a rape joke. I feel sometimes that his best friend is a bad influence. No, that’s not right. He just instigates things. I hate when his best friend does that. When we’re on Skype, trying to talk, he’s always playing video games. Yes, I get it. You work very hard, and when you get home you want to unwind. What does that say about me? Am I part of the work? You seem to categorize me into that when you say that you play to relax. I’m sorry that I’m not an “unwinding” thing/material. What do you consider unwinding? For me it used to be watching shows, movies, going on tumblr, or playing an intense game. Now those things don’t feel the same. He’s either playing video games by himself or he has his best friend over. I Skype you to talk to you! I yell in my head, but nonetheless, he wouldn’t notice if I did scream out loud. I want to live with you forever. I want to marry you someday. What if we don’t get that far?  I know that I have to put up with him, but sometimes it’s just stupid things. Every time I bring one up, we argue. That’s why I grin and bear it. *sigh* This is getting old. I don’t want this to last forever. I just want your attention for maybe a few minutes. Is that too hard to ask for?  I guess it is.