| This is Why |
I feel drawn to the keyboard. If I don't write things down, I forget them. Maybe it's just natural to forget bad things, or maybe it's because I have a shitty memory (as my mock results would suggest) but I don't want to forget this feeling of complete desperation. Because I know I shouldn't be feeling like this and it makes me guilty that I am.
Warning: very teenagery-angst rant coming up. Life was getting better. I was living with Sarah, doing ok at school, getting on with my friends and actually looking forward to being in Mme Dupont's musical production. Even though I was just one of the dancers, rather than singing. On stage. The kind that's in front of people. But then came my birthday. And everything got so screwed up and... bleurgh. According to new guidance counsellor guy (I can't remember his name... it's something Clive-y? Devon? Something like) who I had my first session with today, I need to write down all my issues (a word I overuse to the EXTREME, I admit) so they're out of my system. Leigh still finds it fun to go through my stuff in the hope to find soemthing blackmailable so... my beloved diary. Which I've ignored for 53 days. Anyway... Sarah and Dad decided they wanted to live together. And what could I have said? No Sarah, you can't live with and be a family with the man you love because his crazy daughter wants to share your house rather than his? So. Big new house. That is completely white, on a council estate surrounded by people I don't know, and not within walking distnce of a bus stop so I get to take the taxi every morning with Leigh. I could cope with the whole Dad thing if was normal or even if he just went back to the way he was- but he's trying to win Dad of the Year or something and it's exhausting. Because then when I did crap up all my mocks I get endless lectures about not caring about my life, not knowing what I'm going to do, having no motivation, dedication, any other -ation. He doesn't stop stressing about the reason I crapped up either. Mostly the whole skiving school thing. But if he knew. Everybody here talks about me like all the time. Because of all the shit that happened and general jealousy or whatever because apparently I'm going out with John. Yeah. It was the New Years' Eve after my sixteenth birthday and I was stopping over at Charly's, where Nate threw a surprise party with his friends as well as Charly's, such as John. And it was just a perfect night. Kind of. I talked and danced and laughed, a lot, and most of it with the infamous John. And then just before midnight John went off to get party poppers or whatever with Nate from Nate's room. I don't know, but then I was just talking to Jay and he brought up the oh-so-wonderful subject of first kisses. And I did the whole sweet-sixteen rant and then it was midnight and he just leans over and kisses me! And I pull back, John's staring at me and then he leaves. And Jay decides we're going out. So I blew things with John, and now I have a boyfriend who claims to be in love with me, who... I'm a total bitch but I don't even like like him. He's a friend. So yeah, I avoid him, and the school that whispers about me and John so much it's untrue and overly US high schooly. And that is how my life sucks. |
