Note to self: A letter to my rebelious stage

Dear Me,

Do you remember that rule? The one that said to never date anyone with hair longer than yours? Let me tell you now it is a good rule to follow, and the boy you break it for isn't worth your broken heart. The boy before him isn't either and don't get me started on the boy before them. And let me tell you, anyone who cheats on you isn't worth your tears. But when he makes out with your best friend it is worth being angry.

Be angry with him, and be angry with her, but forgive. Forgive them for your love, and forgive them for your hate, and forgive them for not noticing either. And forgive your mother.

I know you think that hating her is justified, think she doesn't care because she got sick and left you, but she didn't. She got sick and you left her. And you broke her heart just like she broke yours. So forgive her when she says those things and forgive her when she can't. Forgive her, and forgive the doctors and please, for both our sakes, forgive yourself.

You may not think that matters either but trust me. It is going to break you and you are never going to be the same, so don't go down that road. Forgive yourslef and move on.

Love,
Me.

P.S. Go eat something. You look the same when you weigh 90 pounds as you do when you weigh 130 and that will just make you bitter when you finally get healthy so stop being stupid and eat your lunch.

Things I am Missing: A List of 10 Things I Wish I Still Had

1. The spray painted walls of my old bedroom.
2. The friendship of someone whose birthday I forgot last week.
3. A first period to skip.
4. The bottom half of my right lung.
5. My gaul bladder.
6. The chance to tell the good sir how important his feedback was.
7. Being able to see the ocean for the first time.
8. A car that could drive to the ocean at any minute.
9. My favorite atheist.
10. The innocence of not knowing what it feels like to miss a part of yourself.

 “Anyway, it doesn't matter how much, how often, or how closely you keep an eye on things because you can't control it. Sometimes things and people just go. Just like that.”  - Cecelia Ahern

I want to be what you want

I didn't expect him to be what he was. He showed up as quickly as a summer rain storm and soaked every inch of my life in his love. And now trying to forget that I love him seems as pointless as trying to pour the rain back into the clouds once it starts falling down. My kisses are pulled towards him like lightning, attracted to him as he stands there, tall and alone in the middle of his world and every time we touch it is thunder in my ears.

But I have spent so much time writing about him that I think I forgot, he isn't a metaphor.

He isn't a metaphor or a simile, a hyperbole or a cliche. He isn't a diagram or a chart or an outline. And he sure as hell isn't a pretty poem that I can write and be done with.

He isn't the thunder or the rain, he is a boy who, despite everything, I love.

He is a boy who says I know him better than anyone alive, who is my longest standing friendship (if you discount the girl who barely knows me any more), and I can't ever see him again.

A few months ago, I said I couldn't imagine life with out him and now here I am, having broken more hearts than I thought I would when I started. I didn't think he would break my heart, but every word he said about long term, and more, and love, broke my hear into smaller and smaller pieces because I knew I couldn't give that to him no matter how badly I wanted.

I couldn't be the girl he needs me to be for him, and so I wanted him to not want me. I tried telling him how all I wanted was for him to give me what I wanted for six months and then pretend it never happened and let me marry someone else.I told him he should just be okay with me using him, because I was selfish and that was all I could give him. I said over and over,

I can't be what you want.

I can't be what you want.

I can't be what you want.

I can't be what you want.

I can't be what you want.

I can't be what you want.

I can't be what you want.

I can't be what you want.

I can't be what you want.

I can't be what you want.

I can't be what you want.

I can't be what you want.

I told him and told him, not sure if I wanted him to be what I wanted or if I just wanted him to hate me as much as I hated myself for it. It would make it so much easier to leave, knowing I wasn't coming back if I could just make him hate me.

It wasn't working though, he was so damn determined to keep loving me, until he wasn't. 

I won't be what you want.

And he finally believed me, finally gave up and accepted that I was no good for him. And I realized no matter how bad I was for him, I wanted to be everything he wanted me to be.  It was too late though, he realized I was right and pulled his hand out of mine and I think he knew when we said goodbye we weren't going to see each other again. And I don't think I have ever felt lonelier than I did in the second he pulled his hand away.

He pulled away and took the boy I love and he took all the rain, thunder, lightning, all the cliche and metaphor, all the cute rhymes and half finished lyrics, and left me to realized that he was all of that and more that I never even realized. And I am just a silly girl who can only write after midnight when I realize that him leaving was why I have those stupid nightmares and I can't ever be what he wanted.

Annie

Dear Nelson,

So many blogs this week said it was the end of Dick, it was the end of Phyllis, the end of Gene but this isn't the end of Annie because that is who I am. When this all started you told us to make up a name and to write as someone else but I didn't.

I wrote with my name, and I might regret it.

Now the summer is over though, and everyone else is moving on. moving out. their real name is out there and they are done playing with this pretend. and I am stuck.

Tomorrow life changes for everyone else. My dad starts his new job, the babies go to school, and even my older sister and her husband are starting a new semester at UVU. Even you are starting over with a new class of creative writing students. Not me though.

Tomorrow I am going to wake up at 5:48 and get in the car to drive to work with out brushing my teeth, just like I have every other day since I graduated. I am not moving out, I am not moving on, I am staying.

The world is moving and shifting around me like it thinks I am its axis and I don't know how to stop it or where I will go next.

So for now, I will stay where I have always been. I will sit here and be Annie, and no one will notice, and Nelson, I want you to know a few things before you go.

I want you to know that you play favorites, and I wanted to be one of them so f-ing bad but I wasn't and I would hate you for that if I didn't think you were so great.

And I want you o know that T.S. Wilde is my best friend and we fought a lot this year, and really it wasn't her fault, I was just jealous of her writing.

And I want you to know, she is jealous of mine too, but I didn't know that until a few weeks ago.

And I want you to know, I finished writing a novel. You are the first person I have told because I am not sure it is good enough, and I want you to know that I dedicated it to you even though I promised a lot of people it would be their name on that first page if I ever got published.

I want you to know that "To Nelson, thanks for helping me find Paris" is going to be written in little black letters on that first page. And I really mean it because I was stuck on chapter 18 for almost a year and then you read a poem on our first day of class and I went home and wrote for the first time in months.

I don't know why I want you to know all of that, but I do. and if you read this you will know but I am not sure you will. Either way, thanks.

Annie.

Dear God, I just want to remember

I wrote it on my hand last night,
praying, please lord, let me remember
Then I washed it away with my tears before the sun came up again,
and now I am not sure what it was.

I remember that it sounded like music and the truth and
 that it made me feel better,
and I remember that I want it more than anything else.

But those lines I drew with ink across the lines God drew with his hand,
they didn't last,
even though I thought they were indistructable.

And every week he writes me, and says,
"dear daughter,
you shouldn't have tried to keep that much happiness to yourself."

And I remember that God made me forget that he loves me too,
and hope that maybe,
when I die I can remember them both saying it.

Even The End Of The World Has A Silver Lining

Don't forget, the flowers in the hospital are beautiful and the sun is still behind those clouds, darling.

Dear Michael Aaron Benjamin Hunter

Don't sass me boy, I know Ben isn't really your name. I think maybe it was more of who you really were all along though, so get over it.

I hate you today. And I mean I really hate you, like I hate my mother.

I hate you because I can't remember your birthday even though I know it is in September and I know that last year I made you a cake and ate it by myself, wishing you were sitting next to me. And I hate you because I hate Skype and the fact that it opens every time I start up my computer, and I hate you because I would just uninstall it if it weren't for you.

I hate you because you never really wanted to run away to Niagara Falls, and because you were serious when you offered last November.

I hate you because you always knew more about Star Trek than I did and because you were on my side when it came to Pluto. And I hate you because I did not give a shit if Pluto was a planet or not before you but Heather and I still fight about it some times. I hate you because I was still friends with Ben a month ago and now I am not. I didn't delete him, so I know you did it.


I hate you because I was sitting in the dark last night trying to think of the last time I ate a full meal, and I don't think it was in the last week. I hate you because you promised you wouldn't let me get bad again and I hate you because you told me you weren't good at keeping promises.

I hate you because I get excited every time I see the stars.

I hate you because you were always better at plotting revenge and thunder is God playing drums and yelling is only good if you are yelling about love. I hate you for all of that.

I hate you for everything tonight. For fireworks, and parades, and puppies, and I hate you for loving my writing most of all because I still don't think I am as good at it as I was when you were around.

And I hate you because you will never know how much loving you made me hate you.

Sincerly,
The girl with the red hair.
P.S. I hate you for that too.

Hell Yes I Am A Mormon Girl

He told me he wouldn't read my blog simply because I was "too good of a Mormon girl to know anything about real life, and you need to, to be a good writer".

I am a Mormon girl. I might even go as far as to say I am a good Mormon girl.

I am a Mormon girl who just spent the last week going home from work to feed my sisters before heading to the hospital to spend the night with my mother who is recovering from her 58th surgery in the last 12 years and can't be alone while my father works.

I am a Mormon girl who has been supporting a family of six while going to school for the last year because my dad decided he needed to follow his dreams and those dreams left him flat on his face with four kids and a wife and when faced with giving up or asking for help he trusted me enough to help him get through.

I am a Mormon girl who sat down stairs and got drunk for the first time ever with a stranger, not knowing that my friend was being raped in the other room. I am a Mormon girl who went to the pharmacy the next morning and bought a day after pill and kept a secret because she told me that it was her idea.

I am a good Mormon girl who spent most of my freshman year sick in bed because I was slowly starving myself trying to be good enough for parents who didn't notice until I weighed 86 pounds and realized I had a problem and told them I needed help.

And I am a Mormon girl who still managed to get healthy again even after my mother decided that she was going to stop me from getting there.

I am a Mormon girl who was dumb enough to think a boy loved me even after he hit me and who was naive enough to believe a boy when he told me I was the only girl in his life. And I am a good Mormon girl who still believes in love with all of my heart because I found it in the boy next door.

I am a Mormon girl who quit counting the days my mom spent in the hospital when it was more than enough to add up to a few years and can tell you all the pros and cons of any hospital in northern Utah.

So yes, I am a Mormon girl. But don't you dare try and tell me I don't know about real life because of it. I know all about real life, good and bad, and that is why I am a Mormon girl.

I don't want to lose him but it isn't fair to keep him

I once heard that if you find yourself in love with two people at once always chose the second, because if you really loved the first you wouldn't have found the other. The only problem is that I don't know who came first and it wouldn't matter anyway.


I already gave my whole heart away, put it in a box with a bow on it and sent it to him to keep while we are apart and I don't want to spend my life with out him by my side, so how did I end up in someone else's arms not able to pull myself away?

I don't want to fall asleep because I don't know if my dreams will bring me the dark hair and eyes I miss so much showing me how to make everything better or blond haired blue eyed beauty begging me to help him find a way past all his demons and it scares me that I don't know which I am hoping for.

I don't know how it happened because they are opposites in every way but I have found myself in love with the both of them and it kills me that I know I am going to break one heart and even as I tell him I love him, I know which heart it is going to be and I don't want to do it.

I'm ready now

He asked me to write something real and I stared at the cursor blinking for longer than my eyes wanted to focus wondering because I have lied to so many people and told so many people the truth only to have it turn into something terrible that I wasn't sure what to say.

But I realised something tonight. I realised that all those people who I thought were the beginning and end of my world don't matter.

I realised that I have one follower and she doesn't know that we knew each other in real life before I moved and we weren't friends any more when we had a class together this year and I realised that when I said, "see you never" at graduation, I meant it.

I realised that the boy with all of that thick dark hair and deep blue eyes, the one who said all those pretty things to make me stay would miss all our shared history and only see a pretty girl to whistle at when we passed each other in the park and the girl who I hated so much never really liked me either so it is okay.

I realised that I'm going to get married and my mother won't always have the chance to throw me down every day and I won't marry the boy who told me I deserve better but I'll love him forever anyway because he is a great person and deserves better than me.

I realised that the boys who never looked twice and the boys I wish would have left me alone before making me think I loved them and the boys I never gave a chance to are in the past now. And those girls who I hated instantly because they were prettier and the girl who was my best friend all though jr. high and the girls who were my friends in high school even if we never hung out are in the past with them.

I realised not a single one of you matters enough to change what is real. And I realised that all of you mattered so much that you are what made everything real in the first place. You are the reason I am who I am and you are the reason I know what I know.

None of you are ever going to see it but I picked up the pieces of yourself that you dropped on my doorstep as you were leaving and put them all together trying to make a story that I could call mine and they are what make every real part of me. So see you never. and thanks for the parting gifts.

I can't remember

I can't remember your phone number or how many times I called you in the middle of the night. I can't remember how many tears your shirt soaked up or how many times you told me it would all end up okay but I do remember thinking how lucky I was to have you there for me anytime I needed you.

I can't remember how many hours we spent in your car or how many days I watched you working in your garage. I can't remember any of the things you tried to explain to me or what most of those parts were called but I do remember falling in love with you and your passion.

I remember how beautiful you make me feel, even if I can't remember how many times you told me or all of the times you said you wanted me.

I can’t remember the names of all the girls who came before me but I remember hearing about them and laughing that they missed out on you. I remember thinking all of them were idiots and wondering why you ever thought they were worth your time. I also remember realizing that was the first time I was ever jealous.

I can’t remember exactly why I thought I could ever live without you, or how I ever wanted you to leave. I can’t remember why I cared what other people were thinking and saying about us and I don’t even remember what they were saying anymore. But I do remember the day I decided that I wanted you for eternity.
I can’t remember a lot of the details of how it happened, but I remember that I love you.

Notes to the boys

 Good Sir,
I hope I rot in hell because you seemed to always think that was where you were going, and eternity would be awfully boring with out you my dear.
-To be continued. . .


To my favorite atheist:
I really can't imagine breaking enough hearts to hold you for longer than a few seconds but I can't imagine life without your arms around me. I know I made us awkward but please don't let us change. -Love, Joy, Hitler.

Dear Elder,
I hope you never have to know that I kissed him. Or that I lied about not liking you before you liked me. And I hope you always think I am pretty, even when I cry, because it is the only reason I still like myself.
-Yours forever.


"Tell Me Again":
I thought maybe things would be different, that you really would care about me if I tried to help you. I know you aren't going to ever change now though, and still I can't bring myself to hate you enough to do what I should.
-Sincerely, "I love you, I'm sorry."

For the bad boy,
Thanks for playing the question game with me. I'm glad you cut your hair, you look much more presentable now. Can we forget that I danced like a skank with you at Spring Fling last year?
-Goodnight, and good morning babe.

Papa:
I worry sometimes that I have no friends because you are the only person in the world who texts me first, then I remember I am just lucky that my best friend is my dad.
-Be good, and if you can't don't get caught.

Scum of the earth,
I don't know why you still smile and wave at me. We are not friends. I only wave back out of habit.
-And that is a wrap.

Can we run away?

Some times I wish I could just disappear. I wish that I could drop everything, stop caring about people and dishes and school and work and hide in a little house on the beach with flowers and sunshine. I wish I could just sit and write and read and get lost in words. That would be so nice. It would be easy and pleasant and lovely and good. Only I can't because I have to graduate. How gross.

Just throw them away

 

 

I sometimes can't figure out which piece 'b' is to attach it to piece 'a'. When the computer gives me steps to follow I generally get lost and directions on a road map were never my forte. I don't use recipes and I think that I could tell you the proper way to tie a tie.




I tie my shoes wrong according to my dad and I still can't fold a fitted sheet nicely. I know they did teach me how to make a capital E in cursive and I could probably do that before I could parallel park. I knew every step to the quadratic equation once and I forgot the rules to name things in chemistry before that.

I didn't bother to read the operators manual when I got my phone and I stopped listening when they told me which fork to use first. I thought about double checking the rules for baseball and probably missed class the day the taught us ultimate Frisbee.

People keep telling me all of those rules will matter to me someday. That when I need to make a loaf of bread someday I'll want a recipe or that when my mother in-law stays the night years from now I will wish my sheets looked nicer but I never liked being told what to do and I don't think you need to do it the right way as long as you do it.

We aren't that different

"I have Irish blood." The women told her with pride, smiling at the thought of knowing who her 'kind of people' were but the baby just stared at her in confusion.

"What blood do we have, Dad?" She asked, not even sure what that meant.

Dad looked down at her for a long minute, seeming to be contemplating the universe, not a question of heritage.

"The red and white celled kind baby girl." he finally nodded.

Things You Don't Know About Me

1. I am only quiet at school because I like to hear what you have to say. It has nothing to do with being shy, I just want to listen to you.
2. I think 'living deliberately' was Thoreau's excuse to run away from his life and don't like him for it. Maybe he just wanted to go write in the woods, but there are things that need to be done so get your butt off that mountain and get to work.
3. I cried in that dumb whale movie, Big Miracle. It isn't fair that the baby whale died. That shouldn't ever happen. That song, only the good die young, is rude too. Only the unfortunate know the good if it is true.
4. I only fell for the boy in the first place because he taught me that love wasn't lonely but I love him a lot, and I am really lonely. I wish he was here to remind me that I'm not alone.
5. I mentioned in a post that I was mostly just afraid of ants and everyone who read that thought I was kidding probably but I wasn't. I really am more afraid of ants than most anything else in the world. The kind of paralyzing, make you hyperventilate, can't even think straight kind of fear and I have no good reason of why.
6. I am very paranoid about kidnappers. I am scared on will be in the back seat of my car or hiding by the dumpster behind my work and so I have a lead ball on a 6 inch cord on my keys so I can hit them in the temple and run away and a big scary knife in the door of my car so I can stab them. I'm going to get a gun when I can. So don't try and scare me, especially in the dark, because I will try to kill you first and ask questions later.
7. I started my mission papers today and I am secretly really afraid that the boy won't wait for me when he gets home. Not because I don't think he loves me and wants to marry me, because no one could convince me other wise, but because he isn't very good at being alone and might just marry someone so he doesn't have to be.
8. I don't know what I would do if it weren't for ice cream. I really, really love it. and I love that a friend and I have gone to get some every time that we have ever hung out and with out talking about it switch of taking turns paying for it. I sometimes call him when I have no money and want ice cream. I think he has done the same though so I don't feel too bad about it.
9. I sometimes pretend to like people because I hate it when people don't like me. I would rather be your friend even though I didn't like you at all than not be friends and have you dislike me. I think that makes me petty and rude but I don't think I will ever change.
10. I am so done with high school I almost don't even care about my blog any more and that makes me sad because writing is one of my favorite things in the world to do and I love my blog. I need to get over seniorits before it kills my soul. Also, it is ruining my GPA, but that was a lost cause any way.

What he said

Mike said (11/6/2011 at 1:26 AM):

You helped me tap into the deeper parts of my soul and brought my interests back to writing and happiness back into my life. That is why you are one of my favorite people in the universe.


Mike said (12/28/2011 at 4:52 AM):

Sometimes you say things that make me blush so bad a blind man could tell.

Mike said (5/18/2012 at 10:18 PM):

You are being dumb by not taking better care of yourself and that last chapter was not your best. I don't think you were staying true to your characters and you should go change what Larain said when she found out.


Mike said (8/23/2012 at 3:26 AM):

I am drowning in my life. This is me sending off smoke signals for you, I'm ready to run away to Niagara Falls. Are you still willing to go with me?


Mike said (9/26/2012 at 4:02 PM):

Please don't cry. I know you love him, and I know he loves you because it is impossible to know you and not love you, and I know he is going to make you happy when he gets back. And if he doesn't I'll kill him myself and I will marry you instead. We can raise our kids on Star Trek and coconut shampoo.



 He was never the great love of my life or my best friend. He couldn't have been because he was too much to be either. He was a part of my soul. He was my better half. He was always just . . . him.

Then very last

Mike said (12/1/2012 at 12:44 AM):

Good night love. Sweet Dreams.
To Be Continued . . .






I gave him all of my secrets and all of my soul and all of my hopes and dreams and words. I gave him my tears and my nightmares and my laughter. I gave him my compassion and advice and my support. He gave me everything he could and I gave it all back to him. We competed and we fought. We teamed up and we stood together. And then he disappeared and left me to wonder what I did to not deserve a goodbye.

Ten things to smile about

1. You aren't dead yet.
2. You don't have to work in a coal mine to feed your family.
3. You aren't a woman in the middle east.
4. You aren't a werewolf either.
5. You are almost done with high school.
6. You probably won't be dead tomorrow either.
7. You aren't on the jury of a serial killers trial.
9. You could possibly be an astronaut or the president.
10. You probably won't be an astronaut or the president.

My life is a lonely chair

 I still go to all of your games, and I will always be your only fan.

 I still remember when we used to play all day, and I can't leave that park in my mind.

 I'm still waiting for you to come home, please hurry.

 I still write best on the porch but it isn't the same without you and your music.

I still go to the parties and I still don't quite belong at them.

Say A Lot With A Little

You've Bewitched Me Body And Soul

                    Yours To The Moon And Back

                                        I Never Really Got Over You
 
                                                           I'm Sorry I Took So Long

                                                                  Not Everything Is A Love Story

                                                        Everything Is Going To Be Okay

                                    Don't Cry Because It Is Over

                 All Our Dreams Can Come True 
 
Don't Let Anyone Dull Your Sparkle

                         Don't Worry About What People Say

                                             Part Of Him Was Always Hidden

                                                          To Love Is The Rarest Thing

                                                                     And There Is Nobody As Good                                                       
                                                         Doing What You Love Is Freedom


                                    You Don't Destroy People You Love



Fall In Mutual Weirdness Called Love

Honest would frighten you

You told me that of course Santa was real, and that there was no such thing as monsters. And when I learned, I asked you why you lied?  I told you those lies because honest ones would frighten you darling.

She told me that I was still her best friend, even if we were far apart, only when I went out there I met that stranger filling my role. I told you that you had that role because the honest one would frighten you, sweet heart.

He told me that he was never leaving, he would be the first one to stay with me my whole life. I never got to ask him why he told me that, knowing it wasn't true, because he disappeared without a word, but I never questioned it. He told me because, you never would have trusted my promises if I didn't, the honest ones would have frightened you a way m'lady.

It wasn't ever as important as I made it out to seem, I wasn't as afraid as I probably should have been and when I took my medicine on time it hardly even hurt but when you wanted to badly to help me get better I let you think you were. It wasn't that I needed you but I gave you a new level of importance when your honest one would frighten you daddy.

All those lies we tell, all the hurt we cause, all of the mistrust and none of it makes any sense except for that we think the honest ones would hurt too bad for us to face and we are all afraid to be hurt.

If we let it, the fire will burn us all to the ground

He has pretty blue eyes, she said to me, if nothing else he has those eyes. And I couldn't see how she thought that. His pretty blue eyes and thick dark hair were just the start of his infinite perfection. Just the start of his beauty. He was brilliant, dark and mysterious, with a full past, and a bright future. He had everything, and pretty blue eyes to top it all off.

I was quiet and new and didn't know how to be quiet and new. He told me it was okay, I didn't have to make any more friends. He was there, he said, and he loved me, he said, so I don't need anyone else, he said. And I believed him because he was right so often he had to be right then too, even if I didn't deserve him.

He said it and I believed it. I believed it because what more could I ask for? I believed it because he cared so much, always calling; to see where I was, who I was with, what we were doing, why wasn't he invited? I believed it because he worried so much about me; why was I late, why didn't I answer the phone, why wasn't I at school? I believed it because he always wanted more of me; one more kiss, five more minutes, please don't go yet, tell me again that you love me, just a little farther.

 

Soon enough he realised we didn't deserve each other though, and that was when everything changed. I was always late, always flirting, always leaving before he wanted me to, never had the right answer, never wore the right clothes, never knew what he wanted, wouldn't give him everything he wanted even if I could. I never really loved him at all, did I?

 

I didn't understand him and how much he loved me, he said. I didn't love him or I would stay the night, he said. I didn't deserve to be loved like he loved me, he said. And I believed him. I believed him because he had so many demons, they poured out of his soul with every word he yelled. I believed him because he was burning, burning with so much love it left my check red as he reminded me that I was his. I believed him because he had pretty blue eyes and thick dark hair to cover all of his infinite perfection and all I had was my bruised soul and tear stained face to hide behind.



I stayed because he had so many demons, they poured out of his soul with every word he yelled, and he said he loved me for taking them from him. I stayed because he was burning, burning with so much love it left my check red as he reminded me that I was his, and I didn't want his spark to go out.

Maybe there is a reason we are all alone

She sat in my car and asked me if I believed in soul mates, then went on to tell me about the someone she dreamed of for years. Someone was tall and skinny with nice dark hair and pretty blue eyes and she wanted to marry Someone. She told me Someone was all she ever wanted and she was so afraid that she would never find Someone. She slept with a blond stranger that night though and I couldn't help but wonder if Someone would want her if they found each other.

`

He told me that he believed there was a Someone out there for him, that it was just a matter of time. He was sure if he just kept looking for Someone that they would find each other when the time was right. Someone would be loyal and he would take care of Someone forever. I never understood how he thought he would find Someone if he kept going back to him ex-girlfriend, when he knew she wasn't Someone.

Every time she broke up with the next boy in line, she would come crying to me that she would pick Someone who would treat her better next time. Someone wouldn't play on her insecurities and Someone would understand her. Someone would be better for her. She would be happy with someone, if she would stop picking the type of boy that she knew was no good for her.

We all talk about our ideal Someone and say that they will come in and fix everything but I can't help but wonder why Someone would want to be with any of us. Someone is so perfect. Someone would never lie or cheat or leave, so why would Someone want to be with us when we do all of those things. Someone is better off staying nameless and far away. Maybe Someone decided that we didn't deserve to have anything more than the idea of Someone.

I was never good at mario kart

My car makes really good race car noises and it reminds me of animated raceways where hitting things was perfectly acceptable. It was encouraged in fact, hit the box, hit the mushrooms, hit the other people to slow them down.

Sometimes I pretend that it is okay and assign points to different things.

Gingers are 100, with no moral ramifications.

The blond, tan, barbie who has 60 clones who go to our school? 5 points.

300 for Asians, 500 for the black kid, 700 for the foreign exchange student. The less common the better.

Wheel chair, hobos, and street performers are all 1000 points unless you are in Nashville (they aren't as rare there.)

You get an extra life if you hit that girl you hate and lose one if your wheels find someone you like.

1500 if you hit someone who is deaf or blind.

I'm probably going to hell.

Don't be afraid of the dark, there is nothing there.

I'm not sure of anything anymore. Down is up and up is down and did it ever really matter which way is which? I don't know where I was heading anyway.



I don't know where I am but who cares? I'm going somewhere but somewhere is everywhere and anywhere and doesn't have a name, so how am I to know I got there if I get there?

He is she and she is me and we are us but us never existed even though I tried so hard. I tried so hard to get good enough for an us. You didn't know but it is true. It was true.



If the truth changes and now it is a lie was it ever really true? Or is everything a lie? Maybe Plato was on to something and none of this is real unless we think it is.

Maybe nothing is real and everything is a lie and if so, why do we keep trying? Why do we bother saying I love you or don't cry. Because love isn't real and neither are those tears so go ahead, hate everything and cry your pretend tears. Nothing matters.



We are all lost in this infinite nothing, going nowhere and feeling everything there is to feel. And for what?



None of it is real anyway.

I didn't think we would find our way here

The dictionary would tell you that space and distance are very much similar but I can't see it that way. Space and distance are two different things entirely. How else could you explain feeling so close and so far at the same time?

It is 12.2 miles from my house to yours. It takes me 17 minutes when I hit all of the red lights. Which we both know I always do. Add an extra minute to park my car and walk inside. It would take longer if I knocked. The distance between us is a lot more than that though. I don't think you know why I'm mad and I don't want to say sorry for what I said. And with every passing second the distance we are keeping in our space is growing.

2,115 miles and a stop at the border is a lot of space between us, but I don't feel it most days. Your heart is in mine and mine is in yours and the distance between us is nonexistent. There is no way to get closer to you. Maybe that is why we never had sex, because we didn't didn't have enough distance to feel like we needed to get rid of all the space between us.

 17.8 feet is all the space that we've put between us but even when I drove 669 miles I couldn't make the space greater than the distance. Years of me not being good enough and you not being there enough and neither of us loving each other enough have made the distance too big to cross. And you don't even know how sad that makes me.

Distance was a funny thing with you from the moment we met. You were already in my head by the time I knew your name and we some how kept getting closer every day. So maybe the 1,678 miles, different high schools and busy schedules were something we needed. At any rate, it is good to know that even when the space is great you can still read my mind.

 I can't get any space between me and the thoughts that haunt me, they are always right there with me, climbing over everything else in my brain to get to the top but every day the distance between them and me is increasing. Everyday I run a little faster and lose who I was around another corner and the distance dividing her and me grows.

So don't try and tell me space is the same as distance, because if it were I would be too far to feel his love and who I was would be too close to who I am and nothing would be how it is.

Its all because we love each other

"So I guess we are who we are for a lot of reasons, and I guess we will never know most of them." -Perks of Being a Wallflower.

Annie was never my real name but it has always been who I am. When I was small I had a problem with pronunciation. At least, I couldn't be a pirate because my r was a w and they told me that was a problem. I didn't mind so much except for the fact that it meant I couldn't say my real name. I was 3 when I started telling people my name was Annie. It changed to Ann when I was 5, and for a month or so I thought I liked Anna.It always went back to Annie though. Ask any of my cousins or aunts or grandfathers my name and that will be what they say. Annie was better than unpronounceable, uncertain, problematic me.

The Music man came into my life unexpectedly. I wasn't looking for anyone to sweep me away into the magic of music. I wasn't expecting him to send me songs that would reach into my very soul and get me to tell him stories that I didn't know I was keeping secret. I wasn't expecting to have him to make me cry with the beauty he could make with his finger and a few strings. I wasn't expecting him to make me love music the way he did. I wasn't expecting that I could love music like that.

My baby sister thought I was her mom for years. I was as close to one as she ever got and that makes me scared and sad. Scared that I messed up a lot and sad that she didn't get anything better. Better could have been good for her when she started Jr. High but all she got was a sister who was worried about her own first day of High School. Please don't cry baby girl, you'll make friends. Better would have been great when her friends started smoking and she wanted to be popular, but all I could give was a story of how that boy was throwing his life away to be cool. Please don't go down that path baby girl, it's not worth it. Better would have been so much better, but all she got was my love. I love you baby girl. I love you.

Dad wasn't around much but when he was it was always a good day. He had a way of making me think. Making me think about what I wanted to be when I was tall. He never let me think I couldn't do or be or see anything. He made me think the world was at my fingertips ready to lift me up. He made me think about who I was. He made me think of what I was good at, and what I could get better at. He made me think positive, because the flowers in the hospital were beautiful and the sun was still behind those clouds. He made me think of writing and reading and not going to school but still learning. He made me think I was powerful and a force. He was the only one who made me think like that and he taught me so I could do it even with out him.

She told me that she was my best friend and I believed her. I truly though she was helping me when we sat in the bathroom for an hour because English was unbearable. She was my best friend, she only wanted to help so who cared if I failed the class. I really believed her when she said that I shouldn't eat that apple because I was gaining weight. She was my best friend, she was only helping me so it didn't matter that she knew about my problems. I trusted her when she said he wasn't my type. She was my best friend and she only wanted to help so I could forgive her when she started dating him.

 The Music Man and the best friend and Annie and daddy and the baby. All of them were just people. Some of them were there for a minute, others I couldn't get rid of if I wanted to, but they were all there long enough. Long enough to make me think and feel and love and hurt and change. Long enough to help make me be who I am. Long enough to let me make them. Long enough to let us grow together then apart and to be us.

Strangers at her funeral

The day of the funeral arrives and the relatives have all gathered, even though half of them didn’t know her, or any one who knew her. They just know she once lived and now she is dead. 

They never even bothered to know her, to know how she lived, or who she was. Just that they were related, that she lived, and now she is dead. 

We sit in the church, and sing a few songs. 

All those kids screaming and crying, maybe because they knew that something terrible happened, that she wasn’t coming back. Or maybe because their moms didn’t bring enough cheerios. 

A stranger gets up, crying about the sister she never knew, and tells us all the grand things she did. What she doesn’t say, and didn’t ever know, is the little things that mattered. 

About the bear that broke down the front door, or about how she was the first one to tell me I had hips, that she knew secrets, and held them above me with words of my youth. She doesn't know any of that and then the time for words was us and we are getting up, standing in a line. 

“To say goodbye.” Dad says to the baby when she asks. “Why, where did she go?” she asks the next question, not understanding. “She went to heave, but don’t worry, she is waiting for us there.” And then he is silent again. Not able to speak the words that weren’t said before. 

We parade passed her body, see her face, with the smile that says she knew more than we did, and walk on, not knowing what to say. Then my dad breaks, forgetting that he already cried, and for the first time, he is balling like a baby, as weak and helpless as a lamb. A cousin is being strong, holding my mom as she washes off her make up. The baby still didn't know what to think, she is among those who didn’t know her, and travels away to her own world. 

And then there is me, who doesn’t know how to be. Not knowing her well enough to cry, but knowing to much not to care. 

When she is gone, when the coffin has closed its ugly jaws around her and sealed her away, all tears are forgotten. 

We go back to the church and eat that meal. The same one we always eat when some one dies. Ham that is to sweat, salad with tomatoes, cheese potatoes that mush in your mouth. 

And people laugh, glad that the sad part is over and they can go back to their lives. 

She is gone, with no way of coming back, and those who knew her have to put her behind for now, and those who don’t care try to hide there indifference. After the meal there are lots of goodbyes to strangers who claim to know you and then we drive home.

We go back to our lives, saying we don’t have to dwell on the death because she is happier now than she was with us, and her children, and all those people who didn’t know her. She is in a happy place. Don't you know? Don't you have enough faith not to cry?

She was alive, and now she is dead, and even that only mattered for a minute.