Groups

Groups of girls seem to be... groups of drama filled-- girls. I don't really know how to say that any differently. I don't even know why I'm writing this, i think that it's just something that has been on my brain a lot recently.

Recently, I had a group of girls-- cosplaying girls-- of course-- and they all fell apart. I'm not going to write this as an I'm sorry, and i'm not going to write this as a-- rant about even the drama surrounding the events, because the truth is that it's-- incredibly drama filled-- and not really important to anyone else.

What i'm asking from them is this--

If you can-- find it in your heart to just-- suck it up-- for the love of cosplay-- I will shoot with you and i'll forget everything said for that one day, and we can shoot with amazing photographers, and we can make amazing things, if you can just-- stop.

I don't think many people get this opportunity, and that's why i'm posting it as something public-- Micah-- the-- bitch, dictator, says that if you can just suck it up for one day-- then she can too.

The end.

Writing

When I was younger, I wanted to be a writer. For the longest time before that I wanted to be a Vet. Now I don't even know what I want to be. I think that if people my age were to know exactly where they were planning on going, then they would be abnormal. Life is getting steadily complicated. I really don't know what to write so, i'm just going to write whatever comes to my head.

When I was younger, I wrote stories. And not only did I write them, but it was also almost like I lived them. I learned how to dance so that I could write about dancing. I learned how to kiss so that I could write about kissing. Every person, or situation became a new experiment. I would talk out situations in my head, and I'd stare in the mirror almost having a fight with myself, just so that I could convey the emotion in the writing.

It may sound really bizarre now, but back then it just made sense. My family thought that they were doing me good, but it just caused me to stop. They told me I couldn't be a writer if I can't spell, or my grammar's not perfect, or the commas are in the wrong place, or if I wrote one too many run on sentences. I had so many stories started, but I couldn't continue them. 

Eventually, my hard drive crashed... and my stories all went down with me. I couldn't continue any of those stories of first kisses, because I wasn't on my first kiss anymore, and explaining everything over again just didn't seem worth while. 

I'm beginning to spite my mother... And that kind of scares me... I don't know if I'm spiting her... or if I'm spiting anyone who tries to get inside. You see recently, I was hurt so bad that my heart physically doesn't feel like it can take anymore. I want someone to sit down with, someone who won't tell me I'm crazy... but every  time I sit down in person and try to talk about it-- I can't talk through the wave of tears-- and then I just look crazy.

I know that the name for the "...: is an ellipsis but what's the name to the "--". I don't know. I don't know that I've ever learned it... This writing is turning into me thinking in circles. The truth is whenever I see someone else writing, I want to write, and I started writing because the girl on the television had a writing problem and now I feel like I have a writing problem because I can't stop speaking... 

I don't know that this made any sense. 

Holidays

Holidays are supposed to be spent with family and the people you love. Well what if the person that you love is fucking the girl that once said that she loved you... the therapist said nothing about that.

My therapist said that i was going through an emotional divorce if you would. I believed that you'd love me forever and I took that to heart. In fact I asked you and pleaded with you to love me forever and each time you told kw you would... each time you swore and you kissed my head through my irrational tears. I guess it wasnt so irrational now... because you were planning on leaving me from the beginning.

Just fuck my best friend. Just leave me drunk and passed out. My rabbit almost died. And now I'm here... alone... taking care of everything you promised I wouldnt have to do alone again.

A lonely thanksgiving pretending to be happy because thats what I'm supposed to do. And maybe if I lie and be who I'm supposed to be, this emotional inside will just die off. And I can be in a relationship with the millions of people interested in me... not because of love but because of what they can give to me... that you never could.

They spend money on me to spend money on me... and they are there for me emotionally because they want to be.... they don't pretend they love me while they day dream about my best friend. God you suck.

Have a happy thanksgiving. Looking at all the people you lied to. All the people that hate me because of your stories. When honestly,  you just got tired of me, and found that someone who's dumb as a brick and will open her legs to literally anyone-- is better than I am.

Have a happy holiday.

Mr Quitter

The thing you don't realize is that you dumped me for my immaturity. Well that's not completely true. The thought of being binded down to someone like me scared you. Someone that you can't fix. Even though I told you time and time again, i'm depressed and probably bipolar. And you told me you still loved me and that was a lie. You saw my emotions that i pleaded with you to not hold against me, and you did just that. You considered it a little girl throwing a tantrum, and not a grown up with too much in her past to handle the little blows that you dealt her on a constant.

So you know what you did? You left, for soeone who hasn't been through what I have been through. Because it's easier. Because you can fix her. Because you don't want to work for anything in your life. That's why you're not going anywhere. You blame everything on everyone else, and this time I was the scapegoat and if you ever really loved me, you would have realized this a long time ago.

I loved you more than you loved me from the very beginning of the relationship, but you let it all go. Because you didn't give two fucks about me when i was sad, or when i was happy, and it was ten times easier for you to focus on someone else and give your attention to someone else when it was all that I needed to get better. And now i'm not going to get better. 

I gave you everything I had. and now i'm lost. And it's not just you, it's my life falling to pieces and my grandpa dying, and y mo getting sad again, and every lie she's ever told me erupting inside my heart, and her leaving my dad and the fact that I need you to support me and you're too busy getting your dick sucked by some ginger cunt that only ever wanted to hurt me. And as soon as you realize it, it's going to be too late. Because i'm dying. And nobody sees to get that.

Even if my physical self gets through this, my emotional self isn't. And i'm going to be so broken and nobody, especially you Mr.  Quitter because it's too difficult, is going to be able to fix it. 

I can't do this.

I wish I knew that you read anything I wrote. I wish that I knew that you thought about me. Truth is you don't. Because you're fucking the girl you swore to me nothing was happening with and you don't give a shit about any of my emotions about the topic.

I keep writing this and then stopping because I'm sobbing too hard to keep going but I'm trying to get through this.

This is goodbye. Because even if my physical body gets through this, that girl you pretended to love will be gone forever. That girl she pretended to love will be gone forever. I don't know if my physical self will get through this. I don't know that it means enough for me to attempt trying.

Truth is, you were my final straw. I think you knew that coming in that I wasn't going to ever let someone else in. You were me taking that jump that I so greatly feared. You were the one I gave everything that I had managed to muster up after the amount of pain I've been through.

And what did you do with it? You cheated on me. Emotionally. Physically.  You left me and had sex with her when I was suicidal and possibly pregnant. I was so lost. And every moment I felt like you put her before me and you told me a million times that you never would... because you loved me...

That was all a lie. You never loved me. You used me to get to my friend. You used my parents hospitality and their money and gifts and you gave them a broken daughter in return.

You swore to me you wouldn't leave me. From early on till a month before ota. But your word means nothing. You say what you think someone wants to hear because you're a selfish bastard who gets off on using people.

I hope I don't get through this. So that maybe my death will do one thing for you.

I'm dying.

And I hope you're happy with yourself.

Sad

I feel so sad sometimes thinking about it. Thinking of the number of times you put her front of me. I can't help but feel like you try to have a relationship with her and when it didn't work out you came back to me because at least im comfortable. At least im good enough for the person that you can give me a chance.

I Still remember all the times used to put me first. I like to think that thats now but there is so many times you put her ahead of me and I pointed them out but it didn't seem like anything to you. How to make sure im you 1,000,000 times I'm the one and I don't think you can do that. Maybe it is just a matter of wont.

You don't respond to any of my messages because they are just that sad. Maybe thats what I need right now is for you respond to everything I say. I need to get the images out of my mind. I need everyone to know that I'm the only one for you. I don't think people know that or see it they used to. Everyone wants to take a break because they say this is not happy. But it really Doesn't have anything to do with anyone else.

I am so sad and you barely acknowledge this feeling. I do not know what else to do. I just want you to put me ahead of everything else again. I want to know that nothing like this is ever going to happen again. I want the strength to carry on. I need you to stop ignoring my emotions.

Please do anything to show me thaI always want to see the girls who carries a dozen roses, or eleven in your case, and not a loser that carries one. But I don't want you to give that one to anyone else.