Life as we know it sucks

No one

Current Mood: tired

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7/18

I saw his last name.

I'm sort of agitated. Is that bad? I'm watching this show on date rape. I guess you could say I've experienced that a little. God knows. My daddy knew and he tried to do something about it. But now that it's just mother, she won't do anything about it. She won't make him leave. The day I turn 18, I'm moving in with Shane. I don't care if we sleep in the basement or in his car or under a tree. I just want to get away from this family. I get nothing out of this family.

I never used to know whether I was a virgin or not. That's not a very good thing. Sometimes I hint at the reason why my hatred toward my brother is so strong to Shane, but he doesn't really catch on. So, I don't push it. Every time I think about it, I hate my brother more. I know God basically says, "Forgive and forget," but I just can't forget that. It's not possible to forget that.

Now I don't want people to touch me anymore. I don't want to be a part of Shane anymore. I don't want to see him anymore. It tears me up inside, but I can't help it. It makes me so sick. I told him: no sex before marriage and I mean that. But what if we get married, then what happens? What if I don't want to? Tell me that.

Now I want to yell and scream and hit things. I want to be angry. But when I'm angry, I cry, I look like I'm sad, not mad. It pisses me off. I wish I could tell him, but then it would be a whole new side to me . . . If I did tell him, he wouldn't know what to say. He probably wouldn't have anything to say but, "I'm sorry." I don't care.

I wish Marshall could get payback. But I doubt that. I remember Jacob wanted to kick his ass; he said, "Why is that fucker still living?" I know I was young, but I remember and now I know what he was really doing. I hate my past, my present and most likely my future.

Shane would no more understand that than understand that I feel guilt now for saying, "I don't give a fuck whether he dies!" or why I couldn't, actually, wouldn't go to the hospital to visist my daddy one last time. I miss him now more than ever.

I just want to hit something. I just want to jump off something. I hate this. Why did all of this have to happen? I don't even care about my mother. I doubt I ever have and NO ONE UNDERSTANDS THAT EITHER. I can't tolerate her anymore. I am sick of her patronizing me and not understanding the meaning of JOKE! GOD DAMNIT MOTHER! I just want to tell her to fuck off one day. I wish I were 17 going on 25 so I wouldn't have to listen to her bitch anmore. Ugh. No one gets it. This was all too much . . .

I still have yet to even begin letting it out. I would never tell Shane this because I'll cry. And I never want to cry in front of him because he won't know what to do and I'll feel let down. That's why I cry by myself.

I just want to cut myself. Dig up new flesh. Ravage old wounds. Shane wouldn't understand that either.

I've come so close many, many times at telling Shane about daddy. But I can't. Even though he, himself, shared a lovely anecdote about his father. He teared up at the likes of it. His father would not go to the hospital for Shane's birthday. He had to be there since he knew he would not come back. <sigh> I was just selfish. That's how my little tale's moral adds up.

I need someone to talk to and the only person I feel comfortable talking about this with is 300 miles away. Maybe more. I don't know. Do I get what I deserve like everyone thought about that girl on the date rape show? I mean, come on, be real. No one cares about 10 years ago. No one, but me.

--------------------------------------------
but i threw you the obvious,
just to see if there's more behind you.
eyes of a fallen angel,
eyes of a tragedy
but i see,
see through it all.
see through, see you