|Current mood:|| melancholy|
|Current music:||brand new - failure by design|
the post everyone should stay away from
somebody fucking shoot me. shoot me in the fucking head. I CANNOT BELIEVE THIS. and it's come at the best possible time, just as i'm actually getting myself the fuck together. god. fuck fuck fuck. let me explain - MY MOTHER IS HAVING SEX. she is looking for a long term relationship. she fucking promised. well, let's list her broken promises.
1. 'i promise me and your dad will never get divorced.'
2. 'i'll take it slow on the dating scene, okay?'
3. 'and there won't be any sleepovers.'
those are big fucking promises to break! god! she's always one step ahead of me. when i'm getting used to living away from dad, she's dating. but lying about it. when i get used to her dating, she's having sex. and lying about it. she's such a fucking liar. i thought i was bad - god. i was just starting to get it together, too. that's the part that gets me. fuck. i was actually starting to do homework, getting some sort of confidence to make some fucking friends, only cutting when i got really really low, but no. somebody fucking shoot me.
last night, while drunk, alone, bleeding in my room, i thought, 'i wish i could just die.' i've never thought that. i've said it to myself, but i never really meant it, i think.
which is why i'm counting down the days until i can move in with dad. i want him to move here. i was bored 'cause i couldn't sleep one night, so i made myself a wish list of all the things i want. after i looked over it, really the only things that aren't related to me living with dad were for jake/jacob to have the hugest crush on me and an unlimited source of money. and the tspark. it was like, 'merc for dad, apartment for dad, job for dad, tspark, money, jake/jacob.' that's really all it was. i want my dad to move here and i want to move in with him. i can picture what i want to say to my mother.
me: 'i'm moving in with dad. fulltime.'
her: 'but you'll be right here. you're spending one week with him and then one with me, okay?'
me: 'no. i'm living with dad.'
her: 'but what about me?'
me: 'look, you had us all to yourself for a whole year. it's dad's turn.'
her: 'but i'll never see my baby.'
me: 'oh, you'll see me on holidays and we'll talk on the phone all the time.'
that last line's my favorite, 'cause it's the one she used on us to make the move seem okay. which it fucking isn't. (nothing to say besides...) and i have this stupid little daydream, like i have with everyone i know, pretty much, of me walking out of school, just going down the stairs, and there's dad. scratching his chin, looking down at the ground, waiting for me. it almost makes me cry. i miss you so much, you really have no idea.
i'm always missing something. it's yucky. first it was the baby, now it's dad. i need to shut up and stop being such a baby. besides, i've got a LOT of the bean trees to read. stupid book.