|Adventures of a love addict|
So, the whole thing I wrote yesterday will have to be continued. It's gonna be an every other day kinda thing. Might as well. This is a diary after all. I get to choose this. Plus, some days I actually might have something to talk about other than some random fantasy I would possibly make into a play/bad movie. Just so you'd know.
Anyways, today has gone fairly well, I passed my permit test finally, but now I have to call my school to get all this information that's rather stupid I have to get. A VOE, my ID, the original birth certificate, and my original SSN. Plus all this silly paperwork I'm going to have to do when I get there, more time added to the hours I'm probably gonna have to wait there. Gets stupider and stupider by the day.
But I'm not here to complain. That's my other time consuming hobby. Mixed with my mom's specially made nagging qualities, we make a fine pair. Maybe that's why I can't keep a guy down...genetics have won again. Damn you Darwin. Eh, it's not his fault. Mostly my mothers. She just had to give me multiple mind disorders, and now she had to give me bad genetics for my love life, or lack there of for mostly just the love part. Dear Lord I'm getting off topic.
So, at drivers ed class, I meet this girl. I can't remember who talked to who first, but we started talking, obviously. I see in her jacket pocket a pack of cigarettes, and my favorite kind after I asked her. When I did ask her, she seemed shy about it like I was gonna tell her mother about her bad habit. After the class had ended, I saw her around the corner smoking a cigarette. Considering my day yesterday, crying in the morning and being drained and cranky the rest of the day, I needed one yesterday. But, when I can get them, I'm happy. So I asked for a coupla hits from hers. When we get to know eachother a little bit more, I might just ask for a cigarette myself. Where I'm gonna smoke it will be my next project, but I'll find a way. I always do. Hm, maybe if I can get some money I can ask for a pack. D'oh. Sorry, this isn't about a nasty, illegal habit. This thing was made for my romantical woes. But who gives a shit. Well, good people...or maybe just talking to myself...I will find a way to get the money, get myself a pack and a lighter. My mom being the most naieve and gullible person I've ever encountered, this shouldn't be that hard.
Dear Diary, I came here to tell you today about my ex. The one I told you about in the first entry. There just might be some hope, wonderful, wonderful over-dramatic hope. Talking to him just to see where we stood, he goofed up by telling me that "depends on a lot of things" if we got back together. Wrong thing if he wanted to get rid of me. Before, in my brain I had given up all hope, but, yes, there was still some locked up in my heart. Because of all that's happened to me, being in a psych ward for a week over high school shit, him being one of them, my heart feels like it has spaces gone. He might not be the key to getting them filled, but I think it might help over time. Might as well try, right? Well, anyways, I'm not giving up hope. Relationships don't always last, and even he thinks the one he's in right now (There's the answer to that question you might've had) might not last too long. Right now, he's the one. My special one. You try telling a relationship/love addict (remember, that's the title here) that she can't do what she wants. Also because she's incredibly stubborn. And opinionated and so many other things you can't even imagine trying to change. Plus, when I want something, when I really want something, I don't stop until it's done. And only I will say when this is done, because I'm tired of being let down by others. Now it's my turn. I have control over myself, not anybody else. And that, Diary, is a big feat for a sixteen year old girl. Kinda helps that I'm one of the few girls in America that actually likes who they are instead of focusing on someone from a magazine, trying to be like them. But that's a whole different story for a whole nother day. Or week, whatever. Guess this is me saying don't give hope on that one person. It might just happen.
My history: I've gotten over guys fast; I've given up when I've gotten dumped; and I was never the girl to fake a boyfriend--even though right now I'm faking that I've had more sex than I have (not exactly a virgin, only had sex once) to my ex to make myself seem more on his level--and I've always had that mentality of "Okay, he's just a guy, there are plenty out there." Of course it's always easier to say that either when it's not you, or you've never gotten attached to the guy. But I've changed, like I said. So my history is...history(?). Great choice of words and a cliche pun. Everything looks different now, so maybe I have a shot in doing so. I might have to fight a few bad habits I once had--gotten bored, liked too many guys at once (I only like my ex now, by the way), and sometimes even dumping the guy for another. It's going to happen. I've just got to work at it like a recovering alcoholic. Alcoholic is a better analogy than, say, a drug addict because alcohol is actually legal. Remember that kiddies. Thank you captain obvious. Sorry, that's the little man inside my head that hates me. His name's Wilmer. You won't like him. I don't like him. He's what keeps me up at night. And won't let ugly things die in my past. But mostly he's just a creative lie I have to freak people out. I think I might try him out with my psychiatrist to see how he'll react. Hm. Anti-psychotics. Great for the goody-bags, right.
Alright, my weird/creepy sarcasm aside, I'll have the other part of the play(?) tomorrow at some point or something.
Oh and now I'm irritated because I didn't bring the right library card and I went to check out books that I wanted to renew, and now the two I wanted to read are gone. Instead I'm getting some different books. I have a ton of time to read now because I have to use a stupid library computer. Which creeps me out by the way. I don't like sitting next to strangers and them being able to see what I'm doing. It's not like I'm looking up porn or anything, it's just I like my privacy. Who doesn't? Well, now I'm done. Time to go--less than ten minutes to go.
Wish me luck on my next adventure :]
--loveaddictsanonymous(LAA)I'mma start that group. :D Alright, for real, I'm gone.