My little black book

The following are a few entries I had written in a black velvet journal with a spiral, red dragon stitched on its cover. They speak on lost love or moments of despair because I found myself stuck in an endless cycle of bullshit. A lot has to deal with me growing up, getting in and out of a bad situation, and with every word I finally came to my senses. I never thought of sharing it until now:

"Cry"

The cold wind swept through the broken window

and lifted the curtains up

like ghostly figures glowing in the dark.
The thin branches of the old oak tree clattered against the wood frame.

The dying leaves wet from the rain showers flew in and soaked their lives into my carpet floor.

I sat there, in tears, and did the same.

I wrote this on Jan. 14, 1997 as part of a creative writing exercise. The teacher would give us one sentence, "The cold wind swept through the..." and we were supposed to expand on it. She thought I could've added a little more, but to me for what I was feeling at the time this was just right.

"Please Look at Me"

I walk...by you slowly.

Hoping you will see me.

Holding my breath with every tiny step.

I walk...straight ahead.

With my arms crossed.

Trying my best to enhance my features

(and hide my many flaws).

Maybe then you'll notice me.

But...

I walk...away.

When I see that your eyes are following someone else.

My mind constantly uttering the words:

"Please look at me."

I was inspired to write this while literally walking by this boy I had a crush on. He didn't even know me, but I would purposely walk by him just to see if even through the slightest curiousity he would glance at my direction and say, "Hi." He never did.

"A Place to Put Yours"

I space out...daydreaming about something else.

Something better.

Anything but this.

I realize that when I wake you will still be at it.

And I will wish for more sleep.

We do not talk anymore.

No 'sweet nothings' are whispered in my ear.

We do not hold anymore.

Your embrace remains cold and insecure.

We do not create love...

This is not love.

I space out just to keep my sanity;

to pretend to feel.

Something...anything at all.

Until now.

I realize that I am simply

just a place to put yours.

This is what it is. I was actually thinking these very words during...well...

"Painful Love"

I stay with you for reasons.

It's not just because of love.

Yes, I love you for reasons.

But it's not just out of love.

I feel like I can do whatever I wanna do with you.

Be silly, act like a baby.

Burst into tears or laugh out loud.

I feel comfortable to be around you.

To eat, sleep, and bitch because I want to.

These are my reasons.

My everyday, ordinary reasons

of why I can't leave...

Even when your words can shatter me.

And your force can abuse me.

And your mind can forget me.

And your heart can control me.

We were together for reasons.

And I took your pain ONLY because of my desire to have love.

I was crying when I wrote this. I cut a heart out of tissue paper and put a bandaid over it and placed it next to this entry in my journal.

"END"

I needed someone who needed me.

I thought you were the one.

I tried to keep you like you kept me.

Whenever I needed you,

I'd just take you out of my little hiding place and tell you all of my secrets.

I wanted someone who wanted me.

I thought that someone was you.

I tried to reveal what I felt,

but you'd just runaway and hide.

I wished for someone who wished for me.

You made a wish for something else.

I tried to make you change your mind.

But...I'd just wait.

I longed for someone who longed for me.

I thought for one moment it seemed it was you.

But you fell too short and still hid.

I hoped for someone who hoped for me just as much.

I opened my eyes too soon to see you.

But you just closed yours so you can't see anything anymore.

So now your blind and alone.

The next time you realize that I am here...I won't be.

And if you miss me, when your eyes can finally see...

Just close them again.

Nice and tight.

And dream.

This is the very LAST entry. I fought with him that morning and he just left me there in his house. I didn't know how to drive at the time and I had too much pride and not enough common sense to find another way home. So...as I was waiting there in his living room I wrote this on a piece of scratch paper and left it on top of his mantle. When he came back, I brushed him off and had his brother take me home instead.