diary-from-a-thoughtful-girl

[diary-from-a-thoughtful-girl]

a little quarrel under the northern lights - law boy pt 2

Since this is my online diary which no one in my small realm of people knows exists, I feel very comfortable revealing my honest, very biased, and naked truths on this matter.

At this point with law boy, there has been a little phone tag between the two of us - both of us asking to hang out, but neither of us really willing to sacrifice anything to see each other. I'm not going to not hang out with my roommates and he, for some reason that I would kill to know the truth to, won't see me past the early time of 10:30 PM on week days.

When Friday rolled around, he texted me in a very cocky and confident manner saying "let's link tonight :)" which irked me, but at this point, my mentally ill self was already infatuated with the rare concept of having any sort of feelings towards another person. I would love to tell you that I said no or that I insisted on a date or that I just didn't respond, but I'm fairly certain my response lays under the lines of "let's".

Knowing that we were hanging out around 7:30 PM that day, I was with my roommates M, S, and D when they suddenly came to the realization that we were going to be able to clearly see the northern lights from where we lived and even more clearly if we went towards the mountains. Being somebody who wants to take everything from life and the world around me, I was very keen on the idea of driving towards the mountains to see the northern lights then leaving late at night so I wouldn't have to camp. The problems that came with this plan was that law boy was coming over and that I needed somebody else to drive back with me late at night. My other two roommates C and K were interested in the idea, but it sounded like they needed convincing so the idea was ruled out in my head.

When 7:30 PM rolled around, I picked him up and we went back to mine. I ended up putting on a stupid movie where we laid with his arms wrapped around me and his hand tracing my stomach. It's wild because taking out the mornings after, talking with him is the most addicting thing in the world. I think it's the mixture of past intimacy, the ease of being in the same bed, and just who we are that makes everything feel so perfect. I become so keenly aware of how much I'm genuinely laughing and of the feeling of him being unable to contain his laughter and pulling me in closer to him so he can laugh through my hair. I get so addicted to how I feel when I'm talking to him or when he makes me laugh that it becomes impossible for my feelings not to leak and spill all over whatever it is that we have.

Because of being consumed in the movie or whatever we were talking about, time completely slipped my mind. It reached 10:30 when my roommates and I were supposed to leave and I was rested with the idea that I was going to be able to spend the night with him. This was until we were in the middle of making out when I heard my name being called from downstairs. I remember cursing to myself and feeling a slight panic that they would walk in my room and I would suddenly be caught like a teenage girl hiding drugs. I searched for my phone and when I opened it, it was around thirty texts of my three roommates talking about how they now felt the need to go and see the northern lights and that I had to come with.

A big part of me suddenly panicked.

I have a really big issue of a constant internal struggle in my brain. Whether it's what I should cook for dinner, what I should do with my life, or how to respond to a text - my life is consumed with debates.

Let me lay this one out for you. On one hand, I've never seen the northern lights. The fantastic explosion of beautiful colors in the dead of night racing throughout the sky. It was a privilege only some people were granted, and the opportunity for me to see it only an hour away from where I was living seemed too hard to pass up. My roommates also came with expectations that I was already going to go with so there's this external pressure that was weighing on me that I can't choose a guy over the northern lights.

On the other hand, I clearly told law boy I would hang out with him tonight. I would be a complete flake if I bailed. Also, I haven't felt emotions towards another person like these since my first boyfriend. I've tried so many countless of other times, so so many times last year, and it came to no avail. But, here I am, sitting across from law boy with his blonde hair and his cute boyish smile and I have those feelings towards him. The big part of this hand, however, is that he doesn't have those feelings towards me. He sees me as a hook-up, somebody that he can waste the hours with until he has something to do or an LSAT to take.

This is my dilemma.

I'm sitting on my bed, looking through the texts while law boy is looking at me, his head tilted to the side and his eyebrows furrowed as confusion races through his face. He asks me what's wrong and I pour out my situation onto him, telling him that I really want to see the northern lights, but how I feel bad that I'm leaving him when I told him that we would hang out. I see a flash of disappointment cross his eyes so quickly that a big part of me feels as if I imagined it there or maybe hoped that that is what I saw. I make this big deal of it because my brain becomes wired with the debate and I become too overwhelmed. I'm essentially whining to him with my dilemma while texting my roommates to wait just five minutes for me.

Law boy finally decides to make the decision for me. He stands up, asks for a towel, and starts to get dressed. Completely conforming into what he's already doing, I rush towards the bathroom. Then, suddenly, my nose starts bleeding. In the humid parts of May, this happens to me all of the time. Not sure if it's genetics or if how my body is, but I have had so many that it's basically no big deal whatsoever. I was overwhelmed and honestly my nose bleeding was a perfect excuse for doing what I actually wanted to do which was stay in my room with law boy.

I get stuck in the bathroom for around 10 minutes, convincing my roommates to leave without me since I wasn't going to be the reason why they missed the northern lights. It was as if the big man upstairs made the decision for me - I was staying home for the night.

When I got back into the room, I became aware of how overwhelmed I was and how much of a big deal I made over a small inconvenience. He was fully dressed, a joint resting between his fingers, his body halfway outside of the window as he took another hit. I sat next to him, not talking while we were killing the joint.

"I'm sorry to give you whiplash, but I'm actually staying in for the night," I say, putting the joint in my pocket and resting my body on the side of the closet doorframe.

I see him get slightly annoyed as he cocks his head to the side and sits down on my couch. "What? What do you mean? I thought you wanted to see the northern lights. I would feel bad if you didn't," he commented, running a hand through his hair. At this point, I was high and I was so so exhausted from my thoughts and from the past half hour. All I wanted to do was to lay down with him and watch a movie.

"No, I'm staying. Do you want to stay with me or are you already set on leaving?" I ask, fully knowing what I wanted out of the situation.

This was the wrong thing to say because he pushes back, asking what I want. I was fully aware of the big deal that I made from this and the whiplash that I was giving him so I pushed back, saying that I was fine with whatever he wanted to do, but both of us being stubborn future lawyers, he didn't back down.

Feeling exhausted, I conceded and said, "Well, I obviously would want you to stay".

He shoots back that he thinks there's something more going on here and that while I'm clearly very overwhelmed, he thinks that there is "external pressures" that I'm feeling and that I'm not making him aware about.

I become frustrated as I've clearly stated exactly what I want and he's trying to make things mean more then they should. I respond with "The only external pressure that I have is being a people pleaser". This was not the response to make.

Because of the word "people pleaser", he suddenly was set on leaving, mentioning something along the lines of how he had to wake up early the next day (which was Saturday and was complete bs) and that it was already getting late (10:40 PM on a fucking Friday night). I remember feeling a wave of hurt.

I walked out of the room and fell silent, not really grasping how the night slipped away from me so easily. I'm not sure how, but we were able to get in my car and I was able to drop him off. When he left my car, I was left with the eerily familiar feeling of being genuinely hurt by somebody that I cared for.

It was a scenario where I told him what I wanted, that I wanted him to stay twice and somehow he still ended up leaving and I was alone at 11 pm on a Friday night. It must've been because I'm on a down spell from my mental illness, but it felt like a complete sucker punch to the stomach. I could feel my sadness grasping onto my shoulder with its dark and sharp hands and submerging me under. Okay, maybe I shouldn't have smoked.

It was too much for me and I needed to completely pass out that night which I ended up doing.

After that night, I knew I needed to separate myself from him. The feelings that I had towards him is what made our connection and the sex so unbelievably good, but that night I became all too aware of the pain that these feelings could cause me. It suddenly became too much of an easy answer.

I'd rather completely ghost him and not talk to him again then to ask him the question of what are we. Because, I don't believe I could deal with that rejection of the small and impactful word of "nothing".

[diary-from-a-thoughtful-girl]

casual sex - law boy

In this new day and age of technological advances and the easily attainable connections with the world around you, it's genuinely so easy to see how open relationships, the lack of commitment before the age of 30, and the desire to have small intimate moments with people have become so popular.

Being freshly graduated, "vintagely" single, and a newly 21-year old baby, I've become all too familiar with the new world of dating. While I went on a little hiatus from guys, there was one guy who was able to break that.

To understand the situation, I'll bring it to the beginning where I'm out with my friends A and R at an Australian-based bar around 20 minutes away of where I live. Now I can't tell you much about that night because lets just say it all became a little blurry and I woke up the next morning with a guy's number in my phone named "Blonde Boy".

Me and the mysterious boy who I had close to zero recollection of started texting and talking - asking when the other was free, what we were doing at the moment, how drunk we wanted to be... When it was around a week of this back and forth, phone-to-phone, I drunkenly texted him to meet up with my friends and I at this Latin club; and being the absolute worst, I got too drunk and ended up completely ghosting him. He called me a couple of times, sent me a quick text, but my drunken brain at that point in my life didn't want to have something casual or something quick - I wanted someone to take me home and take care of me. And a big part of me knew that that was not happening with a guy who was named "Blonde Boy" in my phone.

While I recognize this was a very shitty and bad thing to do, I was fine with my decision - in January of that year I didn't want anything to do with boys and the thought of them was dreadfully exhausting. But, as all girls in their early twenties, I was against this belief four months later by the beginning of April.

To cover the bases, I'm a very sexual person. Maybe it's due to my past relationships, the societal and cultural pressures of women sexualization, or how the big guy upstairs made me, but that's how it is. At this point in April, I haven't had sex since the previous June and I was starting to crave physical intimacy which lead me to downloading a certain app where I ended up matching with a certain person who ended up messaging me a line that made my heart smile which ended us in the college inn pub on a random Wednesday night.

I had very, crazy low expectations for the night - mostly due to my nervousness, but partially due to my own actions of ditching him.

When I tell you I had such a good night, I had such a good night. It might've been the confidence boost from winning at pool or the two jagerbombs that I had or the discovery of so many commonalities that were shared between the two of us [law school, reading, tennis, formula1...], but I had the best time.

But, this is where I made the grand classic mistake. I remember the feeling of needing to beat him at chess and the search of my brain on how do I convince this man to stay with me a little longer. I threw out the idea of coming back to my house where we could smoke on the porch and when we annoyingly got kicked out of the college inn pub, it felt like the logical next step.

My goal was to not sleep with him. I'm having such a good time - why would I waste the potential of me and law boy (yep, I changed his name) on a random hook-up. While that's a whole other debatable topic, what we can all agree on is the fact that sex changes the dynamic no matter what. We ended up smoking on my porch then we were in my room, talking about who-knows-what while his hand traced my upper thigh and my hazey thoughts kept coming up in bubbling giggles.

Then, as you can predict, he kissed me. I remember folding into the kiss, letting myself get worked up by the taste of him. The taste of an elf-bar strawberry-mango. I remember the fleeting thought that I was only going to kiss him a little then I was going to make up a drunken excuse, but then he pulled away for a moment and that was when I fell apart. His eyes flickered to my lips then back towards my eyes. He looked at me like every ounce of his body needed me, that everything in his life would be complete if I granted him the favor of giving him this night that was already his to take.

While, in hindsight, this was a crossed analyzation, fabricating that in my head made my emotions latch onto his, my soul for the time-being wrapping around his and becoming tied with what we were doing in that moment. In other words, fantastic fantastic sex. The perfect play on the line of intimacy and fun. It was looking over his shoulder in missionary and wanting to memorize every curve of his shoulder. It was running my hand through his hair because the lack of self-restraint that I had was overwhelming. It was whispered words that made me fully and heart-heavily believe that I was put on this earth as a counter-part to him. This is what lust is from a very thoughtful and very emotional and very mentally ill gal, but that is what I was feeling.

Even the calm after was too intense to look back on. Law boy had an obsession with tracing my skin which made me too weak to admit. Especially becoming sober, when it was time to go to bed and close my eyes for the night, I turned away from him. I moved towards the edge of the bed and faced the opposite wall, already feeling parts of myself giving into what I was feeling that night. When I was drifting asleep, being carried towards my subconscious dream world, I felt his arms wrap around my body, his legs intertwining with mine, and his face falling into my hair and kissing my back. Throughout the night, he would pull my stomach closer to him or move his hand to play with mine.

Now, all of the other stuff before this point was an easy getting-over. But this little maneuver of his, this little trick, provided me with the understanding of "butterflies in my stomach" and threw everything else out of the window.

The next morning when we woke up, we slept with each other again. But, with the entirely different context of it being bright as daylight outside and with the utter presence of soberness between us. I say this so negatively, but the sex was still so so good.

As always, however, everything must come to an end. When we got into my car for me to drop him off, an awkward air was sitting around us. I didn't know what to say and he didn't know what to say. We already went through all of the basics the night before and the casualties of what we were doing that day. While the drive was only around 10 minutes, it felt like an eternity of uncomfortable silence that reeked from both parties. I dropped him off, focusing on the positives, forcing myself to put the entire night in the perspective of how good the date and the sex were rather than judging us for the day after.

This was a week ago and I hung out with him again this past Sunday and he slept over, we hooked up, it was still amazing, but the next morning held the same uncomfortable air. It was so interesting to think about because while people try to deny it or claim the capabilities of detaching feelings or emotion, sex is still an intimate action. There's periods throughout the night where you become one with this other person and they reveal to you every inch of their vulnerability.

For casual hook ups or people like me who hook up on the first night, when the next morning arrives, you are confronted with the slightly uncomfortable fact that you don't really know who this person is. You change from seeing them as the most important person in those 12 hours of the night to fighting for things to talk about or grasping at straws at the attempt to figure out how they feel.

Maybe because this was the first time where I've had sex that felt like love without actually being in love, but the sheer naked truth of humanity and the relationships that are created through intimacy became sad.

I'm writing these revelations while I am sick and while I am fighting the urge to ask him to come over which might have something to do with the deep descriptions and the melancholy tones.

But, I'm excited to keep you updated.

[diary-from-a-thoughtful-girl]

from halsey's poems

He told me about the women he had slept with when

We were apart.

He was honest and I had asked for it.

He told me stories decorated with glitter and champagne pools.

Girls who relaxed in sweet drunken smiles and enveloped him in warmth.

Lazily tumbling through bedsheets,

glowing in the acid hue of the outside lights.

Girls who wouldn't ask him to care.

Or turn away from him on a shared mattress.

Girls who weren't sad and tired.

Girls better than me.

Who had learned to turn their trauma into

adventures for him to stumble blindly through.

Instead of wallowing

in their brokenness

and breaking everything

in their path

as penance.

[diary-from-a-thoughtful-girl]

But, of course, it never does. I'm at my spot again, with tears staining my face and a broken heart that wholly and heavily craves a hug. I miss him. I'm lost and broken and miss him. I feel worthless and idiotic for trusting him when he told me he could be my person... that he would always be there for me when I faltered. I want him back because right now, I'm drowning.

[diary-from-a-thoughtful-girl]

I've been doing very up and down. Like when my therapist tells me that I might be bipolar, weeks like these scream and slap me in the face like it's been so obvious all along. Beginning of this week, I wanted to kill myself over this boy. How pathetic is that? It was suffocating and I haven't been in that low of a low in ages. I'm not going to explain what happened because since that no good, terrible Halloween Sunday, my mood has been drastically better. Like major. Although I would never say this out loud, he was my one true love and though I'm clearly struggling which is seen through the sheer existence of this book, the medication in my make-up back, and the lack of being able to smell weed, I'm satisfied with the person i chose to love and how I loved them to the capacity that I could. And even though it didn't work out, I'm left with those beautiful memories and the slimmer of hope that I'll be able to give all of that love to that beautifully broken boy again.

Just, hopefully this peace and satisfaction lasts.

[diary-from-a-thoughtful-girl]

private diary thoughts

I'm pretty fucked again. I can't handle myself. It's pretty overwhelming and the hurting in my heart makes me feel so utterly alone. It's moments like this one where death looks so attractive.

It's exhausting holding these expectations for myself and not living up to them.

Every single thing takes so much effort.

But, the concept of the mere nothingness that would consume you after death is so appealing so fucking appealing. I'm not quite sure what's wrong with me... if it's the chemical imbalance in my brain, the lack of importance within anyone's lives, or the fact that he has the restraint to completely cut me from his life.

I wish I was one of those people who hid their emotions to the point where they can fool happiness for the sake of others. I think I was like that, but recent events show me that I wear my emotions on my sleeves now. I think that it's because I feel like no one truly cares without the presence of obligation. If I show you upfront, will you still care for me? Will you try to help or will you become distant?

I'm not even sure what I'm saying anymore. I'm drowning and I need somebody to help me. I'm getting towards my last straw.

[diary-from-a-thoughtful-girl]

I gotta be more forgiving of myself. I ended up getting Taco Bell with other officers from the club I'm a part of and had a really nice day. And I also woke up today, looked in the mirror and genuinely thought I looked like the hottest person. I was feeling myself and I loved it. Although I should definitely eat better, I have to be nicer to myself.

[diary-from-a-thoughtful-girl]

This isn't very "healing" of me, but I have been such an unproductive fuck today. I smoked and ate a literal mountain of food. That's it. I'm just mad at myself.

[diary-from-a-thoughtful-girl]

best friends

Today's better. He doesn't know this, but P is a huge ass part of me healing. I spent half of my day with him yesterday and it felt like a breath of fresh air. I have this tendency to believe that relationships mean more to me then my counterpart which is probably true with P, but our friendship makes me feel like for once, that's ok. Although he doesn't make all of the pain go away when I'm with him, he makes me feel like I'll at least be ok and that I won't be alone. And I'll forever be grateful for him. He's my best friend.

[diary-from-a-thoughtful-girl]

a letter to my ex i guess

What absolutely destroys me is the sexual part of me. I've hooked up with three people since we broke up, but they've felt whole-heartedly meaningless. However, because we were in a relationship for so long... I have such a high sex drive. You just completely fucked me up.

Whenever I'm alone in bed, horny as hell, my mind just drifts to you. And I hate it. It puts me in a spiral about how what once was such an intimate act of you and me where it was only you and me soon became the possibility of you and anyone I walked past at the grocery store. It utterly kills me as although I feel as if I am healing, my body still needs and craves you.

[diary-from-a-thoughtful-girl]

romanticizing my pain

I have this habit of romanticizing my pain.

Whenever I crash and start to feel shitty, I almost crave it because it's almost better then feeling nothing at all. I say this, but as I'm sitting here, supposed to be doing work, I am ultimately struck by the heart twisting pain that sadness brings. It's immobilizing. Before settling at this mall, I drove around for about an hour, stopping at random coffee shops in a complete haze and total dissatisfaction that none of those said coffee places felt right. And therefore, I couldn't settle for anything less than the right place.

I'm not sure why I feel this way. Maybe it's my struggle for attention or a random claim or attempt to feel special in a world where people are easily overlooked and overseen. My only issue with writing my problems/how I feel on paper or in a journal is that no one will ever read it, all of these words that spill out of my hand will become unnoticed and unimportant so what is the point in writing them at all? To get my feelings out? I miss having a person, someone to share the depths of me that I'm scared to deal with. Someone who cares without the obligation of blood or career.

I think, in conclusion, I'm hurting and it's killing me. I'm exhausted

[diary-from-a-thoughtful-girl]

missin my ex fr

It's embarrassing how much I miss Oliver. How much I want him to text me and to hold me, to make everything go away. I truly believe he's my soulmate and I would be completely fine with the time apart as long as he doesn't fall in love with someone else because if he does, that would break me.

Life's starting to look like it only has two choices... either he comes back to me or I lose him forever which I couldn't fathom... I'll be alone without him because absolutely nothing compares to the comfort and security he gave me. I miss him so fucking much.

What's funny to me is that I used to think he needed weed and now I'm at the point where I need weed to stop thinking about him so I can get over him.

I want him to just come back to me. I'm embarrassing myself too much.

[diary-from-a-thoughtful-girl]

embarrassing friend crush

I dreamt about D again. I don't know why I can't get that boy out of my subconscious head. It might be due to the books I've been reading or the lack of a better option. I just wanna chance with him. There was once in the past couple of weeks where he was really really wasted. He texted me mentioning that he wanted to hang out and I didn't think anything of it until I saw him.

Fucking MV came down with me and ruined it, but I saw the glimpse of disappointment in his eyes. A defeated sense that surfaced when he realized that MV would be on his ass the entire night. That night, I wouldn't have been able to hook up with him because I know I would've fallen straight into love with him.

But, even with my dream last night where literally nothing sexual happened, I can easily stop thinking about him but that doesn't mean that I still don't want him. I truly, fully, just want to hook up with him to either get over it or to get my foot in the door so he can fall in love with me :)

[diary-from-a-thoughtful-girl]

oh no lol

I still feel kinda lost, but I feel better. I've fallen into reading and the beach and taking pictures and the clubs that I'm apart of. I'm currently reading this book series called "Off-Campus" and it's the cheesiest thing in the world, but it makes me feel something which is nice, but that something comes in the form of being a young girl in love.

I miss being consumed by it, every thought and every action with the thought of him. The selfishness that comes with it and the caring - going to places with the thought of "I wonder what he would think" or "maybe I'll get this for him" or "when are we seeing each other again".

But, I know I need this time for myself. I started developing night terrors thanks to my dad. I'm slightly realizing that my anxiety is reaching a "scared of everything" level which sucks. It's like an underlying thought that keeps pushing and pushing. It's alright, it's just what I'm going through at the moment. I hope it changes though.

I need to get my shit together. I'm going to. I know I can.

[diary-from-a-thoughtful-girl]

waiting for the shoe to drop

I have incredibly high highs and terribly low lows.

My highs soar to a point where I don't believe that I was ever sad... that it was just a weird time and that there is no way it'll happen again. But, at this moment, I can feel that familiar ache in my heart and the familiar weight that wants to pull me under.

It might be because my best friend P left, but I'm not too sure. D, P, and I drove from where I go to college to home throughout a couple of days then they came here to stay at mine for a day. I dropped D off at the airport then P at the train station in the late afternoon. I genuinely and truly love them. I don't think I've enjoyed myself and laughed the way I did in such a long time. It was a very fun trip that I'll tell my kids about one day.

I miss the two of them like crazy right now. I feel like I haven't had true friends like that in awhile. I know they both have closer friends, but I do hope I make it to the wedding list.

Anyway, I hope the feeling I have is just a feeling and I don't spiral. If I do, at least I'm with my family.

Honestly, it feels numb.

It's absolutely crushing. I'm scared for tonight. I'm scared to be alone right now. I'm fucking petrified. I'm scared for tomorrow and the day after that and the day after that. I don't know what to do.

[diary-from-a-thoughtful-girl]

loneliness

My sister came to visit. She's been pretty fun. She's honestly the best friend/sister to have. I hope one day we get to live with one another again. I would adore that.

Anyway, life has become pretty steadfast for the summer. I read, tan, work, go to the lab. It's a very nice schedule. I don't dread any of my obligations and I look forward to the next thing. The only thing is that I am in this weird sort of limbo, like I'm waiting for something else to come or something exciting to happen. Or it feels like I am. It's honestly dreadful. What's most dreadful is that it's the need for a guy to come and make me feel something. I'm not at the point in my breakup where I'm confident enough to be happy in life being with myself. Although there is a claim that it's toxic, I kind of love codependency, having somebody there that needs you, that genuinely couldn't survive without you. IN return, I love needing someone - the vulnerability of it and the way you have someone to do everything and anything with.

Loneliness is such a killer. That's what would kill me or make me settle for less than I deserve.

[diary-from-a-thoughtful-girl]

love my mama

The thing about me and my mental health is that I have incredibly high highs, but then I have earth-shattering lows. I'm on one of those highs, and I have been for awhile.

I've been reading a lot, taking a class that I actually enjoy, shopping, loving my style, scrapbooking, and journaling. It all kind of started with my mom. Although she does have her moments, she's whole-heartedly one fo the best moms, the best mom, I could've asked for. She supports everything I do, recognizes when my decisions should be mine, and intercedes perfectly when she needs to. If I ever need someone, she's there.

Love her. This turned into a dedication to her.