I'm em.
I can't remember the last time I've been happy. Of course there's days that I'm less miserable than others. But happiness? Hardly. I suppose you think I'm just another stupid girl blogging about how shitty life is. But I wanted to vent, and you, world wide internet, seem to be the perfect venting buddy. I should start from the beginning, but I've seem to have forgotten where the beginning is. I've been feeling sick since James and I had our biggest fight. Jesus, that sounds ridiculous. I'm only 16. I'm too young for guy problems and I tend to laugh at girls who claim to have them. But this is real. God, how many little girls claim that? I guess there's no way to prove it, but I'll trust that by the end of all this, you'll understand. I hope someone will at least. I don't want someone to understand, I need it. I'm going mad. I'm not happy, I'm sick, and, try to bare with me when I say, I'm heart broken. No matter how typical and impossible it seems.
The last day of Freshmen year, Maggie (my best friend) and I were in downtown Chicago. For whatever reason, I felt the need to text James. James and I hardly ever talked but there were times when we'd have the weirdest, most random conversations (we once had a rather long dispute about pokemon. Yeah, it happened.) Now I don't remember the conversation we had, but I do remember Maggie saying something about how I'm the next girl. James had a "thing" (ha, hardly, considering they were in 7th grade) with Maggie. Little did he know she was a fucking a 20-some year old at the time. Shit, that was mean. I love Maggie. And I loved Will (the 20 year old). Whatever, the Maggie&Will scandal is a different story for a different time. Anyways, James also dated Ali, another one of my best friends of the time. Although that only lasted for less than a week. So if you ask me, I'd say I was the closest one to having something real with James, but I suppose I am a bit biased. Moving on, the next day was the Black Hawks Parade in downtown Chicago. For all those hockey fans, this was a giant celebretory parade for the Stanley Cup Victory my Blackhawks claimed. The parade, however, was a giant mosh on Michigan Avenue. I ended up passing out in a stranges baby strolled (the baby wasn't in it, thank god). I had to go in some building, an EMT ran tests on me, and after I was okay, my mother, Maggie, and I left. It was pure chaos. I told James about this which lead to more conversation and from that moment on, we talked on a regular basis. And when I say regular I mean 24/7. Literally. There were nights (mornings, really.) that I didn't fall asleep until 7am (if ever) because we would just talk non-stop. This is really weird to write about. I keep having flashbacks. Well, James and I started to get some what flirtatious. I don't mean that in a sleezy gross way. There were no "what you wearin' guuurl?" or "damn, you hot!". No, but it was clear we were moving up from friendship.
Now comes the part that I'd like more than anything to just skip, but alas, it is pretty important, so I'll brace myself and get over it. People of the internet, prepare to meet Miss Katie Darrow. It's pretty strange how much hatred I have for this girl and how blissfully unaware of it she is. But let me get this straight, I wasn't jealous of Katie. I didn't hate her because she had something with James. No, I hate her because she is a conniving spiteful whore and she ruined James.
Unfortunately, I don't have the stamina or patience to write about this manipulative bitch at the moment. But I promise I will. Later. I promise, and as you'll find out, promises mean the world to me.
Song of the moment:
All the Way- Cartel
Favorite lyrics from the song: "You needed me. I know you needed me"
