To whom it may concern

Dear mother, who thought that the incident was a fault of her poor parenting skills, because I should have known better.
Dear my so called friends, who sat by and let the incident happen, because who doesn't love to lose their virginity their first time getting drunk.
Dear same friends, who he following morning said "welcome to the slut club", because that's an award you should get in high school.
Dear friends of his, who told everyone at school the next day, because he needed another notch in his belt.
Dear girls at school, that tattooed "SLUT" across my forehead, because they didn't understand.
Dear girls, who taped "Slut" to my back, because they wouldn't say it to my face.
Dear teachers at school, who heard the rumors and did nothing but judge me, because at fifteen, I probably wanted it anyway.
Dear friend, who told me pills and booze would make the pain go away, because talking about it wasn't an option.

Dear rapist.

I. Am. A. Person.

I am not a plaything for you to exert your will upon. There was nothing that I 'should have known' to prevent the incident.
I didn't take you to court because I didn't think it would do anything. I assumed that the judge would find my basketball shorts and over-sized T-shirt to be considered "asking for it." If that had been the case, why didn't all of your friends try to rape me?
I didn't take you to court because I was scared of what people would think.
How could such a young promising girl let such a terrible thing happen to her?
How did such a young beautiful girl put herself in that position?

Blind trust and faith in humanity. That's my response.

I never asked to be "shushed" into submission and taken advantage of when I couldn't move.
I asked to get drunk for the first time with friends I had known for ages along with boys I'd known for years.

I was fifteen. In what world does a drunk fifteen year old signify sexual intercourse?

Oh right.
It doesn't.

[Untitled]

I miss Spain.

Late night insomnia

I really can't sleep lately. I've been stressed for approximately a month now. I don't know what to do.

I can't help but think it has something to do with my living arrangements. I never really had time to settle in and make my room my own. I'm not super happy with the layout... I miss grant street. It wasn't the best house, but it was a good one, and it felt like a home. This feels like four walls with a roof I can sleep under.

I just need to feel like I belong somewhere I think.

I'm slowly realizing that I might not want to be a teacher and that's what I've spent the last four years of my life studying to be.

In 2010 I had the crazy notion that I could teach english in spain based on one person that I met, and in order to do so, I had to major in Spanish. done.

Now I'm not so sure.

I don't know what I want, and I'm starting to envy my friends that are already in their niche, whether that be with babies and husbands, or broke and misguided, or just confident in their life choices. Maybe thats what I lack, confidence.

Shocker.

Dear Life,

Send me a new message, I get that I need confidence. I just need a quiet brain now.

M




Reasons why I'm super stressed:

-- Dying aunt
-- Money for school is looking rough.
-- Two jobs
-- Room mate issues (sort of)
-- No creative/physical outlet
-- Loud ass thoughts.




Someone help me. Please. I'm losing it.

Moving.

My lease is up, and i'm slowly packing.
I have this overwhelming urge to just run away from everything.
I want to go to the mountains or live in a tree and just get away from everything that I have. I just want to escape.

I want to breathe fresh air. I want to be able to sit and think, by myself. I want to live alone, but I can't.

I want to just be alone, dependent on myself and no one else.

I want to be me. I want to figure out who I've grown into and who I am.

I need to figure this out before I go crazy. I just want to be happy.

By myself. Out in the wilderness. Out there exploring.

I want to run away.

Why I like you so much.

Not many boys want to be my friend.

They normally meet me and automatically want to make something romantic out of our friendship/acquaintanceship.

It's never a friend zone kind of deal unless I set those boundaries clear from the get go.

But you, you never pushed it. If anything I did.

I remember the first time I met you, it was new year eve. You were so handsome, and so mysterious. So new and inviting. You were charming and tired all at once, new years eve. It was beautiful. I remember wanting to kiss you just for the sentimental sake of it it all, when Ted kissed Emily.

I remember that vividly.

I remember the next time we met, at Stooges. You were there with Grace, and I thought that the two of you might have had a thing.

It was right after I got back from Spain, much like New Years, but this time I was dressed up, and ready to be presented to the world... You didn't totally remember me then, but I remembered you. You and your beautiful blue eyes and your greek facial features.

I remember our next meeting being at a braves game, correct me if I'm wrong here, but it was the first game that got rained out. That was when I knew there was a physical attraction... can you deny it?

I remember that awkward first time... it was honestly, not the best I'd had, but it was something. You and I both can thank Fairoze for that encounter...

I remember the next time though... yet another braves game. After many weird facebook conversations.. It was that next time that really sealed the deal I think... We were both crazy drunk... broke your bead and had a hell of a fun time in the process. :)

That was fun.

Do you remember the next part?

Finally moving in?

I remember us trying to back track to just being friends... trying not to be too physical, and trying to keep things "behind closed doors"... Ha! Right.

That lasted all of like, a week or two.

I remember how awesome this is, and how effortless it really has been. And honestly I really hope it stays that way.

To me, you are my friend first and my lover second. The physical stuff is fantastic, but the way that you treat me as a person, and the way that you treat everyone... You're such a beautiful spirit. You have such a kind heart and good intentions. You have a good head on your shoulders, with goals and smarts and wit like crazy. You're awesome.

You're one of the best things that has ever happened to me, and I can't thank you enough for the happiness and wonder that you've brought into my life.

You're amazing. And honestly, you'll probably never know how much I like you... and that's probably why I like you so much.

Two weeks and counting.

This is my second week in the house, and it's been great.

We had a visitor from a mouse that was very short lived, a visit from a raccoon and absentee room mates for about a week.

Hopefully that will spark enough memory for me to recall the fact that I was stuck dog sitting for almost a week by myself... jesus.

Anyway, I really want to talk about tonight. About the growing that happened on my ride home from an extremely intense and interesting night.

I've started working at this new restaurant and I've not been too fond of it. I'm not making enough money to be content and I'm also not too thrilled by my coworkers. However, two of them have sparked my fancy. Said co workers invited me out for drinks tonight and while I was at work it seemed like a good idea, but when I got home all I wanted to do was sit on my butt and drink wine. (let the church say amen.)

At about 10:30, during a talk with one of my room mates I got a call telling me that everyone was heading out and that I should go. So, I went. It was all really fun for a minute and then one of the coworkers got a little handsy. While this wasn't completely enjoyed it also wasn't completely hated, so I permitted it to continue.

As the night progressed, kisses happened, hugs happened etc.

This led to the ever dreaded confession of "I like you." No. Nonono. It's fun to mess around, but the second that you tell me you like me I'm completely uninterested.

Seriously. I can't handle it.

I don't want emotions right now. I don't want feelings.

I want feelings for one person, but even those, I don't want recpirocated. Do I?


This rant is an emotional one, and I'm sorry for it.

I just can't figure out why I can't accept it when people tell me they like me. What in the world is wrong with me to where I can't accept affection? Why is it so hard for me?


WHY?!

Big Girl Panties.

I'm starting this new life.

I'm being a grown up. I'm living on my own officially. I'm in a house with three amazing room mates, in a fantastic location, in a great city. My home, Atlanta.

I'm taking care of myself like I never have before. I've found a place on my schools rowing team like I've never had before.

... I'm still watching disney movies and making a damn fool of myself, but I'm doing it on my own now, without the help of my family and friends. For the most part at least.

:)

But I'm moved in and already taking care of myself in a very grown up way I think.

Here it goes.

Stay tuned for successes and failures.

After getting lost in Italy for a few hours, I think I can handle anything Atlanta has to throw my way.

<3

Laters.