Lonely on a Friday Night

   Ah, the single life of an eighteen year old. How exciting. Not really.

   I'll admit it, I have no boyfriend. Because having a boyfriend immediately means having drama.

   No, that's not really why I don't have a boyfriend. I don't not have a boyfriend by choice. I would like to have boyfriend, but I'm just not ready for a relationship right now (unless, of course, it's with Steve).

   I actually had a date last weekend, but I chickened out and told him I had to go to a dinner at my parents church. Which was true, for the most part. I didn't have to go, but I wanted to and it was a good excuse for not going on a date with a guy that I really wasn't even interested in. Let me tell you the story of how I got roped into saying yes that I would go out with a guy that I didn't know and I highly doubt I would have liked.

   It all started out when my oldest sister, Michaela, met this kid that worked at her local Walmart. She started telling him about me and told me about him and she even took a picture of him so she could show me what he looks like. I could tell immediately that he just wasn't really going to be my type. He looked like he was kinda skinny and I don't like skinny guys. I like to be able to feel my man.

   Well, anyway, so she even got his number so she could give it to me but she never ended up giving it to me. So one night, my other older sister, Paula, and I were at that Walmart that the guy works at and we saw him and we creeped on him for a good fifteen minutes. Paula kept telling me to go talk to him and shit and after about five minutes she gave up on that and was just like "whatever, you're not gonna talk to him" even though I was constantly saying I would talk to him. She thought I was too scared to go up to him and say something and I thought I was too because I am super shy. So finally, I was just like okay, I can do this, and I walked up to him and talked to him for a minute. He got my number and Paula and I left.

   A couple of days later he called me and asked me if I wanted to go out on Sunday. I told him yeah, just because I couldn't think of a way to kindly tell him that I actually wasn't interested and I only talked to him in the first place to prove to Paula and myself that I could do something that put me far out of my comfort zone.So I told him yes, and then Sunday morning I texted him and told him I couldn't go out with him. He called me later that day but I ignored it because I didn't know what to say to him. I felt bad for ignoring him but, ya know, I just can't do it. And besides, it would be breaking one of my dating rules. He was shy. I can't go out with a guy that's just as shy as I am. It just wouldn't work out.

   So this is me, being single, on a Friday night. Damn, it sucks.  

Six Months? Pfft, Don't Make Me Laugh

   Sometimes I wonder if I could go back in time and change everything and not have ever met him, Steve, would I change it all? Would I give up knowing him so I wouldn't have to go through what I am now? Or would I keep it the way it is? Would I rather have known him, loved him and lost him, or not ever have known him at all and never known real love?

   I think I would keep things the way they are but sometimes, I also almost kinda wish I had never even met him. If I had never met him, then I wouldn't have any inhibitions about dating other guys and maybe I would be more satisfied with my life like I was before I met him.

   Before I met him, I wanted a boyfriend really bad. I even went out with this one guy that I only kinda liked just to say I'd had a boyfriend. We dated a month and a half before I broke up with him. He was my first kiss and in my opinion, it was horrible and he just made it even worse by implying that I wasn't even all that good at kissing. And I felt nothing at all when he kissed me. I mean, I didn't expect to see fireworks or anything like that, but I just thought I would feel something. The kiss was weird and . . . I don't know, I just totally wasn't into it. And when we broke up I still didn't wanna go right out and get another boyfriend but I knew there would be other guys. I knew I still wanted to date.

   But then I met Steve and when he kissed me, it made me feel. It wasn't horrible at all. It was amazing. I was kinda scared that he would think I was bad at kissing too and I didn't want to disappoint him because I know he's been around, but he didn't put me down. He built me up. He told me I was really good at it and I don't know which one was right but I like to think Steve is. But the point is, Steve's kisses weren't totally awful. His were so nice and I didn't want to just push him away like I wanted to do with my first boyfriend. Steve made my heart beat faster. And when we were separated, I felt like I would never find another guy as amazing as he was. It's been almost six months since I've even seen him and I still don't think I'm ready to date anyone else. Guys have asked for my number and I give it to them, hoping that maybe I'll really go out with them and they can help me get over him, but things never work out. I always back away because I know I can't do it. I don't want to date anyone else. I know I was never officially dating him but it felt like we were together and he thought we were (but he never really asked me out so it was never really official) and he was so great. I don't think I'll ever find anyone like him.

   I think I'm ruined. I think he ruined me for other guys. I don't want to see anyone but Steve. He made me feel. He made me happy too, for the most part. He showed me what it feels like to be in love. I know he doesn't love me back, but I still love him. It hurts to not ever see him or hang out with him anymore.
  
   I still talk to him sometimes on Facebook. He invited me to move to Omaha with him again. He tells me he still has feelings for me and he wishes I was closer so we could be together again. I think it's best this way, with over a hundred miles between us. That way there is no chance of us running into each other and I deactivated my Facebook account so I hopefully won't talk to him anymore and maybe I can move on a little bit quicker.

   I heard it takes about six months to get over someone, but if that's really true, then why are my feelings for him not fading? Six months, my ass. Puhleeze. It takes a helluva lot longer than six months to get over someone you gave your virginity too. Someone you spent hours with almost every single day. Someone who became your best, non-relative, friend. Someone you came to love. Six months? Pfft, don't make me laugh.

He Was Special

   There was just something about him. Something about the way he smiled. The way he laughed. The way that he always encouraged me to talk more like he actually wanted to hear what I had to say.

   I don't know . . . There was just something about him. Something different. Something special.

   I remember when we used to work together and he and one of the other guys would always say something about me, trying to get a rise out of me, but I was never really paying attention and I never heard what they said. Or when he would check me out and he always thought I didn't notice.

   I loved his reaction when he found out I didn't like people to cuss around me, because he had a dirty mouth. The look on his face was priceless. Every time he would cuss around me after that he always gave me permission to hit him. I never did. But he got a lot better at not cussing around me.

   And I remember when, once upon a time, he and his cousin were afraid to smoke pot around me. I think I liked it better when he didn't do it around me. I mean, yeah, I've thought about doing it and I maybe might even want to try it to, but . . . I don't know, I just kind of felt like he was disrespecting me when he did it around me. I never said anything though, so it's not like I ever asked him to not do it while I was around and he still did. So he wasn't really disrespecting me, but it just felt that way sometimes.

   He was special though. He still is. I don't think I'll ever forget him. I probably won't ever see him again now that he moved to Omaha but I won't ever forget him.

   He could make me smile when I was having a bad day and just wanted to give up. He made me want to be myself. He made me wonder what love was like. He made me want to do things that were exciting and new.

   If I could go back in time and not ever have worked at McDonalds and met him and gone through all of the shit that I've been put through, I wouldn't do it. I wouldn't change a damn thing. Because for all of the shit that my sister and her husband made me go through for being with him, I still love him. And I wouldn't give up that love for anything. I think I would rather have loved and lost than not ever have known that love at all.

It Felt Like A Job

   It felt like a fucking job.

   The first time I had sex I was trashed and I don't know how "with it" I was. I had drank WAY too much that night and I was so drunk I was stumbling around. And it hurt but I was drunk so the pain didn't matter too much. I wanted to make him happy. I wanted to be happy. I wanted to feel his love. I know what you're thinking though. Sex doesn't mean you love each other. I know that. I just thought that maybe if I gave in like he wanted me to, he would like me more, ya know? Pretty sure it didn't make him like me any more.

   But yeah, so I did it with him. And then I just felt like after I'd done it with him once, I had to keep doing it. I know I didn't have to and I could have told him no, but the truth is, I didn't want to tell him no because I just wanted to feel his touch, his kisses. And I thought it would be unfair of me to do it once and then tell him no after that.

   So I kept putting out. It didn't make him love me. It didn't make him like me any more than he did before. It didn't change anything really. And it felt like something I had to do so it wasn't even fun. It felt like a job. It felt like a fucking job.

Still Wondering...

   Once upon a time (back in '09) I would say a prayer every single night before I would go to bed (that was back when I still said my prayers like a good religious daughter) and every night I prayed for the same thing. I prayed that I would meet my future husband around Christmas that year and I wouldn't fall for him immediately, like I do with a lot of the guys I've liked, but instead, we would just be friends for a while. And after a while we could grow closer and realize that we didn't just love each other as friends anymore, but that we shared a love that was greater than friendship.

   It was nearing Christmas and I still hadn't met anybody new. But then, as I was giving up hope that I would meet him that year, my brother came home from the Army and brought his buddy with him. I came home December 26th from staying with my sister in Iowa and I met my brother's friend. He was cute. He was nice. He had an amazing voice and a Texas accent. And he had a nice ass.

   And I figured my sister, Paula, had already laid claims to him. He was a few months older than her and she seemed to like him a lot. She went to the store with him. She even got his number. All the while, I stood back and teased her about him. I told her she should go out with him and listed off the things they had in common.

   He was so cute, but I didn't even think about my prayers until sometime later and I remembered how I used to pray to meet a guy either on Christmas or around it.

   My brother, Tim, came home again for the New Year on leave and brought the guy with him again. And after they left again a couple of days later, I never saw Tim's friend again. But Paula gave me his number so I could text him too. I did. He even called me one night when he was partying with some friends. He asked me how I was doing and tried to get me to promise him that I wouldn't join the Air Force like I'd dreamed of doing because he didn't want to see me end up like him--being miserable and drinking too much. I couldn't promise him anything and I didn't say much at all because I'm a shy girl and don't say much anyway. But I liked listening to his voice for the few minutes that we talked.

   I haven't talked to him in a while now. Last time we talked was a while ago. I think about him sometimes and wonder how he's doing. He was shipped overseas back in January I think it was. I don't know if he's back now or what. I haven't seen him on Facebook lately. I might message him just to see how he is.

   I mentioned to Paula, after a while, about my prayers and then meeting him. I told her I wondered if maybe it meant something or was just a coincidence. She said it was possible. I told a friend about it to and she said God probably brought him into my life for a reason but not as my future husband. I still wonder sometimes . . . I know, I'm not one of God's biggest fans right now, but I can't help but wonder. What if this guy really is the one? I'm sure he's not, but you never know. That would be a weird coincidence.

   Talking to Tim, I discovered that Nix, that's the guy's name, talked about me before. He told Tim I'm the type of girl that someone would marry. I think that's odd for him to say something like that, but it brought up the question in my mind again, what if he's the one? I told Tim that was weird for him to say and asked why he would say that. Tim just told me to ask Nix about it. I doubt he would even remember saying that. Or even remember me.

   In my prayers I even listed specific things about this guy so I would know he's the one. He would wear a ball cap and cowboy boots. Nix wore a ball cap and cowboy boots. That made me wonder even more. Could it be just a coincidence? Or do coincidences even exist?

Dating Rules

   Okay, so I'll admit it, lately I've been trying to find somebody to um, keep company with. I get lonely and guys are fun. They're cute (some of them) and funny (some of them) and, best yet, kissable (again, some of them). And yes, I am kind of, sort of, maybe looking for a boyfriend. So I've decided to lay down some rules before I start dating. 

1. - Do NOT date anybody from work

2. - Don't date guys you know from church (they're all hypocrites and fake religion because they think you're into it)

3. - Don't date anybody younger than you (because guys take longer to mature anyway, so dating a younger guy would most likely mean dating an even more immature guy)

4. - He has to have his license and, preferrably, his own car

5. - He totally has to have a job

6. - He shouldn't be shy (because I'm shy, and that wouldn't work out too great...)

7. - He should like being outdoors (because I don't like being cooped up inside all the time)

and last, but definitely not least,

8. - He must always be himself, no matter who is around (unless it's your parents :p)

And these are my rules for dating.

Oh Shit, I'll Have to Give Him A Sweater

   I was watching Gilmore Girls the other day and Rory was having dinner with her grandparents and a pastor and her grandparents made up dumb excuses to leave them alone together so the pastor guy could talk to her about how special her virginity is and blah blah blah. She told him she had already sailed that boat a long time ago and he was disappointed. He said she would have to give the man she married a sweater because she can't give him her virginity.

   That made me realize that "oh shit, I'm gonna have to give the guy I marry a sweater". Not really, of course, but still . . . Would the wedding night really have been even extra special if I hadn't ever done it before? Or would it be the same as if I had, except for the fact that I would probably be a nervous wreck? I don't know. And I guess, I never will now.

   But I'm not going to spend time worrying about it. I have enough to worry about without adding that to the list. What's done is done and there's no going back to undo it, so you just have to move forward, right?

Once Upon A Time . . .

   Once upon a time, there was a girl and she was raised in a Christian home with over-protective parents and six sisters and two brothers. She was a middle child. She was shy and very reserved. She was far from content.

   Then came the day that, at the age of seventeen, she moved to another state to live with her older sister for the summer. She got a part-time job working as a cook at a fast food restaurant and she met a guy. He was the complete opposite of her. His parents were no longer together and he wasn't raised in a religious home. He was outgoing and had bad habits. He was the youngest child in his family. He didn't seem to be content either.

   She could not stand him the moment she met him but by the end of that night, she knew he was going to be her favorite coworker. They were so different but she didn't mind too much. He had the freedom she had always wished for. He was everything she had never dared to wish to be.

   He gave her his number and they communicated a lot for the next couple of months. She could not stop herself from falling in love with him. She hadn't even realized that it had happened until late autumn and by then, it was too late to try to turn back. She was in love with him and she knew there was no changing that.

   She moved back to her parents' home and lost contact with the guy for several months. When spring rolled around, she moved back to her sister's place and ran into him. She was still in love with him and when he invited her to go fishing with him and his friend, she agreed immediately.

   As they hung out more and more often she found herself falling even deeper in love with him. Then one night, while she was drunk and about to pass out on a picnic table at a park, he came over to her and sat down at the table. He had to keep her from passing out because if she didn't go home that night her brother-in-law (who did not approve of her newfound love) would have been upset. She could barely keep her head up and she knew there was only one thing to keep her from passing out in a park. So she kissed the guy and they sat there, making out for several minutes before he wanted to take things further. She told him no the first few times he asked but when he asked for the fourth time or so, she finally gave in. She wanted to make him happy and she didn't want to pass out. And so she gave him her gift.

   The next day, she was disgusted with herself. Not for letting it happen. She didn't regret that at all. But for letting it happen in a park. She didn't want her first time to be in a park on a wooden bench that was as uncomfortable as you can possibly imagine.

   He told her he loved her. And she liked hearing him say it, but she knew it wasn't true and never once dared to tell him that she really did love him. Not until after she had moved away again and one night, in a drunken haze, messaged him, telling him how she really felt about him. She confessed her love for him and he told her it was hard for him to fall in love. She didn't want him to say he loved her too because she knew it wouldn't be true, but neither did she want to hear him say that it was too hard for him to love anyone.

   And so, as the months slowly dragged on, she found herself wishing that her heart could once again belong to her. She missed him more than she had ever missed anyone in her entire life and she knew she couldn't ever forget him. He was her first true love and she still misses him. She heard the heartache should only last six months but she knows that isn't true. The heartache will last forever. He made her feel whole, and without him, she will never be complete.

   This is not the end of the story, but she will let you know when she is completely healed and finally whole again.

I Really Wanna Go To Omaha!!

   So a couple of days ago I was talking to that guy that I told I love (somehow, that did not scare him from talking to me) and I mentioned that I was going to be going out of state soon for a weekend to visit my nieces and we should go fishing while I'm up there. He replied with I should just move up there and live with him and go to Omaha with him.

   I wanted to agree to it. I wanted so badly to agree to it. I've always thought it would be so exciting to go on a roadtrip (which would be the drive to Iowa) or to just pack up and run off with a guy that I might or might not love. And lately things have just been kind of stressful with work and shit. I just wanted to say yes, that I would move in with him and go with him to Omaha.

   It's been a few days now since he asked me to go with him and I said no and we haven't talked since. I want to say something to him but I don't know what to say. I want to tell him I've changed my mind and I do want to be with him in Omaha. But I can't tell him that. What if he wasn't serious in his invitation? What if he doesn't really want to be with me but just wants to be nice to me after what I told him? What if he thinks I'm some stupid, clingy, recently-not-a-virgin bitch that doesn't want to let go of him after we had sex? I don't want to be that girl. I feel like I am, but I fell in love with him long before we even kissed so I'm not really that girl, am I? Maybe just a clingy bitch, well, and the part about not being a virgin, but I've tried to let him go. I've tried not talking to him, but he was my best friend when I was living in Iowa and I told him everything that even after I moved to Missouri, I still wanted to tell him everything and even though I told myself I wouldn't text him, I did. I missed him and I still miss him and I still want to tell him every little exciting or funny thing that happens to me. But I don't do that anymore because I really am trying to let him go.

   But dammit, I still want to tell him I've changed my mind and will go with him. I can't do that though, right? I mean, yeah, he invited me but was he really sincere in his offer? I could always ask him if it still stands because I really want to get away from things here for awhile, but what if it didn't and then I would just feel even more stupid. Maybe I should just leave it alone. Maybe I should just try my hardest to leave him alone.

Love? Damn, It Sucks

   So I admitted one night recently to a guy that I love him and would you like to know how I told him? In a message. Yep. In a message. On Facebook. I messaged him and told him I loved him. What a brilliant way to tell someone you're in love with them. NOT.

   I was drunk and I've been in love with him for so long and I never told him before because I didn't want to hear him say that he loved me too when I would know that he didn't really mean it. But, in my drunken state of boldness and stupidity, I sent him a message on Facebook, telling him I was drunk and I met somebody but oh, this guy was nothing compared to him and that I loved him. Yeah, I felt pretty dumb the next day. And somewhat embarrassed.

   It might have been somewhat okay if I had messaged him when I wasn't drunk. It would have been best though if I had just either never told him, or at least had the decency to tell him in person. Instead, I messaged it to him while I was drunk, and now I feel like the stupid, clingy girl that doesn't want to let go of the guy she lost her virginity to.

   So pretty much, I made a fool of myself by sending that message. He said it was okay though and that it meant a lot to him but it's hard for him to fall in love. Ya think it's not hard for me to fall in love? Damn. It's pretty fucking hard for me to fall in love too, that's what makes this so hard for me. I don't "fall in love". Ever. Well, I didn't. I guess, I do now. I don't even know how I came to love him. I just did. I knew there was something special about him and . . . I don't know, I just slowly fell in love with him.

   I fell in love with a guy that doesn't love me back. Of course, something like that would happen to me. I don't have good luck with guys.

   When I get my heart back, remind me to never lose it again, okay?

I Have a Confession to Make

   I am not what I may seem to be.

   I appear shy and reserved. I appear polite and sweet. I appear to be the good girl that doesn't swear or do anything too bad. But there is something you should know about me.  That's not who I really am.

   Yes, I'm very shy when I first meet people. I can be sweet and I try to be polite. But I am not the good girl. I was, but this year changed me. Actually, I think the changes began last year. Last summer, when I met him and realized I didn't want to force myself to be good anymore.

   I changed. I started drinking. The new year rolled in and I found myself wanting to celebrate with him instead of sitting at home. Spring rolled around and I got what I wanted. I started hanging out with him and we had fun. I started drinking more. Then came summer and I picked up cussing. I drank even more and watched him do drugs, wishing I was brave enough to do them too. I made out with him in his bed while his buddy was in the room with us. I lost my virginity to him one night at a park when I was wasted. I would have done drugs with him except for the fact that he had to work that day and I was moving two hours away and if my parents had picked me up while I was high, they would have killed me. And I never have been able to get enough alcohol since the night we drank a bottle of Jack.

   I am not the good girl I may seem to be. No, I am not one of those bad girls that do drugs and are promiscuous, but I am not good. I am far from good and I plan to get farther from it. I am young, so why not be wild now? I want to live life and enjoy it to the fullest.

A Little Bit Stronger

   Sometimes the hardest part of loving someone is letting them go.

   I'm going through that right now. I've grown to love a friend of mine but I know he doesn't feel the same way about me. So I have to let him go. And it's so hard. I'm used to texting him almost every day and hanging out with him all the time, but now we're two hours apart and I'm trying not to text him because even when I do, he rarely replies back to me and I end up feeling like I'm worthless when that happens. I don't like feeling that way. I don't like that a guy can make me feel that way.

   He means so much to me. He's my best friend (that's not related to me anyway). I told him things I didn't tell anyone else. And I grew to love him. We've only known each other for about 13 months now, but it's true. I love him.

   I realized I was in love with him one day when I just saw a completely random picture of him. And I thought to myself "I love him" and just smiled to myself, and then I realized what I had thought and kinda laughed at myself. I don't ever say I'm in love with a guy because it's not ever true. So when I said thought that, I just wondered if maybe it was true. And I told myself over and over again that it wasn't true. That I didn't really love him. But now, I know it has to be true. I wouldn't still feel like this about him if I didn't love him.

   If I didn't love him, I wouldn't feel like shit because he ignores my texts. I wouldn't think about him every day. I wouldn't still be able to laugh at things he said or did a year ago. I wouldn't still like him.

   If I didn't love him, by this time, I would hate him. Because that's what I do. If I'm in a relationship with a guy and it doesn't work out, I make myself hate him so I can get over him more quickly. But I can't make myself hate this guy. I've tried. Believe me, I've tried. But I can't. No matter what, I can't hate him. He means too much to me. I can't make myself hate someone that I love. It can't happen. And I love him.

   I don't know how I'm supposed to go through the rest of my life without him, but it's going to have to work. I hope someday I can move on. I hope someday he finds love with someone as special as he is. I hope I can stay strong and not try to force anything with him because I already know that it's not ever going to work for us. It doesn't matter if he keeps saying he hopes we can be together again someday, it's not going to happen. I have to keep telling myself that. I have to stay strong.

   It's like Sara Evans's song, "A Little Bit Stronger". I'll keep getting a little bit stronger, even though it's hard and right now it hurts.

I hate family drama

   So last month my mom and I got in a pretty big fight with my older sister and her
husband. Well, actually my whole family pretty much got involved in it. My mom and I just
said the most compared to everyone else.
  
   It was all pretty ridiculous and I didn't talk to them for over a month. I texted my sister a
couple of nights ago though and it was something I shouldn't have sent, though I meant
every word of it. Knowing I shouldn't have sent that text, I called my sister the next night
and told her I realized I shouldn't have sent it and I was sorry but it was how I felt and I
wasn't apologizing for saying it, just for sending it.

   If it's how I feel and I was going to tell her, I should have called her instead of texting it
to her. But anyway, I called and apologized for sending it and she talked to me for a
minute then passed the phone to her husband. I want nothing to do with him ever again.

   He apologized for the things that he said to me and for losing his temper and now it's like they think everything is normal between us again.

   I've got news for them: It's NOT.

   Our relationship won't ever be the same again. I lost all respect for them. I still don't want to talk to them. I especially do not want to talk to him. They have no idea how
those things that he said to me, effected me. I was angry. I was hurt. And I was
humiliated. If you make me cry, then you know you've really upset me because I don't cry
unless it's over sad books and movies.

   I trusted them and told them things I thought they would never tell anyone and then we
got in a fight and they yelled it in front of everyone. No, I do not trust them any longer.
It's going to be a really long time before I ever trust them enough to tell them secrets
again . . . if I ever confide in them again.


   We are not okay. They need to realize that I can't just put that all behind me. They can't
come into my home and disrespect my mother and me and then expect everything to be
okay when they apologize to me. No, they need to apologize to my mother. And even when they do, things still won't be okay. Not for a very long time.