Everytime I hear this damn song, I think about him.
And how I haven’t heard from him since July.
Things just aren’t the same anymore, and sadly, they never will be.

I know I should just go on with my life, but he was the one who claimed to “love me”, who wanted to be with me, who pursued and pursued. I don’t understand.

Usually, I can just say “see ya” and move on. But he was a little bit different. Things were good, things were great, things were supposed to work out in favor of both of us. I don’t even know if he is still going to Medical School, if he is even in St. Louis or if he stayed at home like I always knew he would be doing.

He was the first one I truly fell for, the one person that I thought “Hm.. maybe he could be the one.” I was so wrong, and I’m disappointed in him. I’ve tried to call, tried to email, tried to IM. He’s gone. He ran to a place that I can never find. He is out of my life, and probably will be forever.

I want it back.

I prefer sleeping in my comfy bed over writing in Xanga right now.
Sunday I am starting the South Beach diet. I need to lose 15 pounds by October 14.
No alcohol for 2-4 weeks, with the exception of Fall Family Weekend.
How ironic?
Anyways, no carbs. Mostly meat, eggs, and veggies. And water. Lots of that.
I’m stoked.
Riding tonight at 5 p.m.
LEAD event with Whitney at 7 p.m.
Homework after? Possibly. More than likely it is going to be shower, dinner, sleep. In that order.
I got a scholarship today but I don’t know how or why I got it. Who knows.
Life is grand. So are my friends.
Huzzah.

Oh baby, I lied.     Got feelings for you I can’t hide.     So sad, but it’s true.     I lost my mind when I lost you.     Don’t look at me that way.     It’s hard, but I can’t let you stay.     We both know where it leads.     I have to let you go.     It’s over we both know.      And ‘I’m sorry’ won’t fix us this time.      Words won’t help to hear what hurts you.      I did what I had to do.      So, don’t start crying - I’ll start crying.     My heart’s broken too.

I’m releasing you into the world and not allowing you hinder me anymore. This is the last straw; today was the last day I got up and gave you the liberty of taking away my happiness. Remember those letters I told you that I wrote to you but never let you see? I lost those somewhere. I’m sure I’ll find them and be reminded of your horrendous acts towards me, but they will not push me into depression like they used to.

Dear [you],

Here is your last letter from me, the last time I will ever write to you or about you. I know you cannot imagine the pain you put me through, but even this is hard – this letting go, this release of your hold on me, this solemn vow that I will do my best to *forget* about you. The worst part is that a part of my heart still thinks it loves you. That tiny piece is still tricked into believing that you actually cared about me at one point in our “relationship.”

I was addicted to you; I needed you to breathe and live – you become my drug. When you decided that you didn’t want me around anymore, I think I almost died from withdrawal. It was scary; here I was, drowning in my own pool of tears. You came a couple of times and picked up, only to drop me a couple steps later to continue my drowning.

Soon I was so deep, I couldn’t breathe. I was stuck, flailing, hoping that someone – anyone – would come along and give me a hand. Instead, the people I needed kept walking by, watching as I spiraled even further down. They abandoned me; you abandoned me; the people I thought loved me and I loved back were standing right there, watching it all, not doing or saying anything. They fucking watched me gurgle and ask for help, only to shove me further down.

And then I hit rock bottom, possibly the scariest moment in my life. I had nowhere to go, but at least I couldn’t fall any further. I looked around and all I saw was darkness; I could see your face looking down at me – smirking, not caring, possibly pointing and laughing. Thank you. I smited you, hated you, hoped you could experience what I was currently experiencing.

Free flowing tears led to action. I decided that at this point,  I was the only one who could help me. There were some people who now decided they could help – but I was unreachable, and frankly, I didn’t want their help. I let myself go, let myself float to the top, and when I found the surface, I came up fighting.

So, here you go. Take these chains and give them to the next girl you want to screw over. Take this piece of my heart that wants to keep loving you. Take all the pain and hurt you have caused me and bury it. Do something with it. I want you out of my life – your images, your words, your “kind actions”, all the shit you gave me.

‘Bye, [you].

---

This is the first step of many; I hate that my past haunts me. Time to get rid of some it. It might define me, but I don’t want some of it to be my “defining parts” – they are way too horrible.

Kate

From Feith-

7 places I want to go before I die:
1. Ireland (I’m going next fall! Weee.)
2. Australia (with my Mommy)
3. Paris
4. All 50 states of the America (I have Florida, Indiana, Illinois, Missouri, Ohio, South Dakota, Tennessee, Kentucky, Georgia, and Massachusetts knocked down – after Spring Break, I’ll have gone to California – )
5. China
6. Mexico
7. Europe – a backpacking trip (‘cuz how sweet would that be?)

7 things I can do:
1. ride horses pretty well
2. drink with the best of them
3. coordinate outfits for other people, as well as for myself
4. write
5. sleep until after noon
6. spend all my money quickly
7. laugh loudly

7 things I cannot do:
1. sing
2. take a shower under 10 minutes
3. budget my time
4.  return phone calls in a prompt manner
5. go one day without missing my horsies
6. keep the sheets neatly on my bed (I move too much when I sleep)
7. keep my room clean

7 things that attract me to the opposite sex:
1. hands
2. the way they carry themselves
3. confidence with a touch of arrogance
4. hardworking
5. a slight roughness about them
6. like horses
7. honesty

7 things I say most often:
1. peace out
2. the word “llama” used whenever and wherever
3. ho – as in, “stop”
4. i mean
5. heyyyy
6. you are pissing me off!
7. i’m tired/i’m sore/i hate my life

7 celebrity crushes:
1. Vin Diesel
2. Johnny Depp
3. Matthew McConahauy (or whatever…)
4. Kate Hudson (she’s fucking beautiful)
5. Brad Pitt
6. ?
7. ?

Thanks for the email. It helped brighten this already horrible day.

… but I just stapled my finger. Seriously, it fucking hurts.

… but on the bright side, tonight is the season premiere of Survivor. An indulgence that many people either don’t know about or dislike. Blah.

… I still have tons of work to do, I don’t feel like doing it, and my spirits are way low.

… You know what I hate? The fact that I have such a hard time getting up, and I end up shutting off my alarm while I am still sleeping and wake up way past the time I was supposed to take a test. Fuck.

Today sucks. Hardcore.

Here I am, complaining about my life when people down in New Orleans are still suffering from the hurricane. I’m so selfish. At least I am alive, and healthy, and have food and water. Damn, I really am selfish.

P.S. You all don’t know how BADLY I want to go down to New Orleans on a mission trip of sorts and help those people. It’s killing me that I can’t.

I should give up my major and just work for the Red Cross. Woo.

[No one reads when I write more than a couple of paragraphs.. but I will give this one a try and see what comes from it.]

I’ve never been the kind to ever let my feelings show
And I thought that being strong meant never losing self control…

Someone once told me that I was not strong enough to love, that I did not have enough strength to actually put forth the effort to have that feeling and give it back to someone. I can sometimes be an extremely emotionless person. I can seem rude, stuck-up, snobby, and full of myself. I think that often that is because I hold such high expectations for people. I try to surround myself with friends who reflect upon me the type of person I am or want to be. I cannot stand liars, cheaters, or people who are only out for themselves. I am a very independent woman who has grown up fast over the past year or so. I sometimes fall, and I have to pick myself up, but since high school I have changed into a mature, smart woman who knows what she wants.

I remember the days when I was so immature. High school was rough for me – I acted merely off instinct instead of taking the time to actually think things through. There are still days where that instinct kicks in and I do something stupid. But after failing so many times, and disappointing those who look at me to find something great, I have come to realize that I need to get my stuff done to be a great person.

My mother said to my sisters and I one day, “You can choose to be a good person, or an excellent one.” I choose excellence. I will become the best in everything that I do, even if that means extra work on my part. I often take a while to learn something, to catch onto it. It is just the way I learn. I have to do things over and over again to understand what I am doing. I have to rewrite things, reread things, and I can’t do things in a group sometimes. I like to study alone most of the time. I like to be in my element and just do what I have to do.

I have let my go a couple times this year, getting carried with things I do or say. I am not perfect and have never claimed to be. I just sometimes trip, fall, smash my face on the ground. But then I climb back up and keep on moving. Life is hard; it will throw roadblocks.

One of the biggest things I have been dealing with is the past. I seem to keep looking back at it – wishing I could have changed parts of it, hoping that things did or did not happen. I struggle to not break down every day of my life. I sometimes am rocked by nightmares, only to wake up sweating and almost in tears. I do not want him back in my life, but I am haunted by his face and the abuse that I put myself through for two years. I am wrestling with things that were not closed off or tied up, and I would do anything to just let go of everything. I want to forget about it, to finally break away from the holds I feel still on my wrists. The chains drag on the ground as I walk, the feeling of not being good enough resounds in my head.

I let him take me places I never really wanted to go. I regret it. I want to be clean, I want to be different, I want to be a woman who is proud of herself. I cannot feel that right now. I put myself through so much pain, and I have been holding on for so long. It is hindering my growth a person, and I cannot find anyone to share my life with because of the demons that are crawling on my back.

I used to be happy every day of my life. I am still happy, but sometimes it is so faked. Some mornings I feel like crying, feel like collapsing in the shower in tears.

I have become someone I don’t even recognize. I seem harsh, and my life feels unfulfilling. My heart beats of minimal love, only living in the hope that one day someone will come along to open it up again. I’m scared of letting myself like someone to the point of falling so hard. I am scared. My fear overtakes what used to be my willingness.

Where did my sun go?

Let go of my pain
To hell with this pride
Let it fall like rain from my eyes
Tonight I wanna cry…

I have a busy week ahead of me. Not only do I have classes, but we are doing DG Anchorsplash (and I’m in charge of TWO events), and it is hardcore gym time starting this week. Yeah. You heard me right. The gym. Tomorrow I am getting up at 6:45 and doing an hour of cardio before class at 9. Thankfully, Courtney is going too. I see some bonding time developing soon.

Anyways, California is where I’m going for Spring Break. I’m so excited that nothing I can say can portray my excitement. I’m calling airlines tomorrow to find out ticket prices (I don’t trust internet prices). It will be a great nine days, plus the second full day we are there is my 20th birthday.

My keeper finally called me. Today. Not sufficient considering I got her message around six p.m. tonight. No hours for Kate this week; I better not get in trouble.

I had such a great week this past week and I hope it can carry into this week. That would rock – I love all my sisters here at Chi Omega, and I’m not sure what I would be doing if I wasn’t here in this house. I love it here. Yay.

I think I have decided where I want to go for work next summer. I just need to contact them. It would rock. And yeah. Hell yeah.

I’m tired.
‘Night.
–Kate

Well. Stuff is going good, I guess. The only thing that seems to be really bothering me is that I have called and left notes for my keeper and she has yet to call or contact me back. If I get a bad grade this week just because of her, I will flip my lid twenty thousand times over. It is not my fault that she is not upholding her end of the bargain. An email must be sent to my teacher tomorrow.

My room is also a complete mess. I just cleaned it yesterday. Fucking room just decides to explode every other day. That and I don’t know how to keep things clean worth my damn life.

Tina and I went on a “shopping spree” at WalMart tonight. We went to the Post Office for dinner, and then decided we couldn’t make the movie we planned on going to.. and hopped on over to Wally World. Yeah. Bad idea. We were there for over an hour and I proceeded to buy not only the things I went there for (laundry detergent – because someone used all of mine, and ranch dressing for my celery). I got two pairs of shoes, sports bras, craft supplies (scrapbook, paint, paintbrushes, things for Owl Pals, etc.), Wite-Out (oddly enough, they carded me to make sure I was 18. I mean, yeah, I look like a person that would sniff Wite-Out for a high…), permanent markers, water, and.. yeah. We took awesome pictures in the hunting aisles. Bwahahaha.

I’m tired. I have SO MUCH to do tomorrow. I have to finish my Psych notes tomorrow, do my Equine Anatomy take home test, read for Theory, read Chapter 6 for Entreprenuership, and I’m pretty sure I have tons more to do. Plus, cleaning my room. Booo. Maybe I’ll do that tonight before I get into bed.

I’m sleeping in tomorrow. Until forever. Yeah. I’m excited.

I had a good weekend. I love my Chi Omega sisters. And in March, I’m gonna have one helluva birthday party, right Tina?

–Kate

Describe a ‘first’ in your life. (Caz’s ToD)

I creaked the door open, only to be hit by a smell so pugnent and overwhelming I reeled back for a moment. But my heart desired to go in, so with a small push from my mother and my instinct I kept moving forward. My mom complained about the smell and the mess but she kept a smile on her face as we made our way down the outside aisle. I was a mere seven years old. I was young and naive, as well as impressionable and ready to start new things. My small hands were filled to the brim with something that I would be buying in bulk over ten years later, little did I know at the time.

As we walked, dirt was kicked up on my tennis shoes. I loved it. I took everything in – the wood, the bugs, even the smell. I fell in love with that smell. My mom had her hand on my back as we walked. I wanted to skip and play and have fun. I wanted to learn.

Then we stopped. To our left was the most magnificent creature I had ever laid my eyes on. The name of that creature escapes me now, but it was probably the most significant and life-changing moment of my life. I stretched out my hand and ran it along the neck of the brown animal. With my other hand, I extended a peppermint.

The horse.

It was the first time I had ever been in close contact with the animal I would spend the rest of my days working with. The animal that I would grow to love and hate at the same time. The animal that would become the one thing I could never give up for fear that I wouldn’t feel the same anymore.

Here I sit, twelve years later, wondering what I would be doing if I didn’t work with horses. I remember that first time so well, it is like it happened yesterday. My life revolves around horses and everything that has to do with them. I don’t get as much sleep as I used to, I carry more responsibility than I ever imagined, the work and amount of money that has to be given up just to work with horses is astounding. It is something I never thought of. 

Riding horses and working with them comes with firsts all the times: first time meeting a horse, first time riding a horse, and then trotting and cantering and jumping. First time grooming a horse, cleaning out a stall, giving a bath, tacking up a horse. First time cleaning a sheath, taking a temperature, feeding. First time lunging a horse, falling off a horse, being run off by a horse. Day in and day out, things change.

I love firsts. Maybe way too much. [And I'm not kidding when I say I love the smell of horse manure. It sounds gross, but I also enjoy the smell of gas.]

I’ve never been the kind to ever let my feelings show
And I thought that being strong meant never losing self control…

—-
Two drinks tonight, and I’m ready for bed? Geez.

[Update tomorrow dealing with the first two lines.]