The
Invitation

It
doesn’t interest me what you do for a living.
I want to know what you ache for
and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart’s longing.

I want to know if you can be alone
with yourself
and if you truly like the company you keep
in the empty moments.

I am seriously not in the mood to write in here at the moment, but
considering I haven’t written since the weekend, I guess I should try
to make sense of my feelings as of late.

I sent the letter to Anthony two days ago. There is a part of me that
it hasn’t registered with yet, and it still hurts so bad. I let go of
him when I sent that letter, and set him free into the world.. at least
the part of him that was with me. I hope he finds his way and allows
himself to become happy. I know he has a lot of potential, and even
though he can no longer make me happy, I know one day he’ll make an
amazing woman just as happy as he was able to make me the past four
months. I know he’s lost, and he needs to find his way again… he
needs to find the path he walked off of years ago. I know he has it in
him, and I will support him all the way if he wishes me to do so, but
not at the expense of my well-being. A huge part of me is scared to
move on without him, and I’m not sure why. For once, though, I need to
be on my own. Doing my thing. Getting my stuff done. Being myself. That
is scary for me, but I know I can do it. 

My parents said no to the dog. I still am holding onto a little bit of hope.

It has definitely been a rough few days. Yesterday just royally
sucked… and I don’t think I cried that much in a such a long time. It
was a combination of everything, from losing Anthony to the fact that
my parents are so against me getting dog that I hate even bringing it
up now to stress over work and how I feel like just because I am the
“new girl” I get the brunt of bad things to even the fact that sleeping
has become an issue and I can’t seem to get back on my normal schedule.
Writing is bascially nonexistent right now, and the more I listen to
the radio… the more songs come on that I just want to drown myself in
tears over. Every single time I drive somewhere, the same song comes
on. It is like clockwork. I could drive for two minutes, and that song
would be playing. It is taunting me, that Keith Urban. Darn him for
writing such a sad song that I relate to so well.

I am tired today. It’s just not a good “me” day. I feel dissatisfied
with so much. Work on Saturdays is usually good – the hectic schedule
is good because it keeps me busy.. but I don’t know, things didn’t
click today and I feel off my game. It was almost like every little
mistake that I could make, I made. A Dalmatian scratched my hands
pretty bad because it was so unruly three of us had to force it in the
cage… and then it kept trying to bite me when I put its collar on.
Only after I got it on with a little bit of a struggle did the owner
tell me that he hates people touching his neck. Weird dog, I tell you.
I was glad to see that one leave. I got in a semi-trouble for taking my
break and a lady coming to pick up a dog I did… and his nails weren’t
clipped yet, even though I didn’t call her to come pick him up and I’m
not really sure what that was about. The Pit Bull mix I bathed was
scared of the dryer, and I got told I don’t comfort dogs enough.
Basically, not a good day. I also hit my head pretty hard on a corner
of a kennel door when I stood off from crouching on the ground, and it
left a small bump on my forehead… that gave me a dizzy spin for a
while. My pants smell like they were dragged through a sewage dump, and
I felt literally dead when I was driving home. My sisters honked at me
when they happened to drive past me, and it took be about two minutes
to react to that.

I just feel lonely, I guess. I don’t have any friends here at home when
everyone is at school, and after a while… it gets old. It gets real
old to go to work, come home, eat, watch tv, surf the net, then go to
bed. It’s the same routine every day, and as much as I love routine,
this one is one I’m not getting into. I feel a little unsettled, to be
quite honest. I guess I was looking forward to the middle and end of
March because that was when I would probably see Anthony, and I feel
like right now… it’s crappy and I don’t have much to look forward to.
I really need to pick up my art supplies again and start drawing…
start doing glasswork again…. start all that stuff, because I have to
entertain myself most of the time…

I hope my parents reconsider the dog for my birthday. It’s the only
thing I asked for, the only thing I will accept, and the only thing
that will help me out of this funk. [I am craving affection like none
other.]

The vulnerability I feel scares me. I don’t know when it will be okay
to give in to everything. I thought I had found the right thing that
would last for the rest of my life, but for some (that is unknown to
me, and will mostely like remain that way) the “right” thing left my
life. I am slowly becoming okay and attempting to put the past behind
me as best I can, even as hard as it is at the moment. The pain ripples
and courses through my body, my heart, my mind, my soul. It is time for
me to figure out my life now, before I can give all of myself to
someone else. I owe it to myself, the person who I will end up loving
for the rest of my life, and my future life I will lead – with that
person, and also without. I am worth the love for myself that I know is
inside of me. I belive I have the strength to find out who I truly am
and all the beautiful things I have to give to others and the world,
without compromising the good things I am right now. The process will
be long, and hard, and not fun at times. I know I have to do it though.
I gave up so many times before when I made promises to myself to find
myself. Now it’s time for me to follow through. I am scared, though, of
jumping too soon and way before I am ready. I know I have the tendency
to do that, to let my vulnerable state get ahead of me and allow me to
think I am ready before I am. I am promising myself at least six
months, if not a year, of being by myself (in no relationship) and
taking the time to really get to know myself and what I want out of
life.

A small part of me has not let go. If it had, that letter I wrote would
already be out of my hands, and he probably would have gotten it
already. I don’t know why I am wanting to hold on, as I know he isn’t
holding onto me. I really try my best to not think about it all. He
does not deserve the tears I have cried over him so far. That is
probably my justification for not crying – that he does not deserve the
pain I feel over him. I do believe he will try to come back, after he
figures out what he wants out of life, and once he figures out his
life. I have this gut feeling that his letter was not the goodbye he
wanted, and he will do his best to wiggle his way back into mine. But I
sacrificed too much for him. I was willing to put my dreams, my life,
my family on hold for him, and that’s not right. I am worth more than
just a sacrifice of my life – it’s my life, for God’s sake, and I can
have whatever I wish to have in it. If someone who claims to love me
does not like it, they take the hike because honestly, they don’t
deserve to be here with me if they can’t understand what is right for
me, too.

I will be 20 in 18 days. I asked for a puppy for my birthday.

The dark circles under her eyes held a pain she hid from the world. The
image of herself that was reflected in the bathroom mirror, surrounded
by fluorescent lighting of which made her skin look old and dead,
scared her. She ran her long pointer finger along those circles,
underneath her eyelid, trying to feel what they begged others to see.
Her dreams were slowly sinking into the depths of her skin, the pits of
which her eyes took in and the liveliness they once held was long gone.
Her eyes no longer contained the fire they once had, and as the days
passed, the circles got darker and her eyes swallowed the world whole.
She was tired of life, and all of its offerings. Her direction in life
was long lost, and with it she was only surrounded by that bathroom
lighting making her seem dull and lifeless in a place where she should
have seemed more beautiful.

Along the edges of the bathtub was a light purple ring from the fizz
ball she had attempted to use in lieu of bubble bath one late evening
after a hard day at work. Three days later, and the remnants of it were
still there. She had no desire to clean the grimy tub that once used to
be white, its feet splayed along the uneven tiled floor. Down the drain
swirled the dreams she once held. Dirt, grime, sickness had sloughed
off of her into the water, and now she sat around in her own body filth
waiting for the tub to beg her back to let it all go again. But she
knew it would take away her goals again, and only wished to stay away
from it long enough until it relinquished its control over her.

Underneath her right hand ring finger was a dull green stain from the
cheap ring he gave her as a steady promise of their future. The
luminous pink the gem once was seemed to have died down in the past few
months, the fake diamonds along its sides seemingly nonexistent beneath
the transparent grime. She hoped she would find the gripe to get the
ring cleaned one day soon. It held so many memories – and after it had
pressed its imprint into the top of her finger she wasn’t sure if
taking it off would cause a slow regression back to where she was
before it. She had lost the ring a while back, for about two weeks. It
had seemed to escape, and without it she felt naked. Now that she was
wearing it again at every moment she could, it felt abnormal to have it
on. It symbolized her heart’s unavailability to the world around her,
but she wondered if him being gone for so long was a symbol, too. She
was holding out for as long as she could, and the strength it took was
often found in this simple, cheap, fake piece of jewelry that she lost
and then found, over and over again.

I know in my eyes I will always be good enough. No matter what, I
always try my best in everything that I do, and even though I may not
be very happy with where I am in my life, that doesn’t stop me from
working my hardest with whatever I try. My parents, on the other hand,
can’t seem to realize that my best will never be their best. It is like
beating a dead horse. Over and over and over and over and over. I mean,
my dad stands there and asks me to justify my love for Anthony. He asks
me to justify all my friendships. As if they aren’t important and I
shouldn’t have them in my life. I should never have to justify things
about my life and what I choose to do with my life to anyone -
especially my parents. My parents push me to be this perfect woman that
I will never be. I can’t be perfect, it is impossible. I am flawed just
like they are flawed. In their eyes, I feel like such a liability. I am
always costing them another penny. I am always making the wrong
choices. I have the wrong friends, the wrong life, the wrong boyfriend,
the wrong dreams, the wrong goals. I am not pretty enough, or smart
enough, or funny enough, or friendly enough. They don’t understand that
when I don’t want to talk, it means: I don’t want to talk. In high
school, they pushed away the depression I went through – they hid it -
they tried to make it all seem like it really wasn’t going on. They
didn’t let me go to therapy when I asked them to let me go. They didn’t
believe a word I said about my life and what was going on. They made it
seem like I always had something to do with what was going wrong in my
life, that I was the one who caused all my pain.

All I said was that I wanted to visit Anthony around my birthday. My
dad asked, “Why?” How come he can’t accept the fact that I just want to
see him? I shouldn’t have to tell him why – the reason should be clear.
It’s been two months, by that time it will almost be three… I should
be allowed to see him. My dad complains about how they pay for all my
insurances, that I don’t do anything, that my job isn’t a real job -
even though I go almost every day and I make money. What is a “real”
job, then? He has his own business and spends most of his life in our
basement all alone. He complains when he has to take my little sister
to her tennis tournaments on the weekends, or when he had to come pick
me up from school…. because his business is so important it
overshadows his family. He says he is making oh-so-much money for us,
but I would rather him spend time with us and be a father rather than
make us money. Money doesn’t buy happiness nor love, but he fails to
see that.

They make me feel guilty with the choices that I have made, even when
they said they supported me. They make me feel like I owe them so much
money because of the things I have done. I am just trying to make it
right now. I am trying to get my feet back on the ground and figure
things out. I feel like my parents don’t support me in anything beyond
school. They want me to just get my schooling and that’s it. When I
first went to college, my mom told me: “You don’t need boys or friends,
just do your work.” I mean, I never planned on falling in love with
someone – but I couldn’t help it. And I can’t help that I have some of
the greatest friends.

I’m sick of being given crap over my life. I like where my life is
headed, even though I have had some detours. If my parents are so
worried about money, then they should just tell me that it is up to me
to pay for school. I will do it. I am done making excuses for my life.
I know the truth and I will reap the benefits, as well as the
consequences. They can get off my back and let me live, or I will make
things happen for myself.

I’m dizzy. Bye.

:edit:
I am getting tired of trying and trying, yet no one giving and giving. Yeah, I’m talking about you now. Come on.