Hero Take Me Home

You make me lose sight,
Of the reality I'm seeking.
Thank god you can't see me,
Because my knees are weakening.

You're a different kind of addiction,
And a dangerous game to play,
Because I feel I'm sinking,
In a very shameful way.

You were my hero,
And I your biggest regret,
Words you didn't need to speak,
Among memories I can't forget.

I was your awful secret.
You became my home.
We fell into each other,
Because we couldn't be alone.

You are worldly and smart,
Clever, full of charm.
Well, the world ate me alive,
And I'm running back to your arms.

Running back to your madness,
Your comforting song.
Somehow this mess,
Is where I feel I belong.

I wish I could be more,
And comfort you the same,
Wipe the tears,
And kiss the pain.

Did you know I'd need you?
Did you see it coming in the end?
Are you ready to play the hero,
And bring me home again?

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Gone too soon

Physically exhausted and all sorts of stiff and swollen, and no not in a naughty way. Pushing 48hrs no sleep. Alyssa and Sam lost someone this morning, the first death for them that hit close to home. And I do mean first, because sadly its inevitable that it won't be the last. Seeing that pain in them is awful and I can't, won't tell them it's going to be okay, because it's not, not for awhile. I guess I am the resident expert on death and grief, and I'm not very good at it. So sad that girl was just 19, made me selfishly a little scared for myself. It's not fair to have any disease taking over your body so young. Shed turned 19 on Reina's birthday...She should have been just beginning her life. I am so sick of people dying around me, narcissistic I know but it's true and I can't help but notice, every time something awful has happened to A this year--she's been with me. :( Is the world trying to tell me something?? Make your point then, fuck!!!

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Out of love

This is so hard. I feel like an emotional storm is brewing, I've kept them safe and tucked away a long time, but it's all just built up a sort of atmospheric pressure. I am not in love with James anymore, and I think, know, he can sense it, and after our talk he's trying to hold onto me even tighter, almost desperately. I feel relieved, a sense of calm knowing how I feel, but also the worst guilt. If there's one great thing to come of my mother's death, it's that nothing could ever be that hard, or hurt that much again, in perspective, the rest of life seems small. I don't want to hurt him though, but I have and I'm going to. It's going to be awful. And it makes me want to be alone after forever, just so I never have to go through anything like this ever again.

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Feeling guilty...sort of

Spent most of the night talking to him. He posted a song for me, good to hear his voice, and that guitar. I want him though. And I'm going to bed with another man, he's already back up and playing Halo and yelling disgusting insults. Yes I feel guilty, does it feel wrong? No. Will we ever be together? Probably not. I need him though, some part of me does. He knows, and probably enjoys it, another "fan" (yuck!). He just better not change his damn mind once I finally move on. One last shot. My hero, my heart, my second chance, that tore me apart--what's good enough for you isnt always good enough for me, but I love you all the same. Just take care of me however you can, you owe me that much.

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Chris Cody...lol

And who writes me tonight? Chris, blast from the past. I lied I did cheat. Once. He tried to get in my pants for months, even bringing flowers to my work. Handsome as hell, 6'5", blonde hair to his ears, brown eyes, the guy all the other girls wanted. I got tricked into it, he whisked me a way to the nicest hotel in the area, and produced the largest bag of cocain I'd ever seen or ever would see. We practically tore each others clothes off and he lifted me up, my legs wrapped around his waist, pressed me against the huge picture windows of the suite over-looking the water and fucked me like it was water after a week in the desert, some desperate thirst. It was a crazy night. And much to my disbelief he continued to chase me after he'd had me, there were more flowers, letters. I shut him down pretty much I guess. He wanted me because I was unattainable, and he reminded me so much of Ian, even his personality. But I wanted a safe life. He wasn't safe. And i just didn't want him, still don't, it exciting to be wanted, but that's it. He still owns the apartments my friend lives in, and runs a medical marajuana dispensary in Seattle, he's successful and just came back from his 3rd trip to Peru. Well I guess it's nice to know SOMEONE wants me. Not responding though.

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And back to the future

Reading this stuff, is hard and it makes me realize how much there is I really don't remember. How many pieces are missing. We talked last night, until I fell asleep just before sunrise. I know these are feelings I have to feel, what choice is there really, they are just lurking under the surface, those dark things, behind my magic curtain. I'm burning up inside, but maybe that's good, there's been so much nothing, so much numbness for so long, so much the same, everyday the same things. I'm so tired of living in a broken body and a broken life. I have a strong taste for all the things that are no good for me, and my self control is a joke. But those memories build a fire in me because it's the kind of electricity and connection I've been missing for so long. I'm sure there's so much more out there for me. Still he weakens me because he doesnt want me, thats the only reason, I love to punish myself and I'm unappreciative, easily bored...but also there's just that strange connection, that seems to transcend everything and everyone else, it must be there for something, I just havent figure out what yet. Alone and awake tonight, with too many thoughts. I guess things havent changed all that much in all these years...
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    contemplative contemplative

Traveling back in time again, unedited

Sunday, November 9 2003

I'm haunted, and not in the way I wish, I wish it was my mother that I felt around every corner--but maybe that would just be too much, would hurt too bad. So it's him. I am reminded of moments I had never wanted to forget, the perfect ones that now I wish had never happened. I miss him enough I cry, I have too much to cry over, and I'm so afraid each time that if I start I won't be able to stop. I want him so furiously it's painful to be awake. I want his arms, I want him to feel this, his daughter. I KNOW he must hate me. Oh God, why can't I hate him, I should for all that he's done, or rather all that he hasn't done. I just want someone to love me, because who is left to love me know that she's gone, and now him too. He used to kiss my tears, knowing the same pain that I felt watching her die, now I cry alone and without comfort. I try and try and yet I can't look anyone else, or think of any other man putting his hands on me, beyond all attempts of the mind, my body seems devoted. I want free of this. He's most likely drunk every night fucking a handful of good looking women, I doubt I'm much more than a passing thought, so why should he deserve these tears--he does not deserve this love, and I'm insane to be so intensely into this. And what of my daughter, what do I tell her someday? I don't want her to know of my pathetic mistakr, I don't want her to know that her father never loved her mother, never wanted her to be born.If he's never around will she miss him, or just feel an absence, everyone seems to think it matters, that children without fathers go to jail or end up pregnant, what do I do? What if it's true, what if he's already fucked up her life? Danm him, danm it, danm it!! He never knew his father, does he wish the same fate on his child? I knew I went against what he wanted in every sense, keeping her, but she's all I have left! Can't he understand that? How could he expect so much from me, how could expect me to go through another loss, how could he expect me to be so numb, or brave, or whatever it would have taken to do it? Does he not know how alone I am now? Oh...she's kicking now...Why is it some days I'm so strong and other's I am a shameful weeping mess, a useless heap hideing in this room that is not my own?
Dare I confess it...There are times, I feel it would be so much easier to die, I know in my heart my daughter is the only thing that keeps me alive, I'm weak and she saved me, I guess he saved me too in a way. If not for her I would have given up and followed my mother weeks ago. The truth in that is awful and sinks me in guilt. What life is this, I think, everything painfu I have risen above or more rather hidden below in the past few months, it sets in at times so angirly the crying is literally violent, its painful physically, that horrible fire that grows in my throat. No one knows, I dont show it, it's too dangerous now, and too embaressing. As I accomplish so many thingss and in everyone elses eyes I am this amazing young woman (whom they feel sorry for), in reality I am so foolish and confused. Afraid and still unwilling to accept the truth. What was that saying? "Acceptance is the only way out of hell". If only I could do that. What a fucking joke, what a life, hideing in this room, a strangers room, writing, screaming into this little book.It's only one in the afternoon and I'm praying sleep will come, in sleep I feel nothing, I can't die, but I can sleep.
My mother, what of her? No one prepares you for the harsh reality of death. It's so odd that there's just nothing now, I think I almost expected some heaven sent sign from her, that I'd see her again somehow...Too many movies lie to us, raise our expectations, and romantacize what is just purely awful. I miss her so much, so badly sometimes it's hard to breathe. It's emptiness, everything feels empty.It still makes me so angry and frustrates me that I didn't get to hear her voice again before she died, the cancer took that long before it took her. I miss talking with her late into the the night. God, how I took her for granted, I wonder still if she forgives me. I feel embaressed crying now, even though I'm alone, how strange is that? I crave comfort, I don't want sex, well maybe I do, but not as much as I just want to be kissed, held, loved--and all the reassurance that comes with those things. I think what cushioned the blow after she died, was his literal nearly heroic return (would have been actually heroic if it wasn't prison he was returning from), the very day after she died, and the nights that followed. I remember how he made me laugh, when I'd thought I would never laugh again. I love him because of those wonderful moments in time when he made me so happy. Those are the moments I cling to, stil, even now that those smiles have been stolen. I pray, or talk to myself, whatever you wanna call it, that I will make my daughter happy, and shelter her from pain--though I know to do that is impossible but I will try to do so as long as I can.
I am sorry to have brought such sad words to these pages. There is still hope, tomorrow is a new day.
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    nostalgic nostalgic

I'm a naughty nasty cheater

Not really. But given the opportunity? Tall dark and handsome, charming and aloof? Yeah, I'd probably go for it. I'm deeply craving, wanting to be wanted, noticed, desired. And I want to be myself. I want the kind of happiness I grew to believe, was only make-believe. Life isn't a fairy-tale and I've gotten used to that, but nothing truly horrific has happened to me in years, except my own dark issues--I have no excuse to feel sorry for myself, the power is in my hands I'm well aware. People perceive me as a strong person, but I'm not, in fact I think it's raw fear that held me together and emotionless on the outside during my "ordeal" at 15, and it's raw fear that leaves my paralyzed but not powerless in my current state. And a deep desire not to hurt others. I'm living a lie in ever sense of the expression, it's not Ian's fault, it's not my mother's not my father's and not James's, it mine and mine alone this time. Ian has been a continued distraction and fixation, one I've recently been forced to let go of and face the facts--but James has been an easy out, just the same. Starting to see a pattern. Passion to passionless, I've hit both ends of the spectrum for generally the same reasons. I'm learning, growing, and I'm trying to build the strength to face my mistakes, and walk away, from this ridiculous mess I've made of my life. Maybe then I can really claim to be a "strong person".

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drunk, still

Ugh. Yep still drunk, dont fuckin judge me. Besides its the opiates I have a problem with. We're not talking about that though. James is a spolied shit. I'm in love with Ian because I need a distraction, I need a god danm excuse, and sadly he was the last inresting thing to happen to me--thats honesty right there, and thats sad. More reasons to move the hell on and get out of this dark cold place ive set myself up in. How'd this happen to me? Howd I end up completely dependant on a man? My mom would be so disapointed with me. But seriously fuck you mom for making me dine and ditch, for embaressing the shit out of me in the grocery store and trying to steal gad at the Chevron--among other things. But thank you for instilling in me a sense of self worth and pride, and intelligence, with out which I'd have no idea I even deserved better. I'd just always have a sense that something was missing. Oh and Ian, I never said his name because he was always afraid of being forgotten, and that was gonna be my revenge, but its up to him, he's not gonna be remembered because of me anyway and I'm done being bitter and angry. I hope so anyway.