New Month, New Me.

Okay, I've got forty minutes until it's not the first day of April anymore, and these are my last forty minutes as the old me. I mean I'll keep bits and pieces of the old me, but it's time for me to love me. I'm going to get over my ex. Maybe I still love him a little, maybe I always will, but he's got a new girlfriend and he's never going to love me back, so why waste my emotional energy? He's not worth it. (He really is.) I will not cry over him again and I will delete my playlist of songs that make me think of him, that damn playlist and all the songs on it are like the number one trigger of my depression and I don't need that shit in my life any more. Out with the old and in with the new. Speaking of new, I met (well technically re-re-met, since I knew him when I was a kid, and then we unknowingly hooked up in a club the other day) a really nice guy at Zambreros today, who before he was even sure who I was was like the friendliest and most familiar person ever, who made me smile straight up even though I'd been having a shitty day. We had a conversation later after I added him on Facebook, and idk I could really see this going somewhere, though I don't know where since I'm about to leave and he's moving to Melbourne, but who knows, it's time to take each day as it comes instead of looking at the long haul and letting my anxiety scare me out of actually giving anything a proper go. Also he's v cute in a grungy skater bad boy kinda way which is #perf c;
I'm going to start doing stuff that puts me out of my comfort zone, rather than just being content to live in my little cozy shelter. Idk what yet, but I know I have to do it.
I'm going to start taking steps to deal with my various mental issues, but also accept that they're there, and they're nothing to be ashamed of, and people aren't just going to stop wanting to hang out with me once they find out it have depression/anxiety/OCD, and if they do stop wanting to hang out with me then they're not worth my time anyway. 
I'm going to tell people how I feel. Okay, no, I probably won't do that one, but I'll try.
I'm going to stop posting sad whiny shit on this blog, and actually make it interesting for people, but I'm still going to post about my life bc it's my blog and I do what I want.
I'm going to write a fuck tonne of stuff because it's what I love to do and I don't care if it's shit people who think that can suck my dick it's my life so fuck you.
I'm going to (try to) finally be kinda happy.
I'm going to (try to) actually feel something.
I'm going to (try to) have more than basic and cold hearted emotions.
I'm going to fucking yolo it because you do really only live once, and I'm not going to waste it.
I'm going to be a new improved me.

xoxo

Because you're worth it

I don't really know how to introduce or explain this, so I'm just going to jump straight in. It concerns me that my brother is way more pissed about one of his friends kissing me without my consent at a club than I am. I'm in fact not annoyed at all, I couldn't care less, to me that's just what happens at clubs and if you don't want them to kiss you, you just say no and generally they'll back off. My brother almost beat the shit out of his friend and his friend is now dead to him. His friend isn't the only guy who just kissed me that night, and if he hadn't been Ben's friend and also the friend of a guy who I'm sort-of-non-commitally-not-seriously-kinda-seeing I probably would have just gone with it like I did with the other guy tbh. Maybe that says more about me than it does about like society or whatever like I was originally going for. I mean it's not the first time I've thought about my clubbing experiences like this before, I go clubbing and hook up with guys because it's easy for me. It's a confidence boost that I can get pretty much any guy I want if my dress is short and tight enough. I hook up with guys in clubs because I know my looks will get me further than my personality will. Because I have so little self worth and self value that I don't think anyone will ever be able to actually love me for me, but I can sure as shit get a horny drunk guy to grope my arse and put his tongue in my mouth with a shy look and a smile, or a raised eyebrow and a head tilt. I don't mind guys using me as a sex object, because at least I'm wanted and not alone at least for a little while. It lets me feel in control, when in fact as evidenced by the number of guys who just go for it without permission I'm really not. But that's okay with me too, because I'm the most submissive person and power play is kinda hot (as long as it doesn't go too far). Far put I'm fucked up. Maybe I should care more about myself and develop some self esteem and self worth. Yeah.

You know that overwhelming, heart pounding, stomach twisting, insurmountable feeling of "I Fucked Up"? I'd like to feel something other than that for a while, but I don't think I remember how.

I Do

I write stories and junk, so here's one of those, because I feel like I should get more comfortable showing people my work before I start my writing degree next year. I should also get better at writing, but that's not important :P This is one of my darker pieces, but it's also one of my more polished and edited pieces, so we're going with this one. I can't decide whether or not I want to continue it more or just leave it as is, but for now I'm pretty happy with leaving it as a piece of Flash Fiction with no real context or conclusion for the reader, maybe if I think of where I'd like it to go I might continue it later, but I have so many unfinished pieces, so who knows if I'll ever get time :P

~~~~

Trapping me. Trying to stop me from escaping. He wanted me forever. That’s what he said. He said “when we’re married you won’t be able to leave me.” I was promised anything I ever wanted. But now that we were here, huge chapel, flowers and people everywhere, big white dress weighing me down, making it impossible to run. I didn’t want it. Not like this. Not him. I tugged and his grip tightened. Tiniest shake of his head. My fingers were going white. I tugged harder, sure other people would notice this time.

“Let me go, please.” I hoped only he could hear.

Again, another almost imperceptible head shake.

“Jake please.” A sob broke through, a single tear. I watched the drip hit, the moisture spreading slightly through the thick satin. “I just want to go home.” Another drop.

“Stop it now Ellen honey, everyone’s staring.”

“I’m not Ellen,” it was my turn to shake my head now, still avoiding the glare.

A chuckle, echoing through the brick walls of the ancient chapel.

“Someone’s got cold feet,” he said. A small spattering of laughter from the crowd that had gathered to witness my waking nightmare. “Just give us a minute.”

He dragged me from the altar, into a small antechamber across the room. Murmurs picked up outside, sufficient noise to drown out our hushed words.

“Don’t do this Jake, please.”

“No Ellen, don’t you do this.” He slid his free hand into his jacket pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. His thumb flicked the folded sheet open, revealing a dark image of a small blonde boy crouched on a dirty mattress; wooden floor boards covered in dust surrounded him, his eyes and nose red from irritation and crying.

“Let’s remember why we’re doing this El, so we can raise our beautiful son together.”

“Please. Please don’t hurt him.”

“Now let’s not get hysterical El,” he lifted my chin with his finger, the paper cold and smooth on my neck. “You’ll ruin your make up.”

“My name isn’t Ellen!” My arm flew up, aiming for his face, but just hoping for any point of contact that might do damage. The paper fluttered to the ground as he brought his hand up, stopping my blow with a bone crushing grip on my wrist.

“Of course it is, what else could it possibly be?” Eyes frozen on my face. His breath was on my neck. “I’m done playing nice. Cooperate or not, up to you, but I’m the only one who knows where Parker is and I’m willing to bet you won’t like what happens.” His hand slid down my wrist until it matched its pair around my hand, “We have a deal my love.” Pressure around my fingers crushing them until I was sure they would break.

I nodded.

The smile returned as he straightened back up.

“Off we go then Ellen, time to say ‘I Do’.”

Every time I think of you this Playlist starts

Wherever You Are- 5 Seconds of Summer
I Almost Do- Taylor Swift
Half A Heart- One Direction
Thinking Of You- Katy Perry
I Miss You- Avril Lavigne

Dear Love, Please Forgive Me.

I think I'm a little bit in love with you. Which is stupid, I know, because out of all the people I could choose to be a little bit in love with you're the one who's going to fuck me up the most. You're the one moved on, but will always make me feel special when we talk, so I'll never quite move on. I'll always want to share stuff with you; and your stupid, sarcastic, so typically you responses that let me know that you genuinely care will always make me feel special. You're the one I want to talk to when I'm sitting on my floor crying, and all I want to do is call you and get you to come over and just hold me, but I can't, because you're with her now and you don't need me half as much as I need you. I miss watching stupid movies at your house, cuddled up on your couch or in your bed. I miss making beer pizzas in your kitchen, that tasted kind of shit, but watching you make dough like you knew what you were doing (when you totally didn't, typical.) was hilarious. I miss wearing your shirt, and smelling you. I miss driving around town because neither of us wanted to go home, and sitting in your car talking and kissing, completely breaking my curfew but not giving a single fuck. I miss the way you smiled when I did something cute, and your stupid laugh that always made me want to kiss you. I miss kissing you. I miss your family and how they always treated me like I belonged there. I miss your dog, and how you'd get jealous of me patting him instead of paying attention to you. I miss that time we just sat in the bathtub at your party, both feeling sick and dizzy, but being exactly where I wanted to be. I miss watching Hannibal with you, and sitting on your lap while we watched my brother playing dumb games. I miss you teasing me, and picking me up, because even though I said I hated it, you knew I loved it. I miss feeling the way I did with you. I miss you. All of you. The ego, the insecurity, the sarcasm. I'm sorry I fucked up, and I'm sorry you did to. You said we have a caustic relationship, not quite toxic, but never long before one of us hurts the other again. I'd redo every single time you hurt me over and over again if I could have you back. Even just for one day. I don't want anyone else. We're what I compare everything to, and nothing quite shapes up. And I'm not supposed to feel this way, I should be over you, should be able to be happy with you being with someone else, but I'm just not. I'm jealous, I'm sad, I'm so fucking angry with myself for letting you go. I'm sorry. I love you.

Moving...again.

Sorry about the whole not posting for months and months with no explanation or anything thing, my bad. But I have full intentions of actually following this through for a while this time, especially since I'm on my gap year and about to go to Europe for 8 months, so I might actually have something interesting to share for once ;P
Anyway, this is not a post to point out all my shortcomings as a blogger, I have enough people pointing out my shortcomings on other things thanks very much, this post is about me moving! I'm currently packing up my room (okay, not riiiight now, I'm taking a break, alright?) and it's exhausting and also really hard. I have 18 years worth of accumulated stuff, and now I have to sort it all out. I'll have my suitcase that's coming to Europe with me, so I have to decided what I do and don't need for 8 months of my life, and then the rest will be packed into boxes to either go to uni with me (I got into the uni degree of my dreams and I'm ecstatic! But more about that another time) or go into storage for 3 years until my parents get back from Europe. Obviously I want to take all my stuff to uni with me, but I'll be living on campus, so the room is only slightly bigger than half the size of the one I've got now, so I'll have to downsize, but it's so hard! And then anything I put in storage I won't have for 3 years, so I have to consider everything really carefully. 
It's kind of sad packing up my room, it's like really closing the door on this chapter of my life, high school, college, childhood- I'm an adult now. I'm about to go to uni, and not have my mum around all the time to help me with stuff and wow, that's hard. And then leaving my friends and my home and my brother for 8 months? Fuck. How am I supposed to live without Anna for 8 months???? I wish I could go back to being a kid, everything was easy, and I didn't have to worry about things as much, and my friends weren't going to be over the other side of the world.
I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm super excited to be going to travelling, and to go to uni, and to move out, but I'm also absolutely terrified. I'm kind of luckier than Ben though, since I'll at least have the rest of this year at home, even if home isn't home and it's in Spain (my mum's been posted there, that's why they're going for 3 years and I'm going for my gap year) where as he'll be here by himself, but also when he moved out he had mum and dad here t help him and get him whatever he needed and buy him for and stuff, whereas I won't, I'll have to figure it all out for myself. *sigh* 
Anyway, I'd better get back to packing, I still have so much to do ;c 
Moral of the story though: packing is hard, moving is hard, being grown up is hard, but life is kind of exciting and actually going pretty alright for the first time in a while. Small victories, right?
Okay, off I go to un-decorate my beautiful door :(

Catch you later!
Em
xoxo