Shoes

So my sweet-ass kangaroo and I are having a bit of an issue. I'm honestly not sure that he's still mine...and that scares me. Craparoni. Wanna know what the worst part is? It's my own damn fault! Again! Hmph to me and my God-be-damned girliness. I try to resist...honest I do! But it's like a high powered uber magnet held in the hand of a two year old, and I am but a paper clip, being slammed repeatedly until I stick.

Didja like that? I did.

Seriously, though...yesterday morning I was having a delightful conversation with the 'roo, and it eventually gets around to something about the suckage of a long distance relationship and not believing that I love him. I rolled my eyes and tried to reassure him...but I honestly wasn't trying very hard. I was frustrated, and I was tired, and I was menstrual, and really didn't want to reassure him. Regardless of the fact that he's always there to reassure me when I really need it.

We got into a conversation about self esteem. He pointed out that his self esteem was so low that he couldn't believe someone would care as much about him. This statement was closely followed by a short description of my issue; I had misplaced what I felt as love. I did care, he believed that, but it's not the same thing as love, and I just didn't see that. Ow? Yeah, uber ow. Not only are my feelings not real, but I'm just too stupid to even realize it!

However, rather than seeing this as him just being emo, for lack of a better term, and understanding that...hell, rather than just saying that it hurt and moving on...I got all hurt, and offended, and basically ended up dumping him. I told him that I did love him, but that if he couldn't believe me we needed to just be friends until he could.

I want him to be honest with me...but man was that a blow...ooooh, it still smarts!

Suddenly, of course, he has an epiphany. Without being able to explain it, he suddenly believes that I love him. Wait, what? This doesn't solve the problem. Not only is he lying...but now he's going to continue to lie to me. Fantastic. Pat on the back, Liv, you're just amazing. Good show.

So, I say g'night, and take off for the day. I go to bed feeling guilty, and wanting nothing but to tackle him with hugs and kisses and apologize. I resolve to apologize tomorrow. My pride is shot, what is there to get in the way?

Hah...hahahaha....hahahahahaha!

Fast forward to the next morning...I get up, and suddenly I don't want to talk to him. I'm tired, I just want to go back to bed. But I get online anyway. I've got to apologize, right? On top of that, I'm going to regret not getting online later.

I'm greeted with apologies from him...he's sorry he was so emo, and he loves me, and he's so very sorry, and he loves me. He doesn't understand why he acts the way he did last night, it only frustrates me and then I get upset and leave. Great. So now I feel even more terrible for my behavior. What to do? Apologize, right?

Hah, wrong again! Noooo! I go all cold and "I don't know what to tell you" and shit. There's no acceptance of apologies, not even an "It's good to see you, baby, I love you!" No. It's silence, and words full of ice and venom. What the HELL is my MALFUNCTION?! What did I want him to say? What did I want him to do? He was apologizing for nothing. I couldn't even squeeze out a measly "Sorry..." or "Whoops, my bad..." or even "G'morning." All he got was "I don't know what to tell you." What would you do?

I talked to him a little bit just a couple hours ago. He was kind of on his way out the door to get a computer, so that could be the reason for this...but I doubt it. I couldn't bring myself to ask if everything was okay, or if he was mad, or say I'm sorry. All I could do was joke and giggle about the computer he was getting. I did manage to say "I love you" a couple times...but there was nothing in response. Have I totally fucked up now? I'm honestly confused as to what we are. I'm hoping he gets online after he sets his new shiny up...but I'm not sure he will. I'm not exactly sure that he really wants to talk to me.

I don't know that I blame, him, either. I mean, c'mon, with the way I've behaved...what would YOU do? I wouldn't blame him if he decided that I most certainly am not worth any moment of his time. He'll take his soul back...and then where will I be? I've not felt this way about anyway...and I've never wanted anything this much in my entire life. I've never even considered leaving central Ohio...and yet, if he asked, and I was able, I'd leave tomorrow. Not without regrets, of course...I love my family. But I would do it. Because I love him.

So why do I insist on acting like such a bitch? I try to hard to be indifferent. Perhaps it's a defense mechanism. I'm afraid he's going to decide he doesn't like me anymore...I'm afraid that if I'm too overbearing he won't want to be with me. If I'm too clingy. Augh...I hate myself so much! Why can't I just chill out?

*sigh* I'm afraid I've yanked the other shoe down.

This is the Stuff of Dreams

Let me see...let me see...what is new? Hm. Well, most recently TQ's mom is on the lam. Apparently she molested another girl I know. A fourteen year old. She's forty-one. Eeeewwww. According to the new reports, she's done this before. Multiple times. There were suggestive photos on the computer they confiscated when the SWAT was over there that were "sexual role-play," apparently, involving minors. It makes me wonder what the content of the photos is. There are sexually suggestive pictures on TQ's Myspace that she took herself...and there are ones that her mom took. But they're mostly normal teenager pictures. I don't think that's what the police are all worried about.

This past week has been absolutely crazy! St. Patrick's Day, two birthdays, and Easter. Cool Bro got a drum kit for his birthday ^_^ He's been wailing on it ever since. Broken...three sets of drumsticks? Including the Rock Band drumsticks that he wasn't supposed to be using. Though, in his defense, I think it's mostly Fat Boy breaking 'em. He hits those drums hard. Oh, yeah, he's started coming over again...by coincidence...after Cool Bro gets his drums. Go figure. My mum, too, got a big gift. She got a laptop! Insane, right? It turns out, though, that all of a sudden the "bank didn't cash the checks"...so we're out of money and can't buy groceries. Yeah, my dad thinks that works. I think not. I think that he spent too much money on gifts and now we're broke and he won't admit it. Though he claims he got a promotion. Yippee!

Popeye and I are still together...wewt! We've passed two months with ease. The issues we've had haven't been big ones at all. There hasn't really been a fight yet, though there have been hurt feelings and...I hesitate to call them arguments. Debates, perhaps? Though I'm awfully sure that offline they'd have been yelling matches...I still don't count them as arguments. Though there have been more disagreements in this relationship than in any other I've had, I must admit. The past two relationships were with a guy who never said anything to disagree with me, and a guy who I always deferred to when talking about anything. He was always right. Before that...well, it usually didn't last long enough, and even if it did, it was a matter of me always being non confrontational as possible. So, regardless, there have been disagreements...but I honestly have never felt this way about anyone before.

I love him so much!

Sweet as a Lemon

So I recently re-heard "The Ultimate Showdown of Ultimate Destiny" by Lemon Demon...and have fallen in love all over again. This time, though, I've gone and looked up some of their other stuff. I've discovered that they're really quite awesome. I've been doing that a lot lately, exploring music. I've discovered quite a few bands that are really quite awesome, despite off-the-beaten-path. Or from another country. The Bloodhound Gang, Scared Weird Little Guys, Bodyjar, Garbage...and I've heard a lot more from bands I'd already known. ^_^ It's pretty awesome. I'm also 99% sure it's Popeye's doing ^_^

I've also seen a ton of movies recently. Which is odd; I've never been a movie buff. But meh. I've a new favorite movie: Hot Fuzz. Absolutely amazing ^_^ Action-y, and hilarious...and just cool!

And the past couple days have been Dungeons and Dragons amazing ^_^ Augh, I am such a dork! But it's so fun. So it's cool.

We got a record-breaking snow this weekend. Twenty inches in one day! It's been amazing; I've never seen this much snow in one place. I've got a couple wintry awesome stories to tell any little gremlins I have...should I choose to and have the opportunity.

Part of me worries that I'll never get that chance. I can only seem to hold a steady relationship online. This would make it difficult to have a family, would it not? I'm just not cut out for the real life thing ^_^ We'll just see how it goes. I can't really predict my life before it happens, can I? Who knows, perhaps I'll just be awesome and find someone in real life. Or Popeye and I will actually be together. Either way ^_^

Blood, Sweat, and Tears

Wow, so the past few days have been absolutely astounding. Yes, I am awe-struck. However, as evidenced by the title of this post, this awe-stricken-ness defies the positive connotation that is there. No, I am awe-struck at the frustration.

Let me first note that I am, in fact, menstrual. As much as I hate to admit it, this probably has quite a bit to do with my cheerleader-esque outlook on life at the moment. Not only is it hormonal, but it is the worst period I've had yet. I am literally sitting in puddles of blood most of the time. I have blood running down my leg on a regular basis. Even the most absorbent maxi-pads that exist are not enough to control this one. Every time I sit down, the dried blood on my ass cracks, and pulls every God-be-damned hair I have in the region. It's not just in the canyon, but on the sides overlooking as well.

No, details were neither necessary nor asked for. But I just thought you should know.

Waking up to a wet bed every morning, despite the fact that I could've sworn I was over it by the time I was five (Jesus loves me, this I know...), means shower first thing. It's like I'm being reborn every morning! I'm cold, I'm wet, I'm bloody, and I'm so very angry. Good morning world! Here I come!

So, I wake my brother, quickly wash up, and wait for him to get his lazy ass out of bed. This is usually at least twenty minutes. Fantastic. On two or three hours of sleep, because I've been up late the evenings prior, I wait, I help, I smile and giggle and try to make his day a little cheerier. He responds with gruff grunts, and bitching. But, I don't have to walk to school, so I ignore this.

A note on the evenings before; though Popeye is amazing, he frustrates the fuck out of me. I say "I have to go" because it's, oh yes, 4 am, and he bitches. He whines. He does anything he can to get me to stay. He knows that I can't leave if he's saying something. I'm OCD like that. He uses that to his advantage. Then, he immediately follows this up with "Yes I am stalling." and "I always feel so guilty when you stay up late to talk to me." This, of course, is every night. Fantastic. If you feel guilty, let me go to sleep after our four hour conversation, hm? BAH!

Anywho, back to the morning. So, on two hours of sleep, I try desperately to get schoolwork done. This is made easier when I'm not dizzy every God damn time I try to stand the fuck up, and sitting in a squishy puddle every time I'm seated. I can't wait until my ass finally gets its chapping this time. It's going to be awesome.

Suffice to say, I usually end up going to bed for a few hours. Until about noon. When I wake up, with a delightfully splitting headache now, along with the consistent cramps, I finish my schoolwork, and begin cleaning the house...as every day. Alone. Again. If I don't, school-boy bitches because he thinks it's easy for the assholes who sit on their asses all day to clean. He doesn't want to have to lift a fucking finger. Y'know what? He chose to go back to public school. Nobody made him. And he has been given many chances to choose to come back home. He wants to go to school to play with his friends, and then come home and not have to do anything. He doesn't do his homework, he goes and plays with friends, and he texts, and he bitches.

Today, he apparently talked to Mom about going to a friend's house. I texted him four times asking where he was. As usual, he ignored my texts. When he finally gets home, after I found out where he was because Dad called him, I giggled and said "Y'know, some day you may want to answer a text of mine." I wasn't being bitchy. I was just making a joke about it. The only reason I said anything was because Dad suggested it. I told him that my brother would get mad. But I mentioned it anyway. And, guess what? He got mad. "You sent me the message AFTER Dad called." he snapped. I told him that I'd sent about four, and he snapped "No you didn't. You sent me one!", now exasperated, his voice rising in volume. I just said "Okay." and walked away.

Later, we were playing Guitar Hero. I was listening to a song, and said that I was going to play that song after I was done listening to it. So my youngest brother ran to turn the game on, and play a song before me. The middle one wanders out from the dining room and "calls" the turn after the song...silently. So, I go to play, and he goes "I called it!" and rushes and takes the guitar. Okay, whatever, right? So then, he finishes his song and rushes over to the computer, all excited. He told my brother and I to turn off the TV, which we did with some argument, and then started playing this song. "That's Taking Back Sunday!" he proclaimed, all proud. My youngest brother and I had both heard it, and we smiled and said, yeah. So he gets all pissed off and goes "Fuck you guys!", puts the headphones in, and ignores us for the next half hour.

Then, after he's left to hang out with friends, he comes back and goes to do his homework. Obviously he's upset that I don't give up the laptop the moment he walks in the door. But, hey, I was in the middle of something. We've another computer that works perfectly well. We were doing something together, and he got a call and ignored me, as usual, and then left. Go figure. I've never done that. That's probably why I never leave the house, of course. I put time with my family before time with my friends. But meh. Regardless, so I was busy with the laptop. As he walked out of the room, I offered my help with homework. He responds with a reluctant mumble "Uhm, I think so, maybe." Does that sound like a yes to you? Because when I came to him later and asked again, he got all pissed and said "Well not now. But yeah, that would've been nice." I returned with "You didn't ask for help." and his response was "You asked and I said YES!"...with more cussing. I threw up my hands and left the room, speechless. I wanted to scream. So his response was to slam something or other and throw shit around the room as he stormed off, screaming about everyone being bitches, and how my youngest brother and I were in a horrible mood and he had no idea why. My youngest brother goes to be a part of the conversation with Dad, and Dad tells him to leave. So he does, after a bit of a fight (for which Dad got angry).

However, when my youngest brother went in to complain about school-boy's terrible mood, school-boy keeps getting up and going in there. Of course Dad doesn't kick him out. Then, something was said, and school-boy flips right the fuck out. He starts screaming about how he wants to kick my youngest brother's ass, to punch his face in, because he's such a "prissy little bitch"...which is definitely a delightful thing to say. He storms off when Dad tells him to quit, and screams about how everybody...well, not Dad...is making fun of him and being an asshole to him and he's just stressed because of OGTs and everyone's just pissing in his Wheaties. I have not said a word this entire time, while he's telling me that I'm freaking out. He's saying that he can't talk about it with anyone right now because he's going to hit someone, which ends up shutting people up, of course, but he does not stop talking about it, does he? That usually means you stop talking about it, too, doesn't it? So I leave the room again, frustrated at words being put in my mouth. He screams "FUCK YOU!" after me.

Dad then laughs when I don't want to talk about it, while he's telling everybody that school-boy is just stressed and just because he's being mean doesn't mean we have to be. Great, so we just take shit? And again, I've said nothing. Finally, I end up pointing this out, and say that, regardless of stress and depression level, school-boy's behavior is not really justified. I've been stressed and depressed for weeks, and I've not been mean to anybody. I've shut up and done what I needed to do.

I've not complained about my period, or about my frustrations, or about the fact that my family is spiraling out of control again and nobody's doing anything about it, or the fact that I want to cut so badly again that it hurts, or the fact that I don't know if I can handle the online relationship thing with someone I'm so attached to, or the fact that I want to kill myself again.

I finally mentioned my period to my parents a bit ago. They said that they'll get school-boy up tomorrow morning, and I should just sleep.

There's nobody I can tell about the other stuff.

Nobody'd understand.

Everyone would be mad.

What happened to my awesome "keep everyone at arm's length" attitude, huh?

I used to be so good at it!

To Be Loved

My delightful Aussie and I had a bit of an argument last night. If you can even call it that. Things were fine, we weren't talking about anything important. But suddenly, BAM, right into our laps drops this rather large topic. Trust.

This is not the usual trust argument. Obviously. This is ME we're talking about. I had made a comment about needing to go to bed soon. He asked why, and I replied with a statement on the lack of sleep I have received over the past couple days. I'd slept four hours over the past two days; not exactly a comfortable place to be, for sure. He asked why I had so little sleep, and when I said I wasn't sure, he wondered aloud if it was his fault. "It probably does have something to do with missing you." I said, "But most likely, it more has to do with the fact that my parents are drawing ever closer to the situation that prompted Dad to leave last year, and I have no outlets."

Of course, his response was "Talk to me." Now, as wonderful as this is, I argued that he was the one thing that made me forget, and thus I did not want to talk to him about the situation because I honestly didn't want to think about it, and I didn't want him to worry about it. There was more argument, and it dissolved into "I don't want to lose you." and similar statements. He said that I never would, he promised me that he would never leave. He always keeps his promises, he says. I, of course, lashed out with "'You're not the person I fell in love with'...see, you kept your promise. I changed. Right?", which offended him.

"Don't you trust me?" he asked. "If you don't believe me, you might as well end it right here." he said. I finally said that I couldn't even if I wanted to, which I think satiated him, because he went on to "You don't have to be alone anymore." and argued that he wanted to help me.

At this point, I blew up. I told him that there wasn't a damn thing anybody could do to help me, and I went through a rather long rant about some things that have been bothering me for quite a while. Things that I had told nobody about. I went through some of the most awful things I had ever done. I don't know what I was thinking. I just wanted him to go ahead and be scared of me, to hurry up and freak out. Just like most everyone else. I told him there was no way he could possibly even believe what I had said, nobody did. I was on the verge of tears. Why does this boy stir up the tears?

After my spiel was over, there was a long pause. I stared at the computer screen, awaiting and dreading the inevitable response. My heart was pounding and burning in my chest, my breath coming in agitated gasps, and tears burned my eyes. I waited for what seemed an eternity. His response was three simple messages that struck me to the core.

I believe you.
I trust you.
I love you.

I stared for quite a while, dumbfounded. I believe you, he said. Someone believed me. He knows more about me than TYOB ever did, and he believes me. And he still wants me. I'll let that sink in for a moment. Though I'm sure some can sympathize, none of you have any idea what that means to me. I am still reeling from the conversation. I feel truly blessed.

Part of me is still waiting for the other shoe to drop.

There once was a girl who read limericks.

I found a delightful little website started by the writer of one of my favorite webcomics, xkcd. I've been reading all day. It's fun ^_^ Some are awkward, some are dumb, but most are fun ^_^ I've the beat running through my head now, but I'll not try to write one. I'm no poet, and I'll not mar that facet of writing again ^_~ But go read other people's awesome limericks, anyway ^_^

"But I'm still scared"

Saturday was an odd day to say the least. I did not end up spending the day alone, but with a large group of people. I went over to this girl's house, FB's (Fat Boy's) "girlfriend", but not the one that Cool Bro liked. That probably makes no sense to you. Regardless, she lives next door. We'll call her Teen Queen, or TQ for short. There were a couple other people there, TQ's "baby mamma", and this girl's friend who was out of jail for the day. Which was interesting to say the least. And The French One (TFO), of course, who is just awesome. I felt so bad, though, TFO got picked on a bit because he's still a virgin. I should have stood up and said something, but I didn't. I was too busy being shy.

We walked in to FB and TFO smoking a bowl. They were all sitting around talking about this party that was going on later that night. I was invited, but I didn't go. I said that I "had things to do around the house"...but really, I was talking to my boyfriend and avoiding the "Hookah" (they claimed it was just tobacco in there) and the ecstasy that they were all going to take. Which, though it sounds absolutely delightful to lose all your motor function and be "rollin'", just isn't for me. They're not too bright when they're sober. Why would they be when they're smoking pot and "rollin'"...and with me joining in? Not so much. So I passed that one up.

I came home after a bit and stole the desktop away before other people could use it. I got to actually hold a conversation with Popeye! Amazing, isn't it? It was fun. Though I am no conversationalist. So it was slow at first. TFO came over after a bit with Cool Bro, TQ left to take her "baby momma" to work, and they didn't want to be there when TQ's terrifying mother got home. So, they hid at my house until TFO had to go home for dinner. TFO found out about the whole online boyfriend thing...he asked a direct question, and got a direct answer. But he didn't get all freaky. There was something odd in the way he spoke to me and looked at me afterward, though. He got uncomfortable. But I didn't get a "Why?" or one of those "You're crazy!" looks. I can't really describe it, but it was different. I'm worried that he just thinks I'm too weird even for conversation now.

So yeah, I spent a very long time talking to Popeye. We sang together, after Cool Bro helped me out a bit. It was nice of him. He made the situation less...frustrating. Less nerve racking? He started belting out lyrics, and picking songs that I know. Because Popeye was bugging me to sing. Not quite sure why that was such a big deal, but meh. It happens. Then, later in the evening, I moved onto the other computer. The mic didn't work, but there was still the visual aspect, which was kinda fun. And...stuff happened. Wink wink, nudge nudge? Yeah, it was kind of surprising to me, even though I was expecting it.

But afterward, he was nervous. "I've given you everything now" he said. He got worried that I was going to dump him after that. This has been kind of a recurring theme. We both get worried and insecure; he's just more verbal about it. I've learned to "STFU" as it were. Not that I think there's anything wrong with him saying so. I would much rather he talk to me about it than not. If he didn't, he'd just dump me. This would...crush me, to say the least. I know the chances of the relationship working out are slim. He lives halfway across the world, for chrissakes. Plus, the whole "self-esteem" issue kind of gets in the way. Rarely do relationships work if the partners don't believe themselves truly worthy, or are always expecting the other to leave. But that doesn't stop me from hoping.

Last night he said so, too. But last night he said that he didn't think, if this didn't work out, we could go back to the way things were. As much as I hate to admit it, I think I agree. Even before all this webcam stuff...it just won't work to go back. Now, I'm sure it will be awkward in the beginning. But I think that would level out. However, I honestly don't think we could ever be as close as we were. It's incredibly unfortunate. So this had better work out. Because I need him.

Oh God, why does he have to live so far away?