Live, Love, and Hate – by Orpheus
Week 75 – What do they Cure?
(8/18/05, 1:47 AM) I still don’t sleep too much. R says it’s not healthy, and I suppose she’s right, but honestly, I don’t think I’d mind if I just keeled over dead one of these days. Actually, I suppose that’s not quite true. I wouldn’t want to leave Amy behind. That being said, I hope that it’s fatigue or sleep deprivation or whatever that’s making me listen to The Cure right now. Yes, I know I have commented on previous occasion that their music makes me want to butcher ever member of the band and all the people who have ever enjoyed their music (especially that song The End of the World, which I am listening to as I type this).
You know, the sleep-deprivation leads to occasional moments of utter brilliance. Like the other day, I realized that in my story Suicide of the Month Club, David wasn’t the only crazy one; he was the only sane one. Also, Alex wasn’t a bitch at all, she had already died once for David and was dreadfully afraid of losing him to Justine. This got brought up in conversation with R the day before yesterday.
Now, that leads me onto the subject of R. I’ve been thinking about her a lot, even though I know I probably shouldn’t because she’s made it perfectly clear I’m never getting another chance. Sometimes, after I understand this (it seems like I can only grab it for a second before it just slips out of my mind), I get absolutely fucking furious because of how many times she forgave her ex, who’d, y’know, actually done something. Where as me, I made a mistake eight months ago. And it just kept getting worse because she’d never tell me about it, even when I noticed that she was acting kinda strange. Then, I realize that it doesn’t fucking matter if it’s fair or not.
Y’know, I just don’t get how she could rip my fucking heart out and then act like nothing had happened. I mean, there’s only really two possibilities in that situation, right? A) it really didn’t mean anything to her. Or B) she didn’t care enough to tell me the truth if it was bothering her.
She thought I’d get mad again if she told me (or at least she told me this, damned if I can really trust her [ironic considering it was the question of whether or not I could trust her that led me here]). This is ironic. The reason I got really pissed off at her those times was because I thought she was lying to me. She said that she didn’t tell me because “sometimes you need to move on, even if it hurts”. I suppose that’s true, but sometimes, you need to, I don’t know, maybe WORK OUT YOUR PROBLEMS INSTEAD OF RUNNING AWAY FROM THEM.
That runs nicely into what it was I meant to write about when I began this, so I guess I’ll start that as a new week. You know where to send topics.
Oh, yesterday (the 17th) was my birthday. Thank you EVER so much to everyone who remembered (i.e. Amy [family notwithstanding]). Of course, most everyone else is on vacation at the moment, so I suppose it’s to be expected. But I thought, y’know, since me an’ R are apparently still friends or something, I could at least count on an e-mail or something from her. Guess I was wrong. Of course, I’m still waiting for my birthday present from two years ago, which was also supposed to be last years gift, and she never seems to be able to remember just how old I am, so I suppose I really shouldn’t have expected anything from her. Suppose I should get around to updating the bio thing on the main page to say I’m sixteen, I think it still has fourteen as my age...
Anyway, this is Orpheus, signing off.