face to fake

Today, I found myself in the oddest position of giving advice to a girl over a boy that has played her like a fine violin.

It was just SO bizarre! Because I could just see myself in her, feel her pain, understand every bit of confusion she was feeling. Because I was there, you know? For a year, I was in that zone, wondering, planning, debating. It's a tough maze to find your way out of.

"We can call it anything we want," I told her as we walked back to her dorm room so she could show me the profusely apologetic Facebook note he wrote her. "We can say we've been played, we're cynical, whatever. But deep down, it's simple - our feelings have been hurt. It doesn't matter that we're in college or 21, our feelings are hurt and it sucks."

I think you have to acknowledge these things before you can move on. I think that accepting that god, sometimes your heart just hurts for no logical reason is a step you need to take before moving on. That though it doesn't matter in the world, in the grand scheme of things, it matters to you, however tiny and insignificant you are. It matters.

I've been down the road she's looking at - wanting to make contact. Trying to phrase messages so clearly and calmly. Wanting to believe those pretty words, wanting to give someone the benefit of doubt, wanting to believe the past four months weren't a waste.

"We need to have a face to face," she said.

"Face to fake is more like it," I replied, thinking of Kevin.

yes we can

Late for my group meeting for my final, I was finally on the road. I had worked all day at the Paper Source and barely said hello to my parents before I ran out the door. I had a list of five DVDs i needed to watch in the library (some full DVDs and others just clips) for tomorrow's final, plus I had to finish the study guide. I was trying to figure out how I would be able to photograph enough people and their tattoos to get my work submitted by this weekend. After I got off the phone with Leigh, I paid my toll, accepted my quarter, and got onto the Beltway.

That's when the tears started. I cried the whole way up, and it wasn't til I was about 15 minutes away from school that I got the sobbing under control.

It was quicksand - once I started, I kept bringing up every single thing that made me unhappy. Such topics included Kevin, David, my future (lack of) job, my supposed best friend, getting married and/or having children, my mom and stress over getting all the studying done.

I hate this. I hate doubting myself. I hate going to school, I hate this corporate University, I hate group projects. I'm so lonely. My half of my friends are leaving next semester. I miss having a boy hold me and hug me. I hate feeling like this is the rest of my life.

I'm so unhappy, and I don't know what to do. I don't know how to fix this. No matter what I try, it just keeps sucking. I don't know what to do to make it better, I don't know what adjustments s to search out to make it (and me) better.

It only hit me as I was nearing AU that I still clutched my quarter in my left hand. The irony of it made me laugh out loud. I had the change, but I sure didn't have anything to fucking believe in.