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I'm writing this for myself, and myself only. If it's not put under private, it'll be a miracle. I don't like private that much, though. I think I would be a good celebrity, only because I hate secrets and hiding so much. Though I would be too nervous to try.Anyway, I just wanted to write, to ponder my thoughts, to allow a freestyle thought process. If I don't allow myself to write it down, I just get confused. I get confused a lot though. As I am right now. I'm not quite sure what I'm confused about. I want to do so much, but keep telling myself, "That won't be accepted. That's not allowed. That's wrong." but the other side of me is saying, "Screw right and wrong, who's to say it's not allowed, and What do you care if those people don't accept it?" But I do care, and that's what's gotten me confused in the first place. Of course this is all dealing with the one and only ass. I don't think I still care for him like I did. I know it could come back, if I allowed it, but that's just it: I'm not allowing it. So, shouldn't I feel powerful? Shouldn't I feel like I'm in control? Well, I don't. I feel like it's everyone else controlling everything. The feelings I have are pushed upon me, the thoughts that enjoy running through my head are not my own, and the actions I am taking are not those that I am wanting to take. I still want to get him alone, to ask him these questions I keep supressing. I want to ask him if he's happy, if he still cares for me at all. I want to ask him what he was going to say to me at the dance. I want to talk to him like we used to be able to talk, and I want to flirt and act like I used to. But that's not accepted. We've broken up and I've moved on. But as soon as I say hi to him, or giggle in his presence, I'm accused of still being in love with him. I'm told that I'm pathetic and hopeless. I just want it to end, but no one will allow it to. Do I sound a little bitter? It's because I am. No matter how much I don't want this to hurt, it will. It always will, because I cared so much, I let him have so much of me, and it was a total rejection, and he can give no reason whatsoever for it. He can't tell me, "She's prettier, she's nicer, she's smarter, she's better at something," because she's not, she's not any of those things. I'm much prettier! He said so himself, just over a week ago, the first time I've talked to him, and laughed, and had fun, and not tried to injure him, in a long time. I'm much nicer, I can tell from the way Mark talks about her. I'm much smarter, I think we ALL know that. (Check out the webpage: http://homepage.aol.com/lilmls) and I know that I'm better at everything. He told me that too. Not by my prodding, or asking, or even my egotistical boasting. He made it plain while he was trying to get me to fold his pants for him. All on his own, he said I "could do it the best." Of course, he was talking about the pants, but then he went on, as everyone started giggling, he said, "Well, that too, but..." I didn't ask for that, and I quickly folded the pants just to get the subject changed. I should've said something that would've killed him like, "And I've gotten much better at that since we broke up" or something. It would've shocked the shit out of him, and I would've loved it. But I don't really care. I can deal with it, and I can deal without it. I don't feel the need to hurt him and make him feel the pain I've went through. I don't feel the need to make him suffer. I don't see a real reason to make him suffer, because I'm not in all that much pain anymore.I'm just still curious. I want to know exactly what he told my mom, and I want to know what he was going to tell me at the dance. And I want to know why he gives me these little looks, and why he doesn't want me near sean, and....ugh, all these little things that I can never ask him because it will be considered an "I still love him move," when all I want to do is move on.He was online just a few minutes ago. I didn't realize for a long time, but I checked to see if there was anyone on that I would want to talk to, and I saw he was online. I wanted to im him. I wanted to ask him to teach me how to play chess, because I've got that and checkers and Reversi or something like that on my instant messanger, and those games don't take forever to load. I've always wanted to play chess, but since my brother tried to teach me, it's been painful to try. My brother loved (loves, not like he's dead or anything) chess, too. Sometimes I think it would be easier on my psychological and mental health if my brother was dead. But how horrible am I to think that? I'm a terrible person. I don't deserve to live.How easy is that to write? It's what I've been taught. I say someone should die, I automatically tell myself I'm horrible and don't deserve to live. It's like a reflex. I don't mean to do it, it's just moral to tell yourself you're better off dead. Great. Now I'm questioning societies ability to raise moral and healthy children. At 4 a.m. When I should be asleep. When I should actually be getting ready to wake up, if it were any normal day. But it's not. It's spring break. So I'm up at 4 a.m. pondering my feelings for a guy that I know I no longer care about, but don't know what is "allowed" for me to do around him. WHAT THE HECK?!Oh my gosh, I got off topic, didn't I? On One Tree Hill earlier (Last night?) Brooke and Payton and the rest of the girls on the cheer squad were in a competition. Well, since Payton helped Lucas cheat on Brooke, Brooke has decided that Payton isn't her best friend anymore. But at the cheer competition, Brooke and Payton were joking around and all this, just because they had called a cheer truce. I was not believing it for a second. It was ridiculous. There is no way that Brooke could've put that behind her so fast, if even for only a weekend. I would've still been wanting to punch Payton in the face. At the begining of the series, I wanted to punch Brooke, and Payton was that girl that you just had to say, "I know how ya feel, girl!" but now, I can't stand looking at Payton, and however much I still hate Brooke (Come on, her name is Brooke, which automatically reminds me of little miss Brook Harless. UGH!) I feel so sorry for Brooke, because Payton was her BEST FRIEND and the show never ever shows any of them with anyone else, so I'm thinking that she was her only friend. I don't know. I still want to punch Thaddeus. I want to just haul off and punch him as hard as I can. But I'm dissociating him. I'm making him two different people. The one that I dated, and the one I have to deal with on a day to day basis. I'm making everything go away, and it feels good, to not see the guy that hurt me, to not see the guy that made me weak with just his touch, even four months into the 'relationship', if you can even call it that.What hurts the most, though, was something that he said the other day. I was telling him that I may get the chance to go back to Florida and I said, "This time, I'll make it a much much better trip." His reply? "I don't know, I can't even remember a single thing that happened when we were in Florida."I couldn't even think of a decent response, or a comeback, or anything. I thought immediately, "He's saying that to hurt me. He can't have forgotten all of that." But then I realized, he could be serious. He is such a jerk that he could've forgotten the three moments that we shared and that have become so...monumental to me. He could have completely forgotten that he meant the world to me, and vice versa, at one point. I still think he could have said that to hurt me, but it's a fifty fifty. And it did hurt, very bad. It made me angrier than it hurt, though. I got mad that I allowed such a jerk to be my first kiss. My only kiss, at age 17, and he forgot that he gave it to me, he forgot where, when, everything. And I'm mad at myself because he's still the ONLY guy I've kissed. I don't want him to be. I want to kiss other guys, lots of other guys. I want to just once, though, right in front of him kiss another girl, just to make him mad. Because he was always begging me to, and I wouldn't. But I want him to understand fully that I'm the best girl he'll ever ever ever have in his arms, and he gave that up. I want him to suffer, emotionally now. Not physically, emotionally. He has NEVER suffered emotionally. He's a jock, a football jerk. The only pain he knows is physical. He doesn't understand feelings. The worst feeling he's ever had is an argument with his sister. Or when he had to break up with a girl in his eighth grade year. He cried on my shoulder. I was always the one he came to at school when he was upset. The we started dating and he never said anything to me. I know I ruined our friendship. I knew when we started going out that I would. I told him. In a letter, I still have it. He wrote back and said that only one of his relationships didn't end in the best of friends, and he was still okay friends with that girl. I told him that if we ended and I couldn't be around him, couldn't be freinds with him that it was all his fault.And now, I'm blaming that on myself too. Gosh, it just feels nice to get all of this out. I don't want to put it under private. Not that many people read this anyway. It's a nice long entry, everyone will get so very bored around the first few sentences. Who wants to read about little old me, anyway??

Okay, g...

Okay, going through my head right now??? EXERCISE, EXERCISE, EXERCISE!!! TAN, TAN TAN!!! EXERCISE! TAN! EXERCISE! TAN! So, what do I do?? I do two hundred situps in five minutes on my first night of exercise in three years...Smart, huh? Is two hundred too much? I think that since it's spring now, I'll start staying after to run. Yes, running should get me into some kind of shape. Also this thing I have with the sit ups. Something with the thighs. I hate my thighs. And my twiggy little arms. There's so little that someone could wrap their fingers around my biceps. I need to do something with my arms. My calves are pretty good. I'd like bigger boobs, but I doubt there's an exercise for that. But I'd like to flatten my tummy a little. I have love handles. Yes, I do admit it. I might look like a thin little slut, but my body is no where near in shape. I just have high metabolism. Which sucks, because that will go far far away some day and I'll be stuck with all this fat that my body isn't eating anymore. So me, eating? Won't happen. Not like it happens that often, anyway. I don't know. Maybe I'm just scared about college, and I know I can't control it, so I'm taking it out on my body. Shoot, I'm dark right now, though, comparatively.

Well, I...

Well, I don't really know what to say. I know that once I start, it will all just tumble out, but that would probably take hours. And hours. And hours. Maybe not, but it shall take some time because a lot has happened and a lot more will. There are so many questions in my life right now. Should I? Can I? WIll I? Will he? Can we? What will everyone else say? That one I'm not so worried about, just as long as the opinions and yelling and screaming are kept to a minimum. Maybe I can just type the biggest part and everyone will understand what I'm saying. Not like anyone but Lena reads this journal, but that's the way I like it. Thaddeus told my mother on Friday, during our band pictures, that he made a mistake and has broken up with her. And that he has much deeper feelings for me than he originally thought. So my brain explodes in anger and my heart jumps into my throat as I hear that from my mom on the way home. The worst part is that's not the first time that day that I heard the "Still has feelings for you" part. I'm not technically acknowledging it, though, not until it is said from his mouth to my ears. There's no use, and I'm not the one that shall talk first. He's told the entire world, basically. Everyone, including my mother! But until he says something straight to me, I'm not mentioning it, I'm not letting him even know that I know.I do love him, I always have, and I feel that I always will. But does hat mean that I can trust him? No. Will he succeed in making me trust him again? I don't know, because I don't know how I ever can. But I'm willing to try. That's the first time I've wrote/said that. I don't know if I'll be able to. I just this week was able to have an actual conversation with him. And it's been 2 months and 6 days, and 13 hours. Yes, I counted. I always do. I have a small obsession with it. Everyone is OCD in some way. This is mine. But he said he made a mistake. He knows he made his mistake, that I knew way back the day that we broke up. I just accepted that it was over. Just now. And now he doesn't want it to be. AUGH! I don't know waht to do!