Wednesday, October 13

B word is only a word

His name is Barry. He is my past, but my past is gone and the things I have done don't matter, because I may have done some bad things, but I know that what I've done does not mean that is who I am.
I am my own person, with a past, a presant, and a future, and nothing can hold me from it.
His name is Barry, he was my first love, and I though I hope to never see his face again, I know that he can't hurt me anymore.
His name is Barry. He is just another name.

Simply Mark.

And even if your whisper eats my ear, your voice shall be the only song I long to hear...


One thing A Few things A Big list of things I Adore about Mark

  • The way his eyes roll back in his head when he kisses me, like it's the most sensationally mind numbing experience of his life
  • The simple, sleepy smile he gets on his face when I rub/pet/scratch the back of his neck while he's driving
  • The way he seems to get so much joy out of tickling me and hearing me laugh like that
  • The way he "nom nom" kisses my neck while he's tickling me
  • The "nom nom" kisses in general
  • How he always answers his phone when I call while we're arguing, no matter how angry he may be
  • He'll argue with me, because he's as invested in helping "us" to work out as I am
  • The way he looks at me
  • The way he touches my face when we're laying together
  • The way he holds me close and tight when we fall asleep
  • The way he kisses me before I can kiss him
  • His silly "kiss me" face
  • His face... well, his appearance in general. Let's face it, he's a pretty handsome guy!
  • The way he puts his arms behind my shoulders and his hands in my hair and lets his face lean so close to mine when he's on top when we're going at it ;]
  • How he doesn't have one particular smell, but a combination, shampoo, soap, laudry detergent/fabric softener, and deodorant. There's always something to pick out.
  • The tone change in his voice after he's argued with someone in the house, then talks to me
  • How his sense of humor matches mine
  • How he can make me laugh even when I don't want to
  • How he tries to get me to tell him whats on my mind when I'm upset
  • How he helps, how he talks to me when I tell him what's wrong and he suddenly seems so much older than he is
  • The way he walks and shakes his butt a little sometimes. So cute.
  • The way I could look at him for hours and not get sick of it, only finding more things to like about him
  • The way he looks when he sleeps
  • The way his face smooshes to the pillow when he lays on his side
  • How he always thinks of me when he's making his grocery selection
  • How he just kind of collapses when I rub his cute little bottom
  • The way we can tease each other and always know we're joking
  • But say something when the other makes a jab thats a little too hard
  • How he'll always accept me for who I am, and forgive my shortcomings
  • All of those annoying things he does, especially how he's always right, because without those stupidly annoying things, he wouldn't be the Mark that I care so much about.

Math

Math has never been one of my strong suits. And now I'm failing math with a 46.5%. I failed the test, got a zero on a pop quiz, and didn't turn in a homework assignment. The professor said that If you have lower than a 50% you should think seriously about dropping the class because there was no way you'd be getting a 70% (C- passing grade) by the end of the semester. She proceeded to say that we could drop a homework assignment and a quiz grade so if we'd gotten zeros we didn't have to worry. In other words, my 46.5% F won't be so significant after those grades are gone.
So I think she was saying we should drop just to freak us out or be a bitch. :|

Fear, Not Sorrow

Watch out, this is a long one. A lot of stuff had happened when I wrote this, and it's about 5 of the pages in that yellow notebook.
Also this wasn't actually yesterday, i'm just typing down what I wrote in my notebook. I believe the date of this was actually the 7th but I can't QUITE recall....


Yesterday wasn't all that awesome, but it ended better than I expected I've been a little hormonal for the past few days, so I haven't quite been myself. Also, yesterday I started working out, so I was sore. So I texted Mark to see if he'd come by my house to get me. He was off work by the time I got home, but I wanted to take a shower and such. He said "K, I'll leave soon" I watched the Big C while I waited, after which I didn't get anything from him, so I started watching Weeds and getting a little impatient. About half way through I got a text that just said "Soon" So I replied "If You say so" to which I got a few question marks. I then proceeded to go on about how he said soon over an hour ago and I didn't believe that soon meant what it implied.
My phone started ringing almost right after I sent that text. Mark then explained that he had lost track of time while on skype with one of his friends. Of course I was a little more than upset. Then we had a back and forth of "whats wrong?", "nothing", "whats wrong?", "its not important", "Arielle, what's wrong?", "I just told you." He huffed a little and argued a bit. But ended up saying he was on his way and he'd text me when he got to my place. That's our thing, we text to say "here" before coming in.
So he did that, but stayed in his car, so I went outside and got in his car. He once again asked me what was wrong, his sad eyes looking grey. Once again, I told him it was nothing, but we both knew that something was wrong. We stayed silent through the while 10 minute car ride that seemed so much longer even though he sped a little. We remained silent for a few hours. It was god awful. I texted Joseph multiple times wondering if he might be able to come and get me but I could never give him a straight answer of if i wanted him to or not. Something in me didn't want to leave.
I ended up laying on the floor a while at which time Mark got down and started rubbing my back, and soon he was laying next to me, speaking calmly and quietly asking me to please tell him what was wrong lately because he'd noticed I wasn't acting normal. I didn't really know, so I teared up a little and said I didn't know and shook my confused tears away. I very often can't figure myself out, so this happens a lot.
He said he really wanted me to tell him what was upsetting me and I thought a bit back to the day after my birthday, when my mom tried to convince my dad to say "Happy Birthday" to me. It didn't work, but once again it made me think over my living arrangements. I started, again, to think of moving out. But the only thing stopping me is my mom. I'm afraid for her, afraid of what my dad will do to her without me there as a buffer for his verbal rage. So I said, "my dad".
Mark asked me what my dad had done now and it hurt to think about, it felt really silly to be upset over something like this, but I was. He then asked what my dad had said, and I told him the truth: nothing. It was true, he hadn't said anything to me for months, And that's what i'd told Mark. He wondered out loud if silence was what bothered me then he told me that 10% of what happens in the world is uncontrollable by me, the other 90% was my reaction to it. This is true, but not easy. He then made a comment about how he didn't like the fact that I'd lied about what was wrong and hadn't told him. I've forgotten what else was said at that point though I know I made a mention along the line of me having to go home, then telling Mark I didn't want him to waste gas and that I'd text Joseph.
I then exiled myself to a lonely chair away from him while he took out his frustrations by beating up other people on xbox. I'd try, usually unsuccessfully to fight back tears, and Mark would look in my direction, a look in his eyes like he wished he knew what to do.
When he ended a round in the game I got up and crawled next to him on the bed, laying down and crying. I've never cried in a boy's arms like that before, I sobbed and sobbed and sobbed some more. He just held me close to him, his head resting on my shoulder blades. "I'm sorry that whatever is hurting you is causing you this much pain" he whispered. And when my sobs finally died down I snuggled into him, burying my head into his chest. It was a comfort, for him to hold me like that.
"This isn't sorrow." He'd said, "This is fright. Pure terror." And he held me closer as I realized he was right, and tears rolled out again. It was quiet for a while before he whispered very quietly a plead to help, "Please... Tell me what you're so scared of."
And I told him my fear- well part of it. I talked about how I've been thinking of moving out but was afraid of what would happen to my mom. I was afraid to leave her alone with my dad. Mark understood and told me, "the thing is, as sad as it is, is that your survival is most important. Say you're in a car with four other people. No matter how important those other four people are to you, your survival is most going to benefit you." I knew he was right, but I would still rather die than let that man hurt my mother.

Mark got me laughing again after that, and a short bought of silence by telling me about the first time he ever had a gobstopper. <3

Wishing, Wondering.

Been thinking about Micki a lot lately, found the newspaper with the front page article on her death in one of my guinea pig's baskets under her cage. It said that she was hit from behind and that Sam, the girl she was with, had tried to pull her off the road. What was Micki thinking? I wonder what her last words were... I wonder why she didn't get out of the road. I wonder how the lady that hit her didn't see her. Maybe they were just past the crest of the hill... I also wonder if Nora's soul theory is correct, and everyone's destiny and the moves between birth and that destiny are planned out by us before we're born. If it's true, why would Micki choose such a fate. To abandon her body and life at the age of only 15. I also wonder if people secretly, subconsciously know they'll die young. Thats why the good die young. They want to leave their mark in the small amount of time they have... So they become those happy, fun, energetic, beautiful individuals, captivating as many people as they cane before they know they have to go.
Which brings about another serious question: When its our time to die, do we instinctively know it? Which would/could mean that Nora's theory may be right... I think about her way more at night, Micki. And tend not to go over the speed limit but under by 5 or 10 when I'm driving home, depending on if someone's following me or not. Every roadside pedestrian I pass becomes her, and somehow, by safely passing them, I'm saving her, if only in the fragments of my memory. I wish she were still around. I miss her. I miss her too much.

19 and All the Other Ages Before

Yesterday was my 19th birthday. It was wonderful. I got Repo! The Genetic Opera from my mama, and the promise of books in the mail. Mark gave me three beautiful flowers that look and smell like sunshine, and a large delicious piece of chocolate cake with candles in the shape of a "1" and a "9". He lit them, I blew them out, and couldn't stop smiling. Everyone who saw or I told thought it was really sweet. I've decided that Mark is wonderful! haha! It really was a good birthday despite the fact that I didn't get much time to myself. It's all okay. Mama bought me food and stuffs from the coffee shop. I went in and they all yelled happy birthday, and told me my mom would pay for anything I got while I was there when she came in later that afternoon. It was the coolest thing! So that was super cool. Also I didn't have to deal with dad, which was also nice.
It never feels any different being technically a year older. In my English class we read an essay that said you're never just 19 or 12 or any other age, but all of the years that preceded this one. So not only am I 19, but also 18, 17, 16, 15, 14, 13, 12, 11, 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, and 1. I believe this essay was by an author that I'm not all so fond of, but she had a point. We don't always "act" our given number age, but sometimes all those before it. Makes sense. At least I think so.

Yellow Notebook

Recently for school I bought a bunch of new notebooks, and theres this one. A yellow, ordinary 1 subject, college ruled notebook, and something about it keeps it with me. I confide in it all of the thoughts I havent had time to type up on here. So the next series of posts will be from the past few weeks of certain things I've written in my notebook, including two from today.
Just wanted to explain why there were so many from today.