Writing is my life. Forever. I want to be an author when I grow up. I write all the time. When I'm happy, sad, angry...it's an escape. Oh, and I love green hearts. I absolutely love them.
Last night, I babysat for the children I babysit most frequently. So much so, that Paul knows what time they go to bed, and will call accordingly once they're asleep.
Freshman me, two years ago, looked over at Paul, who was sitting just a few feet away on the weight room floor. The previous day before I had noticed him, alone, not really sure who he could talk to.
He walked me to singing class. I was a little late, and he begged me to linger just a little bit more. I shook my head, smiling wistfully at him, and went into the classroom.
Paul was unhappy as I listened to more music with Jason. He sat on a chair, twiddling his thumbs. Then, suddenly, he jumped up and marched to stand next to me.
Two days ago in singing class, Mr. Andrews let us loose. He had to go work on some things having to do with the musical, so he allowed us to do whatever we wanted.
For the past few days, Paul and I have kept at it. Play fighting, wrestling, grabbing. Sally likes to keep a good distance away, smirking at me.
I felt myself being lifted in the air and laid on my back. "Lay flat," Paul ordered, grinning mischievously. He grabbed my ankles and made my legs flat. "What are you doing?" I asked. He chuckled.
Paul did "flirtatious" things with both me and Sally the entire night, but the way he did them differed greatly.
His hand paused from where he had been petting Maddie's soft, black fur. "What?" He asked softly, pretending he hadn't heard me. I repositioned myself in the water uncomfortably.
As it turned out, Paul was able to go to Sally's. So as Sally and I sat on her bed, she laughed as I kept looking eagerly out the window to see if Paul had come yet. "Chillax, Em," she said, grinning.
That night, I did not sleep. All I could see was his face, his pained eyes, the hurt in those irises. The next day, I had to take the SAT, and I knew that Paul was there as well.
I am going to throw up. I am literally going to bend down and throw up. Paul and I were arguing. About all the usual stuff. He was very, very angry.
"Hey." I looked at the text from Paul. "Hey." We started talking. At first the conversation was casual. But then... "I know why you were mad" he said. I opened my mouth.
Back on the couch, I sat, next to Paul. There came a time where my leg was literally over his, our ankles twisted together. It was something *so* hard to miss, yet he looked like he didn't even...
Paul kept drawing people and I kept cutting them out. It was fun, but so childish. I had to keep reminding myself he was a five year old in a sixteen year old's body.
"Em, choose a color for your eyes," Paul said. I sighed. "Hang on a second." I finished the round with a shriek and a laugh, looking at Sally. Then, I turned around, making my face go blank.
Sally and I stayed there for a good ten minutes, before we gave in to Paul's begging. A little bit of pleasure came from making him upset. I noticed it, and knew it was wrong.
Sally came in and hugged me tight. "What's going on?" She whispered. I told her about what Paul had done when she'd been in the kitchen. She stared at me, shaking her head.
We hung out yesterday. Me, him, Sally, Carrie, and later Heather, at Sally's mom's house. First, he and I played chess and he won after about seven minutes.
Oh my gosh... ... I'm on the phone with Paul. He's been making snide comments about Tom lately, and he made another one under his breath.
I got new glasses. They're glasses I'll wear when I don't feel like wearing contacts.
It's only been five days since Paul left for Canada, and I miss him. For two of those days, he didn't talk to me, but for three, we *did* talk. So I shouldn't miss him that much, but I do...
Finally, we were off the phone. Immediately, he texted the group iMessage. I started speaking Dutch to him, insulting him. He spoke back. Sally had no idea what was going on.
I stared at my phone, which was buzzing once again with an incoming call. You can guess who it was. "Hey," I said, staring into space. "I married Carrie," was the first thing out of his mouth.
And then he comes along and makes you remember very, very vividly. I sat reading The Great Gatsby at the kitchen table after really only seeing Paul a few times that day.
I sat myself down in Algebra, the day after Valentine's Day, my heart still hurting, but my eyes dry. The girl that sits next to me turned and smiled. "Hey," I smiled back.
That night, the night of the day dedicated to love, Paul and I had another conversation. That night, our relationship hit a very large speed bump. Or...so I thought then. I finally confronted him.
Still completely embarrassed, I grabbed Carrie, who held her bunch of roses dreamily in her arms. "Walk me to history?" I asked her.
Jason walked through the door, as calm and cool as ever, and I took a breath. I held a Hershey's chocolate kiss in my hands, and tossed it back and forth, one hand to the other. Mr.
I ate lunch with him and Heather. I tried not to look at him, but it was hard when all he did was talk to me.
This morning, I woke up. And I took a breath. And I decided that I could do this. I could go to school, and put on a smile, and no one would know my pain.
Last night, I asked Paul what all the fuss during lunch was about. I asked him about telling me not to walk so close to him. He told me it was all a joke.
I got back to my seat, and Tom came over. "Uh, what are you doing?" I asked, picking up my second music book and flipping to "Nelly Bly". "It's still mixed parts," he said.
I turned around and just decided to go a couple seats back to stand next to a friendly-looking bass. There was no way I was standing next to Jason.
French class was difficult. Tom sat next to me, and kept poking me, begging me to know what was the matter. I just kept my head on my arms, closing my eyes, trying to keep in the tears.
I was starting to feel a little bit better. I'd texted Heather and asked her if what Tom had said was true, but she hadn't replied.
As I stood with Heather, talking, I felt someone's hand run through my hair, and turned around. Paul stood, grinning at me. He did the same thing to Heather, who glared playfully at him.
Last night, Paul wanted to talk on the phone, but I was watching the newest episode of Downton Abbey, my eyes glued to the screen. I told him so, and he was a bit annoyed.
I felt Jason's eyes on me during singing class today. Those green irises gazed up at me from where they had been previously scanning something on his phone.
Confusion. The main thing I feel currently. Last night, after that last post beginning with "we talked", we talked a lot more.
We talked. Apparently, it was a joke. I don't see how it was a joke. It was pretty believable to me. I think he just wishes it was a joke. I'm so confused.
I...just don't get it. Today I was texting Paul, Sally, and Heather in the group iMessage, talking about what classes we were taking next year.
I got home, and, yes, we did call. But not before Sally and I had a bit of a conversation. "Paul: "Hey Em. *TACKLE*", Sally texted, and I giggled. " x 193838191847," I texted back.
There was literally ice stuck to my hair. Sally and I went into the bathroom, where I saw how Paul had seen me for the past couple of hours.
I had great difficulty in getting my socks off. They were almost frozen to my feet. "We need to get you to the emergency room," Paul growled.
We walked to where an upside down pot sat on top of the snow. "There's one!" Paul cried, running over to it and lifting it up. A baby pine tree poked out of the snow.
Paul kept at it. Every time I got up he'd have his arm around me and we'd be tumbling into the snow. He got up, opening his arms. "How about a hug?" He asked innocently.
I was pretty tired from running in the snow. Paul thoroughly enjoyed messing with me, throwing snow at me and grabbing me and wrestling with me.
"Hey, look!" Paul pointed to a huge bush covered in snow. "Our hiding place!" He beckoned us to follow him, crawling into a hole in the bush. I crawled in after him, and Sally followed from behind.
Ugh, okay, I tried. And I got a few points. And it was pretty intense. I did a lot of blocking and put up quite a fight. But in the end, Paul one the World Cup finals.
We received 2 feet of snow at our town. It snowed from Thursday night all through Friday and a bit of Saturday. So.
Expect a looooot of W...TIN posts tomorrow. Today, I went to Paul's house. And my heart is still racing..
Jenny edited her picture and made it black and white. Tell me if you want to see it in color. Aren't we cute together. ;].
Well... <3 Paul. Acted weird. And not the good way. I found myself feeling stupider and stupider each time I looked at him. He was keeping his distance, very much so, and it hurt a great deal.
Paul got his braces off. Just when I thought I couldn't think of him as anymore perfect, he now has a shining smile of perfect, straightened teeth. Oh, the cruelty.
The story rages on. Yesterday morning I sat on the couch in my dad's office, when Paul sent a text to the group conversation with me, Heather, and Sally. It was a picture.
The rest of the night was just like that. Paul touching me, Paul taking my phone and kissing it, Paul doing flirty things and then realizing "we shouldn't do that" and then laughing.
Paul had been poking me and getting close to me and touching me for a while, and it annoyed me. Because I was trying to get over him and when he did stuff like that I couldn't.
Paul kept acting weird the entire night. I smirked up at Sally and at Heather, who was on FaceTime because she couldn't make it. "You guys wanna see how Jason put his arm around me?" I asked.
And things got more and more twisted. Paul pulled out his iPad, unlocking it and going to Sims. "Oh no, not Sims," I moaned. We both had Sims on our iPads, but I never really play it anymore.
For the longest time I've been friends with this adorable guy that I met on the Internet. He's from Texas and has the same religious views that I do.
Still smiling over my victory of not messing everything with this guy up, I sang with utmost vigor whatever song Mr. Andrews wanted us to sing.
"Was it a mistake?" I thought, staring at Jason's Facebook post that I'd just liked. I couldn't help it. He was such an amazing writer. It was impossible not to give him props for his inspiring posts.
Why on earth was Paul here. He kept grinning, nodding at Jason and giving me this knowing look that made me nervous. Jason completely ignored him.
I walked into the library for my free period, looking for any familiar face. Period one and three were my new frees, which was pretty different from last semester.
Paul had me walk him to his art class again, waiting outside of my own singing class door. I was still giddy from Jason's unexpected hug, and excitedly retold the entire story.
"Yeah," I sighed. "I'm super tired." I stifled a yawn as I kept talking to Jenny before singing class started. The door swung open, and I turned to see who it was.
"OMG EM!!" Heather screamed through text. I was in a group iMessage with Sally, Paul, and Heather, telling them about the things going on with Jason. "He's soooo cute" I texted, smiling slightly.
And things kept getting weirder with Jason. I thought it was just a one time thing...but a few days after our conversation, I realized this could be solid.
"Why is he doing this?" I thought, staring at the guy in front of me.
Oh, Sandy Hook... Dear Sandy Hook. What have you to say. Do you cry... Do you cry. For the children yesterday. My Sandy Hook... Poor Sandy Hook... I ask you, please don't cry.
You think you're so darn clever, You think, "She's met her match". You think you've fin'lly shut me out, And secured the sturdy latch.
A girl is glaring at her closed bedroom door like she's hoping it'll burst into flames. "It's not fair," she thinks, fingers curling into fists.
hopeful so hopeful that this was for the best hopeful so hopeful that my mind will be at rest hopeful so hopeful that though I feel such pain, I'm hopeful so hopeful I can be happy again..
broken. so broken. such pain do I feel. broken. so broken. it won't ever heal. broken. so broken. my life is a blur. broken. so broken. cannot find a cure. broken. so broken. my tears never cease.
If you're having some trouble finding, What some call, "a cloud's silver lining" Remember that it, Could be a millimeter thick... Just a millimeter. And it will be shining.
Look, I'm not saying I disrespect Atheists or Agnostics or anything like that. But something is stirring inside of me, and it's something my brain and my heart are telling me to share.
~*~ I talked to you today, Didn't think you were impressed... With how I did my makeup Or the way that I was dressed. I laughed with you tonight, And you smiled, ear to ear.
He's tall and he's skinny, With bright blue eyes. And he's always there When I need a good cry. His arms are the best place To go when I'm weary, Of the world around me. The days that are dreary.
On a kitchen table, Far, far away... There's a land, delicious. Made of food, they say. With a pancake sun, And powdered sugar snow. That falls down gently On Breakfast Land below.
~*~ We talked a little last night, Much to my content. Yeah, you were pretty talkative. Lots of texts were sent. So today I decided to text you. "omg, like hey." But you did not reply.
1. New symbol on my pieces: ~*~ means that the piece is about my personal life, if not already stated. Things like MWH are true, because at the very beginning, I say they're all real.
~*~ It's not like you're a stranger. We're friends, pretty good. But when I saw you, there, today... I got a change of mood. Dressed in a crisp, grey suit. Neck wrapped in a pink silk tie.
Yesterday, Carrie had texted me the last picture they had taken of me in my grassy gown. I had to do a double take. "Whoa," I whispered. I had one milky hand on my reddish blonde hair.
I was speechless. Absolutely speechless at the picture that stood before me on my computer screen. I was in my grass dress, looking off into the sky. My arms were gracefully lifted up towards the sun.
"Em." Paul texted later. "You have to see these pictures. They're amazing." "Oh." I texted back. "Let me see." Paul sent me one. It was the picture of me looking up.
I lifted my back from the dirt, pulling my arms free of the grass's green grip. Paul's eyes widened. "Someone take pictures!" he yelled.
"Ugh, there's grass up my nose!" I squealed as Paul busily began sprinkling grass over my mouth. That wasn't the best idea. Paul laughed as I began spitting blades of grass from my mouth.
Me and the girls were swinging when Paul got up and laid on the grass. "Hey!" I called out. "What are you doing?" "Relaxing," he called back, closing his eyes.
~*~ True story. <3 "Did we lose them?" I turned my head over my shoulder, anxiously tucking a strand of my long hair over my ear. Paul looked behind him, his fists curled together.
~*~ What is this little theory This stupid idea of yours. "You need a break. I need a break." Right. That's true. Of course. There's an actual reason. One you cannot say.
I accidentally reposted an opuss post for a more mature audience but I didn't mean to.
~*~ Do you not know That you're tearing me apart. That you're ripping to shreds Both my mind and my heart. I feel like crying almost every day From the things that you do. And the words that you say.
Warning: Do not read this unless you have read the 22 other parts. <3 "My beautiful Tasha," Marcus touches her cheek. "You are so perfect. So gentle and meek.
~*~ Have you ever felt a sudden surge of hatred for the person you love. When you're suddenly so angry by the power they have over you.
"M-Marcus," she whispers. "You...you are here." "Of course," he said softly. "I won't leave you, dear." And Tasha starts crying, For the tenth time that week.
Evil Girl volunteers, Volunteers every day. At the small local hospital On Harrison Way. She does it to keep Her rep as a saint. It's a great rep to have, That she'll never taint.
(Formerly known as Tasha and Marcus) "Tasha?" he asks. She stares at his face. "Why are you here. At this random place?" She can't say a word. Can't open her lips. "You're shiv'ring," he says.
~*~ What more can I say. I'm at it again. He's so beautiful. He's so perfect. And I've fallen. For someone who, according to society, would be completely below me.
That night, Paul begged for me to tell him everything. Everything I wrote here.