Wearing a shirt, clinging to my soldier.

Tonights a bad night

I look like a normal girl. Pierced nose, crappily done fake nails and bleached hair a la Rogue (X-Men). I am not, fat, nor am I skinny. My boobs suddenly popped out of my chest. I can’t walk gracefully in heels, but I can walk, thank you very much.I get overly emotional at the littlest things, and find myself always either wanting change, or hating it.

My mother has worked factory jobs since I was little, and therefore takes the nightshift. She was often gone after dinner and dinner was actually the only time I saw her. My father however, I saw constantly. A father who is paralyzed, and used to be a drunk… And commander of the local Amvets.And daughter took care of father without a word, and didn’t notice she had no friends as she couldn’t go outside. When mother lost her job, we all uprooted and moved. And I was bullied, harrassed and teased because I had absolutely no social skills, and would rather stay alone.

A kid broke my great grandmothers locket that year. Grabbed it from around my neck and broke the chain and clasp. It was gorgeous. Pure yellow gold and with ornate flowers. Everytime I see gold, I think I hate it because it reminds me of how sad that still makes me. It was my favorite piece of jewelry.

After a few years, and a guy who thought it was his God given right to not only hit me, but slam me up against the lockers in the middle of lunch, in front of the entire cafeteria… We moved again.

I didn’t take anything for an answer. Yes, No. I didn’t care. i was the girl with 5 inch hoops, 10 inch wedges, bells dangling from every spot on my body and a gaudy punk rock style. My hair reached my waist. In one year, a guy sprained both of my ankles and locked me in a mezzanine, 5 guys attacked me in a hallway, leaving me with a scar on my wrist so badly I can easily point it out, and I went on the worst crash diet in my entire life.

Mind you, I had been starving for years. Cutting food down graduallyuntil that year, I was eating apples and drinking water. Nothing else. If I was good that week, I got a turkey sandwhich on wheat with mustard. The highlight. If I was bad, I didn’t eat. Period.

I also began cutting and burning rituals which I still have a hard time giving up. Even though my arms have been razor free for 2 years… maybe 3.

After coming to what I saw as my true self and being the happiest I had been in years, we moved again.

I was lost, scared and confused. A freshman who’s new group of friends were all suicidal. That year I discovered My Chemical Romance. But that’s just a random fact that has nothing to do with this.

In February, I was faced with the greatest amount of depression I had ever faced. My cutting? Daily. And my friends were worried about me. I passed out while walking down a hallway, and had no strength to stand, so I crawled to the nurse, only to have her give me crackers and sprite and kick me out of her office for wasting time. My conselours did nothing. My church turned its back on me. I was alone.

So after an intervention, I had everything ready. I was going to die.

The date was February 28th, 2008.

That day, a guy asked me out. His name was Chris, and he was geekishly handsome. He wanted to go to a movie that Staurday. I decided to live, because everyone deserves a chance. Through all of my pain of recovery, he pushed me to live. But that is all I can thank him for. He cheated on me with another guy whom I had met and risked my life in the process. He beat me, he raped me and he intimidated me. He forced me to pay for dates when he was the one who suggested them and yet I was so willing to do anything to save that relationship. The one relationship that shouldn’t have mattered.

It was a long time. My parents and my friends gave up. Chris and I were in a nightly struggle of screaming at each other then making up because I didn’t want to go to bed angry. He proposed, if you can call it that, with a silver ring with a baguette blue topaz. As more time went on, more pain inflicted and 2 years wasted on something destined to fail, we broke up over a girl.

A girl who I really did love, and cherish and admire. Carrie never judged me, never harmed me. And was completely gorgeous. I told her every single day. And she kept doing drugs and kept risking this amazing chance she had to go to college and get a degree that I wasn’t ready to ( and probably never will be ) receive. I have kissed her lips and imagined doing so too many times. And currently am obsessed with making her hate me, so that I will never ruin what she has. (Sick, isn’t it?)

And in the midst of all that drama, and the above paragraph that makes me believe that either 1. I really am a lesbian after all or 2. I really need Matt to come home. or maybe 3. This is going to be some sappy romance someday….

He gave me a backrub. A mother fucking backrub. And I took a rain check. On a back rub. And after ditching Chris for the girl and dating the girl and another guy at the same time… I honestly cashed in. I cashed in on probably the best thing in my life.

We sat down and he started “George of the Jungle” and started working on my shoulders and back… then he pulled my backwards, between his legs so that my back rested on his chest. And after a few moments, simply kissed my temple. I turned to face him, eyes wide, and we kissed. Simple as that.

I would tell you the million things that crossed my mind, but goddamn you all would not get a damn bit of it. Because a few days later, when I asked him what I was, and he asked if I wanted to be his girlfriend, I had to make a choice. To be with this suddenly amazing guy, or to continue a life with Carrie.

I broke her heart. I shattered it. She confessed later she tried to hang herself, but couldn’t when she thought of leaving her little brother alone.

A few weeks after I made my choice, he left for AT which is military speak for “No contact, 2 weeks, suck it up”

I recieved this message the day he left:

“As I sit here and wait for my buddy to arrive, I can’t help but to think about our time that we”ve been able to share. Even though it hasn’t been much for most, but for me it was plenty, plenty enough to get you stuck in my head. Now I find myself in a half trance, eyes on my buddy’s uniform as he appears around the corner, mind in a third zone. Somehow, even though I know the law would have it for the time, no force could really stop me from wanting to spend that one more minute or the many to follow it. Finally we drive away and the good was again short, but needless to say, I enjoyed it all the same. –Love you and I’ll be thinking of you and I’ll be missing you in the same. Love, Matthew Jay Scott aka Sir Smiles-a-lot!”

So I embraced the stuffed kitten he bought me (as he still calls me “pretty kitty choir girl’) and beared through three weeks only to have him do the unthinkable.

See, I gave Chris my virginity as a token that I was promised to him forever. Virginity holds a big pull on me. Its your choice. And once I gave that to him, he didn’t treat it as sacred. He took it as owning rights.

Matt felt the same way. He wanted to wait for his wife. That was never a lie to him. He wanted to wait for the one person who would complete him. And I guess that person was me.

It hits me now, as I type this, and have been typing for about an hour that all along he has been showing me that i am that person. I feel so wasted because I already gave that part of me to Chris. There was nothing for me to give Matt. I guess thats why I try to hard to show him every damn day how much I love him and care. I couldn’t show him by being his true wife. And I have been begging him, and begging him to show me that I am his intended and I so easily forget that.

Shortly after, I had the last dinner with my family. I call it the last dinner because it was my birthday, and after that day my world collapsed. My grandmother fell, and broke her hip. Her mother died the same way when she couldn’t makle it through surgery. My grandmother took the surgery but shortly after all of her levels went out of whack and she started going in to comas and seizures. I have lost the plump Grandma I loved, and gained someone who barely knows who I am, and sees things that don’t exist.

As if that wasn’t enough, my father went into the hospital for pain and they found a tumor in his colon. It was 14 cm and certified cancer. After further studies, they found it had spread to his liver. My own father got so bad, on night he called me a worthless bitch. I couldn’t talk to him or look at him for 3 months. I ignored all of his calls, and lived with Matt.

And while all this was going on, I forced my grades to go up to all A’s and kept my life in impeccable order… Somehow hoping if I kept everything perfect, things would go back to the way they were.

Now going through another AT, this time for 3 weeks, and facing a possible deployment…. I feel the most selfish I have ever been in my life.

I don’t want Matt to be deployed.I want to be his wife.
I wish I was pregnant.
I wish my dad didn’t have cancer.
Hell I wish my dad made jokes.
I miss my fiesty, stubborn grandmother.
I miss seeing my grandfather smile.

And you know the saddest part?

Tonight I remember the look in Grandpa’s eyes when he said goodbye to his wife.

If there is a God, I want to know why he hurts people. I want to know why he has made this strong exterior, only to have me break down like this in the middle of the night, with no one around. What am I supposed to learn?

I don’t even know… No one does. Guess its a “God has a plan” thing.



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