Well I've been afraid of changing 'cause I've built my life around you.

Only four more days until school starts. There's a few things that have consistently weighed on my mind for months upon months now, and I've long given up hope for a reprieve.

I think I have a problem, in fact I know I have a problem, but can I really be left to blame when people insist upon using the same password for everything? If ever before I have wondered about my space reserved in hell, I no longer do as I sit and read and silently mock your newfound faith. You claim to have asked for my forgiveness, well let it be known that I won't begrudgingly accept your apologies until you let yourself slip again, because then I'll know that I was always right. And that, ultimately, is what it all comes down to. In all my resentment and ill wishes, I'm still better than you, and bullet point by bullet point, I can prove it to you.

Faith may be important in life, but it can't be your only crutch, and when it comes down to it, you're a pretty worthless person even when the facade of newly acquired morality is taken into consideration.

I am a loathsome person.

And now, rather late per usual, 2008 in a nutshell as it seems to be the thing to do (speaking of, walnuts are fucking grody and should not infiltrate my chocolate covered chex mix ever again, gag):

January:
Not much to remember on this front, more than likely because it was excellent in comparison to the correlating month the year prior, and therefore warrants no particular space in my memory lest I not have anything to complain about.

February:
If I recall correctly, this is the month that Thomas finally moved out of his parents' house and into the one in Toledo, which he shares with Sam. I remember arriving and unpacking only to lie down upon a blank mattress in the corner of an empty room, crowded by the overwhelming loneliness of life.

March:
Found myself Spring Break Broke at the doctor's office, rather hastily labeled with OCD, Depression and Anxiety. The remedy was not exactly welcomed, as apathy crept in and no one really recognized me. A delightful ultimatum.

April:
Dumped on the eve of our two year anniversary, I was propelled into a state I had not reached in years. Despite the ever warming weather, I found comfort in long sleeved shirts. I was taken back for the beginning of the end. I don't think I have felt much more used than when he yelled at me to leave, and then took me to his room.

May:
The end of the school year was embraced with open arms. A brief trip to Pennsylvania marked the only freedom I would have, as I prepared for my inevitable return to plastic paradise at the factory. The monotony of assembling truck grilles was broken, however, by the unexpected reassignment to an internship in the front office.

June:
The Dream is Over.

Thus begins my spiral into anorexia and obsessive exercising, and I find myself in therapy for a multitude of reasons. The only bright spot? An entirely unexpected note and an assortment of classy chocolates left on my desk during lunch break marking the last day of the most hellacious month of the year, along with a few visits with a friend that punctuated days spent in my cubicle, hoping no one would notice my hour long trips to the restroom.

July:
Sparked by my therapy sessions, a bit of a rebellious streak set in and I found myself stepping in the direction of someone completely new, attempting to bypass the whole 'healing' phase and continue to believe that I was coming out on top.

August:
At the end of my internship and therapy sessions, I found myself a winner at something I had never been able to accomplish before: running, dating someone completely new, offered a job had I not been returning to school, and weighing a whopping 114 pounds at 5'8" and wearing a size two. This would be the first time I'd ever arrived at school without you, and the promise of a life outside my dorm room was somewhat exhilarating.

September:
I looked you in the eyes as I sat across from you and told you 'no' for the first time ever, looked past the tears in your eyes and knew that you did not really want me, you simply wanted what you knew you could no longer have. I threw my training bra on stage and secretly celebrated the fact that I had gained enough weight back that I no longer fit into bras that small, and made it to 21 without being medicated yet still self-medicating with a box full of sharp objects.

October:
My 21st birthday party resulted in the unleashing of over a years worth of repressed thoughts and feelings. A trip to the Sunshine State lacked the ability to shine any light into the return to Indiana, and the ever looming onslaught of mental fluctuation.

November:
Remarkably unremarkable. Perhaps allowing myself to slip into banality and embrace a slightly varied version of what I once had is the key putting restlessness to bed.

December:
Yet another quick foray into anorexia followed by a period of recuperation, well-received news regarding grades and of course, the best holiday of them all. In order to ready myself for the new year, I bagged and boxed up a carload of things to give away, and looked forward to not looking back.


Cheers.