You know what? I hope your happy.


I'm certainly not.

You asked me what was wrong. I told you time again, it was nothing. But you did not believe me. I said, "If there was something wrong, I'd hide it better."

I don't know if I really wanted to hide it. I read your blog. That niggling suspicion in the back of your mind. That little thought that comes through your mind, that one where you think, "What would happen if I just ended it all?" You've thought that. That thought never leaves. You try to kid yourself that it's not all that bad, that it's really quite alright, but once that thought enters your mind, that's it. There's not going back. That thought will never leave. It doesn't leave. It can't leave. And it eats away inside. As soon as that thought enters your mind, it's all over.

It's all over, isn't it?

I know what that thought does. I've had that thought. But if you have it now, then promise me that you wont drag it out.

Because that, I couldn't take...

"It is no accident that you are reading this. I am making black marks on white paper. These marks are my thoughts, and although I do not know who you are reading this now, in some way the lines of our lives have intersected... For the length of these few sentences, we meet here.

It is no accident that you are reading this. This moment has been waiting for you, I have been waiting for you. Remember me."

- Duane Michals

I've come to the realisation that... You're my everything. Pretty much. Even though I promised myself you wouldn't be.

You asked what I wanted? Well, I don't really know what I want, but I'll tell you what I need; I need you. I need you in my arms. I need you to hold my hand, to hold me close, to not let me go. I need your skin against mine. I need your voice whispering in my ear, telling me softly that you love me. I need to lie there in silence, our bodies touching but oh, so innocently. I need you. Every inch of you. Without worries, without interruptions, without anything to spoil the moment that should last forever. Just you. And me. Is that too much to ask for? I fear it is... I hope not. Because that's all I could ever want. Or need. I wonder is anyone will ever let me have it? Please? I just want you. That's all. No complications. Just you.

Just you xxxx

I don't know what's worse - the fact that you listen to Taylor Swift to "Calm yourself down" or the fact that you know what makes you feel better when shit like this happens..

I'll ride it out.

I'm not ok. I'm really not. No matter how hard I try to be, I know that I'm not. I can't do this any more, I just can't. I"m so goddamned fucking sick of all of this shit. I hate her. I hate this. I can't do this any more. I want to leave, I want to run as far a fucking way as I can, and I don't want to stop. I can't do this any more. I just can't.

It's like the shards of a mirror, all scattered around, glimmering and suggesting a life once had, small glances of images past. Like a puddle in the rain, rippling and distorting the image. I supposed, it's not rain any more. It's now the sludgy remains of liquefaction. The house is not safe. Neither am I. We no longer stands up, not by ourselves. There are some good days, and some bad. More bad than other, now. I just want to have piece, a few moments to get away from it all. But the more the moments, the harder it is to return to reality. I was fine, today. And then reality hit, with that phone call from mum. But I wasn't about to let it ruin anything xx

But reality has struck again. And I want out of it. I need out of it. But there's nothing that anything can do to fix it at the moment. I'll just have to ride it out, like a good girl :)

I will ride it out. I always do :) There's nothing else to do, now, but ride  it out.

Have you ever been in love? Horrible, isn't it? It makes you so vulnerable. It opens your chest and it opens up your heart and it means that someone can get inside you and mess you up. You build up all these defences, you build up this suit of armor, so that nothing can hurt you, then one stupid person, no different from any other stupid person, wanders into your stupid life... You give them a piece of you. They didn't ask for it. They did something dumb one day, like kiss you, or smile at you, and then your life isn't yours any more. Love takes hostages. It gets inside you. It eats your out, and leaves you crying in the darkness, so simple a phrase like 'maybe we should be just friends' turns into a glass splinter and working its way into your heart. It's hurts. Not just in the imagination. Not just in the mind. It's a soul-hurt, a real gets-inside-you-and-rips-your-heart pain. I hate love.

-- Neil Gaiman.

I love you...

Plain and simple xx

So much <3 x <3 x <3

You know what? I just don't think I can take this any more. I just can't be fucked. I'm sorry. I don't function like a normal human being. I just can't. Normal bores me. I tend to lash out. I say silly things. I'm sorry. But I just don't know. I wish I did.

I still don't understand why though. And don't give me all that crap.

I just want one really fucking big earthquake to come along.

I want to feel alive again. Please just remind me how.

I just need music. I need something to take my mind off everything. I just want to sink into the abyss of nothingness and come out the other end as something new. Something that I may actually like.

I'm sick of all this shit.

I need my music.

It was the scariest dream that I have ever had. It hurt. So much. And there is nothing that I could do about it.

I had to fill out this test type of thing - I can't remember what it was for. But there was supposed to be a whole group of us that were doing it. At Brodie's house. Only it wasn't really his house. Anyway, I was sick. Really sick. I couldn't go to his house to do the test with everyone else. And I hated it. I did the test, and decided, fuck it: I'm well enough. I'm going over.

So I did. And when I got there, he was shocked. He didn't expect me to come. I didn't expect to go either. But he was so happy to see me. And I to see him. And we hugged. For ages.

And then his mum came in. And she went wild. How dare I be anywhere near her son with my illness. I franticly pleaded that I was here for no harm, and I was just dropping off my test! She wasn't having a bar of it. She screeched and ordered me out of her house, and left Brodie's room.

We hugged. He didn't want to let me go. I didn't want to let go. And then we heard his mother coming back up the stairs. We both freaked out, and he hid me under his bed. His mother found me. She pulled me out from my hiding spot and dragged me down the stairs and outside. Brodie was protesting. He was shoved in the car, and I yelled I LOVE YOU. He went to say something, but I couldn't hear over the noise -

And then we were in this massive park. Like, a hiking place. Lots of hills and tracks built in. I don't know why I followed, but I did. And his mother kept on trying to take him away. He managed to grab my hand and we got away from his parents. And we sat there. And we hugged and talked and sat there and basked in each other's presents.

And he got taken away from me.

And he got placed back in the car.

And he went to say something, mouth it as he was being dragged off so that his mother wouldn't notice. I think he said I love you. And he went to say something else. But his mother appeared. And I woke up.

I freaking had to wake up.

Gargh. I hate dreams. They tell you everything that you don't want to know.

I'm sorry. I'm sorry that we're not all heartless cows like yourself.

Breathing.

could you come a little closer? slide that way you slide, so shy, wanting mouth open, try to suck in enough air to pacify the limits of lungs so useless in the dark mantle of these deeds, haunting your fingertips as they trace the contours of my lips, speaking too deaf silence closer my love, there will be no more breathing: quiet these vain protests echoing past the dying candle; nononononono, i don’t want this any more than you want the icy prongs of betrayal along the spine, harrowing soil to bear the fruit of your transgressions, elevated in your judas gaze; oh, darling, this heat is consuming the oxygen in the room of four, volatile hatred turned to lust; oh, woe are we caught in the movements that drag our tongues together, choking each other to the rhythm of two hearts bleeding into a single pool of glimmering vice.

- Fu-zu Jen, 7.13.99

OK, my dream last night was really

well, I would say weird. But it was so fantastic.

One of those ones where you really hate to get up.

I was part of this big competition. A food making one. We got given a list of ingredients once, had to remember them, and then make this dish, but we only got the title as to guess what it was. And I was running around like a mad thing trying to figure out what these ingredients were - we ended up with pickled onions, tortilla wraps, olives and something else... I think we were suppose to make a pie for some reason. I was all set to win this on, I was really confident. I saw cook, and went over to help her with her ingredients. She had flour because someone had told her that they were making a pastry. I looked around and saw that everyone had those ingredients, so I quickly followed suit, and scolded myself for not listening hard enough to the ingredients, although I had been SURE that there was only three or four ingredients read out. I thought, Tomorrow, I will pay more attention, I'll have a pen and pad, and I shall win this.
Got back to my station, and Liz and Anna were next to me.
"I thought that we were supposed to work by ourselves?"
"We are," Liz replied. "But I doubt that they'll come and check on us."
"Clever," I laughed.

And then I felt that all to familiar hand around my neck. I turned around thinking Brodie, but saw Edward. I would have thought that my heart would've sank, but it didn't. It leapt higher than it ever has before, and he pulled me into his arms and hugged me. Even though he'd just broken my heart so much, I was still so happy to see him. And we laughed, and rolled around on the floor kissing in this massive warehouse that we were in. I knew that Edward was Brodie. But the change of facial appearances made it all right. And we spent the next two hours like that, when I should have been cooking. I was just in his arms again, and it felt so right.

But, soon, I began to think, "What if people see us together like this? You left me. What are they all going to say?"
"Well, then, you say: 'He's come back! And I am taking him back!' That's what you say."
"But, what about my boyfriend?"
"Tell him he's dumped. You don't need him any more, you've got me." And he smiled that oh, so charming smile that he does. But my rational thought was coming back to me. "You said that the passion has all gone. Usually when somebody says that, it's completely and one hundred percent over." To which, the bastard replied as he put his hand on my neck once more, which melted all my worries, and made me stop worrying, "But, this is what you want now, isn't it? Everything that you once had back to the way it was, and in full glory?"

Bastard. I nodded in a very dazed fashion, just so glad to have his skin on mine again.

And he left. I had neglected my cooking, so I had a lot to catch up on. Apparently, it only took 25 minutes to make. Why we had two hours, I don't know. But it could have just felt like that. And once again, I was left with a decision. Who do I choose? After all the grief he's caused me, do I go back?

Of course, before I can get my answer, someone texts my phone (Which I am yet to find) and I snap out of it. Bastards.

But, still. I want to know... If he does come back, do I take him?

Please, please read this. Please.

I am so sorry. Please, just hear me out.

Please, please know that I still love you so freaking much, and I want more than anything for us to be once more.

And please believe me when I say that walking out of that room was the hardest thing that I have ever had to do in my entire life, and it took every single fibre of my being not to run back to you and hug you, and hold you, and tell you that it'd all be better - that it'd all be ok, and make the hurt vanish.

I probably shouldn't have sent you that text directly after I left saying that I love you, but you probably shouldn't have said, that I'm sorry that you'll miss me.

I still want to turn back time. I wish to God Almighty that I can turn back time and run into your arms and make it all better, and now, I can't get the image of you sitting on the floor - a broken man - out of my head, and it keeps on running through there at a million miles an hour and I want it to stop, oh, please Christ, make it stop!

And no matter how much I tell myself that I wont cry, I can't help but feel the tears flowing faster than I can stop them, thick and fast down my chin, and I want this all to stop, and I just want to talk to you one more time, and I want to make this whole shit all better -

But there's no point in me doing that. Because I've always told other people that it's not really as bad as it seems. That you could always have it worse. And that you do have your whole entire life ahead of you.
And, it's right. I could be a whole lot more fucked. It's not like this is my marriage dissolving in front of me, and I have kids to support. It's not as if I'll never love anyone again...

But right now it feels like I wont ever want anyone else again.

I've fucked up. Big time.

But, what do you expect me to do, how does one react when hours before a party, a phone call is had and the words spoken through the receiver are: "The passion has gone." And you expected me to stay at your party?

But, I am still so very, very, very, very, incredibly sorry. I didn't mean to ruin your night. I am so so sorry. And I really hope that your parents don't think badly of me now.

Brodie Richards, I love you. I love you still. And I really, really don't want this to end... But, I guess shit happens. I just want you to know that this shit's been great.




Fuck. And here I was questioning if I'd really leave New Zealand, or if I'd stay.

Type your name: Madeleine.

Type it with your elbow: m,adeleiner.

Type it with your noes: madeleinew.

Type it with your eyes closed: Madeleing. (why do I always do that?)

If you want me,
then I'm right where I was left.
But don't stop to smell the roses -
People have a habit of fidgeting,
And never stay situated for long.

This fucking sucks. So goddamned freaking much. And the worst part of this all, is that it's all around me, and no matter what I do, I can't seem to escape it...

Life's crap. Then you die.

Death of a person. Death of a relationship. Death of an opertunity. Death of yourself. It's all a fuckinground you.

And you know what? I'm done.

The tree of man was ever silent. Then, twas the Roman. Now, tis I.

I miss you. Miss you so freaking much. And you wanna know what makes this hurt the most? You're right here. You're right here, and you wont even talk to me.

I wonder, sometimes, if I really made the right decision? I could have stayed as I was. I could have stayed at Girls High. If I had, would this have happened? Or, if the situation was reversed... and instead of going to one party, I went to another... I want to know. I want to know if this is right, if this is real, if it'll stay, or go, and when it does, how long do I have? Months? Days? What are you thinking? I need to know what is on your mind. But how do you ask such a question? And, even if I did ask, would you even tell me?

Do I even know you?

My God... do I? I'm not too sure now... I'm starting to doubt everything that I know. Or, rather, have known. A while ago, I suggested that you didn't know me. But, my God, you know me inside and out.

I love you.

Fuck.

Why must I love you?

If you're not here, you dumbarse, how the hell am I supposed to pass this year??

Day Nine: Two smileys that describe me right now.

--......................--
D`x

Day Eight: Three turn ons.

One: A guy with strong arms.
Two: If you can make me laugh, then honey, I'm yours.
Three: Blowing on my neck :p goddamn it, Brodie Richards. I love you, you bastard <3

Okay, so - this is what my dream was last night.

For some reason Ella and I were flying to America with Elias, and we got on this big arse plane (I can't remember how we got on the plane, but I know that there was some sort of back story to that) and flew to Auckland, I think, although, it wasn't really Auckland, it was still her.
ANYWAY.
We were sitting on the plane for freaking hours, and it kept on getting delayed, and kept on getting delayed - Ella and I both had three seats to ourselves - so we were lounging about, playing cards. We decided that we'd get off the plane, and go get coffee, go for a wee bit of shopping, and then get back on and go. So, we got off. We headed into the strip, and went shopping. The road was still the same, but all the shops were different. Ella wanted coffee, there was a starbucks. We went in, I decided that I didn't want anything. Her and Elias went off, then I decided that I did want some. But not there were so many people in there. And the lady was chatting to them all, and she wasn't making my goddammed gande white chocolate mocca with two extra shots, and whipped cream. (I remember thinking that I would definitely be able to pay for it, because I was going to America, and I wouldn't need any bus money.)
I ended up yelling at the lady, and everyone else in the coffee shop to SHUT, THE FUCK UP! I HAVE TO GO CATCH A PLANE, AND I WANT MY GODDANED COFFEE, SO PLEASE WILL YOU ALL BE QUIET AND MAKE MY COFFEE. I am sorry for yelling, it is out of order, but I just want to get back into the plane. She made it. Very quietly. It was very awkward in that coffee shop.

Oh, I've just remembered - we were going to Jess's wedding... in Timaru.. But we were going to go to America... Wow, dreams are fucked up...

They had gone, dissipated. And some old lady was touching my cards! [I don't know why, but two backs of cards were laid out on three metal tables over by the tram tracks underneath that sculpture) and I had to get back to that freaking plane.

And all of a sudden, I wasn't me. I was a kid. And there were four others. And we had to fly back to the plane. When we jumped, we jumped so high, and we flue. But, not everyone could do it. The littlest couldn't. A wee blond boy. And my god, we were up high. We passed over this massive trampoline, and fields, and trees. And I was trying to carry some of the others when they couldn't fly. We were up so high, I kept on thinking that a drop would've killed us.

We made it back to the plane, and I was me again, and I had my coffee, and I had these fantastic shoes! Oh my god, they were brilliant! Red, with strap that went across the foot - so gorgeous. But, the plane wasn't a plane, it was a cat (and this fact was accepted) and the shoes morphed into a massive version, and went onto the cats feet [I remember thinking, the cat can't take off without wheels, how can it run in heels?) and promptly ran off, leaving me with a cold coffee, and not on the plane.


FML.

This past week has really made me question my life. My existance. And, to be honest, I am so very muchly over it. I am sick to death of the lies - the lies I tell my mother, the lies that others keep from me. I'm sick of the bitching. I'm sick of the failings. I'm just over everything.
I was talking to this guy called Aron from Norway [?] the other day. He's 22, and his girlfriend of 7 years just broke up with him. It was kinda depressing. But, I still gave advice, even though he's 5 years my senior, and I have no experience what so ever. It just made me think about everything in my life at the moment. And that made me think about what Fiona said...
I didn't mean to make it all about me, and I apologise if I have. I'm sorry.
And, thanks. Thanks for making me feel like crap. Good on you, Fiona. Really. Top knotch right there.

Day Seven: Four turn offs

One: Rudeness and arrogance.
Two: Not washing. For god's sake man, it's called SOAP!!
Three: if they say that they love me really quickly. It's kiiiiinda creepy.
Four: That creepy factor - you know the one that I'm talking about.

You're not mine. But, then again, I don't ever think that you were meant to be mine. I have my own. All you were was a fantastic fansy, that sat with me that day. You're hers. And I'm not surprised in the slightest. But, you have yours. And I have mine. I can't help, though, but be slightly sad. I've lost the race. I'm not used to loosing. But we're from two different scales. And you were never meant to be mine.