I like him but I think I’m going to do what I’ve been doing since that time last year. I’ve been bouncing back and forth, from guy to guy. I’m not hooking up with them, no I crush on someone but then I move on to a different guy. I don’t like dwelling anymore because that leads to feelings you think you and they have and it’s just so complicated. My friends try to order me what to do by saying this mainly, “Your not allowed to crush on anyone for 5 months.” or something like that. I love my friends and all but you can’t exactly tell someone what to feel and what not to feel. Im not a robot. Two of my guy friends I had crushes on for like a week each and then moved on. Call me a love hermit really.

Call me moody, call me crazy, call me anything really because sometimes I feel like if I don’t get out of my head soon, I will drive myself crazy eventually driving my friends insane. What my friends don’t know is that I still think about Carter sometimes, to make me feel something. I see his bright eyes and his amazing face and I care. Whenever I see him, my heart opens up a little more than it should and thats when I become vulnerable. Most of the time, I keep my heart shut and locked away in a vault while I live my slightly unimportant life. When I see Carter, my face relaxes. I don’t have to hold a front because he knows. He knows I liked him but what he doesn’t know is that I keep wishing he was mine. I keep wishing he cared. I know wishing wont do me much at this point but hope is the thing that keeps me happy at school. People say happiness is the key to life, but honestly I’m not happy without knowing he’s happy. Even though I never know when he’s happy because I know that just like me, he’s wearing a mask to protect himself too.

But now...now I know I hit him where it hurts. My friends and my parents say that revenge isn’t the answer and I full on agree but in this case it was necessary. I know words hurt even more than physical ...not abuse but verbal weapons just hurt more. So my other story, Maybe..., I sent to him, through our school emails. I know he read it because you can read it all over his face. I don’t want to hurt him but you know what? He knows that words hurt like a paper cut that won’t heal, he knows that I probably won’t be the same girl again, and yet he had the audacity, the guts to talk about me to my face. He planned it so it looked like he was talking to his friend, but I knew the deeper meaning. The message I got, I may be wrong but to me, he was telling me that I wasn’t cool enough for him to talk to me but he had to diss me and tell me I’m not worth affection. Of course he never said that but you know, I’m pretty smart and I catch on easily enough. I haven’t been the same since he said those things, I know I won’t. I’m more guarded, more scared of what will happen if I fall for a guy again. But I definitely know that he read my story, that he knows my pain. He knows that I smile less and I cry more. I hit his weakness point with that painful story. He thought he’d be able to forget about that memory and me. How wrong he is because I will never forget that and I will never let him forget about my pain or about me. I hurt him like he hurt me only less than he did. I will imprint myself in his mind like a starfish imprints itself on a rock.

Just a look on his face says it all. He’s guilty. Of what you may ask? Well I will tell you. Of hurting me beyond my limit, of crushing all my dreams of hope that he might at least think I’m pretty. He won’t even look me in the eyes anymore, we never really talked and he just looks like a ghost punched him in the gut. Well I say I don’t want to hurt him but in reality, it makes me feel good to know that he’s capable of feeling guilt. He probably will never be the same or maybe he will get back to him self in a week. If he never is the same again, then I say to him, “That makes two of us.” But I bet he will be himself again, and that is why I will sent him that story, the story of my pain and how I will never heal from those scars he left. How I will always leave him responsible for my insecurities and fear of love. How he’s well, partly responsible for my bad days which occur more than my good days. He will know that I have low self-esteem and insecurities and fear of love because of those few words he spoke. The actions he did to make me feel, ignored, insignificant and low, were deathblows to me. Of course I will care about him, but this is my last action to let him know what he did was unacceptable to me and I am going to move on in hopes to find someone who will make me feel adored, significant, and loved. There will be differences in me, I know. For one, I won’t trust as easily, or love as easily either. But there will be lifts. For someone that loves me because I’m me, they will know I will trust them when I fully open up to them, when I tell them secrets none of my friends will ever know. But that won’t be for a while, so for now I’m focusing on the main things that keep me happy and above sadness: soccer, writing, friends, and listening to music.