Aishiteru

The last few months have been hell. I didn’t even realise how much I relied on my ex-boyfriend until we broke up. Now it’s all over, I feel…lifeless. Empty. Dead. But the days go by and I manage. It’s still a struggle though, to keep my head above the water, to keep going, to keep fighting against…well yes, against what exactly? The dreams, the memories, the constant feeling that something is missing, that something is gone? Fighting against the depression, the urge to give up, to let it all go, to drift into that familiar state where I don’t have to care about anything or anyone – not even myself. It’s easier to stop fighting and to just give in, but I can’t, I won’t. It’s just that well…I feel lost. So utterly and completely lost that I don’t know where to go but every road looks the same, dull and boring, and nothing is even remotely interesting. I’ve been through just about every post-break-up phase possibly, ranging from hysteria and cry-fests to not-caring, hatred and anger and every fucking thing in between.

I’ve hid myself in my room and stared at our picture for hours; I’ve gone out all night, gotten drunk and did all that stuff drunk people do; I’ve studied nights in a row because I couldn’t sleep at all. I remember packing my bags and planning to leave, actuallly leaving but then eventually returning; I’m nineteen: running isn’t an option anymore. I’ve done every possible thing I could think off to get over my ex-boyfriend, but I can’t. I can’t let it go. My mind is working against me. Every night, I keep running down the options: why did he do the things he did, why did I do the things I did, what the fuck happened to us? I mean: I remember us being happy, hell, I remember me being happier than I’ve been in years! The worst part is that I don’t know how to be happy again. There are shadows where there used to be only light. I’ve been whining about this to my friends for so long that I think I’m starting to annoy them. But I know why I can’t let go. Why I can’t just move on.

I don’t care anymore whatever it meant to him. To me, it was real, the real thing, real love, the sort of love you find once in a lifetime. The connection between souls where you feel what your partner feels before he even has to tell you. I’m not going to find that again and I don’t want to find it either. Because you know what it means when I let it go, when I give up and move on, when I stop missing him? It means it wasn’t real. It will completely ruin the fairytale-image I have of it. It will mean that it’s just another “simple” relationship, nothing special, nothing at all what I made from it. I’m an idiot for thinking like that, but it’s exactly how my brain works. If I get over it, if I let it go, then it wasn’t the real thing. And for some reason, I want it to have been real. I want all that pain and confusion to have had a purpose.

So, I went through finals. Failed a couple, had to do them again during summer. They won’t be good. I hardly care. University used to be everything to me. It used to mean the world. It was my goal, go to law school, become a lawyer. Fulfill your dream. It’s not my dream anymore. Or maybe it is, but I’m too busy trying to escape my pain to actually see it. It’s like I’ve put my life on hold until the pain is over. And I’m filling up the holes in my heart with new activities, with new hobbies, but I don’t have any room left for love. I don’t want to love anyone right now. I just want to keep busy until it’s all over, the pain, the hurt, the feeling of being betrayed. So next year, school-wise, I don’t know what I’m going to do. I’ll try to study more, I’ll try to make it my dream again, but I don’t know if I can. I’ll try to learn from this experience and become a stonger person, but I’m afraid all it’s making me do, is caring less and less about people in general.

For those of you who are wondering, I haven’t heard from my ex-boyfriend in two, nearly three months. It’s been more than six months since we broke up. I should have been over him by now, but I’m not. Every bloody thing reminds me of him. I miss him and hell, I still love him. One day, all of that will dissapear. But that day is not today. Today I’m hurting my best friend because I cannot love anyone that special way anymore. Today I’m breaking someone else’s heart because mine is broken too. It sucks and I don’t want to do it, but I can’t love anyone (as in boyfriend-girlfriend love) until my heart is healed. It’s healing, I know, slowly, but I’ll get there. This time, I won’t run anyway. I’ll face my demon.

Actually, breaks-ups suck for a lot of reasons. It breaks your heart, it makes you feel like a nobody, it messes up your other social relationships since you’re actually a wreck, etc. But the most annoying thing of it all is that break-ups result in drama-episodes, in which you cry, cry and cry even more and then go on to write the most stupid, over-dramatic, sucky, horrible prose or poetry you have ever written in your entire life. Sure it comes straight from your heart and is a reflection of your pain, but that doesn’t take away the fact it’s horribly written and gives you an even worse feeling about yourself. Oh well, for your enjoyment and my despair:

Who are we now
I wonder
Used to think you were perfect
for me, at least
All ever desired
by a heart that was messed up
from the very start
But you knew
Told you so, been honest
As I recall
Broken yet you healed
with more care than first expected
a smile never to forget
an angel, descended from the heavens
now cold, dark, alone
shadowy figure in crowded streets
no one looking back to see
pure agony
torment
hell has come upon us
I know you feel it too
Apocalyptic evil
Conceited in a heart once loving
loving you
never anyone else, never used to
always fear
you cast away the demons
then you became them
who are we now,
I wonder.

^^Can you believe that’s like the least terrible one? I so need therapy now.

The boyfriend and I broke up. Been a couple of months. Couldn’t get myself to go on the blog anymore.

Aishiteru means “I love you” in Chinese or Japanse, I can’t bother to look it up right now. It was the first way he told me he loved me. I named the blog like that to honour him and our relationship. Guess that doesn’t work anymore.

I’ll figure out some thing and come back, new name, new layout, same url. I’m heart-broken and not in the mood to write blogs, if you get my drift. At least not on this subject, so I’ll not get into it any closer. Sorry guys.

See ya soon.

This post is directed towards the ex-girlfriend of one of my closest friends. She is not only one of the most annoying bitches I know, stalking my friend to the point she even sends him about 30 text messages a day although he ended their relationship approximately seven months ago, she can’t stand it when he talks to other people or even thinks about dating other girls.

In short, I think she’s a psycho bitch. I mean: I’ve read the text messages, I’ve read the mails, I’ve heard her on the telephone, my mate has called me when she suddenly arrived on his doorstep at 8 in the morning, without ever telling him she would show up. How the hell can you still classify any of those things as stuff a normal, sane person would do? Especially if it’s been seven bloody months!

Now, if he just broke up with you and you act a little freakish, then I’d get it. I mean, broken hearts do hurt. But honestly, can’t you just grow a little self-esteem, get a life and move on within the spawn of seven months? I don’t care that you still walk around with the teddybear he gave you, I don’t give a fuck if you still believe he is the love of your life and I couldn’t care less if it still makes you cry when he says you should leave him the fuck alone.

You want to know why I don’t care?

Because I think you’re freaking insane to spend this long obsessing over some dude who doesn’t want you anymore! Get over it already! He can’t be as perfect as you think he is, because he threats you like shit and doesn’t give a fuck about you. You are obsessing over the image you have in your mind, but that image is not real. The guy is ordinary, random, nothing to get so fucked up about. It makes me wonder if you really have no self-esteem what so ever, if you are so messed up and so weak that you want to lower yourself to the level of begging for him to take you back? He didn’t want you to begin with, but he sure as hell isn’t going to want you when you keep on begging and whining.

And then, on the mere occassions he does try to be friendly to you, you start getting pissed at him. Because he talks to his friends, because we sometimes laugh at you (hell, who wouldn’t?), because we’re cool and you’re not, because he likes going out and getting drunk and because he doesn’t want to come see you at the weekends. Of course the boy won’t do that! You scared him that much that he’s determined to stay as far away from you as possible. Oh, and all the text messages you sent involving so-called male friends who like you and give you presents or mysteriously kill themselves whenever it is convenient to you? Quit the crap. Even an idiot know you are simply playing the ho because you want your ex-boyfriend to get jealous; but your efforts simply make him think you’re pathetic.

But when he tells you to leave him alone because he’s at a restaurant having lunch with one of his closest friends, you still freak out, call about thirty times and sent approximately 50 text messages. I cannot help but wonder why. Do you really want to sound that pathetic, that needy and greedy, do you really think so low of yourself? It was because I felt sorry for you that I sent you that text message. Because I wanted you to grasp the fact that sometimes you have to let go, or you’ll destroy yourself. But I guess it was too late already.

All the thanks I got from my for my little word of advice, was a txt stating I am a bitch, should leave your boyfriend (wtf? dillusional!) alone, get out of his life, etc. Boy, did I want to give up on you right then. But I did this for the pride of the female race, because I don’t want us to look brainless and pathetic. So I told you to at least stop cutting yourself, go out with your friends and try to forget all about your ex-boyfriend because he’s not interested anyway. I tried to explain to you that there is more in life than a love lost.

Then I got accused of so many things that I am not even going to name them here. But one thing did struck me: you have had all those problems so you have the right to obsess over some kiddo who isn’t even worth obsessing about and you are so messed up inside all because of him? And I don’t know what it’s like to have issues because I have the perfect life? You, moron, don’t know a fuck about me. I know a hell of a lot more about you, because I’ve read it all. I’ve seen you develop from a jealous fucktard girlfriend (who he cheated on btw, yeh, grasp that, eh?) to a jealous fucktard non-girlfriend but obsessive stalker. I’ve seen you grow worse and worse over the months to the point you are now ready to enter an asylum, for all I care. But are you going to blame your downfall on the guy who wanted to let you of you before it was too late? Are you going to blame him for the fact you are a disgrace to the human race? Too weak to even take care of yourself? Too weak to even move on?

I don’t have a perfect life. Far from it. I have my own issues and troubles, but I’m never, never going to lower myself to your level and blame all of these issues on a guy. I’m never going to beg for love, because I already know that trick just doesn’t work. I find you pathetic and you have no one to blame for that but yourself. I’ve seen your picture and you’re not ugly, you can find yourself another guy who will give you the love and devotion you deserve, we all deserve. Then why do you want to hold on to something you can never get back? Why keep telling lies about how your friend kills himself, your other mate walked under a bus, your best friend got raped, etc. The pain you are feeling is no longer caused by this boy you obsess about, but by yourself. Even if he’d ever (he won’t though) take you back out of compassion or something, he will never love you and it won’t heal your pain. You have to do that on your own. But I fear for you, it’s already too late.

So yes, you can call me whatever you want, a whore, a slut, a bitch, and see if I care. I know you’re pathetic and I don’t even need to tell you.

Some stuff (no details) got me thinking today. To be honest, I feel sorry for my boyfriend. I come with an absolute fuckload of emotional garbage. I have been through so many phases in my life that it’s hard to keep track of it, even for me. I’ve been beaten down, got back up, screwed up myself, let go of nearly all my principles, crawled my way back up into life, etc. I have so many fears when it comes to love and devotion that it messes me up completely. I’m sorry, but if you choose to love me, you do not have an easy path ahead.

Emotionally, I’m a nutcase. I go from happy to sad in a second, from normal to vicious in a millisecond and from angry to freaked out in the blink of an eye. Sometimes I don’t even have a real reason for my mood swings, at least not any that sounds reasonable and normal. I have issues devoting myself to someone, trusting someone enough to give them my heart, and even when I do so, I am very likely to cheat on them whenever something goes wrong.

I do not believe one can love more than one person at once, yet I’ve had this nasty habit of having several boyfriends at a time. I went through times when I had no respect at all, not for anyone else, nor for myself or my body. I date boys, tell them I care, then go and ignore their phone calls for weeks until they finally give up or I decide to ‘officially’ dump them, just to get rid of them. I have so many issues being emotionally attached to anything, ranging from a pet to another human being, that I’ve tried to give it up all together for many times.

I learnt how to hide my feelings, how to hide my pain, my anger, until the point that it boils up deep inside to eventually burst out in an explosion of rage. I hit the mirror until it broke, because I could not stand looking at myself and the monster I had become. Grotesque, emotionless, weak, empty. Then I learnt to punch the wall rather than cut myself, decided suicide is never a solution, not even when your mind plays the craziest and most horrid games with you. I learnt how to put all of them things aside and focus on more urgent, important matters, such as studying and becoming something in life.

But hardly anyone knows what I really, really want to do.

I want to run. I want to run until I reach the horizon, and even then keep on running, until the sweat drops down my body and I am too exhausted to even move. I want to run to Paris, to Rome, to London, swim across the ocean if I have to. I want to see the world, because I cannot stand seeing this goddamned forsaken place anymore, all them familiar faces of people I once knew but never really wanted to know, all them painful mermories burried in a hole of six foot deep, all the failures and mistakes I made. I want to run away. Unfortunately there is no place where pain cannot catch up with you. It always catches up, in the long run.

You see, lots of emotional garbage. You don’t want to love. Hell, you don’t even want to befriend me. The only reasons I have friends is because they don’t know who I am, who I really am. Sure I can put up my mask for a while, but that doesn’t change who I am underneat. Sure you can like me because I am cheery and enthusiastic, as long as you ignore the bored look in my eyes and the irriation in my voice. Sure if you barely met me, you can’t know. You can’t possibly know about the insomnia, about the buckload of guilt, about the sorrows and the razor-sharp pain, about the lies and the anger. The anger might be the strongest and the worst. Its inevitable. It’s about to break loose. It always is.

To make a long story short; my dearest boyfriend, I don’t know why you want to be with me. Why you want to get to know me, why you want to open that closet of deeply hidden secrets, why you want to dig up corpses on the cemetery that is my soul? Sometimes I think that is the only reason why you are doing it; because you are drawn to my pain, to my screwed up mind. That would end as soon as you dive into it, trust me. My mind is too wicked, even for you.

It keeps me puzzled though. It amazes me, why you would even try. But I never lied to you, so I suspect you are sort of up for the task, although you can’t really know what that means. You know you’re in for one hell of a ride, but still you hold on and claim you’ll be able to do it.

You surprise me every day.

No, I mean, I really wonder. Why has this pain not yet faded away, although I have tried everything within my power to withstand it. I have pulled away from you, and I came back. I ignored you for weeks, but part of me knew you were still there. Now you’re not anymore and I can’t help but think you forgot all about me. About who we were, about what we were like, about the future we had in mind for us. A future that is now gone; ripped to shreds, teared into a million small pieces.
Those words you told me, were they honestly that hollow and empty? When you said you wanted no girl but one like me, was that a joke? Because I sure didn’t take it as one. Alright, so maybe I am cold. Maybe I’m the one who said goodbye. But not really. You know who I am, who I was?

I was the girl who would travel to the other end of the world for you. I was the girl who felt your moodswings from miles away, who thought about you for nearly every second of the day. I wanted to take you to Paris and show you the Eiffeltower, I wanted to bring you to Vienna and show you the beauty of the city of rivers. I wanted to travel to Egypt with you and discover the pyramids, memories of an ancient world. I wanted to unreveal the secrets of life and death itself, with you by my side. I wanted to show you what true love meant, what it means like to be alive, what it actually means to live and breathe.

I would have died for you.

If we could start all over again, erase our mistakes and our wrong-doings, find a way to be together beyond our differences; I would gladly accept that opportunity. Your image haunts me, the wrongs I did to you are part of my worst nightmares. I know you would have wanted that too. I know for a fact that you love me. I am even willing to bet that you still do. You may have found a new girlfriend and I may have the best boyfriend I could’ve wished for, it’s still there. I’m not sure it’ll ever go away. It’s so deep and so strong that it’s part of me…

Perhaps I am judging you too harshly when I blame you for getting a new girlfriend so soon. I was the one who broke your heart after all, used you and then threw it away. That it was merely revenge, does not take my guilt away. I hurt you. But you’re the one thing that still matters, the first thing I think about it the morning. When I sleep at night, I still feel your strong arms around me, protecting me and holding me close. If you even begun to understand the meaning and potential of my love, you would not have turned on me that soon.

I know I hardly talk about it. I know my new msn nickname probably hurts your feelings. I know I can overreact and blame you for everything. But if we talk on the phone, can you honestly say you will ever trully love her the way you loved me? That she will ever mean the same? You were my first love, the boy I gave my virginity to, the boy I spent two and a half years of my love with and you throw all of that – all of the happiness, love, dreams, hopes – away for what?

You told me two weeks ago: “If I get a new, she’ll have to be smart. And at least half as pretty as you. She would have to be clever, witty and all of that”. If that’s what you find in your new girl, then I’m insulted. Not only my intelligence, but also my humour and appearance are insulted. Sure, she may fit better with you, but she fits none of them criteria.

You talk to me on the phone and call me ‘love’. You say you do not wish to hurt you. Neither do I, but I had to make a choice, a choice which I will never regret. It just…hurts. Don’t ask me why, don’t ask me how, I can’t even begin to explain. You were my world, and now you’re gone I’ll havr to reinvent my world all over again. That sucks, you know.

I’m a big sucker for Harry Potter Fanfiction; I love writing fanfics, but I also love reading them. The only problem is that, in order to find a breath-taking, nail-biting fanfic that makes you sit on the edge of your seat and makes you fall on your knees begging the author to write more; you first have to find your way through an enormous pile of crap. Yes, crap, because of all the stuff that gets posted under the “Recently Updated” section of harrypotterfanfiction.com; at least nine out of ten stories are crap.

They lack catching oneliners that draw you to reading the story, the banners they use suck (which makes the story at least ten times less appealing to me), the characters are getting old (please one more Hermione/Draco badly done and I’m going to puke) or they simply ignore any of the characteristics already mentioned in the original Rowling’s books. If you want to change Ron into a heroic warrior, you will have to pull a LOT of strings to make that one believable to me. You want to pair up Harry and Hermione? Turn the world upside down. Most authors don’t realise that what works in their fluffy little fantasy world, doesn’t work in real life. Readers aren’t interested in the offsprings of your sick mind, unless you manage to pull it off in a believable and interesting matter. But please keep away from sucky ideas such as: making Harry Potter a vampire, developing theories about a family connection between Harry and Voldemort and quit the magical “Sirius returns from Zombie world” madness.

Too often I browse through the recent list on harrypotterfanfiction.com and come across such idiocies. The problem with the entire browsing system there, is that although one can browse the story archive by a hell of a lot of preferences, ranging from era to pairing, there is no “best of” or “most reviewed”, etc. There is, on the Best of HPFF page, but the number is limited to ten. I don’t know about you, but I get through ten stories rather quickly. I would prefer a monthly “Best Of”, or even a weekly. It would sure give me a lot more reading options. Sure HPFF also features some Author and Story recommendations, but the last date from December 11th and the ones before that dated from July 2008…You can probably see where I’m coming from. They throw the good and bad stuff together and mix it in a blending pot. Eventually the ‘best’ stuff (most reviewed ever, most updated ever) comes out, but the ‘good’ stuff stays hidden. My mission is to find this good stuff and present it to you.

Now, before you start looking forward to my monthly (I think weekly would be too much hassle for me) recommendations of HP stories, keep a few things in mind: I hate fluff, I’m not fond of Harry/Hermione nor Hermione/Draco, if you bring up a title anywhere near ‘Harry Potter and the Attack of the Werewolves’ I might not even bother reading, if you make Draco soft and weak I will probably despise your story and I absolutely ABSOLUTELY will NOT read a novel length story in which the main character falls in love with an OC character anywhere in the first five chapters. On the other hand; if you serve me sexy bad guys, mixed with a delicious amount of wicked plans to control the universe, the necessary drama, blood and madness, I might adore you till the end of time. Well, now you guys know a few of my preferences, you will probably have a better clue of whether or not my story recommendations will be somewhat in line with the type of HP fanfics you prefer.

The way I think about it now, my recommended fanfics will be posted once a month in a seperate category which will (no kidding…) be called: “Recommended HP Fanfics”, with my short opinion and of course a link to the fanfic itself. Length of the fic will be mentioned, but to me it doesn’t really matter. I enjoy reading one-shots just as much as I enjoy reading novel-length pieces. And as a short message to HP fanfic authors, you may always comment here, leaving a link to your HP Fanfic so I can read it and possible even add it to my recommended list.

So, let me know what you guys think about this little idea of mine and I will get back to you asap with a list of my Recommended HP Fanfics for the month February

I have examinations. They are bloody difficult. I’m half-way, but it sucks, I hate it, there is no God.

So, there’s your explenation for why I’m not posting.

Updates when examinations are over.

I figure that now is the time to turn around my life, to become the person I always wanted to be, to make the best out of my day, to live fully and completely by the statement of ‘Carpe Diem’…But who am I kidding? I never stick to New Year’s Resolutions. Never.
It’s not that I don’t want to. It’s mostly that I forget about them, usually on January the 2nd and in rare cases even on January the first. Then, for some reason unknown to mankind, I seem to remember about them right at the beginning of March. It’s unfair, I tell ya. My mind plays tricks with me all the time. Stupid malin génie (and thanks to Descartes for this wonderful definition).
So, this year I decided to make New Year’s Resolutions again, just for the heck of it. If I don’t stick to them, well nothing’s lost really. If I do stick to them, ah well. You know, no stress. Chill. Relax. You’re only about to die in a week or three (due to examinations). So what do you really care about them resolutions?

1.  Make a week-to-week schedule and actually stick to it.
   You have no idea how hard this is for me. I’m not a person who works well on schedules: I either tend to be late, or stall enough to be late. When I have planned an hour of studying around two o’clock you can damn sure bet on it that I’ll still be on my computer then or chatting with friends or doing whatever possible NOT to have to study. This often leads to me, in hour to get my 8 hours of studying/classes a day, studying until late at night because I stall during day time. Next semester, I bet you this won’t happen again (as much). I’m sick and tired of having to study while others are watching movies or going out, simply because I stall and am lazy. (Besides, this usually ends up in me still doing those activities anyway, hence not studying enough and not reaching the required 8 hours/day).
2. Prepare classes and rehersethe material we’ve seen after classes. Also prepare for the group assignments.
   You may have figured out by now that I am lazy. I like to do everything just five minutes before it’s due, which usually leads to me getting into trouble or falling behind on schedule. Well, not anymore in 2009, folks! I’m going to prepare classes, reherse everything we’ve seen right after classes, write summaries and study them. I want to know at least half of what I need to know, before the actual studying period starts. You may wonder why. In all honesty I have realised that, when I stall or do other things when I should be studying, this doesn’t really turn out in my advantage. It seems like a long, long time ago since I actually had the time to relax without having to think about the fact I am wasting precious time I could use studying. I want to be able to relax completely, without having to worry about said matters. I believe this will be far more easier for me to accomplish when I actually do the stuff I am supposed to do.
3. Exercise at least an hour a day + go jogging with my mates once a week. No excuses.
   I’m not exactly the most athletic person and I don’t really like sports, apart from swimming. But I do know that “a healthy mind resorts in a healthy body”. Don’t be mistakes though, talking a walk or doing some yoga or dancing in the kitchen counts under my “exercise an hour a day” – resolutions too.
4. Post on this website at least once every two days (and if I am without inspiration, then do something on my to-do list).
   I think this kind of speaks for itself. The thing on the to-do list may have to do with other websites then this one, though.
5. Read a book every two/three weeks.
   This depends on how busy I am and how much coursework I have, but I will try to read (and review!) a book every two or three weeks. Except during examination period in June.
6. Write a minimum of one tutorial or website review a month.
   Speaks for itself, but is damn difficult for me!
7. Try to be less aggrivated and do not bash my Mom so much.
   My Mom is the nicest person on this planet. She doesn’t deserve me treating her badly at times. I should be nicer to her and I will honestly try. I will also try to help her out more, be more understanding and generally more loving.
8. Sell some of my old stuff and earn tons of money!
   Well, maybe not “tons”, but you get the idea. The entire house is cluttered by my old, useless belongings. Papers, junk, all will have to go! The money can go to new, shiny things.
9. Buy more original gifts for people.
   I’m not that good at buying people presents, but I will try to be more original this year. So flowers, you’re out!
10. Do something creative (drawing, painting, writing poetry, playing the clarinet) at least one hour a week.
    I don’t really know why, but this just seems like a good idea to me.
11. Work on my novel at least one hour a week and actually manage to finish it before December 31th, 2009.
    Hard since I actually have had no inspiration whatsoever in the past, lets say, six months, but oh well for the heck of it!
12. Redecorate my room at some point during the year. Possibly with money gained from selling old belongings.
    Vague, but definately a must-do since my room looks like…well, shit.
13. Try to eat a bit healthier.
    Ehm, never gonna work. Why do I even bother?
14. All in all: be a tad bit happier, a tad bit more relaxed, use my time to the fullest, enjoy every moment and make 2009 the best year ever.

I’m full of shit, am I not? I’m never going to stick to ANY of these resolutions, not even when Hell freezes over. Oh well.

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