Unrestricted

It’s been a while since I’ve written a journal in school. That fact could partly be because I haven’t been in school for a while . . . but it’s mostly because I don’t really finish journals I start in school, I don’t really write a lot on paper compared to when I type, and finally, it just takes me longer to type it up, especially when I write in my alternative writing. And today I’m not doing that.

I’ll say right away that I hope this journal would go deeper emotionally than most of my others. Right now I kind of am confused with myself. Not that I’m normally sure of myself or anything. I said a long time ago that I’m going to be open on this journal, write as if I’m going to be the only one reading. To be honest, which is my lifelong vow, I don’t think I have really been doing that.

Damn this touchy subject, and I just don’t want to write it.

I want to point out while it is on top of my head that when I go back through my journals, I normally don’t know what it’s about by the title. No. Instead I kind of skim through the first paragraph. I had a point going with this, especially yesterday, but now I kind of forget it. Maybe today it was just to point out what I need to write—and that didn’t make any sense. Correction: it’s to avoid writing what must be written. There.

I guess I’ll get the easier stuff out of the way first. But I do want to say that this is me. This is who I am, what I think, what I do. If what I say is offensive, I’m sorry. I’m writing this for myself and am writing it almost like it’s my private diary. So today . . . I’ll write about the emotion behind the social and won’t hold back.

So done with semi-repetitiveness and one with the putting this off. I need to get double-y serious now. As if the journal wasn’t heavy enough already. Well, at least when I write it it feels that way. Compared to normally.

First of all, I guess I’m still “going out” with Friedman. Despite what most people think of me, I kind of am a social whimp. I have had it in my mind to break up with him for a while now, but I just don’t know how to say it. I didn’t do it yesterday, but next when I see him today, I must. What I’m doing now, mostly avoiding him, it’s more cruel than ending it. So I need to kick up the gut.

And I’ll put a little pause on this so that I can get to my next class, so my train of thought might not be consistent the next paragraph. Or something might get done.

*hangs head* I have until the end of pre-calc to figure out what to say. Because I will not exit the class as fast as possible to drop my backpack off at German. I have to end it. I halfway had a chance but I’m a whimp. I don’t know how to do it.

The lyrics to “Cruel to be Kind” come to mind. Well, the repetitive ones. I ain’t gonna explain my rationale, but I’ve been trying to figure out what it means for a while now. I think I might finally understand. Well, past the M/S relationship. Or maybe that’s all it means. Oh, I don’t know.

So the subject of Friedman is down, now it’s my bigger question. I went to Chemistry kind of nervous about it—I need to confide in someone, I think, but after leaving it, I felt a little better. This journal is my release right now. But I still don’t think I’ll be fine until I can find someone to talk to. I’m not as anxious anymore.

Under normal circumstances I would talk to Alyssa about this, but she doesn’t seem like the type of person to talk to. Even Kyra, my other close friend, doesn’t feel like to go-to person. She already is having “problems” with catching a boy already. I know exactly how she feels, because it’s like she has her Tyler, except she’s in Junior year, whereas I was in Freshman, and when she managed to wave to him, she said he nodded and said “hey.” Already she’s ahead. Happiness for her, and still much luck. So if my two closest friends are out, then why would I go to someone I don’t confide to as deeply? Another one of my choice go-to’s might be Paul. Problem with him is that he lives across the States and I’ve never actually met him in person. But that could be why I can talk to him. There’s a but. I just don’t know how to explain it. Oh, forget it.

I know Paul has read my journal a month ago, at least. If he still does, then he’ll learn about this vaguely talked about thus far piece of information, and whenever I have time we can chat on Gmail. I think that might be okay for me. For him, I’ll let him choose. He’s a cool guy, and he would understand, I’m quite sure.

So what is this? I’m almost embarrassed right now to say it, because I’ve made way too much of a deal of it now. As I keep writing, I feel like I don’t have to anymore, but that could just be because I’m not thinking about it head-on. This has been eating me since my last journal.

Quiz now, so I’ll write what needs to be done afterward. The only reason I’ve been able to write so much is because of a first responders, and Mr. Scott is one of those types of people—who have to respond.

I just came from lunch now. Besides that split-second encounter before Calc, I haven’t seen Friedman. I know what I’m going to say, at least.

Lunch was like eighth grade today. Henry and I had the burps again, and even Alyssa agreed that it was like old times. Too bad it isn’t really eighth grade. That would just be plain awesome.

So where was I before the quiz? Too bad typing on the computer can’t portray the time in between some of these paragraphs, because with school I can’t write consecutively and writing that I have to go doesn’t mean too much to anyone reading it later—me included. But whatever I do it anyway and I’ll keep doing it.

Haha. I’m on my third page of orange writing now. Third hour of the day, too. So each piece of paper is out of a different binder.

You know how hard it is to write in English in German class? Especially when everyone is speaking in German.

What, now, is it that I’ve been putting off? I’ll need a little of an “introduction,” so to speak, first. Short paragraphs, non?

I’ve only had to boyfriends thus far, and nothing has really worked out too well. . . . And then there’s only been two people that I’ve really had a crush on. Well, that I’ve written about.

My point? Those three people have all be males. I was, no—I’ll stop right there. But now, those kind of types of . . . what should I call it? Feelings is kind of weird. Instinct just isn’t right. Ack—I’ll go with instinctual feelings. No. Oh, I’ll get to my point. But what I felt for Tyler at the beginning, at least—very beginning—I kind of in a slightly varied form, perhaps, I’m feeling for someone else now.

Maybe I should try explaining what I failed to name. Before Tyler became something of a forbidden, I had this kind of urge to be with him as in become friends. Not just friendly, but a closer friend like I am with Kyra. I really wanted to get to know him. So something like a best friend, but not really, and nothing sexually really came up in my head. I’m not really a sexual type of person. Well. Did I get my point down?

So these same types of urges have come up again. Except Tyler was just there . . . Sara I’m friendly with.

That’s who. Sara. Yes, goalie Sara on my field hockey team (I just realized—do I have a thing for goalies?). A she and not a he. Someone who has the kind of same basic personality of the types of people I like. Speaking of the type of people I like, normally they’re guys. Tyler, for example. So when I realized that my whatever is telling me to get close to Sara, I wondered. Could I be bi? It doesn’t really matter, but this is me. I’ve been trying to understand myself and how my more subliminal mind works. And the question of if I was bi, it just build on to each other. Could I go for a girl?

That’s what I’ve been building up to. Kind of sounds not so very important, but until I understand, I think I’ll be . . . weary. Tip-toe maybe. Oh, I dunno. But it’s still different.

Oh! Like, you know how something suddenly comes up, and no matter how petty it is, you totally question yourself because of it. It turns your world up-side-down.

Exploration? Or should I just leave this be? Kind of ignore it?

*sigh* Maybe instead of verbally asking someone, I’ll just hand them these many pages and give them those begging eyes. But this . . . is deeper than my norm. And I like the norm.

Anyway, I think I’m done with the more personal level right now. Unfortunately for any reader—haha—I still have things to write about.

I still haven’t found Friedman again, but while I’m going to Drawing and Painting I know I have seen him in the halls, so I have to slap my own face and get it done. I have to be strong and be like I am on the field—when I get on the field.

Which leads to the last important. Yesterday we had a game at Chelsea against the Whippets. It started out badly, mostly because the grass was so damn squishy. A sponge! Our sticks got stuck in the grass and the ball refused to move. It wasn’t until halfway through the first half that we got a goal. After a kajillion corners. And just before half time we got another. Eventually we did win—against a division three team.

I didn’t really get to play. Maybe five minutes. But yesterday that really didn’t matter. I would have been a weak link on the field. And coach would have been even madder at me. ‘Cause I didn’t go to the college game on Sunday.

After the game it was all happy, except Sara (surprise!) and blah blah. She didn’t really seem to have a ride, so I offered her one, but she already seemed fine (what?)—this time by her words.

So I guess that’s it, then. I’ll be thinking a lot now.

SONG OF THE DAY: Land of Confusion ~ Genesis