Monday, February 28, 2005
I've been thinking about getting one (or both) of my ears pierced. If I've got the guts for just one, it'll be my right. For obvious reasons. Then I might get an ear cuff simply to avoid additonal discomfort. I found a few ear cuffs on an online gay pride store. They have a single strand of colored crystal beads that make up a rainbow. And for the actual piercing... I might just have a regular stud. Either that, or a hoop with a teeny tiny upside-down triangle on it.
How, I'm just asking for someone to beat me up. But, anyone who knows me knows I fight back.
I remember the first time I tried getting pierced ears. I was really little, and my mom took me to a mall to have it done. Well.... all they did was stick me in a chair and shoved the needle of a needle gun through my ear. They just put a little dot of ink on there so they got it in the right place. God, lemme tell you, I thought that was painful. It stung and burned and was sore for several hours.
But now I want to try again. And wow, that happened.... over 10 years ago. 11 years... maybe even 12 years. Yeah, it was a while ago, was when me and the family were living in Fort Knox, Kentucky. I had a lot of fun, there. Hung out with the boys and everything, helped beat up some stupid kid who'd come up and bully kids smaller than us. So me and the guys I hung out with would run over to where ever he was and chase him off. The one time he didn't leave was the time he got the snot beaten out of him. He never came back after that. :P
Then... we moved to Louisville. (You pronounce it LOO-vul, not lewy-vill or lois-ville. People there would run you over with their car if they heard you say it wrong). I stayed there for about three years. My first "crush" on a guy there, too. But the rest were girls. It's really weird, he was the only guy I really had a crush on, but he was the girliest guy I have ever known. Very delicate, I took more hits than he ever did. I swear to God I could have broken him in half. I wouldn't be surprised if I went back, saw him, and learned he was gay. I really wouldn't be surprised.
Then we moved here. Been here for roughly 8 years. 8 years of hell, of loneliness, depression... I found out here that I was gay. First dated here, first kiss here... but Sidney's been nothing but hell. I have hardly anyone to support me, just my family and one good friend. I cry myself to sleep, I cry myself awake, I've fought here, nearly got shot here (I did that, actually... the pistol went off in my hand and nearly hit my foot. Haven't touched a real gun since then), I lost my closest friend here. Beau's been gone about a year, maybe a little more. But he was with me nearly my whole life. Every time I think about the way he looked when we had him put down makes me cry.... It was almost like a cross between relief and trust and love, and disappointment and pain and sadness. I miss him so much...
Depression, all these damn pills. I got Cyra in Scottsbluff, from the humane society. She was a gimp, but she looked like the loneliest dog I had ever seen, sitting there in that kennel. I sat down and scratched her on the neck through the chain-link, and then we let her out. She walked around on her own for a bit, then started following me around. We got her, and she was so leery about the car. I had to pick her up and stick her in there. Then.... we found out she got carsick. Me and mom and Becca and Mindy were going to get something to eat. Well, Cyra burped, sort of, and I took it as just a burp. Then Mindy started shreeking, saying "She's throwing up! She's throwing up!" It was just water, mostly. She looked so guilty afterwards, she tried to hide herself in my side. When mom and I sat on the lawn of the public library, Cyra and I played a bit, then I got up to go to the soda machine to get something to drink. When I came back, mom said Cyra practically cried the entire time I was gone. And when we drove home, Cyra fell asleep on my lap.
And then Amanda, and everything that went on between us. First an e-mail or two, then notes, then we started spending time together. Took her little brother to the Dalton Parade, sat and talked in the park, then the rape.... that's really the only way I can describe it. She wouldn't have cried or anything like that if it hadn't been, but everyone else says that it wasn't. I don't know anyone who could leave fist-sized bruises on someone they were supposed to be friends with. And then leave some sick poem in their locker afterwards. (To imagine these bruises, take the palm of your hand and try to make an outline of it on your stomach or arm or leg. Then watercolor it with blue, black, green, and purple. You'll get the general idea.) Then her mom sent her to the psycward (sp?) in Scottsbluff, and I thought I'd never see her again. Then she came back, and I went over to her house to spend time with her after work one Sunday. Came back with a bite mark on my arm... and then she got sick at work one Monday, so I was doing 90-100 mph on I-80 after she called to ask me to take her home. We ended up spending a generous amount of time sitting on a dirt road just talking. That was when she kissed my cheek, but I'm not counting that as "The First." That was... at a friend's house. She had no car at the time, so she was hanging out with me. Went to coffee, pizza, took leftover pizza to said friend's house. Then we just kinda hung out there for a bit. But how it happened... I was just sitting on the bed, leaning on the wall, and she and our friend were dancing. Again, anyone who knows me knows I don't (can't...) dance. So I'm sitting there, and she just crawls over me and it happens. I could tell you each and every place it happened again that night, but then I might sound a bit obsessed. Not what I'd like to come across as. But it ment so much to me, and I still don't know if she was telling the truth when she said it ment something to her, too. There are some things I may have done different, like taken up that offer to "explore", but you know...
And then she left.... just left. She never left me a note, or an e-mail, or a phone call. Just left. I blew up at her over e-mail, and we stopped talking for a long while. That's when I started cutting again. I felt horrible about saying the things I had, and I just wanted to make it all go away. All of it, in the most extreme way possible. Mom found out about my cutting, I was sent back to counseling. Was supposed to go to Scottsbluff to see some guy who could "help" me, but that obviously never happened. That event... was actually worse than when Rachael and I broke up. I don't know why, but it was. There were times I couldn't even go to school, because I was so depressed, and because I would break down and cry when I didn't see her in the halls like before. But when she finally called me, I was too stunned to talk that much. I called her on her birthday to say Happy Birthday, and she said she thought about me when she was at dinner. I want to believe it, with everything I am... but I'm so scared that it could be a lie. I want her to call again, I want to hear her again...
I think I've given nearly my whole life story in this entry.
Maybe I just needed to let some things out... Just got started and couldn't stop. I should feel better.... but digging up all these memories hurts a lot...
How, I'm just asking for someone to beat me up. But, anyone who knows me knows I fight back.
I remember the first time I tried getting pierced ears. I was really little, and my mom took me to a mall to have it done. Well.... all they did was stick me in a chair and shoved the needle of a needle gun through my ear. They just put a little dot of ink on there so they got it in the right place. God, lemme tell you, I thought that was painful. It stung and burned and was sore for several hours.
But now I want to try again. And wow, that happened.... over 10 years ago. 11 years... maybe even 12 years. Yeah, it was a while ago, was when me and the family were living in Fort Knox, Kentucky. I had a lot of fun, there. Hung out with the boys and everything, helped beat up some stupid kid who'd come up and bully kids smaller than us. So me and the guys I hung out with would run over to where ever he was and chase him off. The one time he didn't leave was the time he got the snot beaten out of him. He never came back after that. :P
Then... we moved to Louisville. (You pronounce it LOO-vul, not lewy-vill or lois-ville. People there would run you over with their car if they heard you say it wrong). I stayed there for about three years. My first "crush" on a guy there, too. But the rest were girls. It's really weird, he was the only guy I really had a crush on, but he was the girliest guy I have ever known. Very delicate, I took more hits than he ever did. I swear to God I could have broken him in half. I wouldn't be surprised if I went back, saw him, and learned he was gay. I really wouldn't be surprised.
Then we moved here. Been here for roughly 8 years. 8 years of hell, of loneliness, depression... I found out here that I was gay. First dated here, first kiss here... but Sidney's been nothing but hell. I have hardly anyone to support me, just my family and one good friend. I cry myself to sleep, I cry myself awake, I've fought here, nearly got shot here (I did that, actually... the pistol went off in my hand and nearly hit my foot. Haven't touched a real gun since then), I lost my closest friend here. Beau's been gone about a year, maybe a little more. But he was with me nearly my whole life. Every time I think about the way he looked when we had him put down makes me cry.... It was almost like a cross between relief and trust and love, and disappointment and pain and sadness. I miss him so much...
Depression, all these damn pills. I got Cyra in Scottsbluff, from the humane society. She was a gimp, but she looked like the loneliest dog I had ever seen, sitting there in that kennel. I sat down and scratched her on the neck through the chain-link, and then we let her out. She walked around on her own for a bit, then started following me around. We got her, and she was so leery about the car. I had to pick her up and stick her in there. Then.... we found out she got carsick. Me and mom and Becca and Mindy were going to get something to eat. Well, Cyra burped, sort of, and I took it as just a burp. Then Mindy started shreeking, saying "She's throwing up! She's throwing up!" It was just water, mostly. She looked so guilty afterwards, she tried to hide herself in my side. When mom and I sat on the lawn of the public library, Cyra and I played a bit, then I got up to go to the soda machine to get something to drink. When I came back, mom said Cyra practically cried the entire time I was gone. And when we drove home, Cyra fell asleep on my lap.
And then Amanda, and everything that went on between us. First an e-mail or two, then notes, then we started spending time together. Took her little brother to the Dalton Parade, sat and talked in the park, then the rape.... that's really the only way I can describe it. She wouldn't have cried or anything like that if it hadn't been, but everyone else says that it wasn't. I don't know anyone who could leave fist-sized bruises on someone they were supposed to be friends with. And then leave some sick poem in their locker afterwards. (To imagine these bruises, take the palm of your hand and try to make an outline of it on your stomach or arm or leg. Then watercolor it with blue, black, green, and purple. You'll get the general idea.) Then her mom sent her to the psycward (sp?) in Scottsbluff, and I thought I'd never see her again. Then she came back, and I went over to her house to spend time with her after work one Sunday. Came back with a bite mark on my arm... and then she got sick at work one Monday, so I was doing 90-100 mph on I-80 after she called to ask me to take her home. We ended up spending a generous amount of time sitting on a dirt road just talking. That was when she kissed my cheek, but I'm not counting that as "The First." That was... at a friend's house. She had no car at the time, so she was hanging out with me. Went to coffee, pizza, took leftover pizza to said friend's house. Then we just kinda hung out there for a bit. But how it happened... I was just sitting on the bed, leaning on the wall, and she and our friend were dancing. Again, anyone who knows me knows I don't (can't...) dance. So I'm sitting there, and she just crawls over me and it happens. I could tell you each and every place it happened again that night, but then I might sound a bit obsessed. Not what I'd like to come across as. But it ment so much to me, and I still don't know if she was telling the truth when she said it ment something to her, too. There are some things I may have done different, like taken up that offer to "explore", but you know...
And then she left.... just left. She never left me a note, or an e-mail, or a phone call. Just left. I blew up at her over e-mail, and we stopped talking for a long while. That's when I started cutting again. I felt horrible about saying the things I had, and I just wanted to make it all go away. All of it, in the most extreme way possible. Mom found out about my cutting, I was sent back to counseling. Was supposed to go to Scottsbluff to see some guy who could "help" me, but that obviously never happened. That event... was actually worse than when Rachael and I broke up. I don't know why, but it was. There were times I couldn't even go to school, because I was so depressed, and because I would break down and cry when I didn't see her in the halls like before. But when she finally called me, I was too stunned to talk that much. I called her on her birthday to say Happy Birthday, and she said she thought about me when she was at dinner. I want to believe it, with everything I am... but I'm so scared that it could be a lie. I want her to call again, I want to hear her again...
I think I've given nearly my whole life story in this entry.
Maybe I just needed to let some things out... Just got started and couldn't stop. I should feel better.... but digging up all these memories hurts a lot...
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