I don't really know who I am or what I'm "into". I just seem to get swept along with everyone around me-their desires, likes, tastes, habits, hobbies. (Well, okay, except for the food thing, I'm an irritatingly picky eater.)
Jebus, I don't even know why I'm writing here now. Nothing else to do maybe? He's out with her. Again. With her. Jealous? Yeah. Of COURSE! Who WOULDN'T be jealous of her boyfriend fucking someone else? And I've even finally come up with her colour: Lightning. Why? Because she's so...sudden. There one minute, far away the next, happy one second, miserable right after. Pissy and thrilled, expectant and hopeless all in the blink of an eye.
Shit just keeps on happening, doesn't it? Sooner or later, it'll all end. Why the FUCK can't it be sooner?
Laters

A letter:
Dear Stormy,
Our parents never really let us grow up. Somehow you found a way despite their interference. The boys never did. And me? I've been faking it. Coping, getting by, dealing, somehow finding a way through. So now I'm stuck in a grown up body with adult responsibilities and not a fucking clue. So you want to make my decisions for me. What makes you think that you know what's right for me? What makes you think that you're so much better and wiser and stronger than I'm capable of being? What makes you think that Amethyst is your responsibility? What makes you think that you can hijack and determine the course of my entire life without knowing me? I mean REALLY knowing me. Not who I was when we were children. Who I am now. No, I don't know either. Maybe one of these days you'll actually let ME figure it out.
Love,
Your Sister

And another:
Dear Ruby,
You were my Eden, my Adam, my everything. And I...I was your downfall. I tasted the forbidden fruit and I dragged you down with me. I can never tell you how sorry I am. And even if your heart would listen, I doubt I could explain. There were so many things that I want to tell you, so many memories I want to relive. You knew me for a while. You might have loved me, too. Remember how we used to go to the movies all the time and how it was so much more fun to talk about the bad ones afterwards? Remember initiating me into the indie movie scene and introducing me to so many different authors and musicians? Remember sleeping beside me, talking to me, sharing everything? Remember our daughter, how she was OURS? Remember how you let me go? Remember how I left? Do I want you back? No. I want you to be happy. I want you to live your life and put the time you had with me behind you, the daughter you once loved at a far remove. And at the same time...yes. A RESOUNDING "YES!" I want back into the garden. I want back into the dream. I want the naivete of believing that a first love can be a forever love. I want back the faith I had-in you and in all things. But mostly...I just want my friend.
I lied to you. Not while we were together, at least not about anything important because that I would recall. But since then. About the new dream. That's all it was, a dream. Fire Opal, and I was still naive. The never existing part of my past. You were so real, and I was so wrong. Wrong about everything.
Since you've been gone...no, since I'VE been gone, you've found so many others to take comfort in. REAL comfort, not the illusion that I had mastered the art of seizing. In other words, relationships for you, frivolous sex for me. God, I can't tell you how much that hurt. And I don't know if it still does or not.
Why am I writing this now, three years and a million miles later? I have no idea. I no longer have your ring. Maybe I miss it, miss knowing that I had SOMETHING of you, of yours, even after all this time. Maybe I'm just feeling nostalgic tonight. Who knows?
Now I'm with another. Who loves me, and I'm as sure of His love as I was doubtful of yours. Did I love you? Do I love Him?
More and more questions that I refuse to answer.
Anyway, I guess that's all. I hope you're doing well (as if that's not the lamest thing for an ex-girlfriend to say), and I hope you're happy. Even if it does mean you found it without me.
Love,
Your Eve,
Your Once Upon A Time

I miss me. The real me, the me I grew up with, the me I've always been. No one here knows me. They call me by another name. Candi, candi cane, candigyrl, miss candi, aunt candi. Whatever happened to me? Save me. Candi is a facade, a mask, a place to hide. For so long, no one has called me by the name I was given, the name I love. The name that MEANS love. Who am I? Not this candi. I don't want to hide behind it anymore. I want to be with people who know me as I am, who call me what I am. Ruby knew my name. He called me by my name. And I lost him. My family as well. Am I doomed to live in this candied life? Forever? Doesn't anyone realize how important it is to me to be ME?
They sleep. I sit here, hour upon hour, awake, aware, conscious. While they sleep and dream. A house full of people and I'm the only one living in it. If I appear in their dreams, it is, perhaps, as a sugar plum faerie, a sweet bite, a tasty morsel. I long for the days when I was me, allowed to be me, loved for me-ME and not what I could be, not what I could turn into given time and training. Me. But who am I? I don't even know. I believe what they tell me. Gullible, foolish, simple me.
The rain hits my face, stinging the tears right back to my eyes. I welcome the pain, I revel in the cleansing. The very nature of the droplets pouring down on me is purity in and of itself. But beauty is only skin deep. And the rain can only reach the outer layer. Inside is corrupt, blackened, bruised, empty. And vulnerable.
They've died. Those pieces of her heart she so freely gave away. They were irreparably separated from her and they cannot live apart from the source. The feeble, fragile source, now. Because they've left so many holes, the rest can never be whole again. But oh, how it yearns for its lost pieces. Oh, how it remembers the once upon a time.
Laters

My family have all disowned me. Or disassociated themselves from me, which amounts to the same thing. Why? Because of Him. Because of things they have no business knowing, no business having opinions on. It's MY fucking life. Not theirs. My choices. Yeah, there are some things that really suck. The fact that I can't even really pay my rent because of Him, for instance. The fact that He's fucking another woman. But...I dunno. He loves me. Or at least He claims to, and I believe Him. That's probably stupid, knowing how often I've been fucked for trusting.
Ah, well.
C'est la vie.
Laters

I dreamt about Ruby last night.
I was in his place, the place that used to be ours. In the dream, it used to be ours, but I know that we never lived anywhere like it. He lived with his girlfriend. We visited, talked, ate, normal things like that. Then his girlfriend went to bed and we made love. Not just fucking, not just sex, not just touching or foreplay. Something that went so much deeper than that. And during it, all the problems that we'd had were gone. He'd changed, bettered, became somewhat close to perfect. And when I had to leave, he asked me to stay. To make love to him again. I did. Then his girlfriend walked in, catching us in the act. She wasn't that upset. But he spent the rest of the dream talking to her, being with her, convincing her that I was just a fluke, a freak accident, and that he never wanted to be with me again, hadn't even ever wanted to be with me in the first place. So I was left. Alone. Bruised, broken, and unloved.
When I awoke, my bruises and cuts were throbbing.
Laters

"I'll have more [here meaning any] respect for him when he starts contributing in any way, treats you like anything other than shit, and stops fucking your friends."
Is Stormy right? My face is so bruised I have to wear five layers of makeup-NOT my area of expertise, seeing as how I NEVER wear makeup-my rent is unpaid, as are my electric (for three months) and phone bills, my communications are restricted to the point of only being allowed to have contact with immediate family and neighbors-and, of course, teachers and the like to be able to take care of Amethyst-I haven't gotten laid in a week (while He's been out fucking HER), and I'm in so much fucking pain it's nearly unbearable. This is just too fucked up. 'Voluntary' my ass.
I do love her. But godDAMN! How is she treating me with anything other than disdain when she invites MY boyfriend to fuck her when she's not even SPEAKING to me? An utter lack of respect on her part. And it's not getting any better. She doesn't trust me. Hell, HE doesn't even trust me. So why in the fuck should I trust them? Always whispering and plotting together, leaving me out of everything-except to watch the kids, of course-Him telling me He wants a poly-relationship and that's why He's with her. But even tonight when they were kissing each other-right in front of me-and the baby started crying, *I* was the one who made any move to go comfort her. Because they were too wrapped up in each other. I'd be perfectly expendable if it weren't for the kids.
But I can't say that, can I? Oh, no. Of course not. I can't even MENTION that it bothers me to have my boyfriend fucking another woman because then I'm a selfish bitch who wants everything for myself. How would SHE feel if it were HER husband who was fucking ME? But no. Candi has to take it. All of it. The beatings, the restrictions, the emotional trauma.
And you know what FUCKING PISSES ME OFF? They know I will.
Laters

"Tell me who should I be to make you love me
Tell me what does it mean to be alone
Can't you see me standing staring out from the distance
Hear my cry if you'd only listen
Out of focus into me and you

Kiss me fool, if you care
if your words have any meaning
Playing it cool is so unfair
Why this veil of secrecy
God forbid your friends found out what we did
Why can't someone like you be with someone like me

Tell me who should I be to make you love me
Tell me what does it mean to be alone
Can't you see me standing staring out from the distance,
Hear my cry if you'd only listen
Out of focus into me and you

Touch me fool, if you're allowed
I'll be dancing in the corner
It's so cruel to play it proud
Take your hands and cover me
I'm aware that all in love is fair
But that's no reason to make me feel this way

Tell me who should I be to make you love me
Tell me what does it mean to be alone
Can't you see me standing staring out from the distance
Hear my cry if you'd only listen
Out of focus into me and you.

And it hurts me so bad to deny it,
These feelings are out of control
Do you know what it's like to want something so bad
And then having to let it go
And it hurts me to know that this time in our lives
So soon will be in the past
And you spend it pretending and playing it cool
Never knowing
Never knowing
Never knowing what
What we should have had

Tell me who should I be to make you love me
Tell me what does it mean to be alone
You've got me wondering if I'm good enough
Pretty enough
Giving enough
Special enough

Tell me who should I be to make you love me
Who should I be
Who should I be
To make you love me
Who should I be
Who should I be
To make you love me
Who should I be
Who should I be
To make you love me"

Goddammit. Things are so fucking screwy right now. I love her SO FUCKING MUCH. And she worse than ignores me-she treats me as if I am the root of all that is evil in her life. Yet I'm the one willing to forgive, to share, to love, to be with her for always. Even now, Raven's up there. Why? Because I asked Him to go, to be with her, listen to her, comfort her. I asked Him to do this because I cannot. It should be my arms around her, my shoulder soaked with her tears. *sigh* Even in that I suppose I'm selfish: I want to be the one she turns to, I want to be there for her, I want her to trust me, love me. Goddammit, I want to give her everything. And all I want from her-ever-is love, attention. Maybe every now and then a tattoo, but only if she wants to, it would never be a requirement, never a demand.
I miss her. I feel as if I finally found the last part of me only to have it ripped away again. With her, with Him, with the two of them, I felt WHOLE. Now I have Him and while what we have is...I dunno, good I guess, all I can think about is her. I send Him up there, think of things to do for her (through Him, of course), try to help her, offer whatever meager services I am capable of rendering. I feel helpless, knowing I can do nothing to change her mind, knowing that all I can do is hope and wait and love and miss and cry sometimes.
Who SHOULD I be? Tell me and I will. Anything, anyone, everything, whatever you want I'll do, say, be. I love you. I miss you. And you don't even know. You'll never read this, never know how much you mean to me. You'll just wander around oblivious to the pain I'd gladly bear a thousand times over if only I had any assurance that in the end you'd see me, love me, be with me. Tell me. I'm yours. But you'll never know.
Laters