One flutter just creates more, until you have no option but to finally say it

There was a point in time when all I did was read fiction, fanfictions, and then create one of my own. It gave me the satisfaction to even just pretend a little, like having an imaginary friend, that someone was always there besides me. When I started writing, by the time I went to sleep I had the story running through my head, playing out piece by piece, and then I would decide what would happen next right there, to write about the next day. At that point in time I never thought I was laying in my bed, lights off to sleep. I was my own main character, living a story I could choose. To me, that's one of the things that caused my over-creative and sometimes absurd imagination. Of course it was all romance and drama, but it could explain something.

This all began when I was about 13 years old. I discovered Quizillia and I became attached to my creations even more.


I don't think there's anything wrong with Disney.
Sure, we can say it brainwashes little girls into thinking love is so... magical. Well... to be honest, I'd agree with those little girls thinking it was that magical feeling.

Just personally but,
I felt like it was magical. I can't pinpoint a certain reason as to why that was so, but looking back on it now I still wonder and get confused why we even bothered. Why did I bother? should be a better question. I tell stories all the time. And the answer to the stories can lead to multiple reasons, especially coming from me. But I think it's safe to say that it's because of that magical feeling that one sticks around.

I guess what I'm trying to ask is, how often does one fall in love?
Nothing like dating or stuff, but seriously. It's something you just know.

High school I dated two guys, but neither lasted for more than four months. I felt nothing. Even when we kissed. Didn't feel very comfortable either. That's what I'd call just dating. Of course there's many versions, I just happened to get the absolute bottom one. I guess... I'm not saying I'm an expert at this stuff but... nevermind, trying to explain this is just going to cause problems.

The questions I tend to ask myself usually revolve around if I'm happy or not.
Let's ask again. Am I happy?
Answer: No, not really. Well, a day like today I'm kinda depressed but on other days I'm just more content with everything. Clearly not the best but just a little below the normal content line.
There's different reasons as to why this is, so don't relate it all to what this blog is about.

Thinking back all I did was get mad. I yelled, I got depressed, I overreacted, I cried, I'd have my fits. Then he asked me, "Why were you guys even dating?"

I went back into my room and just sat there thinking about it. I guess that's were this topic comes from. Why were we? I came up with two conclusions. Either I was afraid to be alone and would miss the comfort of his arms, or I felt more attached to him in a good way. I can't say about him. I don't know why he decided to stick around. All we ever did was fight. But we also had a lot of good times, memorable times when we laughed together. Days we truly enjoyed being with each other.
 

And even through the arguments, until the very end, I think that's enough to prove, at least for me, that it was more than just being scared. I think it was proven a few days ago. Because it hurt.


I haven't had butterflies in my stomach for the longest time now. Until the other day. I was a little confused by what the pain meant, but by the time I realized it was butterflies it was too late. And I couldn't re-due the moment.

I haven't given up on finding someone Disney worthy. Because there are those guys. Maybe I won't receive love letters in the mail, or come back from school one day to see flowers on my bed... no, guys should give their girl flowers. If they don't they're really stupid, just saying. But you know, there are really good-natured guys out there. Disney doesn't tell lies. There's just too many guys who don't want to try or go to an extent to treat us the way we would like to. And I'm one of those girls who needs to learn how to treat a guy properly. I want to start over. Completely over.

I was told that it was nice to know that someone cares about him.
Would you allow me to say the same?

regret number one:
Being one of the worst girlfriends in the world.

What was going through our minds as we allowed our fingers to intertwine?

I've decided to start a new blog-area.
Whoever has been reading my blogs probably wondered why my titles were so... abstract?

"this scream is the beginning of a new morning dew"

It sounds strange but maybe if you were able to think just a little in my shoes you might be able to read behind the words and figure out what I'm trying to say. It's just a little more complex. I want my blog titles to somehow reflect on how I'm trying to look at my own life, what I'm trying to deal with, a mixture of both sadness and disappointment while trying to see the next day as possibly brand new; a time to start over and breathe again.

"this scream"
Emotional/work/school stress, a cry for help.

"morning dew"
A new day, to try again.

Maybe it's just me that finds it almost appropriate. And even though I don't write as much about my personal feelings on here as much as I'd like to, I've actually found myself writing in my notebook again to release most of my pent up thoughts. But it doesn't mean anything.

I guess I want to recapture my life. Recapture everything I was back in freshman year.
Yeah...

I guess, this will be the blog where I'll finally let out my regrets.