You ain't ever gonna change, you got a gypsy soul to blame and you were born for leaving.
Well, I'm not too sure who my audience is; if I even have an audience that is, but I just wanted to introduce who I am, so this 6 in the morning blog post is going to cover both of these things as best as possible. Or as best as my wore out mind will let it.
Why am I writing a blog post at 6 A.M.? Well, that's easy. It's because I've been wiiiiide awake since 3 in the fucking morning. I wasn't able to get back to sleep, so after a couple hours of watching TV and reading other blogs, I decided to get my lazy ass up off the couch and go work out for an hour. Damn, it felt good. Now, I'm just going to write until my arms and hands give out and I finally doze off into a deep slumber. If that can even happen.
Who I am. My name is Shelby. I am a 20 year old girl....woman? I don't know. It feels weird calling myself either of those. I am a full-time student and I am also a CNA. I've never really lived in one place for a long amount of time. Actually, I've lived at 10 different residences in all of my 20 (almost 21) years of life. Wow, I never really tallied that shit up. I don't think I'd get used to living in one spot for too long. Which is a main reason I'm dead set on staying single for a while. At least until I get myself established and settled (hopefully). I'm already planning another move to a bigger and possibly better city. I come from a very small town; 900 people population to be exact. I decided to go to school out of state and in an entirely new, definitely MUCH bigger city; somewhere I'd never been before. The day I moved into the dorms was the first time I had ever been to the city where my school is located. Yes, it was quite the change and I loved it. My relationship didn't love it too much though. I take some of the blame for why my daydream ended so abruptly and oh so deceitfully. Once I moved to the big city, I realized I loved it and school more than anything. I guess I just realized how much I could actually grow outside of the small town life. So here I am now, more grown up and needing another new city to make myself feel like an even better person. I'm the kind of person who loves new and exciting challenges. I'm constantly challenging myself and trying to do better. I feel my mom would have wanted it this way. Anyways, I was raised by my grandparents since I was just a baby. Back then, I wasn't really given the opportunity to fully understand it all because I rarely had contact with my birth mother and my younger half sisters. Looking back on it now though, I wouldn't have it any other way. My parents (grandparents) are the entire making of me. Because of them, I am who I am today. After my mom (grandmother) passed away a couple years ago, I definitely started re-evaluating who I am and how my life is going to be. I never took things seriously until I was faced with the most serious demon in my life; the cancer taking over my mother, the one person in the world I'll never get over living without's, body. Now that I've accepted and fought this demon to the best of my power, I feel like I can do anything, so I'm constantly setting myself up to do something better than I've ever done. My dad (grandfather) is a very old fashioned and simple man. He's by no means religious or spiritual, but he's definitely stuck in his strict ways. He doesn't believe in partying, teenagers having sex, drugs, etc. But ever since my mother passed away, me being 18 at the time, he's been more lenient with me. I think it has something to do with the fact that he thinks if he restricts me from all the things I've been doing behind his back since 15 years old that I'll leave him. I know he can't take another heartbreak or loss, so even if he was extremely strict with me, I'd still be right by his side. We didn't get along when I was younger. I guess it was my "growing" years that really got to him. I stayed out til 5 or 6 in the morning, conned my mom into letting me stay home from school all the time, snuck out when I wasn't allowed out, drank, explored my sexuality with a certain senior boy who took up 2 and a half years of my high school career, and in the summer, I slept all day long and stayed out all night long. It was a cycle for me that I loved and didn't intend on changing at any time. I got in trouble a lot the summer before my Junior year of high school,. A DUI and 2 Minor in possession with theft charges piled on within 4 weeks isn't really a good look for anyone, especially not a 17 year old. I guess I slowed down a lot, but definitely didn't clean up much except for the fact that I quit smoking pot as much. The sex was still there, but that was cut down too because of the dick face senior boy who used and abused me any time he felt. Yeah, I was one of those stupid girls. So moving on, after I snapped out of my dazed and confused state of absolute stupidity and self humiliation, I was able to meet someone who wanted more from me than just "shitfaced at 4 in the morning" sex. I guess you could say I fell "in love" right from the start. If "love" is even something genuine. I'm honestly not so sure. He's the boy I refer to when I talk about my oblivious and seemingly incoherent phase of life that I call my "daydream". I'll probably write a post about him sometime soon. He's been on my mind a lot lately, even after a year has passed since our brakup/last spoken words. I'll probably write a post about the baby carrot wiener senior with whom I fucked around with for way too fucking long. It's weird he was on my mind yesterday. Real bad too. Of course, this was all brought on by a "too packed for one person" bowl. Shit, I'm losing my train of thought. I'm finally getting tired and shacking up in my "pitch black even at 2 in the afternoon" room is starting to sound damn great right now. I'll continue this later on in the day. So bye for now.
I'm the kind of person who has to get rid of evidence. The way I am, it's hard for me to forget and get over things. I think something's wrong with me because I don't think it's normal, the amount of time it takes for me to get over someone or something. I think that I'm over my ex. Him as a person, I'm over it. I'm just not quite sure that I'm over what he did to me. I still think about it often. Throughout my day, there's something small that reminds me of a time I spent with him, which then leads to me thinking about all of the ways he hurt me. I think of what could have or should have happened or what I could have and should have said. It replays in my mind over and over until I force myself to believe that I've had enough of it. At first, I could never get it out of my mind. It took months for me to finally block most of it out. I went from thinking about it constantly, every single day, for months, to thinking about it once or twice, every day, up until now. I can usually go a whole day without thinking of him or what he did or what we had together, as long as I don't stumble upon something that brings it all back to me. There's still certain songs that I stay away from because I know that I won't be able to handle listening to them. I've gotten a pretty good hold over it all and some great self control. That's one thing I can love about the whole situation. I found a new sense of self and I've become a much stronger, independent person. Don't get me wrong, I don't sit and dwell over him or what he did every day. I'm not depressed and it's very easy for me to go on with my every day life without him. Now that I think about it, two years wasn't even as long as it had first seemed to be. Sure, I lived with him for 7 months of that two years, I spent every single weekend with him for those two years, but still looking back on it now, where I am in life today, it wasn't that long. There's definitely no reason to still be stuck on it all, it happened over a year ago. No, I'm not still in love with him and I definitely have no intention of ever having any type of relationship with him ever again. We haven't talked since the day he broke up with me. So for over a year now, he's been non-existent in my life. You could say that every memory I have of him is just a figment of my imagination, something I made up, a recurring daydream. In fact, that's exactly what I believe it all to be. I'm not bitter anymore. I don't hate him. I'm not mad at what he did anymore. Sometimes a little hurt, but that's only when I'm having a rough day and my self-esteem is already at a low, but other than that, I've moved on from it. After all, how can you hold onto any type of feeling for someone you never even really knew? Anyways, today was just one of those days that could have brought me to my knees about 8 months ago, but today, it was actually easier than I thought it would be. There I was, cleaning out my email folders. They're all so full and I feel like most of it is stuff I don't need. I was so right. A LOT of it was shit I just didn't need. Out of the 6 pages of my sent folder, 3 of them were all things I had sent to him; pictures of my prom dress ideas, pictures of us, pictures of me, etc. In the drafts inbox, was one single email. It was to him and it was something I had wanted to send him after we broke up. In my inbox folder, on the very last page, page 30, were a few messages from him replying to the pictures of us I had sent him. In my "pictures" folder, I found pictures I had sent from my cell phone of us when we went to Estes Park, pictures from his motocross races, pictures of us in the summer, pictures of us from prom, pictures of us just messing around at the track. Pretty much digital copies of our entire relationship. Of course, the minute I saw all of this, I quickly deleted it. I didn't give myself enough time to read the emails I had sent my best friend about the break up or the draft I was meaning to send him. I didn't try to examine any of the pictures. I definitely steered away from looking at our faces and how happy we were back then. I had a slight moment of weakness and read the first sentence of the draft email meant for him, but I stopped myself dead in my own tracks in order to keep from tearing up. Yeah, I've learned a great sense of self-control. I didn't want to be reminded of how happy we were, I didn't want to be reminded of how I felt when him and I broke up. I didn't need evidence to show that he was, in fact, a real part of my life at one time. No, I didn't need something telling me that it wasn't just a dream, that it wasn't a figment of my imagination. I decided that today is going to be something I block out of my mind, something that never happened, just like everything else about that two year daydream that I snapped out of over a year ago. It's just crazy how it's so easy for us to get rid of everything that reminds us of someone, and besides all of the songs that randomly come on the radio that remind you of the night you said "I love you", or the places you pass while traveling that remind you of the first time you ever went somewhere with that person, you still somehow manage to uncover old photos or letters that just make everything so fresh. It's almost shocking when you find something you thought that there was no more left of. It took me 3 weeks to put everything into a box; letters, pictures, game tickets, movie stubs, everything. It took me about 9 months to finally throw that box away. After that, about every 3 months, I'd find a picture on file or a picture tucked away in a book. It only took me about a minute to throw that shit out. I thought I had gotten rid of everything, until today. I'm hoping that the deletion of over 40 files is the last of it. I'm praying that it's the last of it. Because like every other daydream, we have to wake up. Reality is where we're at. Sometimes you have to let go of certain daydreams in order to do what you have to do in order to keep pushing through your every day reality.
