// Stand-By//

Everyone tells me I don’t deserve this shit. That I deserve better. I don’t deserve to feel like this, to be treated like this. Everyone tells me I shouldn’t need you, but I do.

I can never quite get everything out when I’m talking to you. I have this mental checklist of what I need to talk to you about, what I want you to do, how to make me feel better. I mean, when your girlfriend is seriously depressed and there’s all these reasons for it but she never says anything, don’t you think something might be up? That you might want to say, “Hey baby, talk to me, let me be the one you can come to & cry to without being judged.” I try to do that for you, but it never quite works. I know how girls want to be comforted, I am a girl, and I’ve had girl-girl relationships. I don’t know how to comfort a guy like you. I’m stumped. I try, I don’t know if you see it, but I do, really really hard. I don’t know if you notice or appriciate it, all the things that I do for you, all the things I’ve changed for you. There’s this part of me that wants to write you a list and shove it in your fucking face, and then you’ll realize & be taken aback. But your reaction like that will never happen. So I just keep it all locked up inside, and sometimes it spurts out a little and everything just turns out bad for me, because you think I’m holding it over your head.

I do things,expectinghoping for a certain reaction out of you. But I need to stop & realize that this isn’t a movie. The girl can’t change the guy, and she’ll never get what she wants or needs. She has to settle. Uhm, okay no, scratch that. I know plenty of girls whose relationships are like movies that never end. Her boyfriend says cutsie nice things to her to make her feel beautiful and respected and loved and all these other things I want to feel. He puts her first, before himself. He holds her when she’s crying and never says she’s stupid, even when she’s being an idiot. He doesn’t say “It’s all in your head!” because even if it is, he knows that it’s still real to her. The pain and the fears and the things that can’t be explained (like allergies). He notices when she’s upset and when she really needs him, and he’s there for her. When she loses someone or something that was meaningful to her, he has sympathy. He has sympathy for things he can’t understand because his girl is, well, a woman, and there’s just things that go one with women that men will never ever in the existance of time will ever understand. Face it, and deal with it.

He’d come to her for the comfort he doesn’t even realize he needs. He’ll do things for her and pamper her and tell her she’s beautiful. Guys, most of us know we’re beautiful, but we’re not going to say we are, because we’re humble. There’s a difference between “OMG!! I’m so ugly like yea?” (as they post millions of photos with their hair & makeup done in gorgeous clothes & they’re actually very pretty but want people to tell them they’re pretty), “I’m sexy, i know it, I flaunt it, and I’ll point out every flaw on everyone else to makemyself feel even more beautiful” (those are the ones you want to stay away from, because they’re conceited bitches), and “Yea I think I’m pretty but I don’t think I’m overly gorgeous. I’m not going to go out of my way to say or show how pretty I am, because I don’t need to. If someone compliments me, I’ll blush and thank them because I really don’t know how pretty I am. And when I find the one who means more than anything, he’ll tell me how beautiful I am, and maybe I’ll actually believe it, but I’m still going to be shy and blush and be humble because that’s just who I am.” There’s the attention seeker kind of beautiful, the beautiful bitch, and the humbled beautiful. I’m that last one, and I think you’re that ‘one’, and I honestly want you to remind me every now & then that I’m beautiful, especially when I don’t feel very beautiful. That’s just how we girls are.

But, again, my life, particularly, is not a movie. My ‘one’ is not going to make me feel like the lead-girl in some love story, even though I go out of my way to make him feel like a movie-star, tell him how much I appriciate everything he does, give him gifts even though I really can’t afford it. And even though he knows, I want him to accept it, even if it’s a crappy gift, and appriciate it. Because he loves me. He may not feel like I’m doing all that I do for him, because I’m still depressed. I still need him more than anything, and sometimes, lately more than ever, spills out & I screw myself over.

I’m human. I make mistakes. Sometimes I repeat those mistakes a few times. At least it’s not doing drugs, or cheating, or having unsafe sex, etc. My mistakes? Calling too much because I can’t talk to you most times when I do call and all I want is to have one good conversation where we’re both happy. Not leaving a message. Forgetting to login to a game one day when I have logged in for the last few months without a single mishap. Not knowing how to ask you if you’re okay, how to comfort you over the phone or a web-call. (Normally I’d wrap my arms around for a while, let you bury yourself in me, and then make you something to eat). My biggest mistake? Needing you. Needing things from you that you just won’t give me.

In case you ever read this, here’s a few lists for you. I doubt you will read this though, even if I have the courage enough to send you the link, you probably won’t go to it. Or you’ll see how long it is and metaphorically toss it in the trash.

The Things I Want/Need From You:

  • Sympathy every now and then. When I’m going through girl stuff, when I’m going through stuff that’s “only in my head”, or things I can’t explain.
  • Lots and Lots of love. It’s a semi-rare occasion I get it around here without seeking it out. I was hurt, badly, by people that held the title of my boyfriend, and I’m damaged. I understand that you are too, and I take that into account when you’re not so nice, and I try to be extra sympathetic, but I get tired too, ya know?
  • I need you to show me that you need me. When I doubt us because of my own fears and insecurities and your lack of “My baby, my girl, my bunny”, just tell me.
  • What’s wrong with showing the one person you should trust the most that you’re vulnerable? That’s why I don’t hide many things from you, why it’s hard for me to. Because I trust you, and you can see every part of me. That’s all I want from you. To show me that you’re human, that you have feelings too, that you feel for me just as much, if not more, as I feel for you.

The Things I’ve Done For You:

  • Given up my personal dreams of standing on a stage, doing what I love & I’m good at (even if you don’t think so), and having millions of people around me that love what I’m doing. Ever since a was little I’ve wanted to be a famous singer, but I gave that up to sing to you and our beautiful children. A much better audience, in my opinion.
  • Stopped talking to people that you don’t like. I used to be the guy’s girl. One of the guys, you know? I didn’t care to hang out with girls, and I still don’t. I get along much better with those of the male species. But I’ve stopped being around people I’m comfortable with so that you’ll be more comfortable. But you shouldn’t be so insecure that you want to cut me off from certain people. You’re my one and only, even if this “stand by” thing turns out that we’re over. You’re still going to be my first and last. There will be no other girlfriends/boyfriends after you. Not another kiss, not another touch, not another anything. You’re the only one. Maybe I should’ve put that in a seperate bullet.
  • Stopped drinking and cutting. They weren’t good things to begin with, but you got me to stop. So, yeah.
  • I’m graduating a year early, babe. When I was behind at the beginning of the year. I’m giving up my social life to go to college full time and do extra classes and get a job on top of that. I’m doing this all for you, when I had so many senior plans. I’m giving that up for you.
  • I’ve become this submissive type of thing. Not quite where you want me to be, but a hell of a lot more than I ever was before. Open your eyes and realize that.
  • I came over, did your dishes, cleaned your house, showed you how much I wasn’t going to give up on you. I walked to your house every morning, was there by 5am. If that doesn’t show some female dedication, I don’t know what does.
  • I did some things that I’m not really going to state, because they were kind of beneficial for us both (more you than me, though).

There’s more, but honestly, I’m really, really tired right now.

I’ve been so depressed. All I want to do is eat, sleep, and talk to you. But talking to you usually does the opposite of cheering me up. Hense, usually. There are those rare times when you make me so so happy that it’s hard to contain. But I’m sad, and I want to cry all the time. I’m gaining weight, and it seems it’s only wanting to settle in my stomach area. I would be so much happier, have so much more self-esteem, and actually be happy with no doubts when you buy things for me if I could just get rid of this effing weight. There’s no reason for it. I’m not eating more, in fact I’m eating healthier. I’m excersising (even though I just want to sleep & do nothing). I’m so irritable, too. It’s like one second I’m normal & the next I just want to scream, & then I want to sleep again. Little things are bothering me that used to be just, whatever to me. And for some reason, I need you so much more, which is only pissing you off, and then I get more depressed. All the little things that I would need from you but I could overlook for a while, suddenly I’ve become desperate for. It used to be fine, and now it’s not. And I cry over stupid things. Little things. Mainly it’s when we hang up, even if we’ve just had the most amazing conversation ever. What is going on with me? With us?

// Problems of a Butterfly Soul//

I hate the fact that I don’t see people as their physical gender. That’s not my only way of veiwing them. Guys arn’t just walking penises to me, and girls arn’t just boobs. I mean, seriously? We’re all the same in God’s eyes. And because I don’t discriminate between physcial genders, it makes ithard forme to understand how people can be so uneasy about me hanging out the someone that has a penis rather than someone who has boobs. It’s so confusing to me. I mean, the same thing can happen with a “girl” that can happen with a “guy”, so why be so tight-lipped about a physical genetic outcome? A penis is a penis & a vagina is a vagina, but it’s what’s on the inside that makes you who you really are. Why must our physical sex determine almost everything about us from the get-go? It really sucks.

Now, I’m not trying to change anything, because I know that no matter how hard I try, it will never change. Just like racism never will, world hunger will never end, and we will never achieve world peace. It’s just the truth, despite how much we supposedly “want” it. I just wanted to state my confusion. Because of the fact I am what you would call a pansexual, I don’t see a difference in people. Whether you’re a man, woman, transgender, etc, it does not mean a thing to me except the fact that you’re making yourself happy, which makes me happy for you.

For example, my dear boyfriend doesn’t want me to hang out with guys unless he’s there. First of all, control issue much? I will hang out with whoever I damn well please unless my mama feels like they are a threat to me, like Mr. Ex-Boyfriend. Second of all, you may be straight and see all people with penises a threat, but all I see them as are friends. Must you be really that insecure in our 4-year relationship that you can’t even trust me hanging out with a male-friend? I’ve never cheated on you, okay? I’ve never given you reason to distrust me this way. Three summers ago, an ex of mine came over when you wern’t there and decided that he was going to kiss me. As soon as he did that, I pushed him away from me & told him to get the hell off my property, go home, & to not come back. Then there was my freshman year of high school (I’m now a junior), when you were living in Bellingham. I was over at my best friend’s house (at the time). He’s currently one of your best friends too. I was missing you, I didn’t have a whole lot of faith in our relationship at the time, & I had a huge crush on Rick, and he the same. We almost kissed. It was there, between us, as we were practicing the guitar & bass chords to the song I wrote, WildFlower. We stopped, & I could feel it. I even saw him inch closer to me, his eyes drooping. I almost gave in, too. But then, all of a sudden, I could smell you. You mixed with the cologne you wear. My heart immidiately constricted in my chest & I turned from Rick, set his guitar on his bed, grabbed my stuff, & left. It was in that moment that I realized how much I feel for you. I cried on the bus all the way home bacause of what I almost did. But never have I ever done anything to earn your distrust in me. Even in the beginning, when it was hard, I loyally stayed faithful to you. Since then, it hasn’t been hard. I don’t even look at other people. All I can think about is you. I can’t imagine ever being with another person, I love you so much, and you’ll never see this, so you’ll never know.

And again, my parents. My parents believe that just because someone can get me pregnant, that they shouldn’t be trusted. I have gay friends that they still don’t trust. But can’t you trust me? I kind of understand your worry when it comes to the male-gender, but I’m your daughter. Why can’t you trust me? I am 16 years old, 17 in October. I have never in my life touched drugs, when I’ve had alcohol, it’s only been with you. When I drank champeign at a wedding you wern’t at, I called you and told you. I’m still a vigin, I’ve never once snuck out of the house, and I try to keep up on my chores. I try to bite my tongue & if I start to get an attitude with you, I calm myself down and start over. Mom, what were you doing when you were my age? I don’t judge you for these mistakes, but looking at where you were at my age, you should appriciate me a HELL of lot more.

You were anorexic, you had bolemia. You were partying & doing drugs (not hardcore drugs, but drugs none-the-less). You drank alcohol, snuck out, and you were having sex. You got pregnant & gave birth to me at the age of 16, my father (who gladly you’re still with) was 21. But really, please, look back at what you did at my age, and what I’m doing now. The worst I’ve done is that I haven’t told you the whole truth about where I’m going. I didn’t tell you that on the way to the library, my boyfriend and I were stopping at his house to pick up some books and, yes, make out. Okay, but we’ve been together for four damn years, we’re both still virgins. We want to have sex, yes, protected sex. We want a family but we’re not ready for one right now, not in high school, and probably not in college. But really? We need some time and space to make out at least. I mean, jeez. And if we do have sex? That’s why I’m on the Depo-shot and we have condoms. I love him, Mom & Dad, and he loves me. After four years? Yea, we’re in love. We want to make love, and we’re going to. I will tell you, I will take care of myself, & if we break up sometime down the road, we’ve both agreed we won’t regret what we did, because we were with the person we loved at the time. If I, no, WE get pregnant, I will have the baby, stay in school, we’ll get jobs, & take care of it. We already thought I was pregnant once. Okay, scratch that, I was pregnant once. We were, well, I don’t know what you would call it. We were makeing out naked. He came on me, and neither of us realized that, well, sperm can swim. Two months later, I had a miscarriage & I didn’t even know it. I hadn’t had my period, but I wasn’t too alarmed because my period does that periodically (haha, pun). But then I got sick. I took a test & it was possitive. I decided one night that the next day, we would go to Planned Parenthood & get a real test. That morning, there was, blood & stuff in the toilet. I didn’t know what it was, & it really freaked me out. We went during school, & I realized I had lost the baby. Granted, my amazing, loving boyfriend didn’t know I was pregnant for two months & had a miscarriage until about a month or so ago, he still supported me. He was excited even, talking about whether it would be a boy or a girl, what we would name it, where we could love together & talking about the wedding. He was even disapointed when the lady came back to us & told me the test was negative. And, with relief, it broke my heart. I loved that little baby more than I had loved anything or anyone in this entire world. And my body rejected it.

This all made me realize how careful I really have to be. That’s why I went on the shot, and now, Josh & I won’t even naked-make-out without a condom. Hell, we’ll barely make-out without a condom nearby & ready. We’re safe, he honestly loves me, and Jesus Christ, Mom. If he knocks me up, you know damn well his momma will skin him! Then she’ll turn him around & MAKE him take care of me. Even though he would do it anyway.

This is my rant, hope you enjoyed it. Anybody got any advice for this poor little pansexual butterfly??


Hmm… I think that would have to be my sketchbook, or my camera.

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