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thatweirdloser
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Name: Corey
Country: United States
State: Illinois
Metro: Chicago
Birthday: 6/24/1989
Gender: Female
Interests: i sit here and stare at the glowing screen. all day. 24/7. its just so beautiful... like you.
Expertise: im not... so instead i am going to list all my favorite things! movies: benny and joon, pretty in pink, how to deal, romeo and juliet, the princess bride, metaphors are dumb, 10 things i hate about you, loser, romy and michele's high school reunion, beauty and the beast, my first mister, untamed heart, empire records, dirty dancing, ferris bullers day off, the breakfast club, the nightmare before christmas, donnie darko, heathers, lucas, and high fidelity, there are a lot more, but thats all i remember right now.. bands: THE SMASHING PUMPKINS!, new radicals, modest mouse, the cranberries, josh joplin group, marcy playground, mary's window, alien ant farm, the offspring, john mayer, the goo goo dolls, zwan, lifehouse, everclear, nirvana, garbage, avril, vertical horizan, american hi-fi, sugarcult, dues, no doubt, mustard plug, letters to cleo, save ferris, counting crows, the ramones, james iha, and a jillion billion more.
Occupation: Artist
Industry: Entertainment
Message: message meEmail: email me
AIM:  Weirdogirlotopia
AIM: Weirdogirlotopia
AIM: Weirdogirlotopia
AIM: Weirdogirlotopia
Member Since:
6/5/2002
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| what the fuck is wrong with you?
Seriously. Seriously.
I give you everything. I do everything I can think of to do for you, and when i lay quit in your fucking bed, you sit in the kitchen. I AM UNWELL, and it is your job to lay next to be, and wrap me up, and tell me it's okay, that you care about me, that i mean a lot to you, but do you do that?
no. you wait until i am restless enough to get up, go into the other room to read, and then you sit at your desk and work.
i am the one who is fucked, to think I could make you care enough about me to open your fucking mouth about it.
you're a piece of shit sometimes, asshole.
you really fucking suck.
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| There is a time and there is a place for the things that go on in my head. I thought a lot about what claudia said about the things i have been thinking a lot about as of late, and she is right.
So, I am not going to think about them.
I cannot make a conscious effort to not think about them, but i think i am able to just find other things to think about.
I think a lot, I think that I can be pretty good at thinking by now. Don't you? It's hard to find things to think about that don't somehow make me sad or let me down in some way.
I have to confront that this thing I have found, that means so much to me and makes me so happy, may never have the same effect on the person I share it with. and of course that is hard to do, but what isn't hard for me?
I have grown so much from the person I used to be but in a lot of ways i am still very much the same. I am still the same girl that used to post here, and I still will be many years from now, whether I am alone, or not.
I know I will find other things that make me happy. I know.
But when I look back, nothing appears as big as this.
Nothing.
And I remember it all pretty well, I think. When I listen to the music I used to listen to, and when I read the words people have written to, and about me, I find a kind of peace, but it is not lasting.
I am being cryptic.
I realize this.
I really don't have any reason to feel this way.
My eyes hurt.
My face hurts.
My chest hurts.
I find myself pre-emptively listening to break up songs, and afraid to enjoy the thing that is current.
There is not a lot I can do.
I can hope, but what is that, really?
Bluh.
I am terrified, absolutely horrified that I am seeing something that isn't there. That what I want, I want bad enough that I will see it whether it is even kind of there or not there at all.
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| perhaps I am a little melodramatic.
It's better than I made it sound..
A great deal better.
Don't worry.
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| Prepare yourselves, fools, this may be a doozy:
Seriously?
Oh my god. It's like being punches, every single time I think about her. Seriously. No Goddamned joke. I want to track her down, and ask her questions. And tell her what she's done. How she's broken him. My stomach is heavy and achy when all the plays are about her, and when I listen to all the songs about her. All of them. I would die to be her.
If I could give up being loved by anyone, for ever, for all the days of my life, so that she would love him, and they'd be together, and happy, and close to one another, I would. I would do it. He deserves true love and happiness more than anyone I know. He is so good, and so kind and caring and genuine.
You know, in the Notebook, when Allie is all gone and with dumbshit guy, Noah occupies his time with Martha. I feel like Martha. Entirely. Like one day, she'll come back, and I will want to meet her and she'll be truly great, and everything will be amazing for him. And I will be happy because I'll know he is happy.
Nothing has ever been more annhiliating than hearing all his words for her, and hearing him call her "his girlfriend." I want to be his girlfriend, and I think it could happen. I really do. I can tell he likes me, I can tell he wants to be around me. He cares a lot about me, I know he does.
I want him to love me. If I ever her those words from his mouth, I am pretty sure my heart will stop beating.
She is not me.
I ache. I hurt. I feel so lousy when left only to my thoughts, because they somehow always wander in his direction, and then toward her, and they fall at her feet and I've lost hope.
Hope is a funny thing.
I try not to hope, I try to just do. But I can only do so much, and hope for the rest.
Love Love Love.
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