AN: So, this is just kind of a little experiment. I've been really down in the dumps for no reason lately, so my writing has kind of taken on my feelings. On the plus side, it makes me feel better, and the writing actually isn't that bad. (I hope..). Anyway, like I said, this was just an experiment. I really don't usually write things like this at all, but this one just kind of, found it's way from my brain, to my fingers, to the keyboard, to Word. It's actually been collecting dust for a month or so now, so I decided what the heck, haven't posted anything in a while, might as well.
And so with that pointless introduction, hope you like this. R&R!
Disclaimer: Nope. Don't own a thing.
I'm done. Done with boys. Done with relationships. Done with telling people how I feel. Done with trying to get revenge. Done with caring. Done with, well, everything.
I gave it my all. I gave him all of me. But it wasn't enough. I wasn't enough. And it kills me inside.
Someday he'll think of me. Someday he'll realize how much I loved him. Someday he'll realize he shouldn't have let me go. But I know that last part won't happen.
Competition brings out the worst in me. Everyone tells me that. As if I didn't already know. Trust me, I do. They told me not to audition for this show. I didn't listen. Because I was proud. I refused to take their advice. And now look at me, I'm a wreck. I should've listened.
Now I'm on my way home. On a plane, with a bunch of strangers. Oh, but how I wish that was true. I don't know them, but they know me. They don't just know me, they hate me. I pretend like it doesn't bother me, having all these people I don't know glare at me. But it kills me inside. Because I know I deserve it.
I wish I'd have never seen the advertisement. I wish I'd never thought for once I had a chance of winning. But my pride, it's deadly. It rules my life. I want so badly to say I'm done with my pride, but I know that's not true. Because it's the last thing I have left in my life.
As much as I hate this plane, I don't want to get off. Because no matter how much it hurts to have people you don't know glare at you, it hurts worse to have the people you know and love do it. I would know. I've made it happen so many times. I convinced myself I didn't care, because once we were gone, I'd never see them again. But I know that once I get home, I won't have friends, and my family will be disappointed. Not because I lost, but because I let my guards down, and let a delinquent in.
I sit and listen to my music. But everything is either too sad or too happy. So I turn it off. I want to focus on the movie, but it's a horror film. Something he would have watched. I can't bring myself to watch it, because it makes me think of him. Everything makes me think of him.
Someday, this will all blow over. I don't know when, but it will. The only time people will see me is on those 'What-ever-happened-too?' shows. But they won't have much. No. Because I'll be long gone by then. A ghost.
My name is Courtney. My last name is unimportant. Because it won't be my last name for long. I'm changing my name, you see. My appearance, as well. No, I'll no longer be that uptight brunette girl, who let her pride get in the way of love, and who was always comfortable with the way she looked. I'll be a new person. Only on the outside though, of course. Because these scars on the inside, they'll never go away.