Author's notes at the end of the story.
This is not me. This is not who I am.
When did this start? Around the time I met him, I guess. I don't even know.. when I stopped being myself and trying to be something else. All for him. Everything I did, everything I said.. it was in hopes of getting a kind word from him. Sometimes it worked, sometimes it didn't. Most of the time, it didn't. After awhile, I ran out of things to say.
Yuki Eiri.. so cool, detached, and so goddamn confident that I'd like to punch that smirk off of his face. Yes, I love him. He does NOT love me. I can't fool myself. I can't be his -toy- anymore. I'm not something he can use, something he can be kind to for awhile, then toss aside when he gets bored. Most of all, I am NOT going to be his -posession-.
He never really treated me like a person. Every time I went to him for comfort, all I got was scorn. When I showed him my new lyrics, all I got were cruel remarks. He'd just laugh at me and go back to his computer, smoking a cigarette and drinking a beer. Calling me 'baka' over and over, never giving me a -chance- to improve.. just judging immediately and going off on that one idea.
After awhile, it became ritual. I was used to it. I started to believe what he said, and I started to suffer. I withdrew from my friends, only saw them when I had to - events for Bad Luck. Most of the time, I locked myself in my room, staring out a window. I thought a lot. It really isn't like me to write my emotions down, but one day, I bought a notebook and took it home. I perched in the windowsill and stared out, and after a few minutes, I started writing. The words poured out, one after another, staining the white paper black with ink, smearing black ink to gray with tears I didn't know I was shedding.
I filled that entire notebook in one sitting. I wrote and wrote, pouring my bitterness onto the pages. I repeated myself a billion times, I'm sure. I never picked it up again after that. My writing was an illegible scrawl, I probably wouldn't be able to read it now if I wanted to. I just -wrote-, telling myself the whole time that I'd feel better afterwards. What bullshit.
When I was done with the notebook, I closed it and stared at it. The once white pages were blemished, scratched on with ink. How fucking ironic, just like -me-. Once white, now tarnished, by uncaring hands, searing touches that made me scream for them to stop and beg for them to continue. I stashed the notebook under my bed and didn't touch it again. Ever. It's still there.. or, it was. It's in my suitcase now.
After that stupid notebook, I did my -best- to impress him. I threw everything I had into everything I did, be it music or lovemaking. Nothing seemed to work. Days drifted by into blurrs, as I once again lost my focus, lost my grip on myself. I became very, very depressed.. and one night, I decided a bottle of pills would be a good solution to my problem.
Unfortunately, after I'd swallowed each and every one and washed them down with a bottle of beer, I'd sat on my bed, staring at the bottle.. and I started to cry. I jumped up and called an ambulance, then curled into a ball on my floor and sobbed. I don't remember much about the whole thing, other than it was something Yuki didn't find out about. He'd been out of town on a business trip.
That was the last straw. After I was released from the hospital, I went home.. no, not home. Just the place I lived. I went there and calmly packed my things, then wrote a note. I don't even remember what I wrote, just something to the effect of "goodbye, have a nice life.. and if you care at all, call my cel phone." I'm still waiting for the call.. and I think I've started to accept it may never come. Every time the phone rings, I jump and answer it, hoping it's him.. and my heart breaks every time it isn't.
I've finally come back to myself with the help of my friends. I realized that impressing him and trying to make him love me was not what I wanted to do. It was -not- me. I stopped being me and started trying to be his model of perfection, and I failed miserably. I never was a good actor.
So, I'll write for myself now.. and I'll sing for myself now. It was for you for so long.. and now I've decided, it's time to give myself a chance.
Yuki, the door is still open. I'll never close it. If you call me.. maybe we can work things out.
I'm willing to change.
Are you?
//I've gotta be honest
I think you know
We're covered in lies, and that's okay
There's somewhere beyond this, I know,
I hope I can find the words to say...
Never again, no, no never again,
'Cause you're a god, and I am not,
And I just thought that you would know...
You're a god, and I am not,
And I just thought I'd let you go...
But I've been unable
To put you down
I'm still learning things I oughtta know by now.
It's under the table, so,
I need something more to show, somehow...
Never again, no, no never again...
'Cause you're a god, and I am not,
And I just thought that you would know
You're a god, and I am not,
And I just thought I'd let you go...
I've gotta be honest
I think you know
We're covered in lies, and that's okay
There's somewhere beyond this, I know,
I hope I can find the words to say...
Never again, no, no never again,
'Cause you're a god, and I am not,
And I just thought that you would know...
You're a god, and I am not,
And I just thought I'd let you go.. 'Cause you're a god, and I am not,
And I just thought that you would know...
You're a god, and I am not,
And I just thought I'd let you go...//
-- Vertical Horizon, "You're A God"
***********
The End
***********
I usually don't write things that are so depressing. This is something I want to tell ALL of you. Don't ever, EVER, let anyone push you around. Don't let yourself do something you don't want to do.. and above all, do what you do for YOU. Not for anyone else.
-- Cheyne
cheyne@everlastingstory.net
http://gluhen.tripod.com/cheyne/index.html
4:16 PM 10/3/2001
This is not me. This is not who I am.
When did this start? Around the time I met him, I guess. I don't even know.. when I stopped being myself and trying to be something else. All for him. Everything I did, everything I said.. it was in hopes of getting a kind word from him. Sometimes it worked, sometimes it didn't. Most of the time, it didn't. After awhile, I ran out of things to say.
Yuki Eiri.. so cool, detached, and so goddamn confident that I'd like to punch that smirk off of his face. Yes, I love him. He does NOT love me. I can't fool myself. I can't be his -toy- anymore. I'm not something he can use, something he can be kind to for awhile, then toss aside when he gets bored. Most of all, I am NOT going to be his -posession-.
He never really treated me like a person. Every time I went to him for comfort, all I got was scorn. When I showed him my new lyrics, all I got were cruel remarks. He'd just laugh at me and go back to his computer, smoking a cigarette and drinking a beer. Calling me 'baka' over and over, never giving me a -chance- to improve.. just judging immediately and going off on that one idea.
After awhile, it became ritual. I was used to it. I started to believe what he said, and I started to suffer. I withdrew from my friends, only saw them when I had to - events for Bad Luck. Most of the time, I locked myself in my room, staring out a window. I thought a lot. It really isn't like me to write my emotions down, but one day, I bought a notebook and took it home. I perched in the windowsill and stared out, and after a few minutes, I started writing. The words poured out, one after another, staining the white paper black with ink, smearing black ink to gray with tears I didn't know I was shedding.
I filled that entire notebook in one sitting. I wrote and wrote, pouring my bitterness onto the pages. I repeated myself a billion times, I'm sure. I never picked it up again after that. My writing was an illegible scrawl, I probably wouldn't be able to read it now if I wanted to. I just -wrote-, telling myself the whole time that I'd feel better afterwards. What bullshit.
When I was done with the notebook, I closed it and stared at it. The once white pages were blemished, scratched on with ink. How fucking ironic, just like -me-. Once white, now tarnished, by uncaring hands, searing touches that made me scream for them to stop and beg for them to continue. I stashed the notebook under my bed and didn't touch it again. Ever. It's still there.. or, it was. It's in my suitcase now.
After that stupid notebook, I did my -best- to impress him. I threw everything I had into everything I did, be it music or lovemaking. Nothing seemed to work. Days drifted by into blurrs, as I once again lost my focus, lost my grip on myself. I became very, very depressed.. and one night, I decided a bottle of pills would be a good solution to my problem.
Unfortunately, after I'd swallowed each and every one and washed them down with a bottle of beer, I'd sat on my bed, staring at the bottle.. and I started to cry. I jumped up and called an ambulance, then curled into a ball on my floor and sobbed. I don't remember much about the whole thing, other than it was something Yuki didn't find out about. He'd been out of town on a business trip.
That was the last straw. After I was released from the hospital, I went home.. no, not home. Just the place I lived. I went there and calmly packed my things, then wrote a note. I don't even remember what I wrote, just something to the effect of "goodbye, have a nice life.. and if you care at all, call my cel phone." I'm still waiting for the call.. and I think I've started to accept it may never come. Every time the phone rings, I jump and answer it, hoping it's him.. and my heart breaks every time it isn't.
I've finally come back to myself with the help of my friends. I realized that impressing him and trying to make him love me was not what I wanted to do. It was -not- me. I stopped being me and started trying to be his model of perfection, and I failed miserably. I never was a good actor.
So, I'll write for myself now.. and I'll sing for myself now. It was for you for so long.. and now I've decided, it's time to give myself a chance.
Yuki, the door is still open. I'll never close it. If you call me.. maybe we can work things out.
I'm willing to change.
Are you?
//I've gotta be honest
I think you know
We're covered in lies, and that's okay
There's somewhere beyond this, I know,
I hope I can find the words to say...
Never again, no, no never again,
'Cause you're a god, and I am not,
And I just thought that you would know...
You're a god, and I am not,
And I just thought I'd let you go...
But I've been unable
To put you down
I'm still learning things I oughtta know by now.
It's under the table, so,
I need something more to show, somehow...
Never again, no, no never again...
'Cause you're a god, and I am not,
And I just thought that you would know
You're a god, and I am not,
And I just thought I'd let you go...
I've gotta be honest
I think you know
We're covered in lies, and that's okay
There's somewhere beyond this, I know,
I hope I can find the words to say...
Never again, no, no never again,
'Cause you're a god, and I am not,
And I just thought that you would know...
You're a god, and I am not,
And I just thought I'd let you go.. 'Cause you're a god, and I am not,
And I just thought that you would know...
You're a god, and I am not,
And I just thought I'd let you go...//
-- Vertical Horizon, "You're A God"
***********
The End
***********
I usually don't write things that are so depressing. This is something I want to tell ALL of you. Don't ever, EVER, let anyone push you around. Don't let yourself do something you don't want to do.. and above all, do what you do for YOU. Not for anyone else.
-- Cheyne
cheyne@everlastingstory.net
http://gluhen.tripod.com/cheyne/index.html
4:16 PM 10/3/2001
