Belle: I'm glad you think my story is good. I think we all feel Miranda's
pain, we've all gone through something similar, unless, you know, someone
here is freakishly lucky.
Mrs. Wood-Felton: I didn't really mean for Gordo to be cruel, just more,
honest to a fault. Thanks for reviewing!
Starcraze: I'm glad you liked the chapter. I just thought Gordos line about
"being in love with misery" would be sort of ironic.
Baby Angel AKA LaLa: OMG I don't think we should be complaining about the
movie anymore..DID YOU KNOW THEY'RE CANCELING LIZZIE MCGUIRE!! I literally
screamed. First Mirandas gone and then.Oh well, maybe we'll get a spin-off
or something.
Love fool: Thanks for reviewing. Gordo is being heartless, isn't he?
Funky pink high top: Ahhh. my favorite fanfiction person. It's been so fun
talking with you on aim and getting your opinions on stuff! Sorry I haven't
updated in a while.
Nahima Tala: Yes, he actually said that. Mean, isn't it? I'm glad you like
it angsty, that's how I love to write it!
Vanessa the Magnificent: Thanks for reviewing! I'm glad you don't think my
story is ordinary. In the words if Angela Hays from American Beauty "there
is nothing worse in life than being ordinary."
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You want to know something that really confuses me? I mean honestly, no matter how many years of pondering I endure, will be able to contemplate? The fact that I see color the same. Taste food the same. Hear music the same way. It doesn't make me a little bit angrier or a little bit sadder, it's exactly the same. The difference is inside of me, not in the outside world. The way I feel is different, not the way the world is. For some reason I expected everything in the physical world to suddenly turn upside down or something, but now I realize that was a selfish expectation, as if my life somehow affects the laws of physics.
What is different though, is that this feeling of anger and misery growing inside of me has just had a growth spurt, and is worse than ever before. I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror that hangs just above my dresser and feel nothing but hatred for the face staring back at me. It suddenly looks inferior and trivial, it's very hard to describe. Like somewhere out there someone is laughing at me, thinking "how could she ever think someone could be in love with her?" And then laughing hysterically as if it were the most obscured concept ever thought up.
And it was. How could anyone ever love me? Gordo had summed it up perfectly, "being in love with you would be like being in love with misery." So true, so true. Theres nothing special about me, I possess no unique qualities. I'm just simply living my life, trying to get it over with.
God, I need to stop thinking. Thinking is bad, it gets me nothing but depressed. Sometimes I wonder if I should just learn to love being depressed, I seem to be it so much might as well learn to live with it.
I turn on the TV and watch reruns of Friends for endless hours of the night, but everything seems surreal, like I'm watching everything through a glass cage and nothing can quite touch me, I'm separated from everything and not a part of it.
Eventually I notice tears streaming down my face, at exactly what I'm not sure. I think its just the whole concept of my life, my uninvolved father, my Carol Brady wannabe mother who really didn't give a shit whether I lived or died as long as I didn't get blood on the carpet in the process, Lizzie and how everything about her and her stupid little life is so perfect and yet she has no damned appreciation for it whatsoever and my interminable jealousy over it.
And then there was Gordo. He seemed the most surreal of all. It truly is hard to believe even God has the power to put someone like him on earth, he's so perfect, he makes all the other guys a blur and he's the only thing I can see clearly anymore.
I'm sobbing now, uncontrollably. It's like sobbing numbs the pain but not enough to make me stop. I see the alarm clock on my bedside table, the very same alarm clock that waked me up every morning so that I can go live out this hell. Suddenly I am very angry at it, as if it's this inanimate objects fault I'm living like this. I pick it up and chuck it against the wall with all my force, and its like this tension built up that was only released when I threw it.
Suddenly everything's quite, and the clocks still ticking. But I don't care this time. It doesn't matter.
Suddenly theres a knock at my door. I don't answer it, I've suddenly become to physically exhausted to move.
Whoever it is knocks again. They aren't going to leave without a fight. "Come in." I manage to spit out, I know that if I talk I'm going to start crying again.
My mother opens the door, with tears in her eyes. I'm confused about what she's upset over, I hadn't heard an argument going on downstairs or anything.
Suddenly I start sobbing again, right in front of my mother I haven't had anything that resembled a relationship with in years as if she were my best friend. She sits down on my bed and hugs me tightly and I bury myself in her chest. She's crying to, but softly. I finally build up the nerve to ask her why.
"What..What." I stop, I can't breathe from the crying and it takes me a second to catch my breathe. "Are you crying about?"
"Mija, I miss you! I hear you up hear in your room crying and I have no idea why." She's crying harder now, but she's still no match for me. "You don't tell me anything anymore. You are always in your room, and only Lord knows what you're doing up hear. You hate me, and I don't know why. It's like you've created your own little world and you just won't let me be a part of it, no matter how badly I want to."
She said the last words quietly, like she was confessing a secret that had been bottled up inside her for years. In a way, I think she felt that she was. She didn't want to admit that she wanted to be a part of my world, because it would be like admitting she wasn't. But suddenly, I wanted her to be a part of my world. It's like I had her personality totally wrong, she did care about me and not just whether other people thought she did or not, she did think about me and not in the way you think about a leaky facet you have to fix when you get home from work. I wanted to tell her about Gordo and Lizzie and what had happened that night, and as I looked at her, mascara running down her cheeks in black streaks, I could tell she really wanted to know. I wanted her to know; I wanted to have the kind of deep, serious discussions with her I had only had with Kate; back before.she changed. But I couldn't tell her for some reason, I just couldn't grant her wish.
"Mom, I don't hate you." It was a true-lie. I didn't hate her right now, but I used to. I realized I had hated her recently. I didn't want to talk to her and I didn't want her to be a part of my world and I didn't want to be connected to her. But now I did, and I was going to pretend like that's all that mattered.
"Oh, Mija." She hugged me tighter before finally letting go. She stood up to leave the room, but she turned back to me right before she was about to step out of the room. "I love you, you always knew that, right?"
I decided to tell the truth this time. "No, I didn't always know that. But I do now."
I couldn't judge by the look on her face whether this was good or bad news, so all she did was leave and shut the door behind her.
As I found myself alone once again, surrounded by deafening silence, everything that just happened seemed surreal. Like I can't quite convince myself that it was real. Suddenly I got the urge to do something strange.
I stood up and walked over to the corner of my room where why wooden jewelry box was, the one I never open and just sits collecting dust. I opened the top to reveal an assortment of colors and shapes I hadn't seen for years, but I didn't have time to sort through it. I was looking for something inparticular.
Suddenly my eyes found it. It was a ring, silver with a fake diamond on it. It was a friendship ring I bought with Kate in the third grade, she had one exactly like it. Kate was my best friend up until sixth grade, when she dramatically changed for the worse. Kate, Lizzie, and I had all been a group of friends, but Kate and me had always been closer than either of us was to Lizzie, but we never let her know that. As I stare at the ring, I remember about how she was the only person I ever felt I could truly trust, and in a way, she still was. The old Kate was, the old Kate is still the best friend I'd ever had, and no one could match up to it.
I put the ring on the table, not bothering to put it back in the box, and with conflicting emotions of peace and stress, crawl under my sheets and go to sleep.
You want to know something that really confuses me? I mean honestly, no matter how many years of pondering I endure, will be able to contemplate? The fact that I see color the same. Taste food the same. Hear music the same way. It doesn't make me a little bit angrier or a little bit sadder, it's exactly the same. The difference is inside of me, not in the outside world. The way I feel is different, not the way the world is. For some reason I expected everything in the physical world to suddenly turn upside down or something, but now I realize that was a selfish expectation, as if my life somehow affects the laws of physics.
What is different though, is that this feeling of anger and misery growing inside of me has just had a growth spurt, and is worse than ever before. I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror that hangs just above my dresser and feel nothing but hatred for the face staring back at me. It suddenly looks inferior and trivial, it's very hard to describe. Like somewhere out there someone is laughing at me, thinking "how could she ever think someone could be in love with her?" And then laughing hysterically as if it were the most obscured concept ever thought up.
And it was. How could anyone ever love me? Gordo had summed it up perfectly, "being in love with you would be like being in love with misery." So true, so true. Theres nothing special about me, I possess no unique qualities. I'm just simply living my life, trying to get it over with.
God, I need to stop thinking. Thinking is bad, it gets me nothing but depressed. Sometimes I wonder if I should just learn to love being depressed, I seem to be it so much might as well learn to live with it.
I turn on the TV and watch reruns of Friends for endless hours of the night, but everything seems surreal, like I'm watching everything through a glass cage and nothing can quite touch me, I'm separated from everything and not a part of it.
Eventually I notice tears streaming down my face, at exactly what I'm not sure. I think its just the whole concept of my life, my uninvolved father, my Carol Brady wannabe mother who really didn't give a shit whether I lived or died as long as I didn't get blood on the carpet in the process, Lizzie and how everything about her and her stupid little life is so perfect and yet she has no damned appreciation for it whatsoever and my interminable jealousy over it.
And then there was Gordo. He seemed the most surreal of all. It truly is hard to believe even God has the power to put someone like him on earth, he's so perfect, he makes all the other guys a blur and he's the only thing I can see clearly anymore.
I'm sobbing now, uncontrollably. It's like sobbing numbs the pain but not enough to make me stop. I see the alarm clock on my bedside table, the very same alarm clock that waked me up every morning so that I can go live out this hell. Suddenly I am very angry at it, as if it's this inanimate objects fault I'm living like this. I pick it up and chuck it against the wall with all my force, and its like this tension built up that was only released when I threw it.
Suddenly everything's quite, and the clocks still ticking. But I don't care this time. It doesn't matter.
Suddenly theres a knock at my door. I don't answer it, I've suddenly become to physically exhausted to move.
Whoever it is knocks again. They aren't going to leave without a fight. "Come in." I manage to spit out, I know that if I talk I'm going to start crying again.
My mother opens the door, with tears in her eyes. I'm confused about what she's upset over, I hadn't heard an argument going on downstairs or anything.
Suddenly I start sobbing again, right in front of my mother I haven't had anything that resembled a relationship with in years as if she were my best friend. She sits down on my bed and hugs me tightly and I bury myself in her chest. She's crying to, but softly. I finally build up the nerve to ask her why.
"What..What." I stop, I can't breathe from the crying and it takes me a second to catch my breathe. "Are you crying about?"
"Mija, I miss you! I hear you up hear in your room crying and I have no idea why." She's crying harder now, but she's still no match for me. "You don't tell me anything anymore. You are always in your room, and only Lord knows what you're doing up hear. You hate me, and I don't know why. It's like you've created your own little world and you just won't let me be a part of it, no matter how badly I want to."
She said the last words quietly, like she was confessing a secret that had been bottled up inside her for years. In a way, I think she felt that she was. She didn't want to admit that she wanted to be a part of my world, because it would be like admitting she wasn't. But suddenly, I wanted her to be a part of my world. It's like I had her personality totally wrong, she did care about me and not just whether other people thought she did or not, she did think about me and not in the way you think about a leaky facet you have to fix when you get home from work. I wanted to tell her about Gordo and Lizzie and what had happened that night, and as I looked at her, mascara running down her cheeks in black streaks, I could tell she really wanted to know. I wanted her to know; I wanted to have the kind of deep, serious discussions with her I had only had with Kate; back before.she changed. But I couldn't tell her for some reason, I just couldn't grant her wish.
"Mom, I don't hate you." It was a true-lie. I didn't hate her right now, but I used to. I realized I had hated her recently. I didn't want to talk to her and I didn't want her to be a part of my world and I didn't want to be connected to her. But now I did, and I was going to pretend like that's all that mattered.
"Oh, Mija." She hugged me tighter before finally letting go. She stood up to leave the room, but she turned back to me right before she was about to step out of the room. "I love you, you always knew that, right?"
I decided to tell the truth this time. "No, I didn't always know that. But I do now."
I couldn't judge by the look on her face whether this was good or bad news, so all she did was leave and shut the door behind her.
As I found myself alone once again, surrounded by deafening silence, everything that just happened seemed surreal. Like I can't quite convince myself that it was real. Suddenly I got the urge to do something strange.
I stood up and walked over to the corner of my room where why wooden jewelry box was, the one I never open and just sits collecting dust. I opened the top to reveal an assortment of colors and shapes I hadn't seen for years, but I didn't have time to sort through it. I was looking for something inparticular.
Suddenly my eyes found it. It was a ring, silver with a fake diamond on it. It was a friendship ring I bought with Kate in the third grade, she had one exactly like it. Kate was my best friend up until sixth grade, when she dramatically changed for the worse. Kate, Lizzie, and I had all been a group of friends, but Kate and me had always been closer than either of us was to Lizzie, but we never let her know that. As I stare at the ring, I remember about how she was the only person I ever felt I could truly trust, and in a way, she still was. The old Kate was, the old Kate is still the best friend I'd ever had, and no one could match up to it.
I put the ring on the table, not bothering to put it back in the box, and with conflicting emotions of peace and stress, crawl under my sheets and go to sleep.
