Song Inspiration: I'm not your boyfriend baby - 3OH!3 (LOL)

Anger riled deep within my bones, I felt the shake worsen as I drove farther and farther into the woods, when did I start shaking? Was I epileptic?

I felt my eye twitch, a response to the pressure inflicted on my mind, I was thinking way more complex than usual.

For the most part, I'm a pretty laid-back type of guy – nothing ever really gets me pissed. But now, I felt it, I tried to underestimate my fury, but instead whenever I attempted to calm down, I could feel it's power jolting through me, shocking my nerves. A rush of ice-cold hate flew through me in after affect, the feeling was excruciating, getting stronger as the cycle continued

I gasped a little whenever I experienced an anxiety attack. My pulse raced with my heartbeat, and soon I became worried...was I suffering from a heart palpitation? Did I need to see a doctor?

My eyes scanned through the trees in an effort to get my mind off of my anger, I almost leapt in joy when I caught sight of my favorite river, I jumped out my pick-up and made my way to the still waters, only to disrupt it with my dangling feet.

I liked the coolness against my fevered skin, the tranquility that projected onto me, relaxing me effectively.

Nature had a way of doing things for me, and the rainy smell La Push was known for, had a way of enriching me, the moisture fell into my skin, making it feel loser, elasticity overcame me as I inhaled and exhaled, I felt like a jelly fish.

The head rush I felt in the car was almost over, I broke into my meditating pose. Call me lame, but Yoga was an interesting hobby of mine. I especially loved Savasana, and since I was in an infuriating mood, I decided a nice thirty-minute nap in the middle of the forest was suddenly not as bad as it sounded.

I bunched my hands to my side, lying in a fetal position, I attempted to close my eyes. I couldn't see but that made my other senses stronger, I heard my thoughts. My mind overplayed the same words that Sam used "please, get out before you're screwed". It left a ringing effect.

I felt weak. I felt pathetic, lying in the dirt rocking on my side. I couldn't concentrate on relaxing so I ultimately rose from my position, flared my nostrils and began driving.

The throbbing ache from the base of neck pulled me into another direction, I felt as though something was nudging me to go deeper into the trees, I ignored my gut feeling and went with my mind. Even though I had no where to go, I disregarded my strange body functions and drove into La Push.

I had no home. I had no family. I had no one to trust anymore. Where was I to go? A motel in Port Angeles seemed likely, but a distant voice reminded me that this was my city. And that house Sam was living in was mine too, he couldn't just kick me out. Legally, that is.

Washington State was not an option, of course I didn't tell anyone that I got kicked out for the summer. I was banned from taking summer courses. I mean, it's not my fault my teacher's house got TP'd. Or egged. Or had a burning bag of dog shit just waiting on his front porch. How was I supposed to know that the fire would spread? I mean, come on, I'm a freakin' English major. Anyways, I might have been a little drunk that night, but my professor was a total douche...he deserved it. I didn't regret anything.

My buddies (who might have also been involved in that little mishap) were going on some stupid party tour throughout June. I was invited, but I declined. I mean, I like to party and grind up on some girls as much as the next guy, but jeez, there's a limit. Besides, I wasn't interested in one-night stands, despite the many I happen to encounter, I detested them. I like sex, I mean, who doesn't? And when a slightly attractive female invited me for a little fun, who am I to refuse? I'm just giving what the lady wants. A true gentleman.

Sometimes, I'd like to cuddle after crazy sex, but the girl would never be interested, she'd shut me out, and that's when I realized that I was just a tool used for their pleasure. I felt like crap.

I stopped partying everyday like I used to, I drank less. It was nice not having a hangover the next day. Sometimes people didn't understand why I did so. I just hated being used. I wanted to be important in someone's life.

Not just some sex toy.

Why don't people realize this? I mean, call me old fashioned, but I wanted to settle down. I want a wife who'll love me for who I am...maybe going off to college exposed me to those fast-paced girls. I should've stayed in La Push. The love of my life should be somewhere home.

I gritted my teeth while my Chevy took on the rough terrain like it was nothing. God, I love this car. It was a gift from my mother...who wasn't here anymore.

My heart joined in the mingle of organs that were in pain. My hands slammed the steering wheel, the throbbing ache didn't hurt as much as I thought it would.

But the memory did

I shouldn't have even came. I should have went to that party thing. I should have never thrown that egg right in Mr. MacDonald's face...well, maybe not.

My mother would accept me, but she left before I could even say goodbye.

I can't believe Sam would do this to me! I mean, just six months after our mothers death, and he was already rejecting family? I didn't even stay that much for the funeral. Too many memories. I stood there silently, and unnoticed. Not even recognizing any of the faces. I left after the burial, not willing to stay any longer.

My mother had died from liver problems, probably from her alcohol consumption. I was confused when the doctor told me about it...my mother never used to drink. I guess she started the habit up when my brother grew into this huge maniac. She entered rehabilitation, and from then on it was all down hill. I don't even want to think about it.

I had lost two moms before I turned twenty years old. That does a lot to a man.

Because of my mother's passing, I began to drink too. Despite the contradiction, I got drunk every night again. And the anger I held inside exploded when my professor MacDonald gave me an F on an extremely well-thought thesis paper. I bursted and took revenge.

So now I'm here, driving my much abused car to my homeland after a huge confrontation with my stupid engaged baby-brother.

What was I supposed to do now?