Kesha’s Thinkin of you is what I play when I want to take a baseball bat to his face.
In case you haven’t noticed it, I’m a very angry person. Years of being a punching bag for people have made me into a dark sinister being. I have to qwell it, but i feel it. Since editing books and coming face to face with how truly dark and angry I am, I’m realizing how terrified I am of myself.
Yesterday I raged so hard I put a hole in 3 of my roommates doors.
I screamed my pain since losing Reginald.
There is a bruise that takes up half of my arm because I threw myself into the wall. Screaming at whatever demons that are in my house, to get out.
That is it’s own story.
My mother was the first demon I truly battled.
There was one though, that still to this day has rocked me to my core.
It’s taken 15 years before I could face this.
He’s a lot of the reason I am the way I am, and in some ways I owe him a huge fucking thank you.
I hope you die in a dumpster fire.
I used to believe you should sleep with someone you loved. My dream was to lose my virginity to my dream man, and then fall in love, get married. Maybe kids. Who knows.
I was 17 and an idiot.
Jesus such an idiot.
He was in my senior class in school, and although we never really saw each other, it was his eyes that made me fall in love.
I should have not been a complete fucking artard when he jerked off into a water bottle and they dumped it onto my cousin’s head.
Frasure was my world.
I’ll never forgive him.
But I owe him.
He was the first boy I loved. Ever.
He was everything I ever knew love to be. and JESUS I hate myself to this day.
He was the one who broke my soul. My spirit to who I was.
I didn’t know I could bleed so badly until I busted open 2 of my rommates doors.
Writing this is this most…emotionally painful thing.
I’m crying on Mother’s day. Ironically he just wished me a Happy Mother’s Day.
I told him to die in a dumpster fire.
I have always had problems. I am the dumpster fire of most relationships. I love to hard. I’m so many things, but I love deeply. I love in such a way that nobody could ever love me. Borderline Personality broke me.
My mother is a sever sufferer, but my mommy broke me.
I’m crying as I write this.
Because I was 17 and in love.
I was a lot of things, but I didn’t know who I was.
I believed I should save myself for marriage
When I lost my virginity it was after dating for a few months.
I believed you loved that person.
This is the god damned trash fire of pain that I have ever felt in my life. More than Paul, and a pain I have never felt how bad I could want to die in my life. I have been trying to write this for hours.
Even after he told me to kill myself.
Frasure is the person I owe it to.
Frasure is so many things, but he’s a great dad
I hate him to this day.
When I was 17 I had a dream of being this person.
I was not.
I spent my life having this idea of what love could be. I have never been the same.
I met him our senior year of high school and I was so in love with him.
There was nothing special about him, even to this day when I write about him. Honestly I would have rather been straight punched in the vagina….by a lawn dart.
He was this stoner type, which I didn’t know what they were back in the day. He had this laugh, that god help me haunts my brain until this day. I wish so badly that it didn’t.
I’m blanking on how we met. I think it was so random, but he looked at me with those eyes, and my god 17 year old me screamed in a way that I had never felt in my life.
So before him my ex Sean Ryan, who smoked crack with a homeless guy, who has now passed away which I’m sure is due to all the drug use reaally broke me.
Funny story about myself, I used to believe in love.
I used to believe that you should save yourself for love. I had this fucked up vision how my life would go. I thought that I was supposed to be a type of way, and that being pure in my own way could help me find a love from God that I didn’t know I was lacking.
When you’re 17 you still have this idea in your brain. Writing this has made me so physically ill. I’ve cried, screamed. Put my fist into multiple doors. But I have to pour this out to paper.
Frasure wrecked me life, and defined my existence at the same time.
Mental illness is definitely a hereditary trait, and a learned behavior.
Today I asked my father how to forgive my mother, Mother’s day 2020.
My mother was and still the deepest demon I will ever encounter in my life.
My heart hurts for her because God will never forgiver her, and it isn’t her fault.
My mother is still so angry. To the point she went on my blog to tell me I’m a disappointment to her and God and I need to pray the gay away.
When I met Frasure I thought we would get married. I believed that I had found the love of my life. When we broke up, My senior year of highschool was a dumpster fire.
For people who don’t understand Borderline Personality Disorder I can explain it.
So many things all at once.
I’m always in my head.
I feel so many things at once, and can’t explain why I react the way I do.
I feel everything, especially being an empath. I take every story, every sad dog video, and I feel it on a level that not one sane person could ever feel.
I want to scream my pain at you so you can see it too. Because I hurt.
My mother did a great job as a single mom but my fucking lord was she angry.
My dad left her for my stepmother, which is a Jerry Spriner shitshow in itself, but this isn’t her story.
I met him randomly, and I will never forget him.
My heart still bleeds for him.
I’m over it, but I miss who I was and could’ve been.
Even after I told his wife the truth about what happened, and he told me to kill myself.
Frasure made me into who i am to the core.
Like I said I used to believe sex was something you waited for. That you fell in love, and then somehow it magically is the end all be all. I’ve had at least 15 marriage proposal in my glorious age of 32, and I feel there may be more to come.
As I write this, my throat is burning from the nyquil/vodka combination, but I think I just threw up the hardest I ever have, because I don’t want to face it.
Frasure was the person who defined me, because he made me know I could fall in love.
I was 17, and I was so fucking stupid.
I met him and my heart melted in the way that Allie met Noah in the notebook. I thought he was kind awkward way, but he was it. Holy fuck did I fall deep. I went so far down that rabbit hole. I didn’t know how to love, or what lust was. I fell so deep because he woke me up.
Thinking back now I see that it was that emotional dysregulation that made me a wack job.
For example I am so needy, which has gotten worse over the years. He brought it out of me.
He was what I dreamed my future husband would be. I fell harder than I could ever dream of feeling. He had that smile. Holy fuck that smile. I feel like Hannah Baker in 13 reasons why.
That damned smile.
He had this sheepish grin, and the darkest shaggy hair. But his voice was the most intoxicating thing about him. I can never describe to this day why I fell for him, but I did and I went batshit crazy.
I will never force someone to love me, but I needed him to love me as much as I did him.
I went insane. I called multiple times when he was on vacation.
I’m that person who will call you and tell you I know what you’re hiding and I will find your 2007 tax return to verify what you are hiding. I will also threaten to kill you and burn your house down while you sleep. Because when I love, I go batshit insane.
Frasure is what turned me into me.
I remember my 17th birthday clear to this day.
He gave me crabs.
An actual hermit crab. I tried to set the poor thing on fire because my rage turned me psycho.
I remember sitting on his floor, crying, because he broke up with me and I didn’t understand how it hurt to love so much. I would’ve done anything for him. I would’ve laid my life down if it meant I could see his stupid smile.
Alas like every great love story, they come to an end.
I lost my fucking mind with this boy. It’s not his fault. Even now he is letting me tell him I’m going to kill him, but it’s 17 year old me. It was never him. It was a virgin with severe mental illness that never found the help I needed from Kelly, and nobody would take the time to help me. Mental illness is real, and having Borderline Personality Disorder I love so deep that it can be terrifying.
I admit I am a mixturea of gallon and fire ofpof a but never doubt that I love. I tattooed that on my leg.
Frasure taught me alot of things, but one thing that I am so proud of is that we never had sex.
I believed in my perfect envision of my future could be, and I never gave in. Granted he nicknamed me Vacuum Cleaner in high school because…well that is a secret between me and the movie theater that showed “Without a Paddle”. One of my favorite movies, and he held my hand through the movie.
When you’re young you think love is beautiful. Love is pain.
I remember to this day that moment when I had my first real heartache. It was Labor Day, and I was at my grandmother for her annual picnic when she was alive.
Back then I never dreamed how badly I craved love. Still talk about my severe mommy issues, and I think I felt that in him. Because I still remember when he called me on his vacation.
He had previously told me he watched Open Water, and it changed how he saw the world.
We would get married, we could have babies, and I’ve never cried as much as I did that night.
I still believe he was the one who killed my soul. I tried dating after him, and I convinced myself that I loved my ex boyfriend Jacob, but I never really did. I lost my virginity to him to “The Princess Bride”, and he loved Savage Garden. I don’t want to talk about it.
I never have fully recovered from him and the fact he broke up with me over the phone.
I was dealing with the horrificthorrific train wreck that ismis mother’s side of the family, when I recievedareceived call.
“Hey so I have to talk to you”
I don’t remember exactly how it went, but I will never forget how much pain I felt because I didn’t realize how deep I love. It involves him telling me how he had cheated on me with one of my friends while he was drunk. She confirmed later he was sober because he wanted to drive her car. Nobody drunk would drive her car.
Whatever the case was I searched a camper looking for a plastic knife to cut myself with and my mom screaming at me because I wouldn’t play Bocce ball with her. My cousin and I hate eachother. He threatened to kill him because his little cousin was crying.
Thank you Frasure.
You ruined me senior year of high school. I remember wanting to die as I huffed markers because I needed you to love me, and the thing is it was me. I did a lot of things, but the worst thing I have ever done in my life was love you.
Yet, here I am.
Can I catch ya later, cuz it’s my jam….
I owe you so much because you set me on my own course of adventure to now putting this in my 4th book.