I am incredibly notorious for ridiculously long posts because I don't really blog often but I quite often go off on tangents. Actually tangents? All the time. Conversations, thoughts, writing, whatever. Here a tangent, there a tangent, everywhere a tangent, tangent. And since I am almost positive no one actually reads this blog any more I can feel free to say whatever I please in any tangent saturated way I deem fit. I just felt the need to pour out my thoughts and feelings in a way that might possibly be seen by someone but most likely won't. Like a journal but unlike a diary... I guess. It makes sense in my head anyway.

So now to splay my innards for the world of you.... whoever you maybe who is reading this. Which might possibly be myself months from now when I feel like popping onto this site again. This just makes me think that maybe they shouldn't let every Tom, Dick and Harry who wants to play on their keyboard have easy access to a blog. But I digress.

The reason for this particular piece of digitalized script is mainly about the past. I'm currently in my room at dad's and i like to rummage through my drawers of stuff that I have kept over the years. Junk drawers, you may call them, and I have a few. My collective habits have me worried that I'm a seedling hoarder. But then I just throw that thought away. Clever? Witty? No? Then we're in agreement, now let's move on. I found this little booklet in said drawer and thought to myself .... I'm stupid and why would I have ever have thought this was a good idea. It was a beginner's scrapbook so to say, that I had planned, I guess, on making into a "How I Met Your Father" kind of book. 'Cept after looking through the stuff that I had kept I just felt foolish and nostalgic and more foolish and stupid. One thing led to another and I am now convinced that I have screwed up on every level when it comes to pretty much everything in my life it seems. I also saw my insecurities spitting in my face.

This booklet contains pictures: My high school crush, one Jacob Parker with his unbelievably gorgeous blue eyes. My first technical boyfriend, Joe the body builder... And no, I'm not lying about the body builder thing to make myself look cool or something to that effect. My first real boyfriend, Matt. And then my musical ex, Gabe. I also have cards that came with roses, movie ticket stubs, Christmas cards and just because cards with little notes to remind me what they said they thought of me then. I also have bracelets given to me as presents hanging out on the binder like rings of yond scrapbook. I have heart stickers and cutouts. All the makings of a great scrapbook except the great idea part. I have no idea what I was thinking. I guess when I was putting together the idea and the book, I never thought that I would look back and just be racked with the ache that each item and picture carried with it either from regret, anger, hate, bitterness, or remorse. If any of my exs are reading this, I wouldn't pin any of those words on yourself. I am probably not feeling the way you think I am feeling about how things went. Needless to say, though, that my most recent ex and a few so and so's will not be making the cut to this menagerie of teenage stupid. I really just need to throw that stuff away and relieve myself of the stuffed animals or other boyfriend to girlfriend gifts that I have laying around.

I just hate how I let myself get into some of the situations. I honestly regret getting into a couple of the relationships I found myself in because I knew before they even started that I didn't want to be in them. Actually, that's the case with almost all of my relationships. I was stupid for getting into them for one, and ending them the way I did. I am actually a very perceptive person, but I think I'm also a little too sensitive sometimes, too. I never wanted to hurt anyone. Before I ever started dating, I actually readied myself to be the dumpee in all my relationships rather than the dumper.

There are only two guys that I have found myself in the situation of mutual like with and I really regret how things went. I'm really sorry that I am scared and insecure in the areas that I am because I'm positive that if I were even a fraction better in those areas then things would've gone a lot differently. And I know that I hurt them because of my own craziness and I would give anything to change how that went. But I can't. I guess my consolation is to see both of them happily moving on and letting myself imagine that they look back and wonder what it ever was that made them like me.... at all.

I know I'm a downer and I'm really harsh on myself blahdy, blahdy, blah. But the truth is is that I'm not happy with where my life is at at all. I'm not happy with the circumstances I've created for myself because I was scared, mean, spiteful, bitter, selfish, and whatever adjective you feel like throwing in there. I hate the way I've treated people, like my exs and my mom and my brother and my friends. I'm also terribly unhappy with the things in my life that seem like they were out of my control but that little creeper is stuck in the back of my head telling me that I did have something to do with it. I can't remember the last time that I actually liked myself. And it's not because I'm just being depressing, it's because I look back on my life and I was mean. I remember being mean but not thinking it was mean.

So this is my journal entry on how I don't know how I have any friends at all, on how I wish I could change the past. On how I don't know.... what else to say. I have trust issues, truth issues, self esteem issues, and crazy issues. I think I'm honestly crazy, not clinically or anything like that but I just think that it's going to take a strong, strong man to handle my crazy.

Well... I guess... thanks for reading if you were reading this... and managed to make it to the end of my rant.