Status: working on the remaing chapters for this contest~
Dear Diary
Two.
Today is Saturday, January 18th 2011 and it is currently 10:37 at night.
Feeling: Lonely, scared, and worried.
Currently listening to: All My Heart by Sleeping With Sirens
Currently eating/drinking: Drinking a ice cold Dr. Pepper
Diary, I am even worried then I was this morning. It’s like this mornings worried couldn’t even put a dent into right now’s worried. Like, I don’t think I’ve ever been so worried. I’m pacing back and forth, I’m fiddling my fingers. I’m chain smoking more than ever. I still haven’t even been to sleep. I have bags under my eyes so bad, and I know for damn sure that those don’t look anywhere near good on me. I look fucking disgusting right now. I haven’t even showered. I’ve just been waiting…
Waiting on what you ask? Waiting on Brayden. I haven’t heard from him. Not a single damn thing. The only damn things I’ve done all day is sit on my bed because I don’t really feel like socializing with my family at this moment, I’m too dishearted to even try to pretend to be happy around them. I’ve gone to the bathroom to sit on the toilet to see if I even have to pee or poop, which I usually don’t I just feel like if I walk away from my cellphone then Brayden would text or call me. I’ve gone outside to sit on the porch to smoke a cigarette like at least every thirty minutes. I’ve gone through at least almost two packs of cigarettes today, and that’s a lot for me. But basically, the only thing I’ve done all day is sit and stare at my fucking phone waiting for my boyfriend to contact me in any way possible letting me know that he’s alive.
I can’t help but to keep thinking that everything that could go wrong is going wrong. What if they gave him too much medication to put him to sleep and he started to overdose? What if while they were taking the cancer parts out, and they accidentally took out something that they weren’t supposed to? But even worse, what if everything that anyone could ever imagine went wrong and he’s dead?
What if everything I’ve been thinking is going to come true? Will I honestly never be able to slip my arms under his and pull him in close to me? Can I never attack his face with a thousand kisses whenever he’s being sweet and making me all warm and fuzzy on the inside? Can I never get my face raped again by his lips whenever I tell him to make me shut up? Will I never get to see him get down on one knee, grab my hand, and ask my hand in marriage? Will my dreams of living together with the love of my life, doing everything we can find to do, having kids and growing old together never happen?
I really shouldn’t be thinking bad about this. ‘Cause have you ever heard of the saying that if you think so much of a certain thing it’s going to end up happening? Yeah, I believe that could happen and all of my dismal thoughts might just make that happen. Then it would be all of my fault and I would be the one to blame for thinking such horrid thoughts about what is going to happen.
But I just can’t help it! I’m dying here in suspense. I need to know if he’s okay. I need to know if he’s alive. I need to know if I’ll ever be able to get kissed in the rain again by the only one who can make me happier than I’ve ever been in my whole life. I need to know, before I fucking explode of going insane.
It isn’t fucking far though, to be honest. I’ve been awake, waiting for him to give me some kind of existence and you know what I get? That’s right. I get absolutely fucking nothing. I want to know why he felt like shit this morning, and if he was okay. I want to know if he was confident he was going to make it through the surgery.
Damnit, I should’ve fucking stayed awake instead of letting my dumb ass fall asleep. I’m so fucking stupid. I should feel ashamed of myself. In fact, I do. I’m ashamed of myself. I’m not happy with myself.
I wanna turn back time and make it where I was awake to talk to him before he went under the knife, and make it to where he knew I loved him before he left so he didn’t have any bad thoughts. I really wanted to make sure that he was happy before he went..
Whatever. This is stupid. I need to shit, shower, eat, and sleep. Fuck it.
Until the next time I feel the need to bother a book with my nonsense,
Marie Lynda Welding
Feeling: Lonely, scared, and worried.
Currently listening to: All My Heart by Sleeping With Sirens
Currently eating/drinking: Drinking a ice cold Dr. Pepper
Diary, I am even worried then I was this morning. It’s like this mornings worried couldn’t even put a dent into right now’s worried. Like, I don’t think I’ve ever been so worried. I’m pacing back and forth, I’m fiddling my fingers. I’m chain smoking more than ever. I still haven’t even been to sleep. I have bags under my eyes so bad, and I know for damn sure that those don’t look anywhere near good on me. I look fucking disgusting right now. I haven’t even showered. I’ve just been waiting…
Waiting on what you ask? Waiting on Brayden. I haven’t heard from him. Not a single damn thing. The only damn things I’ve done all day is sit on my bed because I don’t really feel like socializing with my family at this moment, I’m too dishearted to even try to pretend to be happy around them. I’ve gone to the bathroom to sit on the toilet to see if I even have to pee or poop, which I usually don’t I just feel like if I walk away from my cellphone then Brayden would text or call me. I’ve gone outside to sit on the porch to smoke a cigarette like at least every thirty minutes. I’ve gone through at least almost two packs of cigarettes today, and that’s a lot for me. But basically, the only thing I’ve done all day is sit and stare at my fucking phone waiting for my boyfriend to contact me in any way possible letting me know that he’s alive.
I can’t help but to keep thinking that everything that could go wrong is going wrong. What if they gave him too much medication to put him to sleep and he started to overdose? What if while they were taking the cancer parts out, and they accidentally took out something that they weren’t supposed to? But even worse, what if everything that anyone could ever imagine went wrong and he’s dead?
What if everything I’ve been thinking is going to come true? Will I honestly never be able to slip my arms under his and pull him in close to me? Can I never attack his face with a thousand kisses whenever he’s being sweet and making me all warm and fuzzy on the inside? Can I never get my face raped again by his lips whenever I tell him to make me shut up? Will I never get to see him get down on one knee, grab my hand, and ask my hand in marriage? Will my dreams of living together with the love of my life, doing everything we can find to do, having kids and growing old together never happen?
I really shouldn’t be thinking bad about this. ‘Cause have you ever heard of the saying that if you think so much of a certain thing it’s going to end up happening? Yeah, I believe that could happen and all of my dismal thoughts might just make that happen. Then it would be all of my fault and I would be the one to blame for thinking such horrid thoughts about what is going to happen.
But I just can’t help it! I’m dying here in suspense. I need to know if he’s okay. I need to know if he’s alive. I need to know if I’ll ever be able to get kissed in the rain again by the only one who can make me happier than I’ve ever been in my whole life. I need to know, before I fucking explode of going insane.
It isn’t fucking far though, to be honest. I’ve been awake, waiting for him to give me some kind of existence and you know what I get? That’s right. I get absolutely fucking nothing. I want to know why he felt like shit this morning, and if he was okay. I want to know if he was confident he was going to make it through the surgery.
Damnit, I should’ve fucking stayed awake instead of letting my dumb ass fall asleep. I’m so fucking stupid. I should feel ashamed of myself. In fact, I do. I’m ashamed of myself. I’m not happy with myself.
I wanna turn back time and make it where I was awake to talk to him before he went under the knife, and make it to where he knew I loved him before he left so he didn’t have any bad thoughts. I really wanted to make sure that he was happy before he went..
Whatever. This is stupid. I need to shit, shower, eat, and sleep. Fuck it.
Until the next time I feel the need to bother a book with my nonsense,
Marie Lynda Welding
♠ ♠ ♠
Woo! Second chapter in the same hour!Sorry this one isn't as long as the last one. It'll get better though!
I'll finish in the next day, or later if I get bored enough.
Comments are love.
<3