Status: NaNoWriMo - 21,112 words.
Exits and Entrances
cady grisham.
It had begun to snow, leaving me curled beneath a heavy blanket by the fire with a good book, and thoughts of who I should be snuggling with and who I wasn’t. It always came back to you, Tommy, and I really could understand why. Why were you plaguing me with thoughts of how you were?
I will never understand your fucking intentions.
I go through phases with you, Tommy. One minute, I’m madly in love and I miss you and I wish you were by my side, and the next I want to kill you for how much you hurt me, and then in the next I’m caught up in memories of what some might refer to as my prime.
And right now, I fucking hate you. I hate what you’ve done to me and I hate that I’m still letting you control me like I’m some play thing to you. Tommy, get with the freaking program. I’m not your toy and I sure as hell am not your best friend or your life in any sense of the word.
But the most pathetic thing of it all? I want to be all those things. I wanted to your best friend and I wanted to be your life. Maybe not be your entire life, but I just wanted to be a part of it.
I knew too, that you were the kind of guy who would never tell me any of this, if I was. That’s another reason I’m so angry all the time. I never know where I stand with you, I never know if you hate me or if you can stand me or what you’re thinking because you don’t have the balls to tell me and that drives me absolutely insane. I want to be a part of your world, and if I can’t do that, than please tell me why I’m still trying, Tommy. Why am I still trying if there’s nothing left to try for?
Sometimes I remember our first real fight, the fight about the party. You were going down to Maine to visit your aunt, and I was going to go to Shelby’s party. Of course, you knew Shelby was a slut and her parties were sex mania. And you didn’t want me to go. We fought and fought, and even though you told me not to, I went. I didn’t cheat, didn’t touch another guy, hell I didn’t even get drunk.
And I was pissed that you told me what to do. I remember thinking that you didn’t control me, that I was my own person and I could do whatever I wanted because this was my life and you weren’t allowed the call the shots for me.
And yet, to this day, in some way, shape, form, you are still calling all the shots.
I will never understand your fucking intentions.
I go through phases with you, Tommy. One minute, I’m madly in love and I miss you and I wish you were by my side, and the next I want to kill you for how much you hurt me, and then in the next I’m caught up in memories of what some might refer to as my prime.
And right now, I fucking hate you. I hate what you’ve done to me and I hate that I’m still letting you control me like I’m some play thing to you. Tommy, get with the freaking program. I’m not your toy and I sure as hell am not your best friend or your life in any sense of the word.
But the most pathetic thing of it all? I want to be all those things. I wanted to your best friend and I wanted to be your life. Maybe not be your entire life, but I just wanted to be a part of it.
I knew too, that you were the kind of guy who would never tell me any of this, if I was. That’s another reason I’m so angry all the time. I never know where I stand with you, I never know if you hate me or if you can stand me or what you’re thinking because you don’t have the balls to tell me and that drives me absolutely insane. I want to be a part of your world, and if I can’t do that, than please tell me why I’m still trying, Tommy. Why am I still trying if there’s nothing left to try for?
Sometimes I remember our first real fight, the fight about the party. You were going down to Maine to visit your aunt, and I was going to go to Shelby’s party. Of course, you knew Shelby was a slut and her parties were sex mania. And you didn’t want me to go. We fought and fought, and even though you told me not to, I went. I didn’t cheat, didn’t touch another guy, hell I didn’t even get drunk.
And I was pissed that you told me what to do. I remember thinking that you didn’t control me, that I was my own person and I could do whatever I wanted because this was my life and you weren’t allowed the call the shots for me.
And yet, to this day, in some way, shape, form, you are still calling all the shots.