Status: a continual Work in progress
The Real Story
The Schedule
May 24, 2013 11:32 am (EST)
24 hours until the special 4-day weekend. You’d think I’d be in school right? Not with a secret relationship with a guy that is 16 years away and lives another 7.
I know you’re thinking it doesn't take that long but realistically that’s how it feels.
You’d guess that I can’t wait to see him, he’s so “dreamy”, “dark”, “mysterious”, etc. but no, I’m not really excited. It’ll go the same way it does whenever I fly to L.A.:
• Arrive at L.A.X.
• Go through customs
• Check in and grab my bags
• Walk out the front door
• Stand in the parking lot to look for his car
• Get into a vehicle and get lectured…
No “Hello’s”, no “I’ve missed you’s”, no kisses, not even a hug. According to the famous Fall out Boy bassist: “Meagan is the love of my life”, not me. I always only get:
“Hey babe, you finally made it. By the way you’re making me really late, again.”
So, no, I’m not excited. The best part of my “mini vaca” is the flight and that’s only because I feel like I’m jumping through time. I go back and forth through time zones like I’m in a time machine oscillating, forwards and back.
May 25, 2013 12:45 pm (PST)
I’m out alone in Studio City, again. Yep, as you’ve figured by now: No togetherness outside of the sanctioned and private walls of his Beverly Hills home.
Oh well, I prefer shopping alone, especially for birthday gifts. Today is my little sister’s birthday… 16 years old today.
Same age I was when He and I began this hidden romance…
I swear I can't get over how I believed he has “loved” me for these grueling two years.
He picked me up without anyone picking it up on their scandal radar. We sat in silence for the entire car ride “home”. This was the routine. But today I got fucking sick of it.
“What are we doing?!”
He gave me a puzzled look but dutifully answered:
“We’re driving home, babe…”
I cut him off quickly feeling all of the shit I usually bottle up begin to boil over, ready to explode.
“No, what are we doing?! What is this? I fly out during every vacation I get from school only to never get a word out of you and to be fucked and sent on my merry way back home without so little as a ‘goodbye’ or an ‘I love you’!”
He just looked at me with this look of awe and confusion, almost as if I told him that I planned to kill his first born son because that’s how I make my living. (Which, for the record, I’d never do. I love that kid…)
We sat in silence, both a little stunned that I would have actually said what I did. We sat there for what seemed like years, or even an eon or two.
“Where the fuck did this come from? What on earth are you talking about? You know I love you.”
His words sunk in and began to wreak havoc.
Behind tearful gasps I tried to choke out:
“But I never feel it. You never want to be seen with me? What is so wrong with me that you can’t even be seen with me? I feel like all you ever want to do is take from me and it seems like you have for two agonizing years. I love you, but I feel like I am just as crazy as they all say.”
“Baby, listen, I love you but I don’t want you, us, or anything to be destroyed. You mean the world to me, but…”
I cut him off again:
“Then show me or I can’t do this anymore. Show me you love me or it’s over!”
What the fuck did I just do?
24 hours until the special 4-day weekend. You’d think I’d be in school right? Not with a secret relationship with a guy that is 16 years away and lives another 7.
I know you’re thinking it doesn't take that long but realistically that’s how it feels.
You’d guess that I can’t wait to see him, he’s so “dreamy”, “dark”, “mysterious”, etc. but no, I’m not really excited. It’ll go the same way it does whenever I fly to L.A.:
• Arrive at L.A.X.
• Go through customs
• Check in and grab my bags
• Walk out the front door
• Stand in the parking lot to look for his car
• Get into a vehicle and get lectured…
No “Hello’s”, no “I’ve missed you’s”, no kisses, not even a hug. According to the famous Fall out Boy bassist: “Meagan is the love of my life”, not me. I always only get:
“Hey babe, you finally made it. By the way you’re making me really late, again.”
So, no, I’m not excited. The best part of my “mini vaca” is the flight and that’s only because I feel like I’m jumping through time. I go back and forth through time zones like I’m in a time machine oscillating, forwards and back.
May 25, 2013 12:45 pm (PST)
I’m out alone in Studio City, again. Yep, as you’ve figured by now: No togetherness outside of the sanctioned and private walls of his Beverly Hills home.
Oh well, I prefer shopping alone, especially for birthday gifts. Today is my little sister’s birthday… 16 years old today.
Same age I was when He and I began this hidden romance…
I swear I can't get over how I believed he has “loved” me for these grueling two years.
He picked me up without anyone picking it up on their scandal radar. We sat in silence for the entire car ride “home”. This was the routine. But today I got fucking sick of it.
“What are we doing?!”
He gave me a puzzled look but dutifully answered:
“We’re driving home, babe…”
I cut him off quickly feeling all of the shit I usually bottle up begin to boil over, ready to explode.
“No, what are we doing?! What is this? I fly out during every vacation I get from school only to never get a word out of you and to be fucked and sent on my merry way back home without so little as a ‘goodbye’ or an ‘I love you’!”
He just looked at me with this look of awe and confusion, almost as if I told him that I planned to kill his first born son because that’s how I make my living. (Which, for the record, I’d never do. I love that kid…)
We sat in silence, both a little stunned that I would have actually said what I did. We sat there for what seemed like years, or even an eon or two.
“Where the fuck did this come from? What on earth are you talking about? You know I love you.”
His words sunk in and began to wreak havoc.
Behind tearful gasps I tried to choke out:
“But I never feel it. You never want to be seen with me? What is so wrong with me that you can’t even be seen with me? I feel like all you ever want to do is take from me and it seems like you have for two agonizing years. I love you, but I feel like I am just as crazy as they all say.”
“Baby, listen, I love you but I don’t want you, us, or anything to be destroyed. You mean the world to me, but…”
I cut him off again:
“Then show me or I can’t do this anymore. Show me you love me or it’s over!”
What the fuck did I just do?