Will this ever be alright?

Patrick

Dear Patrick,

I
I c
I ca
I can
I can't
I can't s
I can't st
I can't sta
I can't stan
I can't stand
I can't stand y
I can't stand yo
I can't stand you
I can't stand you. I
I can't stand you. It
I can't stand you. It's
I can't stand you. It's o
I can't stand you. It's ov
I can't stand you. It's ove
I can't stand you. It's over.
I never want to see you again.

That's how she told me. And it hurt alot. The same way she said she loved me, she said she didn't want anything to do with me. And you know what? I never wanted to see her again. Not after what she did to me. But really, who am I kidding? I was practicly begging her! I was on my knees. I didn't want her to go. Not at all.

Pete says she wasn't good enough for me and I know he's trying to help, but he's not. It just makes me feel even worse! I don't want anyone to feel sorry for me. I don't want them to worry, but I know they will anyway. So, lately I've just been mopping around on the bus, stareing out the windows and wishing she would come back. Just like I am now. But, really I know she won't.

"Hey, Pat," Joe said bringing me out of my dazed state. I just looked over at him. He sighed and continued with what he was saying, "We're gonna get something to eat. Do you want anything?" he asked me while turning and walking tword the door then stopping to look back at me. I just nodded and got up, following him off the bus.

As we walked into the small gas station a little bell above the door rang. Not many people were there. Just the guy who was working there at the time and a women who was tall with black hair. She was talking on her cell phone and seemed a little stressed.

I followed Joe over tword Pete who was looking through the drinks and other things that needed to be refridgerated.

"Hey, Pat," he smiled sadly. "How are you?"

"I'm fine," I said trying my best to pull off a smile.

"Good," he returned the gesture.

I walked over to the counter where there were chocolate bars, bags of chips, and a few other candy type foods. I couldn't help but hear the lady, who had been in the gas station when I walked ins, conversation.

"Amy, please. She has nowhere else to go. You and your parents are her only family left," she paused.

"Amy, I know Chicago isn't the best place for her, but really we've got no other choice," she stoped again.

"Amy, that's out of the question! I can't take her in because she's not my family. And we are not putting that poor girl up for adoption! She's been through to much already," the women yelled quietly into the phone.

I pried myself away from her conversation, feeling very confused about what she was talking about. I picked out some chips and put them on the conter like the rest of the guys, then once everything was paid for, we all left and went back to the bus.

Amy

I've been to countless shows, memorized every lyric, bought every CD, and kept it a secret. I still sat on his roof every Saturday and watched the stars or the snow. And every Sunday and Wendsday I watched Star Wars for seven hours straight, just like we used to.Now he was famous.

He had millions of girls at every show who screamed his name and that they loved him. Not as many as a certain someone but that didn't really matter. He was to good for me now. He kept his promise for a little while and we talked everyday for about three months, but then he just kinda didn't call and I thought that maybe he was really busy so I never called him.

Now, he's coming home from tour and I'm not sure if I should try and meet him at the airport or just kind of dissapear. I think I like the second option best. I mean, we were friends since first grade so I didn't really expect for him to just not call. It was so un-Joe like.

Sure he had come home from tour more than once, but he never came to see me. It was like he never really cared. His 'rents loved me to death and asked me why I didn't come around when he got back from the tours. I always just changed the subject. I didn't know why but it hurt. Every time he didn't call, every time he was in Chicago and he didn't come and see me, every time I went to a show or bought the new CD, it hurt. I really like squerls, though.

I never met the other guys. Pete, Andy, Patrick. Never did and the way things have been going, I don't think I ever will.

It's like Joe grew up but I didn't. And I think that if he ever does decide to talk to me again I will royaly kick his ass. Joe.I.Am.Your.Murderer.[Insert Heavy Breathing Here] I mean it. I'm not completly just sad about it. I'm infuriated. No one hurts me! No one! He said that himself and I'm going to make him eat his words. I will. I won't back out of it. Not like I did when I told him I was going to kick his ass the many times before. No, now he crossed the line. My diary interys always say something about him. Like the one I wrote the night before;

Dear Yoda like one,
I'm not really sure why I even care anymore. I guess I just don't
give up on people. Why do I have to be me?
It's not fair. I hate it! I hate him. I really mean it this time!
I hate him. I will never forgive him. Not even if he
beggs me. Never Ever!
Love, teh annonimous one you love soooo much

You see, I can't hate him. No matter how hard I try, I can't hate him. I just never can. But, I promise you I will kick his ass. I promise you.

Oh, and you know what's even worse then him coming back from tour and me actually thinking about punching him in the face? My demon of a cousin is coming in from New Mexico to live with my parents and I. Her plain will be in at the same time, on the same day, as the plain Jewseph will be on lands. Chance of seeing Joe Gay Walker: 99.999 %.

Yes, I said 'Joe Gay Walker.' I have many strange nick names for Troh 'Teh Cave Man. So, what if I just made that last one up. They call it ADD but I call it fun. My life is a walking icon.

I'm twenty-four, single, and still live with my parents. Why you ask? The being single part is because my dad is one of those guys who runs a tatoo shop, he's big, strong, and looks like he'll bite your face off. Really, he's such a sissy. Has a soft spot for kittens and small children. So do I. Why I still live with my parents? I have no life and have yet to decide if I want to go to college or not. I've got the shcoller ship and the college is willing to wait, but I'm not really sure if I want to go. I'm deathly afraid of Orangatangs.

My mom is always sick so I also help take care of her, and I help my dad run his tatoo shop. It's not a very big buissiness, but it's one of the best.

My mother is currently very ill in the hospital, though I'm used to it. She's gone through alot within the past twenty years. I always remember her being sick or being an amazing mom. Amazing in the sense of, loving the music I love, teaching me to cook, being there for me, ridding my first roller coaster with me, my first concert, my first star wars movie, my first heart break, and of course my graduation. She was there for all those things. Well, she wasn't there when my heart was broken, she was just there for me during that time.

My demon of a cousin? Her name is Allison. She's thirteen. She's one of my best friends. She's in love with Pete Wentz. Just like every other thirteen year old girl in America... well, not every other, grrr, you get what I mean! She's obsessed with Peter Panda.

I like nick names okay. Peter Panda, Joe Gay Walker.. I just love the nick names. Mine is Amybear.

Me saying I never met Pete is a lie. I've met Pete. Only once though, but I still met him and we hit it off really well. If I ever meet Andy and Patrick, their nick names will probably be... Pat Rick and Andymonster. Yes, Andy-Monster. I think it sounds cute. Yes, cute. I like Spiderman.

I think I need a better nick name for Patrick. Hmm... Pacman... Pattybear... No, no I've got it! Patty Cake. That's what I would call Patrick. Patty Cake. I like it. No, actually I love it. If I meet Patrick his nick name will be almost as cute as mine. Almost. Mine is the cutest.

It took Troh-man over a year to come up with my nick name. How long I ask, does it take to come up with something as simple as Amybear? When your Joe Gay Walker it takes a year. Yeah.

I like sitting boardly in the dark. It's what I'm doing now. It's Saturday and in 4.926 minutes, I'm going to climb out my window and climb onto Joebo's roof. Today it's been exactly three years, four months, one and a half weeks, nine hours, thirty-six minutes, and fiffty-seven point nine seconds, since the last time I sat on that very roof, with Joe, the last time, I've ever said anything to him, in person.

Yeah, I've been keeping track. I know it's sad, but really if your best friend told you he was leaving, wouldn't you want to remember the last time you saw him in person, face to face, not crowd to stage?

I'm good at this rhyming thing. I think I'll write a poem.

Face to face
Not crowd to stage
Anger took over and filled me with rage
That's why your dead
No more Joe Troh

What do you think? I think I like it. I should write poetry more often. It makes me feel awesome. But when don't I feel awesome? I mean, I am the Amybear. I've got an ego if you can't tell.

Back to me... in the dark. While sitting there on my bed with only 2.05 minutes left until I was going to go sit on Joe's roof, I decided that tomorrow, yes tomorrow I was going to confront Joe and punch him in the face. Then I'm going to freak out and tell him how sorry I am for punching him in the face. But then again I don't think he'll remember me. I mean it has been three maybe, four years.

My hair is even reder. People ask me all the time if it's really natural. It is. I swear. Short and naturally red is the way I like my hair. It glows in the dark. Not really, but sometimes I wish it did. Maybe, I wouldn't trip over so much stuff.

Once my two minutes of waiting yoda quotes were up, I pushed myself off of my bed and pulled on a coat and some socks, then sliping some tennishoes over my toe sock covered feet. I climed out my window and grasped onto a tree branch. Slowly, I hauld myself up to the roof of Joe's house. I laid down on my back, staring at the black stary sky.

I bit lightly at my lip ring, before I started singing Calm Before The Storms chours.

"You said, between your smiles and regrets; Don't say it's over. Dead and gone. Dead and gone. Calm before the storm, set it off. And the sun burnt out tonight. A reception less than warm, set it off. And the sun burnt out tonight." by the end I had to be careful not to start crying.

But that's one thing, I'm not good at.