daydreaming and I'm thinking of you

Sometimes I sit at home and wonder how it'd be if he had loved me, truly loved me, yes, I learned a while ago that kind of thing never happens for me and so I go around and just pretend love is not for me. I play the circus clown around my friends, make them laugh and they won't see that, you never let them see you sweat, don’t want them to think the pain runs deep lord knows it's killing me

So I put on my make-up, put a smile on my face and if anyone asks me, everything is okay. I’m laughing cause no one knows the joke is on me cause I’m dying inside with my pride and a smile on my face, on my face

Singing lalala...

Sometimes I sit at home by the phone hoping he might call me, but he don't call me. But then I realize dreams come true aren't for girls like me, not like me. And so I go around with my head up like it ain't no thing and when the boys are out with all my friends, I’m into other things. Cause you never let them see you sweat, don’t want them to think the pain runs deep lord knows it's killing me

And so I put my make up (put it on, put it on), put a smile on my face (a smile on my face) and if anyone asks me, everything is okay (oh, I'm laughing) I’m laughing cause no one knows the joke is on me, but I’m dying inside with my pride and a smile on my face, on my face

It’s not an easy thing to do. Sometimes it’s hard to face the truth. It’s not the life that I would choose, but what else can I do? If he don’t love me. If he don’t want me, I’m not about to sit around, let myself go

So I put on my make-up, put a smile on my face. And if anyone asks me, everything is okay (oh, I'm laughing) I’m laughing cause no one knows the joke is on me. But I'm dying inside cause I’m dying inside with my pride and a smile on my face, on my face

Singing lalala...

Oh there's so much to write here ...

I had another seizure last week. I fell between two tables and apparently kept bashing my face into the one table ... and it was at a fundraiser too.

The last I really remember was setting my stuff down to help another volunteer hand out prizes and then I was waking up on the floor. I broke two teeth, my canines, and my teeth literally went through my lip. My aunt told me later that she didn't think it looked that awful ... until she realized that as she was looking at my face she could see inside my mouth.

After an MRI to make sure I didn't shatter my cheek bones, I needed 4 stitches to put my lip back together and my lip was so bad that the doctors seemed to neglect everything else: I tore my back up, my knees are all bruised and I'm still not entirely sure my one finger's alright - it bruised down into my palm.

I'm not sure what's worse: falling backwards and losing chunks of my memory from the concussions or falling face first and losing chunks of my face! Ugh...

I wasn't allowed to shower that night afterwards because my stitches were so fresh. The next day when I was showering, the water in my shower ran red with blood on the white of the shower. My hair felt like cement because it was so caked with blood. I had to sit there and literally pick giant mattes of my hair apart just to get it wet to try to wash it. I hate this, I hate this...

I've been really hashing things out in my actual journal too. I had an "ah ha!" kind of moment the other day. I've been having a very hard time moving past and on from some people in my past. I have this tendency to go back to some people because I think they know me, because (on some level) I think I'm dependent on them, that I need them. I am so hung up on missing these people and having such a hard time moving on when I realized that if I'm so hell bent on discovering myself, bettering who I am as a person and all ... that keeping these people around isn't necessarily good for me, that some of them are very bad habits of mine. I don't know, it sounded a lot better and more logical all fleshed out in my journal.

So, I'm far from perfect - what with the faulty brain, my bad habits and the contradiction that I am. I handle, um, just about everything entirely wrong. I mean, how can kissing someone be so easy and having (admitting? giving into?) feelings for someone be so tough for me!? ... no, no this is something that is far too complicated to just start writing about now at 2 am.

Oliver: I know I'm probably six years to late... but will you give me strike one back? –A Lot Like Love