Laying in bed; can't sleep. Feeling heartbroken. Was reading a trash romance novel about a woman who thought her husband was cheating and left him...only to learn 5 years later that she still loves him, and he'd never cheated. Whole part with engagement rings reminded me that I'll never get one. :(

Miserable. Can't muster will to get out of bed. Wondering if he's still in Bensalem or if he's headed home. Wondering if he's told his family we're through. Depressed over fact that he hasn't called/texted/emailed. I called him last Wednesday; sounded so cold, unhappy to be hearing from me.

Just need to accept that it's done and over. Fucking waste of four years.

Also, this weekend has been the longest.weekend.everrrrr. I can't believe it's only Saturday night (wee hours of Sunday morning).

Tonight was the worst. Knowing that Ben is in Bensalem cooking for his brother, so close, and yet he didn't even call or text me? Pretty fucking painful. Even though I know it's over, and we're never getting back together, I can't help hoping... I know he's not going to call me tomorrow; he's not going to stop by for a visit before he heads back to school. But for whatever reason, I just can't help getting my hopes up, just the tiniest bit.

Thank goodness for Joe. If he wasn't engaged, I'd be on that like white on rice. We argue like cats and dogs, but he's one of the nicest guys ever.

At a club in NE Philly. Everyone's getting numbers, a couple people tried to dance with me, I don't care. All I keep thinking about is the fact that Ben refused to answer my question-laden email, he refused to hang out with me tonight, and he isn't going to call me today.

How did things degenerate to this point?

I feel as though I'm finally resigning myself to the fact (as I'm certain it is a fact) that Ben and I will never get back together. I just can't stop moping and feeling miserable over that fact. I don't want to be with anyone else. What the fuck was I thinking??

At least I have Derek and Joe looking out for me and keeping me company. :/

God. If only...

+ At least my phone is in my own name.
+ At least we aren't living together.
+ At least I won't be seeing him around after this weekend.
+ At least I won't have to go to his parents' house alone around Christmastime.
+ At least I didn't wait another two years.

I'm miserable.

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+ At least my phone is in my own name.
+ At least we aren't living together.
+ At least I won't be seeing him around after this weekend.
+ At least I won't have to go to his parents' house alone around Christmastime.
+ At least I didn't wait another two years.

I'm miserable.

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So apparently Kelly broke my shifty laptop, ripped the charging part straight out and just didn't feel the need to mention it. I have a load of files on there that still need to come off. Do something nice for someone and get kicked for it.

Also, here it is, THREE weeks into living at the new house, and the only jobs she has applied to are the ones that Ben and I pretty much MADE her apply to. We drove her there and sat and watched her fill out apps. WTF is that shit. Marko and I are up showered and out the door and she is still in bed. And then she has the nerve to tell ME about how "stressed" she is. You know, what with her ONE community college course and her NO job. WTF, I dropped $5100 to get the place and she paid me $350 and doesn't have money for next month's rent and is not looking for a job and SHE is stressed?!?! Try working pt, taking university courses full time, and being responsible for the bills (like if they don't get paid your credit is FUCKED responsible). Omfg.

Kill me, pls.

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Dear Livejournal,

Kelly is being a bitch...again.

Ben doesn't even live here but he does more chores than Kelly.

She laid in bed until noon, STILL doesn't have a job (didn't even make an effort to look today), yet bitches about Marko non-fucking-stop. Marko, who was out of the house at 8:30 for his 9 am class. Who cleaned the entire kitchen from top to bottom, and cleaned the dining room floor on his hands and knees.

Omg I want to shoot myself.

The good roommate is moving out and leavlng me with the horrible negative one who bitches about EVERYTHING but does NOTHING around the house.

Kill me, please?

Sincerely,
Xine

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Mainly because of the fact I can't wear jean to them. Also because I hate filling out paperwork, waiting, and having to name references.

I forgot my chapstick at home. This has potential to ruin my whole day.

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I had a really bizarre dream just before I woke up in which I drove home (I don't know from where), and the house was laid out in a mirror image of itself; the driveway and garage were on the left side instead of the right. The garage was partially blockaded, though I could not fathom why.

Cut to being in a stolen military vehicle. 12 tires or so, massive. It's driven by a man I somehow know is my father, despite the fact that he appears to be nearly 30 years younger than my father. As the T-Rex races to the cab of the hard-topped vehicle (in actuality, I believe these vehicles only come sans top altogether, or with a stretched canvas top), I, safe inside the back, can somehow see into the driver's side of the truck. I watch the Rex chomp down onto the cab, and while he easily fits the majority of the cab into his powerful jaws, as he begins to crush the cab, my "father" somehow manages to shove the driver's side door open just enough for him to slip out.

Suddenly, I am sitting at a desk. I am a little boy with a mop of light brown hair. It is very dark, I am dreaming about the T-Rex, and I scream. I scramble to my feet as someone (me?) turns on a flashlight and shines it erratically around the room. There is another young man at the front of the room (giving a repprt?) next to a woman in her late twenties, who I recognize as my teacher. Class is then dismissed to the cafeteria, which is also poorly lit. I can only see through what little light streams through the tinted plate glass windows. I can see a sea of green on the other side of the glass, as though I am deep in the jungle. I sit at a table intended for two with an enormously fat boy, who has two red handprints across his stomache. I ask him about it, and he tells me that the other kids make fun of him. It is then that an unshaven blonde-maned man with glasses begins to speak, loudly. I hear him say "the Lord Jesus", and I silently roll my eyes. These people think that praying will save them from a multi-ton killing machine? I think to myself in distain.

Then I wake up.

WTF?!?!?!

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