Over it.

I'm making a new blog. 

And running away for the night. 

And I'm going to paint something. 

And I'm gonna put my phone away. 

And I'm gonna learn my lines. 

And I'm gonna shave my head.

Not really but that sounds exciting.

And I'm gonna rearrange my room. 

And I'm gonna wear leggings 

And my northface 

And put my hair in a bun

And I'm not gonna wear make up.

And I'm gonna put up Christmas lights in my room. 

And I'm gonna get a good smelling candle.

And I'm gonna throw all my old clothes away. 

And I'm gonna pack a bag with no where to go.

And I'm gonna wear a face mask. 

And I'm gonna master that tap dance. 

And I'm gonna watch dr horrible. 

And I'm going to listen to breathe from in the heights until I hate it, which might be impossible. 

I need this. I need out. I need time. 

Breathing

I'm over it. And it's beautiful. I can breathe. That sounds cheesy, because it is, but it's true. I instantly feel better. Now I can focus on myself. Learn my carol lines instead of worrying if he likes me. Focus on little women instead of wondering wtf he means by his texts. I can go lose the weight I wanted to, I can find ways to feel pretty. It's gonna be great. He'll hate it :) 

I'm not a second choice, babe :)

Hunter and Ethan.

I've know the infamous Ethan forever. I love every little thing about him. Every. Little. Thing. He's so popular in Topeka and I think it's hilarious. People think I'm super weird so they don't believe that I'm friends with him. Well. 13 year old tori and 16 year old Ethan were best friends. And now, he's successful. My baby is out there taking over New York and I couldn't be more proud. 

And replacement Ethan. I mean, Hunter. I love Hunter. He's amazing. I love him so much. He makes me very very happy. I want to do shrek with him for the rest of my life. And the little dates we have, I could do forever. Love that kid.

When you want.

It's this constant feeling of walking down a hallway and thinking people keep looking at you and talking. Not "she looks good!" "Did you hear about this cool thing she did?" But horrible things. Horribly, nasty things. It's that feeling where you feel like people don't mean anything they say to you. Every compliment is empty. It's that feeling when you figure out you're just a joke. It's that feeling when you know you don't "need" a guy and you will never be that girl, but when it hurts so much to fuck something great up and then have it haunt you everyday because the other one can't make up their mind either. It's that feeling where I'm becoming too scared to pursue my dreams because I know people don't approve and some people that pretend to, don't really want me to. I hear about everything. Seriously. Everything. I know everything people say about me. Even people I'm close to. I just pretend I didn't hear about it most of the time. Just pretend it never happened. Then instead of saying something to the person, I beat myself up about it. Wanna know how many of these stupid journals I have filled, trying to "get my mind off things"? It's been 4 years and I'm not fucking fixed. Funny how a piece of paper and a pen is better medicine than any of the shit they give me. It's the feeling where you know you could die, and maybe 10 people would care. 10. And the sad thing  is, I can't name those 10 people. Because sometimes, I don't know.It's that feeling where you feel like you have to impress everyone, because people come to your shows and what not to see you fail. I have a few people who pretend to believe in me, but i know what half of the few people have said. Because their "best friends" and "friends" tell me everything they say. Because you know, "Please don't tell anyone" means nothing today between anyone instead of just the few exceptions. 

I want a new start. After this year, I need to drop everything and figure it out. Do I quit theatre and try to find something I'm good at? Do I go to college in California and become a new person? Do I just go for it? Shit. 

Future

Life is just.. Rough. 

Everytime I think I'm good at something it's just.. Not real. 

Being an actress is out of the question. And so is musical theatre. Am I still going to do it in college? Probably. Because I don't really have anything else going for me. 

Maybe I can be a stage manager for traveling productions.. I think that's my calling. 

Fuck if I know, though. 

In that moment, where you tried. And you just don't want to die. You desperately want to live. Which makes it sadder to think about those who succeed. 

Like

I miss his jokes that I don't understand.

I miss his eyes. Those beautiful, beautiful eyes. 

I miss him knowing I'm not as smart as him, but him joking about it anyway.

I miss him thinking I was amazing. 

I miss him talking about how him and I needed to talk more. 

I miss him being here.

I miss him updating me on his life and new school.

I miss him ranting about things while I pretended to know what he was talking about. 

I miss kissing him. 

I miss four on a couch. 

I miss holding his hand and complaining about our hands getting sweaty which only made him grip my hand tighter.

"That's my girl."

I miss him singing off pitch to dr horrible with me. 

I miss the references I will never understand. 

I miss the feeling I had when I was with him. 

I miss him.