I've come back a few times and visited what I have written here. Most of it was a lot of trying to prove to myself who I was, and denying that I wasn't what I wanted to be.
I looked back at the entry before this one - I quit high school three times. I went to a normal high school, left for legitimate reasons. Tried again, left for the same reasons, and the third time..
I left because leaving before left me in a position where I was to be doomed to be in Highschool until..
In a normal world, If I had never left it I would have graduated in 2009, nearly 19 and ready to find some college to enter.
That was not my life then, and it is no my life now.
Instead, I am on the cusp of 20, married, hating most of my life and yet at least I admit my reasons for doing things.
I'm not married because I'm in love. I'm not a High School dropout because I hated the system. The system, granted, is stupid. But I never made a big stand, I quit because I wasn't willing to sit through the same shit day after day, for years because I spent time in a Hospital instead of learning algebra.
I was behind. I'm still behind. I think that my life has perpetually tried to swallow me whole. Everything else just got thrown to the side.
My belongings - mostly gone, except for the few things I thought were precious - which turned out to be my clothes, a pillow, a pencil sharpener and a couple books. No pictures, not my first blanket, or sentimental objects.
My friends are scattered around the world, none of them call. I haven't told most of them I am married, except for the one traveling the world and getting balls deep in various asian girls.
There are a lot of times where I should have broken down, where I could have left things behind to make decisions that were more in tune with my feelings, but the truth is I've been stuck and angry for not going to school more. So for any of you currently in the hell-hole most modern civilization calls High School. It sucks, but it sucks more wishing you were there when it mattered and believe me.. It sucked a whole lot of unmentionable things for me when I did go.
Instead, I am here, my mother is probably deathly ill but lacking the insurance to actually get a doctor to say it. I'm married, and my husband is in Iraq, fighting a war I don't support.
Leaving me in a place that scares me half to death. I am a small town liberal girl who would be happy surrounded by a bunch of stoned hippies, and talking to no one instead of dodging army wife get togethers.
Maybe I just have a flair for the dramatic, and I do ultimately care as a friend, for the man that I have married.
But I wish I had done things differently even if I cannot logically wrap my head around how it would be different. I still see myself struggling no matter how I piece it together.
I wish I had dated less men, especially the one that totalled my mothers car. (Though.. I hear he might be going gay, after being a homophobic BASTARD for a long time).
I wonder what things would have been like if I had fucked Ruthie more. (Yeah, let's be frank here, that would have made me a different person.)
I want to go home - and I don't seem to know where that is anymore.
Sorry for the long convoluted rant. I know it's all kinds of fucked up, and I barely scratched the surface.