(un)merry birthday

This week was my birthday week. Wednesday, I turned 26. Before that was Mother's day. The first one I struggled through to be honest. I felt curiosity and guilt. Lots of emotions I'd never felt before when it came to the consideration of the day. I was born on Mother's day. A day I would bet my mother rued, and celebrated depending on her feeling. I sort of felt angry as to why no one ever thanked me for the pain and shit I went through to get rid of their child. The mistake that lasted 5minutes for them, and the rest of my life.
There was never a choice for me- and never will be. But I feel there has never been understanding when it comes to exactly what I went through, or the sacrifice of my sanity when it came to that situation. I remember hearing the whispers of "murderer" and the sad looks they gave me on the way in my nightmares. The fact I repeated the act (and will if I absolutely have to) is probably unforgivable. So... Mothers day. It's just another day. A day I was born on. A day that reminds me in screams and whispers I'm an undesirable in Christianity. Yet, I take true solace in what I believe. The words I've read based on people in scientific controlled enviornments and under hypnosis. The words that say there is no soul in such creatures, because they know better than to inhabit a body that isn't meant to live. Perhaps this sounds crazy- but I can't imagine it's any crazier than things in the bible, and my shit ideas are based on stuff that has proof.

So Wednesday rolled around, and I dreaded it because on Monday Dad said we were gunna talk about the tickets. So we did. And I felt bad. And I had nothing to offer him. No quick fixes. Nada. Instead I just told him we could try a parking garage or something. Dad asked if J would come to my place more. I told him I'd ask, but I doubted it. On every other Wednesday I have a karaoke date with some friends I met through Johnny and I, so we planned to meet them as usual. Before we could get there though my mom called and asked about a thoughtless comment my half brother had posted to my facebook. She thought I had provoked it, which I hadn't. So... We also fought that evening. I finally realized that the thing Russell Brand says about how we're implied promised happiness on holidays which doesn't always happen, is completely true. It was a shit day. In the middle of a shit week. The evening went shitty even after karaoke because then Johnny and I fought too, capping it off.

The next night Amber said something ambiguously attacking on facebook which prompted Johnny to say something to her. But after being without him for awhile I encouraged him to come sit with me and pay attention to me. That sparked the next argument. I was proud of him for saying something but in the ether somehow the signals got crossed and this wasn't portrayed enough. What I meant to say didn't come out properly at all. I felt completely defeated and worn down. After so long on this, after over a year dealing with her talking down to me, building up fences, pretending to be my friend, I think in the moment I was frustrated and took it out on Johnny. I wanted his attention, and knowing Amber will never change what she does or says, I just wanted Johnny to come sit with me.

Tonight was my birthday party, and it started off pretty shitty as well. My room mate Lauren who had promised to come, threw a barbecue at the last second and decided not to come out. I felt pretty betrayed by this, as I have mentioned before I felt closer to her and Greta then any of my of the girls. So, throwing an event even though she knew about my bday well in advance felt kind of... icky. Then my room mate Missy who I also invited, asked me not for a ride to my party, but to a completely different bar to go do coke with her friends. I declined. She then asked me for my pipe to do some green. I gave it to her feeling like a fucking door mat. I went to the bar by myself hoping to just get a table and maybe meet some new people or something while I waited for everyone else to get there, but Johnny and his band got there about the same time I did. We were alone the four of us for a long while. But eventually people started trickling in to my party, and slowly my confidence and happiness came back. When I realized how many people actaully came out for me and cared for me I was overwhelmed at one point. We again, practically had all the tables covered on one side of the bar. Johnny warned me to watch my drinks, so I ordered some bomb mac and cheese, and continued to drink and be social. As the night progressed I realized Johnny was pretty drunk. "Promise me you won't pass out on the floor tonight" I asked. He promised.

A lot of shit happened between that point and where I am now. Writing from my front lawn, looking at the stars, wondering what they have in store for me. I'm not crying anymore thankfully. You really can't make rash decisions when people are wasted. Johnny, or I.
He has told me before he hates the way he is portrayed in this blog. He has told me that this blog may be the reason he eventually ends things with me. He has told me all of the readers judge him in an unfair way. To this, I have not gone into detail as of late, what has transpired between us. The arguments in this blog I have only copped to my wrong doing, and left out the rest from what I gather. I am far from being perfect. I am 50% of everything that goes wrong between us. I fucking hate myself, for the same scraps of moments I like myself.
I will say this in my defense: I have tried to be the best damn girlfriend I have known how to be. I have gone at his place 98% of the time. I have received over 50 parking tickets just to be around him. I have payed for things when I could (though he wins this by far- I don't have much) and I have let him have the exact kind of relationship he has wanted as far as I know. If he can't love me back, he just can't. I can not fault him for that.
This is the first birthday I've ended up alone at, at the end of the night in at least 6 years. Not sexually or anything. Just sleeping in my rooom alone. It's fucking lonely. I hope Johnny texts me tomorrow and we can work through the truth of his drunk mind versus his sober mind. Where ever that leaves us.
I own up to my wrong doings. I am sorry for them. I know I'm viewed as: demanding, incaple of being made happy, waering masks, argumentative, irritating, a lush, without a spine, and a sorted arrangement of other colorful words. These things do not outweigh the good I have in me, but that's another blog. One I don't have in me to write tonight. One when my self esteem has returned and I don't feel like ripping my own heart out.
But my heart is on the floor for you, all of you. All I can do is pray to sleep for some relief and clarity. I won't do 26 again. 360 odd days and counting. At least the middle was good. I'm gunna cling to that- or at least try- when I wake up alone in the morning.
-<3-