All Hallows Eve-All Alone

Another Halloween come and gone.... I still feel the horror.

About three kids came to my door, so little candy was given. That shits going to tempt me for days.

Did 160 sit ups... lifted some weights... still not enough. Already decided I'm going to try not to eat tomorrow. I can't let myself go. Not after him. Not after he let me go. I have to stay strong, keep thin- prove him wrong. Prove to myself that I can be beautiful.

Finally saw you-know-who today. Our eyes met on the stairs, and I nervously acknowledged him. I must have looked ridiculous, a silly girl in a goth dress and wizard hat and black lipstick, waving at a handsome senior on the football team. Surprisingly, he gave me a slight acknowledgement. 

Maybe I could text him.....

.....Then again, maybe not.

...Jesus, I haven't been this scared of a guy since elementary school.

Scared of what he thinks of me.

"I can't help it baby, this is who I am... I'm sorry but I can't just go turn off how I feel."

Lyrics that really stick with you. Yeah.

This world is fucked up, you know that? All this bullshit just gets in my head.

More poetry ahead. I wish it was better... but I did write in in Starbucks, so cut me some slack. A soppy breakup poem, you'll get the meaning.

The Grimm Brothers Lied

Whatever happened

To the good old thing 

Called love?

Whatever happened to

The serenations, the carnations

Delivered to your door, for no reason

Except that it's monday.

Whatever happened

To good old fashioned chivalry?

The knight in a fitted tux,

Ready to sweep you off your feet

(Guess boys are getting weaker every day)

Whatever happened

To you and I?

Didn't you love me

Once upon a time?

I guess my fairytale ending

Was erased from the page-

But you left those words, your once

Sweet words, aching and stabbing

On my heart.

Should've left me in the tower,

I just wish I'd had the sense

To cut my hair.

Goodnight, guys. And Happy Halloween.

-V.

Thinking....

This song has been running through my head all day.... the topic of a heartbreaker from the past came up in conversation with a friend.

The lyrics that really strike me would probably be:

I want you to know it's a little fucked up that i'm stuck here waiting, no longer debating.

Tired of sitting, and hating, and making these excuses for why you're not around, and feeling so useless.

Seems one thing has been true all along... don't really know what you got till it's gone.

I've guess I've had it with you and your career.

When you come back, I won't be here. And you can sing it.

It makes me think of what I've done wrong, but how there's always that turning point in heartbreak- when you realize that they're not in your life, that it's only you, and now you have to take the reins.

Spent another night staying up till 2 am talking to Varsity Jacket. Even over text he's articulate and opinionated. Didn't know you could express much more than "LOL" from a text.

Got greek food with Pops today. We watched Kitchen Nightmares this morning and they were at a greek restaurant, and I just said "Hell yeah, I want some calamari now."

Dressing up for halloween tomorrow- a gothic witch, my third costume. (The first two were Jessica Rabbit, and a Rage virus Zombie from "28 Days Later") I'll just wear my Tripp dress from Trash and Vaudeville.

What else can I say to the empty universe of the web? Except maybe that I'm searching, searching for something. Could be heaven, could be hell. I just want to find the one place where I'm happy- whether it's on another continent or in the arms of some wonderful guy.

...Then again, don't we all?

-V.

First Introductions/Lingering

Alright, after last nights ranting and ravings, I might as well finally make introductions.
I am sixteen (no shit I'm going on seventeen, I mean it's not like the numbers follow each other or anything). I'm of average height and build, blonde, and, not to be immodest, but I've got pretty good teeth. I'm over the top, insecure, creative, a virgin, crazy, """""unique""""" (although I just say weird), emotional, and I make a mean fucking cheesecake. I've had my heart broken, and have broken hearts in return. I'm not popular. I love my parents, but I have my bouts of angst. My ratio of close guy friends to close girls friends is extremely unbalanced, to the favour of the boys. 
And above all, I write.
I go by a lot of nicknames. Quality, Surgeon, Burns, Opossum.... but as we all suffer Identity crises on the internet, I'll go by Vixen- given to me by my last boyfriend.
If I really stick it out on here, I'll post poems, photos, and whatever bullshit seems to run through my head at a moments notice. 
Buckle up for safety, and enjoy the ride!


Lingering
I glance at my phone, at the last text that Mr. Varsity Jacket sent me.
"...text me sometime, lemme know how your party is. goodnight. :)"
I glance at the time. 6:47 PM.
The party was cancelled. Rach messaged me earlier today, saying that the neighbourhood that the party was in was incredibly sketchy, and that she didn't think it was safe. After some asking around, there were indeed no more parties. So now here I sit, one walk/run, a trip to a diner, and a batch of cookies, later. And I'm contemplating texting... well, you know.
I click my phone again. No messages. Aren't I popular. Well, Arien did text me this morning, congratulating me on my "wheels". Rach also congratulated me, and thankfully, she wasn't upset that I had stolen her wheels (she visited her boy that night and made amends). All the while she was talking this guy up, saying how awesome he was, how smart he was. Which only makes me more hesitant to contact him.
I can still remember the heat of his body against mine, his scent surrounding me. I hear the music blowing through the speakers and into my ears, buzzing through ever bone in my body. I feel his fingertips tracing my skin, his soft lips on mine. Always lingering.
.....God dammit.
I crack my neck and look down at the poem I just wrote. I hear dad moving around downstairs, coughing loudly. "Getting hungry, honey?" He calls out. My mind wanders to the steak teriyaki and rice in the fridge. "Nah, I'll wait." I call back. Gotta finish this post.
I check the phone once again. Nothing.
I don't want to seem like a major creep. How the hell can I scare off a guy THIS early? I mean, fuck, god knows I've done it enough.
Ah screw it. I'll try him at nine- no, nine thirty.
Here's the poem I wrote about last night. Enjoy:

Swayze Ain't Got Nothing On Me

The rolling, slamming masses

Of adolescent humanity

Crushing up against each other,

Swaying, grinding to the beat

Of the overrated buzz of "music"

(Kids don't know how to dance to rock n' roll,

Seems they can't dance to electronica either)

It's do or die on the dance floor-

You're either locked in the embrace with another,

Taking 'Dirty Dancing' to a whole new level

Or you're the wallflower,

Clinging to the edge of the dark gym

Like you may be sucked away.

But even a wallflower

Can burst into bloom,

Come alive, lose control,

If a shove is given.

They can fall into the right arms

And they can learn to sway-

Feeling the burning contact of someones skin

And have their worries dissolve

Into the thick, hot air,

As they lose it all,

As they begin to fall

From a soft, sweet kiss.

-V.

First Post- Dirty Dancing and Mistaken Identities.

I won't even bother with first introductions- I'll save that for another post. Right now, I'd like to rant and rave about the evening I had- my school's halloween dance.

As most of you know (or have experienced) already, Halloween for people past the age of puberty is really just a free opportunity to dress like "Slutty (Insert Noun Here)", go to parties/dances, get wasted, and screw each other. (See 'The Oatmeal: How Different Age Groups Celebrate Halloween") Since this is my 3rd year In high school (Goddamn it, I am old), and I was rejected by several houses last year when I went Trick-Or-Treating, I unwillingly passed into that brand new stage of Halloween. But being a virgin, a light drinker, and a retired social outcast, I was not quite ready for the whole "get wasted/screw each other" part. The other parts I was a bit more open to. Having gone very safe for the previous two dances (Wolverine and A nondescript Princess), and fresh out of the gates from a breakup (a stunning 3 weeks- shortest relationship in my books) I was ready to flaunt it. So I made my own costume, and chose one that I knew nobody had done, or would do- the sultry Jessica Rabbit from "Who Framed Roger Rabbit?"

Here's a photo of my makeup:

I got ready at my friend Darcy's house, and with my single friends Rachael and Arien in tow (Darcy's dating) we headed over. Darcy was wearing a sexy victorian hooker outfit, Rachael was adorable in her sailor getup, Arien was some chick from the Jersey Shore, and I, of course, was Jessica Rabbit.

We arrived at the dance just as people were piling in. A lot of people complimented me on my costume, but only a handful of people knew who I was. Almost immediately I was given a leer by a jock who wasn't bad looking. Arien, who, after my recent breakup, declared herself my "Wheels" coach, prompted me to ask him to dance. The dance ended with him forcing his vodka tainted tongue into my mouth, and I shoved him away. Discouraged, I stuck close with my girls, having a good time. Casually looking around, I noticed a familiar face wandering the crowds of people- a boy from my senior english class (I'm a grade ahead in English). Thick mutton chops, model-t curls slicked back, and a varsity jacket: his name was Hunter, a senior football player. 

Now, before I get any further, let me just say that I don't "have a type" of guy. I've dated 3 boys in my life- all from different social stereotypes. There was Andrew, a nerd who sang chamber choir; Jesse, a depressed poet and ex-emo, and Craig, my last boyfriend, who used to be on the football team but quit.

Somehow, I think I just go for a person who simply piques my interest. Hunter seemed to do that.

Anyway, back to the dance. It's about a half an hour away from ending, and it's me, Rachael, Darcy, and her man, Tony (Arien disappeared to who knows where). Tony and Darcy were dancing, and me and Rachael,  being third and fourth wheels, danced together. Suddenly Hunter appeared out of nowhere and Tony shoved me and Rachael towards him. Rachael danced with him as I stood awkwardly by, until something in me prompted me to yell "Snowball!" and she switched with me. I was now in the arms of a boy that, three or four years ago, I would either be terrified of or only admire from afar.

We danced briefly, locked chest to chest, the shitty electronic music pounding through my skull. I figured we'd last maybe the rest of the song and then we'd split apart, retreat to our separate corners of our social universes. 

But he didn't let go.

So, we kept dancing.

After a while, he turned me around to face him. He shouted in my ear, "Sorry I haven't said my name. I'm Hunter."

I blurted out: "I'm __________ I'minyourfirstperiodenglishclassI'mactuallyingradeelevenbuti'mayearaheadinenglish..."

He laughed and smiled. "Yeah, I don't really pay attention in that class."

"S'cool." I said. The music filled the silence between us. "I like your jacket." I finally said. 

He looked down. "Thanks." He looked back at me. "I like your whole..... outfit." He finally found the right words, at least for him. "Thanks. It was a bitch to do."

And it was. I had to fucking tape my skanky dress to my chest just so my tits wouldn't fall out, I had to glue down and conceal my eyebrows, and constantly reapply lipstick. Not to mention the fake eyelashes made me feel like dead spider legs were attached to my lids. I got whored up to the max, and now I was just glad that somebody was actually appreciating it.

We danced longer, and I barely noticed Rach giving me angry stares as she walked off with Darcy and Tony. We were now alone, and in the midst of it all, I felt him push my tangled hair aside and plant a small, soft kiss on my neck.

"Well, damn." My conscious murmured. I knew it was definitely a heat of the moment thing. My very first wheel! But I couldn't help but like it. He spun me around and this time planted a kiss on my cheek, his damp skin contacting mine. Naturally, I blushed and pulled away a little.

"Is that okay?" He asked, a little nervous sounding.

My Angel Goes: Stay the heck away, Vixen!

My Devil Goes: Hell to the fucking yeah!

My mouth goes "Yeah, it is."

Then we kissed, for real.

I left the dance slightly early, as I had to grab my stuff from Darcy's car. Me, Arien, Rachael, and Darcy waited near the door, while Rachael ostracized me for "stealing her wheels". Hunter passed by. Drunk with newly found confidence, as soon as we made eye contact, I winked. Rachael noticed and glared.

"You slut." She said, but she said it with love.

After getting my stuff, I waited outside for my dad to get me. As I waited in the cold, the sweat cooling on my body. I saw him draw near again and looked down as he started to walk by me. Don't let it get to you, Vixen. It was just a 'wheel', only a 'wheel'. 

However, I found myself looking at his feet.

"You got a number?" I heard him ask me. 

I looked up, stammered "Yeah." and we exchanged out digits. I hadn't had a boy ask for my number since Grade nine.

We talked to each other for the next two hours straight, ending it with him asking me to text him after my party tomorrow. 

Just a wheel, huh, subconscious?

Well, that's it for tonight.

Cheers,

V.