Complaints of a Girl in Love

…and all the joys that come once I realize what love really is

Month: November, 2013

When the weekend is gone

Sometimes he will tell me he loves me. Sometimes he will tell me goodnight and he will act like he cares. Sometimes I will smile because my friends saw that he messaged me and said he loves me. But sometimes he doesn’t seem to care at all. And it makes me want to cry. But I don’t. Why? Why don’t I ever cry anymore? I don’t understand…

I want to be able to cry over him again. But I have bigger things to cry over. And so I just tell him again, “love ya.” And he says back, “love ya.” And I smile and wish he were telling the truth.


The way it is.

I won the argument. It felt very good, not because I won, but because the truth won. When the truth wins out, I cannot help but smile.

He does not consider himself my man anymore. Which almost hurt. Okay, it did hurt. But I guess I’ll survive…I guess so. 

The weird thing is, I think we both realize just how wrong we did things. Of course it didn’t work! We did everything wrong! But now I want to do things right. And if that means waiting, and just being friends for now, so be it. I hate it. But I think that’s the way it has to be.

Now, on another note, who is this new chick? (I’m calling her q.t. (no reference to a g.t.) reason being those are actually her initials. I know, it’s weird.) 

I’m fairly sure she likes him. I really don’t want her to…and yet, they aren’t dating. And that makes no sense to me at all. And I’m scared and horrified at the thought of sharing him and I’m shaking and I want to drink mustard if only that would make it better.


I called him last night. It was almost like old times. Almost. But I gave him so many chances…I don’t think he realized what I was doing. 

We got in a fight about the military and the Bible and about killing people and video games and stuff. And I’m scared… But the thing is, I had a really great day yesterday. And even though I was upset about getting in a fight with him, I didn’t start considering it a bad day because of it. See, I am leaning on God now, and not on anyone else.

I called him last night and he was home. But I don’t think he understands what I understand. And that is what worries me the most.

November and new beginnings

It feels so right, you have no idea.

He was online and I messaged him. We talked like old times. But my mother wanted to use the computer to check her email. So I was letting her. But she was taking what seemed like and eternity to me and he was messaging me and I couldn’t do a thing about it. So I did something about it.

I called him. His sweet dear mother answered. And for the first time in a long time I didn’t ask if he was home. Because he was. I just said, softer and quieter than I wished, “Can I talk to him?” And that was that. We talked. I had a headache. It was so cold outside. The leaves on the maple tree standing over me were yellow and crunchy, and falling around me. I just stared off into the setting sun and grinned. We listened to Phil Phillips and Mumford and Sons. It was so wonderful.

He went to church last night.

He told me he loved me last night. I totally believed him.

We talked for just over 7 minutes. 7 mind you!

An unforseen kiss

It was late, wasn’t it? Quite late. I should have just gone to the cabin…but I didn’t. I sat at the table with my friends and I asked them if I should do it. They looked at me like I was crazy. But they didn’t object. Oh why didn’t they object?! In fact, they encouraged me!
I walked out of the dining hall, half expecting to have to search for him if I even wanted to do this thing that night…but no such luck.
He was standing right there, and so was she. They were just standing there talking, having no idea that I was enraged at the fact that he was talking to her instead of me.
I walked towards him confidently, my head held high. I was stunning in the moonlight and I knew it. I walked behind my friends, willing them not to laugh. I went straight towards him and he raised his hand like he wanted some kind of high five.
I grabbed his hand and leaned in towards him. I kissed his cheek and twirled around, my hand still in his. I let his hands go as I said, loud enough for her to hear, “I love you.”
I could still feel his cheek against mine as I walked away, my head still high, and my heart higher. I grinned, though I knew it wasn’t right of me too.
The only regret I had was having not seen her face. I still kind of regret that one…
I should regret doing that, shouldn’t I?
In. Your. Dreams.
Or in my dreams. Cause I often cry in my sleep now. Which is really kind of scary if you wanna think about it, you know?


I called him just the other day. His ankle still hurts. His step-dad was in a decent mood and only cursed once and was actually telling him things that would help his ankle heal. I…I don’t really remember that we talked about anything really. He was playing video games with his brother, I was watching a guy make salt art on youtube with my brother. I was waiting for someone else to call me back. 

He told me he was going to let me go. I didn’t bother to tell him not to say that. Even though I hate when he says that, and he isn’t supposed to say that to me. He told me he would call the next day. 


He never did. He never will. I might call him today. In fact…Yeah, I think I’ll do just that. Before church would be better. Maybe I can even get someone to pick him up for church tonight. Maybe I can force him to go.

Please, it’s a Thursday.

I’ll probably call him today. I most likely will. I would have last night but it was too late. But today is a Thursday. So I think it would be a good idea. I wish someone would just tell me to. I can usually do or say something that makes my sister tell me to, and I may have to resort to that.

But please, if you read this, tell me to call him. Becasue I think he loves me. And I really want to know.

If only he would call me. He used to you know. He used to a lot.

A Mother and a Smile

I had nothing better to do last night, and I had a phone in my hand, and you know what that means. But the strange thing is, I wasn’t really calling him at all. I was just calling to talk to someone in his family. Which happened to be his mother. And I love to talk to his mother, I love her so much. She was in a decent mood, and I made her laugh and smile (have you ever noticed that you can hear a smile???) which made me smile.

We did not talk for long. It didn’t matter. I made her night I think, and that was all that mattered. I just want her to love me. And she does. Now if only he would realize what I realized…..


“You miss him, don’t you?”
“More than you can possibly know.”
“Why? What did he ever do for you?”
“Don’t you remember Thursday? The first Thursday…Ever. And don’t you remember Monday? I was crying. That didn’t stop him. And don’t you remember Friday?”
“Okay, so he was there. But don’t forget how much he hurt you.”
“Hurt me? Did you ever stop to think that I might have hurt him?”
“What did you ever do that would hurt him?”

Songs and Sprains

My happiness lasted the whole weekend. Or almost the whole weekend at least.

He hurt his ankle on Friday and so I called him to see what had happened. (He had sprained it during gym.) We talked for 20 minutes. Bu then, no. We didn’t did we? No, we didn’t talk that long really. No, we sang.

He said, “I’m gonna sing for you, okay?” I was game. Of course, he can’t sing a note really, But it was beautiful to me. Because he was singing to ME. 

He sang “Radioactive,” “Demons,” and “Our God.” Me and my brother sang along. It was great fun. It was right. It wasn’t perfect of course. But even the imperfections were right, just because it felt like old time. Like last year. Like…like us. It felt like us, back when we were a team, us against the world. Back when we sang “the sky is the limit” and believed every word. 

It was a nice weekend.