Notes from 2010: December 23, 1998.

I was attempting to co-author a Sailor Moon fanfic with someone I'd met online, which is the writing I talk about at the beginning of this entry. Sadly, I procrastinated too much to uphold my half of the story.

I also talk a little about magick here--"call to her with my mind and heart" and all that.

Even then, though I thought of myself as a "hopeless romantic" (which is far from the case these days), there was a limit on how much I was willing to consider sacrificing for love. I have usually drawn very strong lines between crush feelings and actual love, and unrequited and romantic love (though you'll see them blur in my mind with my crush on Mark in future entries), and there have always been things in my life that are more important to me than finding "true love". The potential for success, for instance. The ability to write. There are things I would never give up for the love of anyone, and that's always been the case. Some things are just worth more than that.

"Oyasumi nasai" means "good night" in Japanese. "-chan" is a Japanese diminutive used for young girls and close female peers.

Dec. 22, 1998.

I swear to God, I am trying to lose my crush on Skylark. I really am. I wasn't so excited as I usually am, last time I saw her on--last night--but, when she left, I felt such disappointment... I wish that I'd talked to her more, so she would have stayed. It's so much easier not to crush on her when she's not around...

But, I so love seeing her that it's worth any pain, ne?

It's times like this that I wish I was a guy. If I was, I'd flirt like mad with her. Maybe even end up going out with her. But it's never to be, so... I'll just have to hope that either she shows interest in me, too, or that I get over it, and move on.

I wish I had someone I could talk about this with. But, there's no one who I trust enough and would feel comfortable sharing my secret with. I'd talk to Dani, but I would feel way to uncomfortable telling her that my crush is a girl.

So, like everything else I feel, I'll just have to deal with it by myself, ne? I do it all the time with painful emotions, so this should be an easy thing to contend with, in comparison.

Ah, Nikki-chan, would that everyone were as patient and caring as you. Then, this, none of this, would be at all a problem. But, this is one of those "you can't always get what you want" things that I'm just coming to accept--few people are. I tend to be, but people like me are rare, special, and wonderful. At least a few of us do grace this world with our presence.

At any rate, back to the matter currently at hand. I hope to see her again, soon--if I do, then I'll just talk to her as I would any normal friend. no flirting, no kissing of hands, nothing. The closest I'll come will be to say that I wish I could get her a Christmas gift. If things could only go as they do within my head, she'd then respond with "talking to you is gift enough for me," but in her beautiful, romantic way of speaking.

Of course, that is far too much for me to ask for. Which hurts, but I know that I'll survive this, as I do everything else.

Skylark will probably never fall in love with me, but at least she'll, I hope, become my friend.

I guess that I can't ask for much more than that, much as I'd like to. My Lord and Lady have more important matters at hand than one of their childrens' lovelife. *smiles* I'm not being at all sarcastic--I know that they'd help me, if I ever truly needed it. Now is just not a time when I do.

I'll ask Skylark, next time I'm so lucky as to see her, if she'd mind my asking her age. Maybe she'll be only 13 or 14, anyway, which would kill any and all romantic notions I have about the poor girl. I wonder if she knows? How I feel about her, I mean. She surely isn't stupid, which means that, unless it grosses her out, and she's explained it away to herself in some other fashion, she probably does. But, if so, she chooses to ignore it.

I can't help but wonder (because of my slight egotism) if perhaps she feels the same way about me, and that's why she left so quickly yesterday--because I wasn't talking to her?

But, I know that this isn't true. Unless she's just way better at hiding it than I am, and I'm sure that's not it.

Wish I could take one of my hours long walks just now--go to all my secret places, and sit, and watch, and write, and take pictures...

But, it's too cold, and it may be icy. I really wish that I lived in a place where it never got this cold.

I need some time alone. To think. And, I need to be in a place I'm in tune with, to really be able to think as much, as well, and as clearly as I need to do. So, my dilemma may not even resolve itself until spring. If it's even resolved then.

At least it's not an IRL thing. That would be even more awkward than everything already is...

I hope and even pray with all my heart that I will see Skylark again soon. Maybe I'll even presume to ask her real name, but I doubt it. I won't flirt, though, unless she is blatantly obviously flirting with me. And, not only would that never happen (though I so wish it would), even if it did, I'd probably not flirt back, just in case I was misinterpreting her motives and actions.

If only someone would c-attack her, and I could help in defending her... or, if she'd let me really get to know her, and take the time and make the effort to let me do the same...

Then, maybe, something would happen like I wish it to.

But, even then, likely not.

I'll keep hoping, but I'll do my very best not to scare her off.

Wish me luck, Nikki-chan. Love always and eternal

- Vale

Aug. 25, 1998.

I drink too much pop.

I don't know, it just seemed like a good way to start off an entry. I do, anyway. I drink at least two, often three cans a day.

You know, I'm thinking of getting another diary. I don't know why too well... I just... A lot of things have been recorded in here, which some would call bizarre; things which would have people deem me insane. I'm not.

I still believe in the things I wrote about in here, still believe in Magick. I guess I always have.

I'm naïve. I trust and believe in what people say too easily. In some cases, at any rate.

I don't trust and believe in people easily, though. Every person I've ever really, truely believed in (and, there have been precious few) has hurt me. Mom, Dad, Izzy, Hannah... all of them. It's still a struggle, at times, not to believe... in both them and others.

Why do they always hurt me? Why can't I trust, love, believe in those I ought to be able to believe in without the constant, overlying fear that they will suddenly change?

My parents shouldn't hurt me, should they?

Not physically, of course, but the wounds are still there. Some are slowly healing, most are raw and open.

It hurts so bad.

Pain.

Pain.

I know it so well.

Apparently, I "owe" Mom two hours' worth of work on my room. I always have a drawing to finish.

I feel like I have to scream and cry, but even if I do, no one will ever listen. Even when they do, they never, ever, ever hear.

"Please let me start screaming.
Please let me start screaming.
Please let me start screaming.
Please let me start screaming."

Those lines from Invisible Man by Lush, I believe?

Dad was in another of his moods today. I can't believe I got my hopes up when he joked with me like he used to, when he came to pick me up.

Is it normal to feel like crying every time you spend time with your father? Is it okay if he acts as though he doesn't like you, and ignores you when you try to start a conversation?

No. No, I really don't think it is.

It's good that he talks to Colin, at least, like he used to talk to me. Colin, I think, needs love and compassion more than I do, right now.

I guess that it was a choice of one of us or the other, huh?

Dad does what Mom does, now. Only, in some ways, he's worse. He makes me feel guilty, like I should apologize, then he gets upset with me when I do.

What the hell does he want of me? What does he expect?!

Bitter irony. He's quite a hypocrite. He condemns Mom for doing things he now does himself.

If all his talks about looking out for you and never helping others out of pure kindness lead to such emotionlessness, heartlessness, well, then, so be it. Let me be screwed, over and over, by those whom I help out of love and kindness. I will never be so cold. Never.

I will be me, not whomever he expects me to be, expects me to become.

I am me. If you don't love me for who I am--and this goes for all of you, present and future--stay the hell out of my life.

These pages are so small, it's hard to write. But bigger books don't come with locks. As flimsy as the locks on diaries are, I will not use one which is without.

As little protection as they may provide, it's better than nothing.

I haven't felt so bleak, so desolate, in a long, long time. I don't even have anyone to confide in, to whom I could speak freely of my pain. I hate my life.

I don't hate me, but I hate my life.

I need to get out of here, to start over somewhere new. Unfortunately, it'll be three or so more years until I can. Doesn't that suck?

This is one of those rare, lowest of low moments when even death seems preferable than this continued existence.

But I don't truely want to die. I want to escape. And I want people to be friends with, and people to love.

How many, I wonder, people will I be able to find who are not scared of my being Wiccan, and who like anime?

Few, I'm sure.

When I got home, I hoped to find solace from pain. But Mom was tired, and so I went to hide in her room and watch T.V. I sat there and cried almost silently, for a few minutes. Living like this is more than I can bear.

When she took me to get my supper, later, I was so tense. I didn't know if I would say the wrong thing, or too little, or too much, or what I would do to set her off at me.

Thank the God and Goddess, I managed not to set her off. She asked me if I was alright, and I said yes. She believed me. Good. I don't want to have to explain. Not now, maybe not ever.

She didn't listen. The one time I tried to, she refused to listen, and she yelled at me. She won't even try to stop hurting me.

Won't hardly even consider it.

I wish I had someone to look out for me.

I mean, and older brother or sister, or one of my parents, or a grandparent, or someone. Anyone.

But, I don't have anyone.

I have no one. I have no friends, and I have no family I can trust in.

I'm all alone.

And I'm so, so lonely...

- Vale

Notes from 2010: August 25, 1998.

I mention Wicca, magick and praying to a God and Goddess for the first time in this post. Izzy, Alyssa, me, and a couple other friends from school got interested in Wicca in eighth grade. As I recall it we were primarily inspired by The Craft, though we had heard about Wicca before that. But after we saw the movie, we read more about the religious and magickal aspects, started identifying as Wiccan, decided that four or five of us were a coven, and tried to perform some spells. I recorded a lot of that in my diary at that time, which is what I'm referring to when I talk about how people would think I was crazy if they read old entries. (For the record, I no longer identify as specifically Wiccan, though I do still like a lot of the beliefs. I also don't worry about people thinking I was crazy for believing what I did anymore, since in retrospect being severely depressed and suicidal was a lot closer to crazy than a belief in magick.)

I mention my brother Colin for the first time in this entry. I have another brother, Brock, who I'll likely mention at some point as well. I think Colin had broken up with a girlfriend recently, hence needing extra love and support.

I also reference an old fight with my mother that was still bothering me. I can't remember what that was about anymore, but it sounds like I tried to open up to her about something and wasn't thrilled with her reaction.

My issues with my father are expanded on somewhat here. A little extra background: My parents got divorced when I was in late elementary school. By the middle of junior high, my father had started a relationship with a divorced woman who had a family of her own. He got very involved with them, and his relationship with his own kids suffered as a result. I had set days of the week when I saw him, and since Brock and Colin were both too old for that, realistically I think they saw him much less often than I did. Unfortunately, by the time I was 14 or so, our visits weren't very enjoyable anymore.

Dad spent most of our time together with his girlfriends' kids, and I was just expected to tag along, hoping he'd notice me now and then. I still don't think it's exaggerating to say that he acted very uninterested in my life, and my brothers' lives, and didn't bother to get to know the people we were growing up to be. I'm sorry to say he still doesn't make much effort, but I'm more or less reconciled to that now. Sometimes it still hurts my feelings, but... he's an imperfect man. He did the best he could.

He's often gone off on ideological kicks, incorporating ideas and beliefs into his worldview that may or may not be a part of it six months or a year later. At the time of this entry, he was on a "never apologize, and never do anything for someone without expecting something in return" kick. I can't remember how long it lasted, but it was a bit disturbing to witness. I'm glad I was skeptical enough not to buy into it. It never seemed to make him particularly happy.

This is also the first entry where I talk about feeling like I might rather die than live. I backtrack immediately-but the thoughts were already building.