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----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- I'm not a princess and she's not a prince. Saved from cliche. The math classes start in a couple weeks. I'm STILL hoping this isn't a waste of my time, but if it is, I'm leaving and going to the GED classes instead. Fuck it. Going on a little road trip with Karen's dad tomorrow to pick her up from Shepard (her college) for labor day. I really hope it's just me and him, because I can deal with her dad, but anyone else in the car would probably make me feel like the third wheel. I hope I can borrow her AP books when she gets home. I need to study the science and history parts of the test, which aren't in the classes, of course. Bastards. I renounced myself as a furry about a week ago, so I changed everything I could that had the name "Tabbi" on it. Like that name was ever so creative to begin with. It was Amy who made me realize how stupid it was (yes, I said it was stupid. Don't stone me). I guess I'm just getting sick of her fursonna. It's always Keese this and Keese that. "Call me Keese! I'm a big red fruit bat!" Umm...no. You're just some person who wishes they were an animal because you can't deal with your life as a human. Maybe that was a little mean, but I'm a total bitch inside my mind past the sweet exterior. So get over it. Like I said before, i can't stand the furry lifestyle - walking around in a fursuit, wearing a collar (though I did try it). Then when I say I don't like the suits because they look dumb, all of a sudden I'm not a "real" furry. Okay, fine. Maybe I'm not. After a year of contemplating it, I finally talked to Amy. This time I did things right. Not through a boring message on AIM, but over the phone. It probably would've been better in person, but there was no way of doing that at the moment. I made sure to write down everything as a script, because I usually tend to forget what I'm gonna say in a situation like this. I told her about my issues with the no touching rule and why I ignore her sometimes and all that pent up junk. She responded to it better than I thought. I mean, last time, it was more like "yeah, whatever. I don't care, shut up and deal with it." Not directly, of course, but that's how it seemed. This time she began almost sobbing (imagine that), telling me that she was jealous of whats-his-face (the one known as "puppy" ) when I was going out with him and there was a lot more to say, but she didn't wanna say it. I suppose I got most of the answers to my questions, but some still remain, as well as some desire for a normal relationship. I'm not asking for the cliche fairytale romance that you read about in some hypocritical children's book. I just wish it could be better, I guess. But for now, at least I'm done crying over the death of the past. 9:24 pm - August 30th, 2007 |
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