Missing: Friend and Severed Head. Fifty Dollar Reward for Friend.

Hood still reads my blog.
How the hell has Hood found my blog?
After all the changes, deletions and constant construction of my literal life, Hood has found me, yet again. You are a crafty woman, Hoodie.
But yes, Hood still reads my blog. I feel a little dirty. A major shadow from my past has dipped into my very personal life and I'm a little astounded and dumbfounded by it. Hood has possibly read a very explicit account of asssex - DIRTY. I don't feel dirty about the sex bit. There are few things that I'm good at and sex just happens to be one of them. Katie however, just knew me in a time when I was anything but... singular with men.

Dirty!

Katie was my best friend through the majority of highschool. We met in grade nine band class and soon after, became good friends, even though she was weird and wore skull rings. Our friendship blossomed over clarinets, QT films and her mother's tattertot casserole. Now that I've come dangerously close to being old and responsible, I can sincerely say that I miss the days spent in her basement, learning about exotic things like ICQ and what would eventually become the greatest love affair of my life: Ben Folds.
I unfortunately, stumbled into an awful fit of love with a less than deserving jackass soon after. I don't blame Jeff for the demise of our friendship, but I do hate him for it. Jeff was always someone I couldn't say no to, and while Katie was strong and independant, I was weak and stupidly naive - I still am. My ability to be a good friend faltered, and I can only imagine how awful I actually treated Katie and that is one of the things that I deeply regret.

When we left highschool, Katie was wisked away to magical BC to persue acting. We kept contact, but like many distant relationships, the effort was lost. I eventually came to terms with my actions in highschool, and I think, pleaded for months and days and years for her to forgive me for being such a tool. I know she's forgiven me, but no amount of forgiveness could ever replace the friendship that I forfeited for a shit relationship with a boy who was in love with his guitar and hair.

I am an idiot.

I don't miss Katie now, not like I used to anyway. But I think about her from time to time and wonder what she's doing and how her life is working out for her. She is an oustandingly loyal, creative, and driven person and anyone who has the pleasure of meeting her is either spellbound, or in complete envy of her. She truely is remarkable.

Katie, if you read this, I do miss you. I'm sorry for the awful feelings you're dealing with and I wish I could help. I however, loathe the awful cliches and the horrible loads of bullshit that seem to follow the words, "breakup." I don't want to frustrate you with sympathy for a feeling that I will never understand, but I am sorry.
I know it don't mean much, but I still love you in my own little way. And while it may be nothing more than a way to hold onto a past that I miss very badly, I hope you can take the smallest of comforts in it.

***

Andrew.

Reading over my blog entries, I've made him sound like a complete asshole. I wish a buzzer would go off every time I opened my mouth to talk about him because I always seem to fuck it up.

Andrew is nowhere near as awful as I make him seem.
I never wanted a relationship full of roses and chocolates. I don't want overbearing romance, poems and all that other love-sappy-crap... gross. It's always everyone else that seems to get in the way of my opinion of him - my weakness revisited. Who woulda thunk that there's a stereotypical "perfect boyfriend mold" into which all males are supposed to fit? Who woulda thunk that any man who doesn't supply his girlfriend and/or wife with all the qualities that are listed in the perfect boyfriend stereotype paperwork would be considered a bad egg? Andrew was not a bad boyfriend, he just functioned differently. And while he never said the things that ooze out of idiots when they are in love, I know that they are in him.

"I don't want to do this anymore. Crying, all the time. I hate it."
"I do too."
"So what am I suppposed to do?"
"Wait for me, just trust me. It will work out, we just have to wait."
"I can't wait anymore. It hurts too much."
"I love you."
"Sometimes I don't know how much."
"What do you mean?"
"You say it, but I never feel it. You say you want me with you, but you never sound like you're dying inside because you can't be with me. Why aren't you saying to me, 'I want you now. Now. NOW?' And why isn't there any pain when you talk to me? Why is it so easy for you?"
"It's just the way I am. Baby, I miss you so much."
"But it hurts."
"I know. Please, just wait. I need to know that you'll wait."

***

I need to staple my head to my neck. I think that way, my brain will be forced to work properly. For now though, I enjoy the fact that it's anywhere but where it needs to be.