the young american

oh, the shit that's surfaced recently.

so much shit. all landing right on top of me.

adam searched this site and found it. read everything. that's why some entries are private now. he texted me on tuesday afternoon asking if he could come round early cos we needed to talk. i had no idea it was about this though.

so who are you then? neon princess, with your pretty lies.

i actually froze. i actually felt the icey chill trickle from the top of my skull down to the tips of my toes. my mouth wouldn't open, my eyes wouldn't close, my head wouldn't turn. and all the time his stare was fixed directly between my eyes.

there was a lot of silence for a while.

he said one of the worst things he read was this:
...then he looks at me and tells me he's falling for me.
What The Fuck?
i felt guilty. he's not falling for me at all. just the person i let him believe i am...

i didn't know what to say to him. i felt a large brick in the centre of my stomach, weighing me down, pulling me to the floor. where i fucking belong.

we went to the pub for my sister's birthday later on. as though nothing had happened. as though he had no recollection of these dirty pages. nothing.

i got pissed on mai tais and long island ice teas. adam soberly drove me home at about midnight. i invited him in for 'tea', which grew stone cold while we messed around on my living room carpet.

yesterday i went to a conference in newcastle with school. i already know how much trouble i'm in, but my parents had none whatsoever. they were informed and that's why i didn't want to go home after the conference. adam was at uni, so i met him at 6 and we went for a drink together.
when i was on my own, i walked past a debate going on at the top of northumbria street. i turned around and stood and listened for about half an hour. it was about god.

i envied the young american spreading the message of greatness, love, faith, hope, glory. i wished i could feel those things as intensely as he obviously does. just to feel them at all would be good enough.

to feel loved solely for being me.

to belong.

captivating, graceful, innocent

i thought maybe i could squeeze in a quick entry.

more has happened, yet again. much more though. friday night was hilarious, again. me, tanya and noah got steadily pissed, not on a par with the week before mind, but still pretty far gone.
ran into alison. nuff said.

we met up with adam close to closing time, and he followed us to another bar and then we all ended up at my house. in bed, we took things a bit further than we have so far. it felt good. i'll say that much. no S-E-X though.

we were lying together, naked for the first time, hands everywhere. then he looks at me and tells me he's falling for me.

What The Fuck?

i felt guilty. he's not falling for me at all. just the person i let him believe i am.

i remember looking at the clock and seeing it was 5 in the morning. then closing my eyes and falling asleep, naked with someone i really cared about. i felt so peaceful. until 7 when i had to get because house viewers were coming round.

he makes me feel special in a glamorous way, not like anthony ever did or could. he really is... special.

"captivating, graceful, innocent...."

anthony rang me on tuesday night. 'what's wrong?' 'i just haven't had the chance to ring you. i haven't got long hannah' 'where are you?' 'i'm at the flat' 'ah, right. are you ok? how did it go on moday? (the trial for his court case)'

i heard a girl's voice shouting up the stairs of the flat 'hiya' in an annoying high-pitched squeak. victoria. it made me think about all the times that used to be me.

'i've got to go hannah-' 'yeah' and i hung up on him.

he rang me again on wednesday lunchtime. the trial didn't go too well. he was found guilty - eighteen month ban from driving, £600 fine and to top it all off he was arrested the second he walked out of court for being AWOL from the army for the past two months. he spent the night in jail on monday and on tuesday he got taken back to his new base at catterick to sort everything out.

my heart was bleeding all afternoon.

he rang again at six and then again at ten and i can't help but think that this is wrong, and yet at the same time i'm so glad that he's rang me and he's talking to me. afterall who knows when we'll speak again?

don't judge me. i know it's wrong. i'm only really hurting myself though - and god, i'm so good at it though.

ghb and nipples

i was so tired when i woke up this morning. i can't see why though, i mean i spent practically the whole weekend in bed.

friday was very fun. i went out with noah and tanya again and we did a lot of talking and laughing and relaxing. i feel like i can't do that with anyone else. it's strange. maybe the alcohol plays a factor in it all but then why do i share the most intimate details of my life with noah every other day of the week? i just can't explain it.

i saw a lot of people i knew again. i lost tanya and noah at about midnight, but found adam. i made such a tit out of myself. god knows how many times i was picked up off the floor. god knows how many times my nipples were on show. fucking ghb.

i remember seeing him and grabbing him - while he was in the middle of talking to his friends - and kissing him without even saying a word to him. god, where were my inhibitions that night?
later on i saw anthony's friends martin and julian. we talked and they seemed genuinely concerned about me. julian told me i'd find someone who'd treat me better someday. i smiled carefully and even though i could barely stand i remember thinking to myslef you have absolutely no idea. none of them know the whole story. not one of them.

i looked over at adam then. i introduced them to each other. julian looked at me differently then. i wondered if he was thinking he'd spoken too soon.

when we got home we lay down together in front of the fire. in the morning so many things crossed my mind and i had to think hard to remember exactly what happened with adam before we got into bed - which i don't remember doing.

fuck knows.

Anastasia

The internet’s down at school so I’m writing this in word and I’ll paste it in later.

The weekend was pretty interesting. The Charity Ball on Friday night went smoothly and I managed to last the entire party without any of my dirty little secrets revealing themselves. I felt unbearably sober. As though I was the only one in the room without an alcoholic drink in my hand – well, that’s not too far from the truth. I’ve never felt so tense, nervous, excited, sick to my stomach at the thought of the truth coming out. Yet, it didn’t. That’s good, right?

I felt like a Princess looking in the mirror at home – the dress, the make up, the hair. But then when I arrived at the party I felt small, like a naïve little girl at a party of grown ups. You can never let these things show, though. Keep them hidden, like everything else.

After a few drinks Adam grew moody and from looking at my phone, I’m sure he tried to ring Anthony. He started to ask me why he came round on Valentine’s Day – ‘It was just like any other day. It wasn’t meant to mean anything special’ – ‘Yeah. To you, maybe’ He said a while ago that he’d seen my eyes before somewhere – when he was standing on a cliff, looking out to the sea in Cornwall. I looked at him then and wondered if he knew what I was thinking while he looked at my eyes. I hope not.

We went out together again on Saturday night, and when we walked back to his house early in the morning – the temperature outside being about -1, it started to snow. He stopped me when we reached a bridge, standing under the light of a streetlamp. ‘You look beautiful with snowflakes in your hair.’

I froze. He kissed me. I couldn’t move. Who is this? How the fuck do you know all these things about me? ‘What’s the matter, Anastasia?’ (he joked that I looked like a Russian spy that night) I smiled slightly – ‘Nothing. Nothing’s wrong. Just cold.’ He smiled and put his arms around me.

‘We’ll go straight to bed when we get in.’

I wanted to cry.

interflora day

as always, much had happened since i last wrote.

mumps sucks ass. seriously. i thought i was going to die last week.

friday 4th : went out with my 'older' friends yvonne and julie. got pissed. took speed. met my 'younger' friends noah, tanya and marissa. made an amazaing effort to be civil to people i once had a problem being civil to. saw so many people i hadn't seen in ages. like phil and michael, beau's friends. adam came to meet me in the club about five minutes before closing time. i said goodbye to my friends. me and adam bumped into beau. i introduced them to each other - which of course wasn't awkward at all. it was about 12 30 and the speed was well in circulation by this point. i made adam drive us to the beach, and we sat there for about two hours, me talking incessantly, him listening carefully. then we drove back to my house, and we didn't get into bed until 4am. but of course i didn't sleep. no sleep for the speedy.

on saturday morning i was a mess. and i was starting to get a lump between my jaw and my ear. this got worse and on sunday night i had to go to accident and emergency. mumps was diagnosed.

on monday morning my parents were at work. i was in bed, asleep, dreaming. someone woke me up, shaking me gently. it was anthony, holding his old key up.

surprised? me? no, no.
shocked.

i told him he couldn't come near me and because i was tired and shocked there was a lot of confusion. when i got round to telling him i had mumps he just laughed and gave me a cuddle. 'no wonder you look like shit'. after a while i got tired and said he should leave.

the next day i had to get the bus to the doctors to get some stronger painkillers. the journey there was bad enough. sitting in the waiting room was a nightmare. i looked like a freak with a massive balloon sticking out the side of my face, and i was freezing cold, temperatures all over the place, the pain in my stomach was terrible, and i was so, so tired. i texted anthony asking him to ring me. i couldn't bear the thought of getting on the bus again.

half an hour later, just coming out of the doctors surgery, he rings me. he's whispering, i barely understand him. 'have you got money?' 'yeah' 'then i can't hannah. i'm sorry. i'm with vicky' 'ok. bye' god, he cares so so much, right? i'm such a fucking idiot.

adam came round and brought me flowers that night. he made me smile. they were blue and almost made me cry.

on saturday morning i woke up to find 12 red roses had been delivered. adam again. how sweet he is.

later on i got a delivery. five huge red roses delivered by the interflora man. no card. no name. just adressed to me. couldn't be adam...

or maybe it was adam though. he could've sent them just to make me feel even more special. he seems like the kind of person who doesn't need gratitude to make someone feel good.

I’m pretty pissed off because I spent my whole double free writing one big ass long entry yesterday and xanga wiped it – fucking twats.

Anyway.

To summarise what I wrote, Anthony is long long gone. He was long gone last time I wrote a proper entry but as always there was that small part of me left hoping he’d realise that he could never really leave me – he did promise that he’d always take care of me. He wouldn’t – couldn’t leave me. Could he?

…

I got a phonecall last week, at about midnight. He’s depressed again. Why can’t you talk to Victoria? - It’s not that sort of relationship – I thought she loved you? – She said she does – I think you should be talking to her right now – She doesn’t care, Hannah. Not like you do (long pause, while I bite my tongue)

Do you realise that the last time you made an effort to speak to me was when you came here two weeks ago? – Don’t pretend you didn’t like me being there

Is it the army again? – Just everything, really. Money, mates, Victoria. (long pause as I hear him take in a mouthful of smoke) I miss you Hannah. Everything’s falling apart again. I need you (and yet all through December he let me believe I was to blame for his nervous breakdown)

Go and see your doctor again. Blag some more time off so you can go to the pub every night and fuck behind Victoria’s back – Princess – What do you want, Anthony? (long, long pause)

I’m sorry. It wasn’t your fault. You were the only one who cared, tried to make it better. I’m sorry (unfortunately none of this was particularly satisfying because I’d known it since I found out about Alison)

You’ve moved on, Anthony. Let me.

It never hurt so much to hang up on him. All those times I was out with Adam in November and he’d ring – I’d hang up without thinking twice. I thought long and hard about him all -night.