The Never-Ending Cycle

[Calenfalathiel]

ooo, cool! I like the whole "Transparent, Transparency..." thing ^.^

[Xyloe]

Wow. Thanks, you guys. And I'm on my second page! Awesome. *dances* Here's another part to my story.

I see your eyes. Those ocean blue eyes I had once fallen in love with. You look up and your eyes wander as you begin to talk. "Mr. Paris wanted to know if you could come in seventh period today to practice." I look away, and I mutter "Yeah." The bell rings. "Ms. Bayne could probably give you a pass." "Nah, that's okay. He all ready gave us one." I wonder who's "us," but I look towards the door, and she's standing there. Oh. She doesn't even have first period with us. Why does she have a pass too? You probably wrote her name on it along with yours. So you could spend extra time with her. "Come on," she yells. You turn around and slightly look back at me. Then you leave without even saying goodbye. I turn my attention to Much Ado About Nothing. I begin to read Beatrice's lines. How much this reminds me of when we first met. We both liked eachother from the start. But neither of us wanted the other to know. We hid it by insults and jokes. But we loved each other. And we finally admitted it, with the help of our mischevious friends. But the story didn't end like we did. The story ended happily. With two marriages. And we ended with a bittersweet breakup. More so like Beatrice and Benedick's past love. And the day passes on. Seventh period comes. I walk down the dull hallways again. And I walk in. A weak nod of the head, showing me that you have noticed I'm in the room. No words except "We're starting here." are spoken. So little compared to our day-long conversations only a few months ago. Seventh period ends and I walk out. You stay in the room since you have eigth period guitar. I look at the ground and take a deep sigh. The light is too bright. I walk around the school to my last class which is in a trailer outside. My eyes hurt. Stupid flourescent lights. Stupid school with no windows; no natural light. Stupid idiots who designed the school. Stupid hippies that designed a bomb shelter for a school with smoking pits in the front. Stupid hicks. Stupid me for liking a guy like him. And stupid me for still liking him. What's wrong with me? But then I remember you're the one who keeps bringing it up. You've convinced your friends I'm evil. Whenever I come over to ask you something and they're around, I get a crowd yelling "Leave him alone, geeze." I begin to walk to my locker. I pass you in the hall. She's walking beside you. She's laughing. And her ugly teeth stick out as her mouth is wide open. And this is what attracts you? Why did I even try?

[Xyloe]

Work. This feet place I hate. It's weird washing stranger's hair. I stand near the dull steel sink and brush stranger's hair out of brushes. I look around, trying to find something to do since it's been a slow day. Don't want the bitch of a boss complaining because I'm not doing something while she sits on her ass all day, drinking coffee and eating sweets that aren't a part of her diet, and then complaining about how bad the snacks are for her, wondering why she's gaining pounds instead of loosing them. I look up on the shelf and see the semi-permament colored dyes. One is bright blue. I remember wanting you to come in and dye your mohawk that color. Just so I could see you again. But instead, you bleached your hair yourself and dyed it. Only to end up with blisters on your head. You should have came in. Would have been easier and blister-free. But you were too stubborn. I see the red dye. I remember wishing you had dyed it that color instead. Red was my favorite color. But I'm partial to the blue. It looked good. Red would have ended up looking pink anyway. I drop the hair-free brush into the ship-shape. A yellow liquid used to sterilize the brushes before they are dropped into the blue barbicide for a more intense cleaning. I look up at the clock. 7:45. 15 more minutes and I'm out of here. I start my nightly chores. Trash cans emptied and taken out. Coffee maker turned off and cleaned for tomorrow morning. Sweep up. Combs out of the barbicide. Check that the bathroom's stocked and clean. Take off apron. Sign out. Leave. Ah. Long day. My mom picks me up and we cross the deadly intersection. She asks "What's wrong?" as always. It's turned into routine. Like something is always wrong with me. And when there's nothing wrong, she's surprised and still tries to find something... anything... that's wrong. "Nothing" is my normal reply, and tonight is just that. I get home and eat a quick dinner. Try not to make conversation. I'm tired, and I still have my normal load of homework. I run upstairs into my room, my sanctuary and sign online. I check your updates, and see the "I love you" and I can't read on. It's not to me anymore. Why her. I don't understand. It's like I'm nothing to you. Like I never existed. "I love you, I want you, I need you." It's like an addiction. And every time I read it, it makes me sick to my stomach. I wished that I could be happy for you. I wished I wouldn't be bitter. But some wishes just don't come true.

[Xyloe]

Long one this time.

I'm riding home in my sister's silver convertible. The top's down. We don't care that it's almost eleven on a Wednesday night. It feels nice out. It was hot and humid today, but it's cooled down a bit. Now it's warm and the air is crisp. I slide my seat back, so I can look up at the clear sky. The stars are flawless, and there's not one single cloud blocking my view. I look up and I wonder if anyone I know, is looking up at them too. I wonder if they're thinking of me. And then I'm reminded of you. Not the "you" I have had on my mind lately. Not even the one before him. But the brotherly figure that was present in my life not so long ago. You promised me that every night, you'd look up at the stars. I promised you the same. That way, we would both be looking at the same sky each night.. I forgot that promise a long time ago. I feel like I'm a disgrace. I'm usually a person to keep their promises. Even if they force me to do something I know I shouldn't do. But I haven't appreciated the beauty of the night sky in many months. It's amazing knowing that we see the light from thousands of years ago. It's a mystery. What stars are still there? How long will it take for them to burst and turn into nothing? We can never truly know. There is only one thing I appreciate about this county. It's simply beautiful. Yes, during the day, it's not anything special to say the least. But when the sunrises, or sets, they can be completely gorgeous. And since there's not too many lights, you can see the stars and the moon perfectly. As long as it's not cloudy. And I think that's the only way I will truly be able to love and appreciate this place. I truly love the city. I love the energy of it. It's where I want to spend most of my time. But I think when I come back to visit here, I will appreciate it more than I ever did as a child. Now I think of the old "you." The one who was best friends with my "brother." How fast things can change. "Beautiful." You called me. "Perfect." Is how you described me. Just like the night sky. What happened? I was foolish. Pushed by a promise I couldn't refuse. It was promise to you. And you went against your word. I never did. I don't understand. How could she do it for so long, and each time she did, you loved her more. But the second time I do, forced by you, you loose all of your feelings for me. You pushed me to it, do you not understand that you caused this? And you're the one that ended it. But we still both needed eachother. And we both suffered. But I don't understand how fickle you were. Throughout all the time I knew you. You loved two of my friends at the same time. And you dated one, just for about a week, but you still considered it a relationship. You later turned to me. But you said that you couldn't love again for about five months. You asked me to wait. I was naive and said yes. You said you wanted to give your heart to me. Confident with what I had, I introduced you to a friend. And you fell in love with her. She told you she loved you back. But it was all lies. I promised her to not worry you. To not tell you how she really felt. You thought you were in a relationship. But she didn't. You never asked her. And when she started dating someone behind your back, you were terribly upset. You became vulnerable. And I was your first target. I helped you through everything. Everything with her, everyone before her, your personal problems. I held your hand through everything. So you asked me. But this time, I was cautious. "Do you still love her?" was all I asked. "Yes" was the reply. "Then no, I can't." Sometimes I look back and wish I had said yes. Just for the experience. Just because I cared so much for you. But then I remind myself why I said no in the first place. I would be lying to myself. And I'd be lying to you. I knew you so well. And I knew you couldn't take being lied to anymore. But I don't know you. Not anymore. I'm not really sure if I ever did. You don't understand what you did to me. You think it's my fault. I brought it upon myself. Perhaps I did. But you're not the only one who suffered. You gave me so much false hope. You had given me confidence. You reassured me. You made me feel like I was good enough. You made me feel decent. You made me feel like I was special. For once. And I lost it all. And when I lost it, I lost more than I had before. And I dealt with it. I had to start from the beginning. And pick myself up. You had to find something else to be dependent on. I just wish you had chose something different. You turned to drugs. You broke the law, and put your health at risk. You never would have done that if I was still there. But I'm not. And you couldn't deal with it. Did you ever think of me once while you were doing that? Did you ever think of the promise we made eachother? You smoked a cigar when you were ten. You claimed you didn't know any better. I worried, like I always do, and you reassured me you would never do anything like that again, cigarettes, cigars, drugs, even alcohol. But you went back on your promise. And you know how I was with our promises. And you never seemed to care. I should have known better. You made me do things I regret. And now, I've lost my pride, my dignity, my confidence, everything. And you have no idea. The silver car pulls into the long, gravel driveway. The dark green trees partially block my view. And then I see the cold concrete of the garage ceiling.

[Xyloe]

Hmmm..Finals. And this is the time I write the most. How ironic. And when things keep popping up, inspiring me to write. Here's yet another part.

You always do this. All guys do. I don't understand it. You do things that make us like you. And then you date someone else, and you don't want us to like you. You wear things to remind us of our past loves, you say things that make our hearts melt, and you look at us like we have a chance. You give us false hope. But it's just a game. Or rather, an addiction. We wait for you, just to catch a glance, a scent, to feel your presence, giving us a natural high. We try to make conversation, keeping us from going into withdrawal from a drug we rely so much on. And yet, you act so innocent. You are the ones who lead us on. Who pretend like it is all right. Until you ensnare another hopeless addict, and drop us into rehabilation centers. You complain about how you have girls who want to be with you, who claim they love you. I don't give any of you sympathy. You did it to yourselves. I just returned home from giving you a ride after band practice. Too bad you're on drumline now. You would have been awesome in the pit. You wore an odd shirt today. I've never seen you wear anything like that. But it's almost the exact shirt the previous one used to always wear. They were always black, with some sort of graphic, and buttoned up in the front. You had to have a shirt like that. Just to make me like you even more. And you know I'm into astrology, the stars, the sky, everything celestial. We had the top down, and you were looking up towards the sky. I asked what you were doing. "I like to look up at the sky" was your reply. My heart melted. And yet, your false innocence makes us feel like we're idiots to ever think we had a chance. Like we made up all of those looks and conversations just to make us feel better about ourselves. But it always happens. It's not just me. It's you. I'm sick of this always happening. I have to force myself to hate you. But that's never going to work out either. Because secretly, I know. I love you.

[SwordBound]

That's awesome, and yeah I agree, guys can be real pains sometimes...well...a lot of the times, but it's not their fault they were cursed into a life of stupidity is it? I don't know, but that's why I go easy on them. Anyways, I like what you wrote. Keep them coming.

[Xyloe]

Thank you, Swordbound! Yeah. Guys are born with it... Sucks. Oh. And to all the guys on the boards. This kind of stereotype, I guess, usually doesn't apply to you. It's just the guys that live where I live. And then like over half of the other guy population in the world. But usually not the artsy/creative guys, or whatever. At least from what I've seen. Just hope you guys don't take offence. Anyway. Here's another one.

I'm sitting on my computer. Waiting for you to possibly get online. I pick up the green plastic viewer that lies in front of me on my desk. It contains a picture taken only yesterday. My friend invited me to go. I look inside, and there's three of us. My friend, her friend from another state, and me. We had so much fun. We conquered my friend's fear of amusement parks containing millions of people puking everywhere. We rode as many roller coaster as we could. We laughed and screamed until it hurt. But you weren't there for any of it. I'm not sure how I feel about you. You never even said "hi" to me. I wasn't sure if I liked you to begin with. You were just something foreign. Something to get my mind off of the one that I "love." If love exists. But you seemed my type. You have many of the same interests. You had a great personality. And you still typed many messages to me. Almost everyday, there was at least one. And I'd spend at least 30 minutes typing the same length of a message back to you. And you went on this trip as well. I told you about it in one of those messages. "It would be awesome if you could go." you replied. But you never said one word to me. I'm not the type to iniate things. We both said that we had self-esteem issues. But you seemed confident enough at the park. You just looked at me. With an odd look. And you returned to your friends. And to that one particular girl who you spent most of your day with. I wanted to talk to you, say even one word. But she was always there. You seemed like you enjoyed her company. And she enjoyed yours. More than just friends. I didn't want to ruin that. And I wasn't thinking logically. Who could like me. Who could like me when they haven't truly met me. I'm an idealist. I wish things could turn out the way I dream them up to happen. I wish I could have spent the day with you. Maybe then my two other friends could have rode the rides in one cart, you and I in another. Rather than one left out each time. We could have talked. We could have laughed. But things never turn out that way. And you seemed different. Once again, how could I have not known that would happen. All guys are. They act differently around their friends than they do when it's just them and a girl. They make us feel special. They can actually carry on a good conversation. And for hours at a time. But whenever it's not just the two of us, it's less than five minutes each day. We get to know the "real" you, which we are so attracted to. And then, when we see the real you, it's a person we aren't attracted to at all. And it confuses us. At least we're usually the same person all day. We don't change. Or at least the girls who are like me. I look up, and I see I got a new message from you.

[Minya Collowen]

haha, yeah I still agree with you. Guys suck, always have and always will. The poor things, they can't help it right? lol anyways, nice work (as usual!)

[Xyloe]

Thank you guys for the comments!

"I'm graduating early." My jaw drops. There's a great difference between what is considered a Friend, and a "Friend." "Friends" are those people that you are nice to their face, only to talk about them behind their backs. They annoy you, and you can only stand them for a few minutes. All right, maybe a little bit longer, enough to hang out on rare occasions, but not everyday. Now Friends, are the people that you can talk to about anything. That don't annoy you at all. That you can sit and talk for hours. That you can be truthful with. That no matter what, you'll always be there for them, and support almost anything they do. That will listen to your problems. That will give you advice whenever you need it. That you would do the same for. I only have three. Three real Friends. I know it's pathetic. But that's all I really need. I thought I'd have one of them through my senior year. But she's graduating early. And I'm happy for her. The earlier out of this rainbow hole, the better. And I know it's selfish of me to want her to stay, but that's how Friends are, aren't they? It's amazing that I even got to know all of them. And got to know them so well. I'm surprised that I haven't shut them away from myself all together. I know why I can't make many friends. Once you really get to know most people, you get to know the bad side. They're not afraid to show it around you anymore. And most people's "real self", annoy me so much that I want to rip my hair out. Or strangle them. Or get them to shut up. Or to just leave me alone. But I'm not the type to cause conflict. Or at least I try not to. And that's why I get stuck with so many people who think I'm their Friend. When they're truly just a "Friend" to me. And I know I lie to them. I know it. And I feel bad because I lead people on. But make them look me in the eye and tell me that they don't get annoyed with me too. That they don't talk about me. And then we'll see how many people truly think I'm their Friend. Or treat me like a Friend. And as for a love life. The only people that I love are my family and my Friends. And sometimes, I don't even know if I love anyone or anything at all. My love life is non-existant.

BTW- I think I figured out a name for this "story". "A Teenager's Thoughts of a Non-existant Love Life", or something along those lines...

[Xyloe]

This will probably be the last post of this I post...at least in a while...

I open the white-painted drawer of my catty-cornered dresser. I see the treasure chest box that I painted three years ago. On the top, there are movie tickets. Not the ones I am looking for. I dig through the folded papers a little further. I see a folded sheet of paper. I unfold it once. " There they are." I look at the four or five movie tickets. I put them in order from the least recent to the most recent and set them on the top of the dresser. I continue to unfold the sheet of paper. It has been so long since I put this in here, I've forgotten what it was. I read the first line. "An Unfortunate Ending." I remember now. I read the rest, and then I fold it back up and pick up the tickets. I hold them in my hand for a few minutes as I switch back and forth between staring at the pieces of paper and myself in the mirror. I stop and stare at myself, thinking. "I was actually happy tonight. Morethan I ever was with you, or with anyone else." I look at the memories again. "I need to start over. Start a new chapter in my life. I know it won't last forever, but at least it will be something." I walk over to the white wicker waste basket and watch as the papers fall from my hand. "I can't let him get in my way of being happy. I can't still hold on. I should have done this months ago." I walk back over to my dresser and reach into my pocket. I place a new movie ticket in the box. "He's the one I want to hold onto now." I close the box and put it back into the drawer. And I couldn't be happier.