1. Dear Tumblr, (Day 36)

    So have you ever had that feeling where you just KNOW something without even doing or saying or hearing anything?

    What I mean is, you have that feeling inside you where you are so absolutely sure of something and you don’t even need to do anything at all. Like you KNOW that this career is perfect for you to begin to pursue. You KNOW that you’re going to get a good grade on that test. You KNOW that you’re getting that gift for your birthday. You KNOW something went wrong. You KNOW.

    You know?

    Well, I know. I KNOW. I know I’ve made these promises to myself in the past, that I try to uphold. Be strong, Erin. Be strong. You don’t need Poptart. You don’t! But here’s the thing: I do. I KNOW I do.

    But it’s more than that.

    I’ll probably sound like a stupid teenage girl, but whatever. Have your opinion.

    I know that when I look at him, he’s everything I could imagine for myself. He’s tall, he’s cute, he’s adorably awkward, he’s passionate, and has a smile that could melt your heart.

    And still, it’s more than that.

    He’s my best friend. I have other friends - in fact, I’ve had one friend for ten years. But Poptart, he’s different. He feels closer to me than that old friend. He encourages me when I doubt myself; gives me advice when I feel lost. And he can make me happy when I feel sad. He’s always willing to dance, even if it is his signature awkward move (bob and clap). He’s special.

    My best friend.

    I know that friends come and go. I know that when I leave for my summer job and college, I’ll meet thousands of other people. I might find someone there. But Poptart…I KNOW Poptart will always be special to me. I KNOW he’ll always have a large spot in my heart. I KNOW.

    And…well…I love him.

    I hate using the “L” word outside of a relationship - who am I to say that I love him? - but I can’t deny it. I can’t deny my true feelings. I love him. I KNOW I do.

    Anyways, I spent most of this week with Poptart. New Jersey State FFA Convention, you know? That’s what solidified all this in my head for me. See, he was running for State Office, which is a HUGE deal. As a State Officer, that person is a representative of the entire state of New Jersey in Agriculture. They represent New Jersey FFA and Farmers and Agricultural Businesses. The Officers also visit all 35 chapters and speak and inspire. They run the Career Development Events and plan all the FFA Events. They are very important and it is an honor to be a part of the State Office.

    Well, for the 2012-2013 State Office, Poptart ran. There were 14 impressive candidates, but only 7 places. 7 people would not have their dream come true. I was nervous all week for Poptart - I couldn’t see him upset and disappointed. It was hard.

    And then it happened: the session that decided it all. And dear, dear, precious Poptart………………………………HE WON! He is the current New Jersey FFA State Reporter for the 2012-2013 year!!!!! I swear, when they said his name, I almost exploded. My heart pulled a Grinch and grew three times the size. I was so happy. And so was he! He ran on stage and I swear, his feet never touched the ground once. His smile was so big, it mirrored mine in the back of the auditorium. And I cried. I cried like the sissy I am. I was - AM - so proud of him.

    I don’t think I could have been happier if I had won the office myself. Physically impossible. I was so proud.

    After the final session, I hurried to him. He was hugging at talking to a few former state officers. But when he looked at me, it was the most amazing moment of my life. His face broke into the huge, heart-melting smile. The one that shows the tiny freckle on the corner of his lip. He was like ‘OH MY GOSH! CAN YOU BELIEVE IT?!’ at the same time I did! And we had the most epic of all hugs - he even picked me up. I was crying and smiling and laughing and so was he. It was amazing. I was his biggest supporter.

    I don’t think anyone cares right now, but it was important. And I am overflowing with joy. And I am positive his mother is equally thrilled.

    And it was good I stepped back to allow him to take in all of his other congratulators. It gave him a chance to calm down a little. But that’s me. I get him excited and worked up. haha.

    So I’m abandoning my attempt to leave him be. I’m still just the friend, so that hasn’t changed. See, I am going to enjoy what little time I have left with Poptart. I love him, but I can’t stay. I leave for my summer job in 24 days. After that, I won’t be back to see him. That gives me three Tuesdays to see him, minus the 12th for Graduation. So two.

    I love Poptart. I have to make the most of those last days.

    My friend Renee tells me I’m torturing myself by doing this. But I don’t care. I will do anything to be the supportive and enthusiastic friend he needs right now. Anything for him to be happy. When he’s happy, I’m happy. Even if his happiness makes things hard or unfair for me. He’s happy. And that’s something I am willing to sacrifice. Hey, if you can’t sacrifice the things that are important to you for the ones you care about, who can you sacrifice them for?

    There you have it. My gooey-mushy entry. That’s it.

    You know?

    Erin

  2. Dear Tumblr, (Day 35)

    Movies suck.

    Like MAJORLY suck.

    Because they’re lies. They’re all lies. Just catalysts setting you up for frustration and disappointment.

    Harry Potter? Disappointment. Because we can’t be wizards. Transformers? Disappointment. How likely is your vehicle to be robot-car-alien thing? Not very. And the most disappointing of all? Romance movies. Ugh.

    I had a jonesing I couldn’t ignore to look at Ryan Gossling’s delicious body without having to sit through the Notebook for the umpteenth time. Of course, because I’m a teenage girl, I’ve seen that movie so many times I can quote it from beginning to end. And I have a huuuuge celebrity crush on Ryan Gossling - delicious. Absolutely delicious. But that movie is poison; it’s like a contagion. Every girl watches that movie and while the whole process of Noah finally wooing Allie is less-than-perfect, the devotion of Noah and the whole-hearted love he feels for her, whether they like it and believe it or not, is that blasted disease. A worm that wriggles itself into your subconscious and your heart that makes you want so bad for someone to love you like he did. But that sets you up with expectations. Expectations that someday, you’ll live that semi-charmed kind of life and you’ll have a happily ever after.

    But that happily ever after doesn’t come. It just eats away at you. Turns that sliver of hope and longing in your heart into a black hole, sucking in everything, hoping for your Noah to come along to sweep you off your feet and give you the loving you deserve.

    Whatever. Anyway, I decided to forgo the Notebook for something that’d make me laugh: Crazy Stupid Love.

    What a disappointment.

    Finally, it seems like maybe, just maybe, things won’t work out to be all sunshine and rainbows. It just won’t. Wife cheats on husband, husband meets player, player teaches husband to become player, husband’s plan blows up in his face; son loves babysitter, babysitter loves husband, husband doesn’t know about babysitter’s love, babysitter tries to put out the love son feels for babysitter; daughter dumps drone beau, daughter meets player. All-in-all, it seems like a recipe for disaster; which it is. But oh no, things have to turn out great. Husband and wife get together, babysitter slightly encourages boy’s love because things might work out between them, player and daughter fall in love and eventually, then-furious husband makes peace with player. Everything works out fine. Love. Love. Love.

    But I hate this. Because how many people are going to get that fairytale ending? How many people are going to live happily ever after? And if happily ever afters existed? Where’s mine?

    It hurts so much looking at all my friends, classmates, acquaintances, strangers and I can’t help but see how different I am from them. These people who are so lively, so happy, so hopeful, so….free. And everything just comes so easy to them: partying, flirting, beauty, charm, dating. Everything I seem to be bad at. Everything I can’t do. No wonder I’m single.

    And here I am, lead astray by movies, hope ground into my heart that my happily ever after will come soon. “Maybe my circumstances at the moment aren’t right to let in my happily ever after.” “Maybe I need to work on myself before I try to get into a relationship.” “Maybe things aren’t supposed to work out with him.”

    Really? Maybe it won’t come. Maybe they don’t exist. Because maybe, a happily ever after isn’t in the cards for me. My life won’t allow a happily ever after to be given to me.

    Do you know what my future looks like? Success. Hard work and success. I’m salutatorian, I’ve been accepted to all the colleges I really wanted, and with my community service history and work ethic, I can achieve my goals - whatever they may be. I can do whatever I set my mind to. I will be successful. But I’ll be lonely. I’ll be all by myself in my thoughts, my work, and my success. It makes me not even want success if that’s what I have to look forward to.

    So screw movies. They suck. Things never work out in real life like they do in movies. So I’m done. I can’t allow myself to believe anything anymore.

    Erin

  3. Dear Tumblr, (Day 34)

    I spent the last week mentally preparing this really great post for you…but I forgot it, so I’m going to talk about this instead.

    Well, remember how jazzed I was that Poptart said ‘yes’ to be my Prom date? It was a good day. I felt so good. And all my friends got all excited that he was coming - since Poptart goes to a different school in the area - especially John. He and Poptart have this sort of heterosexual bromance going on. And Poptart was really excited to be coming, too.

    And he always talks about how he wished he went to Penns Grove. He knows so many more people and has so many more friends here - even his older brother went here. But surprisingly, Poptart didn’t. Because of where he lived, he was right on the line that divides Penns Grove and Woodstown schooling districts. Unfortunately, he just missed it and got sent to Woodstown. If he had lived next door, he’d have gone to Penns Grove. And you may be asking yourself, “Then how did his brother go to Penns Grove?” Well, we offer an Engineering Academy at my school - something his brother wanted to do. Poptart decided he’d join the Academy at the county’s Vocational school. So technically, he is a student of Woodstown, but a full-time Salem County Vocational Technical School student. Very confusing, I know. And it’s silly he went to the Biological Academy, when he also wants to go into Engineering. Why didn’t he just come to Penns Grove? That’d make sense, wouldn’t it? Men… *sigh.*

    Anyway, back to the story, we were SO excited he was coming. And tickets went on sale on Monday, so when I saw him on Tuesday, all I needed him to do was sign the permission slip (it’s required to buy a prom ticket for my school) and get me his ID. But when I talked to him, he told me he wasn’t sure if he could come with me.

    See, he moved out of his Mom’s house for his 18th birthday last Thursday. She was driving him crazy and they were fighting non-stop for the past few months and he couldn’t take it. She didn’t appreciate him and would ground him for the craziest things, like mailing his recommendation letters and leaving his phone at a friend’s house. Like what?! Who does that? But yeah, he moved out and into his grandparents’ house two towns over; like 15 minutes away, but an additional 15 minutes onto his 20-minute commute to Woodstown. And now he has to pay for everything himself: his phone bills, his gas money, and his truck insurance (which his Mom let him keep the keys to, but now has to pay for.) Though, his gas total for his truck each week is like $80 because the truck is a gas-guzzler and eating into his savings. He’s also going to two other Proms than mine: SCVTS’s and Woodstown’s. That’d be three Prom tickets, three corsages, and three tux rentals that he has to pay for with the money he saved from the job he no longer has because he was employed by his Mom. And I told him that I’d help him pay for things, because it’s my Prom, not his and this isn’t the 50’s where the guy has to pay for everything. I’m a woman and I can pay for things and I can help.

    He told me he’d think about it and talk to me on Wednesday morning. They way he acted, it felt like a yes. So I waited for the verdict and the delivery of his ID and permission slip from a mutual friend that goes to Penns Grove and is a parttime SCVTS student. Thursday night, I still hadn’t heard from him. I had texted, called, and even went as far as to message him on Facebook. I would have gone to him in person, but I don’t know where is grandparents’ house is. Which was frustrating.

    I finally got ahold of him, though. At 8:30pm on Thursday. The first time I called someone else answered his phone. The second time, it went right to voicemail. The third, he answered. And he told me he couldn’t go with me.

    Did I tell you that my school only sells Prom tickets to out-of-district students for one week? And that Poptart told me ‘No’ the night before the last day of ticket sales? And that if I didn’t find someone to go with, I’d be going alone to my Senior Prom? No? Now you know. So you can imagine my utter frustration that he didn’t tell me earlier.

    But I found a date. A friend who volunteered last minute that was cool going with me. But he’s not Poptart. And I’m MAD at Poptart. I am so upset with him. And it’s not just because of Prom. Forget Prom. It’s more than that.

    See, I thought he liked me; I thought he really liked me. But he didn’t think about asking me to either of his Proms (both SCVTS’s and Woodstown’s.) And he didn’t think twice about saying ‘Yes’ to go with me to mine. He also ditched me at the last possible moment. He procrastinated and thought that silence would be better than letting me down. He didn’t give me the decency a person ought to get to CALL me and tell me anything. Itexted. Icalled.Icalled THREE times. I’m mad.

    I’m very mad.

    But I got his hint. I’m JUST a friend. Not even a best friend, like he’s told me. Not even a good friend. If I was a good friend, he’d have asked me to be his Prom date. He wouldn’t have ditched me. HE WOULD HAVE CALLED.

    But he didn’t. So I’m cutting all ties. No texting. No calling. No pictures (I hid all of the Prom pictures around the house.) No talking unless necessary. No thinking about him. Nothing. And this Dear Tumblr entry has been the only thought I’ve allowed the past three days. Sometimes, you don’t know what you’ve got until it’s gone. Maybe he’ll see that. And maybe I’ll be able to get over my feelings for him. Maybe I won’t need him. Maybe I’ll learn to handle the emptiness in my heart and quietness of my phone until I get to college and meet new people. He hurt me and I deserve to be loved.

    He may not even realize he hurt me. I cried. But I am not telling him how I feel about this. He knows he let me down and he’ll have to face the consequences. But I am not telling him how hurt I really am. I will not give him that power over me; I’ve been humiliated enough as it is. He will not see me weak. I deserve better.

    So yeah, Tumblrdom, I’m mad. This might be the last Poptart post. I hope things will get better from here.

    Erin

  4. Dear Tumblr, (Day 33)

    I’m sorry I’ve been away for so long; nothing really…sparked my inspiration to write something. But anyway, I have something to say now.

    So I was catching up on my TV on Friday (my musical, which went swimmingly, had been taking up nearly all of my nights. And I’d just be so tired!) and I was watching Private Practice from the day before. I’m not sure how many of you watch it, or have seen it, but it seems that the TV shows I watch always know what I’m going through. The end of the episode was actually what related to me the most. See, the main character Addison always wraps up the episode by talking to her therapist about her life:

    “So I was looking at the college newsletter the other day, and there they were: Mia and Robert-something in the announcements; they’re married for twenty years. […] I think that the lesson would be not to give up, but….how did this guy know when the ‘yes’ was coming? How does anyone know when to keep going and when to just let go?”

    And that just hit me. Because I was in the exact same spot. With me and Poptart. I don’t know if a ’yes’ is on the horizon. I don’t know if we’re just doomed to live in the same gray-area for the rest of our lives. I had decided on Friday that if nothing happened with me and Poptart when he came to see my show on Saturday, I was going to let him go. I can’t live in the gray, uncertain area with him. I care about him, but this couldn’t be a one-way relationship. The deciding factor was going to be first, if he wanted to go to Prom with me, and second, whatever I could manage with the courage I mustered up for his 18th birthday on Thursday.

    So Rudy, Poptart, and I went to Applebee’s with the rest of my Honk! cast (that was the musical we did) and we hung out. And Poptart’s my Prom date. Which I could not be more thrilled about. But something we talked about just about broke my heart.

    See, his self-esteem isn’t all that high; his mother doesn’t appreciate him and constantly fights with him and puts him down, and coming from the folksy rancher background, he can’t really take a real look at himself like everyone else does. And someone he always compares himself to is the guy who plays my husband in the show, (let’s call him Curtis) Curtis. Now Curtis has this very outgoing personality and he’s pretty funny and I would say that he has a nice, cute face. But. But Curtis’ sense of humor can be a little abrasive and crude. Sometimes, he just doesn’t know when to stop and takes things too far. Poptart only sees his…popularity, I guess you’d call it. He says that Curtis always people laughing at his jokes and getting a ridiculous quantity of feedback on his Facebook and Twitter posts and he’s just obnoxious enough to ride the line between hilarious and rude. Poptart said that no one likes nice guys anymore; all they want his boisterous, comical, slightly cruel guys. Poptart yearns for the adoration of people like Curtis seems to have. It’s his middle-child complex, you know?

    Anyway, both Rudy and I (and some of the friends I told) were like “Whaaaaaaaaaat??!” because it’d be a true tragedy to lose a guy like Poptart. He really doesn’t know how attractive and amazing he is. Poptart can only base Curtis’ popularity on the things he posts on Facebook (which Curtis has a system to: he only posts outrageous or hilarious things and if they don’t get much feedback, he deletes it) and the girls that he always hangs around (and whilst Curtis is a Senior, they are predominately Freshman girls and he hangs around with them because they all go to the same youth group, share the same slightly cruel sense of humor, and probably rely on him for a ride to places.)

    And Rudy and I tried to reason with Poptart. You never see any girl with an intent to date Curtis. He has actually only dated one girl. He’s funny and a reasonable friend, but his semi-abrasive personality sort of gives off an undateable vibe and no one questions it. Poptart, on the other hand, has nearly every female that sees him smitten. Forreal. I was the envy of almost every girl I talked to last year at Prom because he was my date. And again, all the girls at Applebee’s told me how adorable he was. Even the mom of the kid who played my son in the show found him attractive. I’m not even kidding. And it was strange, really. At Applebee’s, I was eating and chatting with Poptart, when an 8th grade girl that was in the show came up to me and gave me an awkward fist bump for a great final show. And then she looked to my right and was like, “Oh heeeeeeey, Poptart. ;)” and the two other girls she had in tow literally, LITERALLY, swooned. I knew they weren’t coming over to wish me a congratulations, but to see Poptart. We (Rudy and I) pointed that out to him, but it didn’t sway him. His response was, “Oh great. Now I can have all the jailbait I want.” Not cool.

    But still, he wasn’t satisfied with the wonderful person he was. Every girl may seem to go after a “bad boy”, but we know that they really want the sweet, caring, attractive, romantic boys. And it’s true, I almost felt my heart breaking in two when we talked about this. And I know I’m dribbling; when it comes to Poptart, I can’t help it.

    And still, I am in the gray area with him. It’s hard, you know. He usually seems like he likes me, but doesn’t do anything else about it. And I try and try to do something to make SOMETHING of a relationship…but alas, to no clear avail. Though, I do say that one of my friends who are typically narcissistic about my pursuit of Poptart surprised me by saying not to give up hope. When Curtis plopped down at our table and leaned over Poptart to do a funny nose-rub picture with me, Poptart looked maaaaaaad jealous. So maybe there’s hope.

    I guess this is where the Private Practice quote comes in to play. I was ready to give up. But a person who has been encouraging me to move on, suddenly about-faces to encourage me to keep my hope. Maybe something will come out of this. Maybe not. I hope so.

    Wow, this is really long.

    The End. :D

    Erin.

  5. Dear Tumblr, (Day 32)

    So, I feel like I’ve just been drawing blanks for topics to write about lately…so I’m going to tell you about my wicked weird dream last night. >:)

    So…

    In my dream, I’m in this sort of mall-thing, but it’s cool because I lived there with a bunch of other people. And I got really bored. So, eventually, I tried to amuse myself by thinking that I could do anything if I believed it.

    I decided to test it out on a mirrored window that lined the walls of the “mall.” I pressed my hands to it and said “Believe. Believe. Beeeeellliiiiieeeeeevvvveeeee!” And then, the mirror turned into the consistancy of a pillow or soft plastic and I pushed my way through the mirror. I ended up in a store on the other side of the window. IT WAS AWESOME!

    Then, a met a homely, sad, lonely little girl. She hated who she was and just kept crying. I couldn’t stand to see her like that, so I magically turned her into a mermaid! She was thrilled about that. Then I pushed her through a mirrored window so that she could escape and be happy.

    After that, I started to get a little frivolous with my window-morphing powers. I decided to prove my coolness to some “popular guys” and push my way into through the windows of the “Head Super” man’s office. He’s high in power and a scary, muscular, bald guy. But he was out at the time, so it was less scary and more thrilling. I got in and the guys followed me in through the “portal” I had made. I sat on the couch, but all of a sudden it felt HOT. I was sweating! I scrambled to get his iPad and try to find the app to turn down the temperature (which is weird because I am NOT an Apple person.)

    All of a sudden, the Head Super walks in his office! We all panic and he runs after the boys who are behind his desk. I go back to the window and start shouting “BELIEVEBELIEVEBELIEVEBELIEVE!” until my hands went through the glass and I could escape. I ran and ran, but the Head Super was catching up to me! I tried to fake him out by pretending to run into a store, then hid and he ran in.

    I bolted and sprinted to the opposite side of the mall. I tried to find a hidden window. There was one behind a house with a large mirrored window in the back. An old woman was looking at me and came towards me. She said “I know your gift. And I can do it too.” She morphed the window and walked inside her house. Then, she turned around and poked her head out from the portal to talk to me.

    She said “Hurry! I can hear him coming!” so I whirled around and pressed my hands to the window and said “Believe! Believebelievebelieve!!” but before I could focus enough for the glass to morph, a strong hand gripped my arm and spun me around. When I turned, I could see the old woman with her head through the morphed glass. But her terror of the Head Super and her fear for me distracted her and made the glass solidify, trapping her head in the glass. I watched as her airway got cutoff by the glass and killed her.

    Then, I tore my arm from the Head Super’s grasp and screamed “BELIEVEBELIEVEBELIEVE!” and opened a hole big enough for me to crawl through. I leaped through it, but he caught my leg and my hip got sliced open with a shard of now-solid glass. Then, the glass exploded and I woke up.

    The End.

    :)

    I’m not weird, I swear….

    Erin

  6. Dear Tumblr, (Day 31)

    So. Just thought I’d update you, dear Tumblrdom, on the status of my relationship as of Valentine’s Day. I told you about my big plans, right? Well, here’s what happened.

    I pulled a Holden Caulfield (Catcher in the Rye.)

    I’m all talk and no game. Because I chickened out. First, I was going to tell Poptart how I felt about him to his face. But then I got nervous and wrote a note instead and put it in his bag of cakeballs. Then, before I saw him, I took the note out, regaining my courage…then lost it on the ride to see him. As I walked through the door, I decided not to tell him at all. But in the end, it made no difference, because he wasn’t even there. His mom had made him stay home and work on “college stuff.” He was livid. And yeah, so was I.

    So I’m still single.

    But guess who isn’t? My ex. It’s our one-year single-versary and he has changed his relationship status.

    Am I mad? No. It’s time he found someone and stopped harassing me and my sister for information on me. And he can stop trying to flirt with me when I accidentally run into him at Mo’Joe’s while waiting for my chai tea. He can move on.

    Am I sad? No. I’m a little put-out that I’m still single, but I’m fine. I am going AWAY to college and meeting new guys, I have a summer job where I’ll meet new guys, and I still have a chance with Poptart. So no, I’m not sad. And I won’t sabotage their relationship, like other exes. I’m good.

    Am I jealous? HA, no. I creeped a bit…and she is UGLY. Downgrade, forreal. But they’re happy. And she is in to all the things he is that I wasn’t. Like anime, cos-play (I believe it’s called), Cartoon Network, video games (the most I can boast is the Wii. I’m like, inept in video games, but I’ll try!), and Pokemon. They make a good pair. I was Bob’s (that’s what I called him, right?) better half, and she is his equal. In any case, she can be his new chauffeur. He’s two years older than her and he can’t drive. At least it takes the awkward “date pressure” off his dad, like when we were dating (don’t blame me. He was old enough for a license. I was 14-turning-15 and 15-turning-16.)

    So, Valentine’s Day…I spent it at school and at play, but it wasn’t too horrible. I’ll get my chance in the future.

    Bob and new-girl. Good luck. Especially you, new-girl. You might need it.

    Erin

  7. Dear Tumblr, (Day 30)

    So Valentine’s Day is fast approaching. But you know that already. And - ugh - this year will be hard. Some time this month a year ago, I broke up with my boyfriend. Which makes this my one-year single-versary. That may not seem all that important or pitiful, but when you’re within a hair’s breadth of the person you really want to be with, it’s impressive.

    So in honour of my one-year single-versary, I’ve decided to forgo having only one Valentine and make all my friends my Valentine. And give them Red Velvet Cakeballs.

    But I really wish that I had someone special to spend my Valentine’s Day with. All of these people on Twitter - especially Devil - are complaining about being #foreveralone. Frankly, it’s getting on my nerves. Most people are alone this Valentine’s Day. It happens. And it’s not like this one day is the ONLY day that all athese people are single. Everyone knows it’s hard. And Devil, we know you hate being single. Everyone in the entire world of Tumblr AND Twitter know that you hate it. And nobody cares anymore. You had a wonderful person in your clutches, who cared for you whole-heartedly. He was honest in his feelings and never led you on. He did everything he could to make you feel like you were happy and felt special and that you felt that you were beautiful. He turned me down…for you. But that’s wasn’t good enough, was it? Apparently this new guy who turned youdown was better. But he isn’t. True, new-guy is nice, but he isn’t Poptart. And now Poptart is alone on Valentine’s Day.

    But I’m not being righteous. I know I’ve turned down a guy in my midst of being single and pursuit of a relationship. But you see - let’s call him…Matt - Matt and I wouldn’t have worked out. Matt and I have known each other since second grade, when I sat next to him in class and he always helped me clean up my frequently exploding crayon box. I think of him as a brother, but that’s it - just a brother. And although his intentions were sweet, I didn’t feel special. I knew Matt very well, and he was desperate for a girlfriend; so desperate, I knew I wasn’t the first person he had tried to convince that day. Talk about romantic. And my suspicions were confirmed when I heard three other girls talking about how Matt tried to ask them out. I still love him and all, but not romantically.

    But despite all of that, I have tried to settle my bitterness. I’ve settled my dispute with my last boyfriend; it’s still uncomfortable when we run into each other at Mo’Joe’s, but I don’t regret our relationship. And I’ve settled my dispute with Devil; she no longer has anything I need or want. I’m not intentionally cold to her. I only can only stick up for Poptart, which continues my frustration in her insensitivity.

    But honestly, I’m just happy that my last boyfriend and I are civil now. The first time we broke up, I was so livid, my head was literally on fire for eight months. But for the past year, I haven’t been mad. I haven’t been cold. I haven’t hated him. In fact, I’m thankful for him. Without him, I’d never have grown so close to Poptart. And I’m thankful for that.

    But Valentine’s Day, I will be alone.

    Or will I?

    See, Valentine’s Day will be the day my life implodes; the day I get my second chance. I’m telling Poptart that my feelings haven’t subsided. With me, it’s all or nothing. For so long, I’ve been afraid to tell him that I still care about him. I’ve been afraid that if he doesn’t want me, I’d lose him entirely. But I can’t wait any longer. My senior year is winding down and there are only a few short months before I leave for my summer job and for college. Then I will have blown my chances. Tuesday, it’ll be the day that determines it all. I can’t last being in the “friend zone” any longer because it’s really unhealthy for me.

    If he really feels the way he is acting towards me, he won’t let me go. But I’m not going to go crazy. I’m going to tell him how I feel, kiss him on the cheek, then leave and not text him at all. That way, everything is being put into his hands and he can determine what he wants to happen without being put on the spot.

    But it’s all up to him. It always has been.

    This is my last chance.

    Dear God, I hope this wasn’t done in vain.

    We’ll see Tuesday.

    Wish me luck!

    Erin. :)

  8. I. WANT. HIM. NOW. <3333

  9. Dear Tumblr, (Day 29)

    You know what? I just can’t take it anymore. I have to speak out about it.

    SINCE WHEN DID PEOPLE STOP CARING ABOUT RELATIONSHIPS?!

    And by relationships, I mean the romantic ones. It’s true; people have stopped caring.

    Back in the 1800s and prior, in order to be in a relationship with someone, they had to go through an elaborate courting process, and YES. I MEAN COURTING. The man would have to go to the parents of the girl he intended to date to get their permission to start courting her. Then, they would date (with a chaperone, of course,) for many months, sometimes even years. And there would be real feelings between the couple. They’d honestly care for each other. They would be whole-heartedly in love. …Except in the instance of an arranged marriage, but that’s a totally different story, dear Tumblr.

    Nowadays, all I see is people who don’t appreciate a relationship. And it drives me crazy. Just the other day, I saw a boy making out with a girl at school (gross, by the way. Erin doesn’t not approve of sloppy public displays of affection. I don’t feel comfortable making out in public and neither should they. Ew.) but they aren’t together; they aren’t in a relationship. Apparently, they’re just people who flirt and kiss, but feel nothing towards each other. It’s wrong. And people do it every single day. They have sex with people they barely know, not because they care about each other, but because, hey, if they feel like it, they will!

    I guess I’m a romantic. I like the courting process. I like the feeling of knowing that the guy I am dating is with me because he likes me and enjoys my company and wants to be with me, not because I’m hot and easy and can give in to his every whim. I don’t want to be the person he fools around with because I’m there and he needs someone to be there to hold him over until he finds someone better than me. I need the assurance that he is here to be with me. To be in a relationship with me. And I don’t feel like I need my guy to be the alpha male and always insist on driving and paying for meals and such. It has to be a marriage of responsibilities and feelings. It has to be equal. You have to feel SOMETHING for the other person, for goodness sakes!

    Actually, I think relationships should be based on KNOWINGS not FEELINGS. Everyone has feelings, but before you jump into a relationship, you ought to have a knowing. Like with me. I don’t have FEELINGS for Poptart. I have KNOWINGS. I know that not only do I care for him, but I know that he is able to be my best friend and the guy of my dreams at the same time. I know that he thinks of me as his bestfriend, too. See, you can’t just feel your way into a relationship. You have to step boldly into it knowing that you actually have your heart in what you’re planning on doing.

    I guess that’s why I’m still single.

    But I don’t care. If I’m going to have to fool around with guys that mean nothing to me in order to feel good about myself and have some intimate interaction, then I’d rather be single.

    It just isn’t worth compromising my integrity and morals in order to have someone pay attention to me.

    Remember that, dear Tumblrdom. You’re worth more than someone to fool around with. You deserve a proper relationship.

    Erin.

  10. I wonder if anyone actually reads my blog… :/

  11. Dear Tumblr, (Day 28)

    I come from two early bird parents. My dad isn’t as enthusiastic about it as my mom is, but they are typically dead to the world at night. My dad is out by 7 and my mom, the LATEST by 9. But me, no way. I hate mornings. I’d rather wake up at 10:30 and go to bed at 1:00 am. I’m a night owl. I love it. But things aren’t as bright and shiny at night as they are in the daytime.

    Here’s the situation:

    Though I like being up late, I get sad and lonely at night. During the daytime, I see friends, I talk to people, I laugh, I joke, I’m happy. At night though, it’s just me. Everyone’s asleep, so I’m all alone. And I realize how utterly alone I am. I know it’s no big deal and that people have gone through worse, but as of next month, I will have been single exactly a year. And that’s a long time for me.

    I’m not saying I’m regretting breaking up with my ex - believe me, I am glad to be rid of him - but I’m just so sad to be alone.

    I know that women are supposed to be more…more empowered than I’m making myself out to be. I know I don’t need a man in my life to be happy. I know that I need to be able to function comfortably on my own before getting into a relationship. If I were to be in a relationship, I should not be needy and dependent on the guy in my life. It wouldn’t have been right of me. And I have learned to be self-sufficient. I’ve spent a year by myself to make myself as strong as I should be.

    But I’ve developed needs in my time alone. I need someone that I can talk to when I feel sad and who will cheer me up. I need someone who can make me laugh until I cry. I need someone who will make an effort to see me because they want to be with me. I need someone to hold me. I can’t be alone anymore. While I am self-sufficient, I can’t fulfill all my needs by myself. I’m just not that strong.

    My friend and I were talking to our Calculus teacher, Mr. Lower - a man so awesome, he doesn’t require a codename. Mr. Lower is the perfect mix of educator and friend, with the skills of Jaime Escalante and the face of the snowy-haired ”Most-Interesting-Man-in-the-World.” He’s the teacher that whenever the National Honors Society Induction Ceremony rolls around, he always gets the most, typically 5 or more, ”Most Influential Teacher” nominations. Lower is always there when you need help in a class, a person to talk to, or a shoulder to cry on. When asked, he comes to everyone’s plays, everyone’s sporting events, he’d write everybody a college reccomendation letter, and he happily plays Santa at every one of our National Honors Society’s Pancake Breakfasts in December. But anyway, me and my friend were talking to Lower and my friend was saying that her boyfriend was really helping her focus on her Calculus work and that whenever she needs help, she always runs to him.

    Well, don’t I feel salty. 11 months rocking the single badge. I can’t run to anyone. But Lower says that I don’t need a boyfriend. That I am a spectacular and BUSY girl without a man in my life. He may not see it, but I do. It’s not that I want a boyfriend, it’s that I need someone that I care for and who cares for me as much as I do him to help fill the voids in my heart that I can’t fill myself.

    Valentine’s Day is going to suck.

    I’ve decided that in honour of my one year single-versary, that I’m making Red Velvet cakeballs for all my friends. They’re all going to be my Valentines. Even Poptart. (Besides. He’s got a soft spot for my cakeballs. ;) )

    So yeah.

    Kinda sucks being alone.

    I hope things will start to look up soon.

    Erin.

  12. Dear Tumblr, (Day 27.5)

    (This is as close as I can remember to what I wrote last night.)

    So I was sitting here, watching the Golden Globes, when that question came to me. That nagging, annoying question. The question everyone has. The “What if?” question. Anyways, I’m sitting here, watching, the Golden Globes, when I think, ‘What if, some day, I was that important?’ ‘What if someday, that was me?’

    Have you ever had a dream? A dream for yourself that you think has been fine-tuned to fit you? A dream to be whatever you wanted to be because you are passionate about it? Passion drives your dreams, you know.

    Poptart has a similar dream. His dream is to be an international spy. Go ahead; laugh. But be reasonable: since when is a dream rational? Poptart is just so passionate about being a spy, though. It’s not the killing or the secrets or the guns or practically non-existant personal life that draws him in. He’s excited about going on missions, the neat gadgets, seeing the world, and most importantly, feeling like he’s important. Poptart has told me occasionally about how he feels unimportant, and I understand that his dream of being a spy gives him a chance to be super cool and have a purpose, but not flaunt it. He’s really modest, so going about, telling everyone, “HEY! I’M A SPY! I CATCH BAD PEOPLE!” isn’t something he’d probably do. And I guess it’s a good thing I gave Poptart that codename, because otherwise, if he actually became a spy, I will have blown his cover. You’d all know his name. Bad Erin, BAD! But Erin’s my real name. …just saying.

    And I also have a dream like Poptart’s. No, not to be a spy; something different. I want to be an famous actress. I see all these people on tv and in movies and sometimes, I think “Wow. I could do a better acting job than them.” That’s one perk of being such a character and having my personality. You can act reeeeally convincingly. I think it also stems from my high school play director. He instills in us a passion for our shows (whether the show is funny, serious, or stupid) and we learn to believe our lines. We believe that what our lines say, that is what is really happening. We’re not a character in the play; the play is real life. I want to someday be on tv. I want people to know my name and smile, because they like what I do.

    But what am I saying? I’m being foolish. There must be thousands of people who migrate to movie capitols, spend all their time, energy, and money on agents and petty casting calls, only to end up a diner waitress for their whole life, never making it where they want to be. And I’m pretty sure that the FBI doesn’t go bopping along, plucking random high school boys off the east coast to be international spies. We aspiring-actresses end up settling for your rational top-choice profession: psychologists, and that aspiring-spy? He become some sort of brilliant engineer. We don’t become what we want to be.

    It just doesn’t happen.

    But who’s to say, maybe, it won’t happen?

    Who is to say that maybe, that aspiring-actress puts her dream on a short pause? She goes to college, graduates, and becomes a fantastic psychologist. Maybe, she’ll move to Los Angeles or Hollywood or (god help me,) New York. She’ll set up shop there with a little clinic, doing her craft. Maybe, she’ll save up her money from her job to pay for an agent. Maybe, she’ll find an audition, and maybe, she’ll get a call-back. Maybe. Maybe, her dream will come true, but delayed a few years. Maybe. And maybe, the same sort of thing can happen to Poptart. I’m not sure how people go about becoming spies, but who is to say he won’t become one? It may not be the way we expected, but it could happen!

    Dear Tumblrdom, I have a dream. I do. Sometimes, I feel a little put out, because my dream seems unattainable, but it could happen!

    Maybe, someday, you WILL see me on the Golden Globes.

    Maybe.

    I have dream.

    Do you?

    Erin.

    P.S. Does anyone else find it ironic that my Dear Tumblr entry is about having “a dream” and it’s Martin Luther King, Jr. Day? :)

  13. Dear Tumblr, (Day 27)

    I just spent an hour and 15 minutes writing a brilliant ‘Dear Tumblr,’ entry. It was beautiful. And I poured everything into it. And then, my computer faltered as I posted it. And I lost it. It’s all gone.

    Dear Tumblrdom, I wrote something for you. But I’m sorry. I just can’t rewrite it right now.

    Tomorrow, I will.

    I’m sorry.

    I’m sorry that it will be a ghost of what I previously wrote. I’m sorry that you won’t be able to experience exactly what I thought when I wrote it.

    I’m sorry.

    Erin

  14. Dear Tumblr, (Day 26)

    So I’ve decided to add two more resolutions to my list.

    *Lose some lbs.

    Yeah, so no big deal, but I need to lose some weight. I can’t give a number (that’s a woman’s secret) but I need to lose…enough. It’s kinda driving me crazy. All of my friends are these skinny little things. They’re all under 130 pounds! Girls AND guys! Makes me want to shoot myself in the face. God…Poptart, Adam, Eve, John, Jane…EVEN DEVIL. I feel like such a loser. The crazy thing is I don’t look my weight. Everything has settled fairly decently, but the large number is still there. I’m good at masking it. But…masking it isn’t enough. And I’m going away to college in the fall. I need to be in tip-top shape. I want to be slim and attractive enough to feel good about myself. Ugh.

    Side note: Day two of Quiet Diet has been so-so. I went to the movies today and had some candy and soda. And when I got home, I broke down and had two cookies. Baaaad, Erin. BAAAAAD! But I’ll be better once school starts up again. I can give my sweets to John. He needs some plumping anyhow. :)

    *Talk about Poptart less

    So apparently, according to Eve, I talk about Poptart waaaaaay too much. And she’s getting annoyed. Which I think is total crap. True, I talk about him often, but just as much as I talk about Jena or any of my other close friends. They’re important. I’m going to talk about them. But Eve’s just had this bug up her bum for a while. Honestly, I think she’s got this Judy Attitude-y thing going on because her and Adam are having problems again. Adam is a nice guy, but he’s got some serious flaws. For one, he’s very controlling; Eve isn’t allowed to wear tight-fitting or clothes that hit above the knee. He thinks that Eve is his and that only he can see her body. Like he’s scared that some guy will look at her and she’s be daffy enough to cheat on him. As if that isn’t the pot calling the kettle black, considering he cheated on her TWICE. And nothing gets resolved between them because as soon as Adam gets mad or upset, he shuts down and stops talking. Won’t say a word; just fumes. So, yeah. I think they’re having problems and since she sees me being so happy and lovestruck she’s annoyed that she doesn’t feel like that anymore. One of my friends told me that Eve is so confused as to why I continue hoping that Poptart might change his mind towards me. What? Can’t I hope? But again: pot calling kettle black. When she and Adam began, she turned Adam down several times! She kept telling him that she didn’t like him and that she just wanted to be friends. Then she changed her mind and was as pleased as punch to be together (until the cheating, of course.) So I guess I’m going to stop talking about Poptart, but she should just hop off my case and get Adam to work out their problems instead of taking it out on me. I don’t deserve it.

    Good luck with your own resolutions, dear Tumblrdom!

    Erin.

  15. Dear Tumblr, (Day 25)

    I want 2012 to be better. Way better than 2011.

    Things have been tough this year. I want things to be better next year. 5 days until 2012. They can’t come soon enough. Mark my words, I will make this year better.

    In 2012, I will:

    *Graduate
    *Turn 18
    *Go to college
    *Get my first job
    *Find a good boyfriend
    *Keep said boyfriend
    *Make sure new boyfriend isn’t a dud. Or a creep.
    *Stop making stupid lists
    *Stop being so pathetic
    *Be happy
    *Be better.

    Tall order, yes I know. But it can happy. God, there aren’t enough words to describe how horrible last year was.

    Not anymore.

    I’m a big girl. I can change things if I put my heart into it.

    I can do it.

    Just watch.

    Erin.

About me

"What if the sanest people you know aren't so sane after all?"

So on September 12, 2011 I started a Dear Tumblr diary. For security purposes, specific details are vague and names are changed, but not to worry! It's still the great blog I hope you'll believe it to be!

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