Heartless

Maybe I'm the one that's heartless
Maybe I'm the one that's cruel
Maybe I'm not the victim after all
Maybe I'm the teacher in this school
The times that i thought it mattered
Yet you reminded me you didn't care
The great memories of a fantasy I lived
Moments we never actually shared
The blank stare in your eyes says it all
You're speechless once again
Can't offer me time, love, or affection
Just a meager, "you're still my friend?"
Your chest is empty
And my eyes are bone dry
Even after everything
It's clearly hopeless for you and I
Pass the blame, it's time now
To decide who let it go
To decide who tried to express their feelings
And who didn't care to know.
I tried to share it with you
Let my love free like a horse from it's harness
I knew you weren't ready and I didn't care
So maybe I'm the one that's heartless

Here I Stand

Here I stand
Oblivious to the pain
Yet very aware of the emotions
That make other's eyes rain

Here I stand
Wishing there was more
But unable to force things
To be like they were before

Here I stand
In the weakest of states
Unable to remain composed in your presence
We all make mistakes

Here I stand
Still reeling from it all
Still wishing there was something
Still wishing I didn't fall

Here I stand
Alone without you
Wondering what would have happened
If we could've made it through

Here I stand
Unable to move
Yet unable to stay
With a love that isn't proved

Here I stand.

Hard To Let Go

Who knew it would be this hard to let go
Who knew that I would still care so
Who knew when we met that I would care so much
Who knew that I would long for your touch
For your presence near me, your voice in my ear
Your breath on my skin, my heart beats when you're near
Who knew that I would be hurt so bad
Who knew that you would make me so sad
Who knew that I would get this involved
Who knew that I wouldn't see it coming all along
I didn't want this
I didn't ask for this
I was fine before I met you
Now what do I do
We are not meant to be
But so badly I want you with me
Even though I know we would never work
In my dreams you still lurk
You remain in my thoughts
Remain in my dreams
Reminiscing on our time together
Everything reminds me of you it seems
I want to let go
Believe me I try
Just the thought of you
Makes me want to cry
I didn't think it would be this hard
This hard to walk away
Didn't think I would be so hurt
And left with so many words to say
I brought this on myself
Better than this I should know
But I didn't realize when I held on
How hard it would be to let go...

I had the weirdest dream last night. I have dreams most nights of the week. Some are short, some are long, some about people I know, most are silly. I forget many of them as soon as I wake up. This one was different though. This dream was weird! Almost a nightmare. So bizarre, that I woke up and wrote down the entire thing.

****************
I was wearing a white, halter-top wedding dress standing in some sort of room. Both guys and girls were bustling about. I was just standing there, maybe looking in a mirror, and all of the sudden I started freaking out.

I realized, for what felt like the first time, I didn't want to get married!

I began going over the reasons in my head: I had just met him. My parents weren't there, my friends weren't there. I didn't plan to come to Atlanta (?) and meet someone and get married. I thought to myself, I can just get married now because all the people are here and then get divorced later. Then I shook that thought out of my head. No, it's better to end this before the wedding than after the wedding even if it is my wedding day. When I get married I want to be married for good and not get divorced.

I turned and asked a passer-by for my engagement ring and that person handed it to me. I slipped the ring onto my middle finger. "Wrong finger." I laughed, pulling the ring off. The person looked at me strangely as I pushed the ring down on my ring finger. The diamond shined up at me but I noted that it was the type of engagement ring I hated -- diamond solitaire. Yuck. This isn't what I wanted.

I sighed and looked around. All these people were in the room helping me get ready (fixing my hair and putting on my makeup) and I was letting them help me while I kept thinking to myself that I didn't think I should get married. I told one girl that I was calling off the wedding because I couldn't go through with it. It was too much. It was too fast. I walked up to another girl, gripping her arm and whispering frantically, telling her the same thing. I gave them my reasons and kept adding more. In fact, when I was talking to the last girl it dawned on me that I didn't even know if he was married to someone else. I tried to remember if he had a wife and kids. For some reason, I felt like he did.

“Where is Brad?” I began asking people in the room. They said he had just walked past the room we were in. “Did he see me?” I asked urgently. Someone said yes and I said, "Dang that's bad luck!" Then I thought to myself, oh well I'm calling off the wedding anyway.
I stopped to take pictures with friends because I figured even if I didn't go through with the wedding, I wanted to remember how pretty I looked.

I kept thinking to myself, I've got to call this off right now. I asked one of the guys where Brad was and he pointed out to the field. Immediately, I ran out of the room, outside and down the porch steps. For a second, I could see myself, fully decked out in my wedding dress with my hair and makeup intact. I was holding the length of my dress at my sides so I could run. I was running out into the field where tons of guys were throwing a football around.

I saw the back of a white man with super curly hair. He was dressed in a white button down shirt, black dress pants and an open black vest. There he is, I thought to myself. I started screaming Brad's name. The man turned around and I stopped abruptly, startled to realize this man was not Brad. I don't even know what he looks like from behind I moaned to myself.

Then I turned and to my relief, there was Brad. He easily caught the football gliding toward him. He spotted me and grinned. He was cute, brown-skinned, about 6'8 (he had to bend down to hug me) and was dressed in jeans and a long sleeve camel colored shirt. He is wearing jeans. I was irritated at the thought, but ignored it because of what I was about to say. Brad seemed pleased to see me in my wedding dress and after he hugged and kissed me on the cheek, he stood there grinning at me. I barreled on.

"We can't get married." The words fell out of my mouth. His smile faded. He was gripping the football looking at me like I was crazy.

"What? Why not?" He asked me.

"I'm sorry. This just isn't a good idea.” I said.

He put his head down, I tipped his head up to look at me and went on telling with my explanations, "My mom isn't here. My dad isn't here. My best friends aren't here. I didn't expect to come to Atlanta and get married. I don't even know if you're married. I don't even know what you look like from behind."

"Huh?" I lost him at the last reason.

I tried to explain, "Before, when I was looking for you, I thought someone else was you and it wasn't and I realized that I can't recognize you from behind....never mind. I know we’re not, but just feel like we're eloping. I can't go through with this. I'm so sorry."

Then he started giving me all these reasons for us to get married. He was trying to change my mind. I was growing more annoyed by the second. "I was just out here and I was just going to catch this football then run in there and marry you." He looked at me with sadness in his eyes.

"I'm sorry." I said weakly.

And then I thought to myself, This is why brides run away with no explanation. Here I am trying to be nice and give some sort of explanation and he is trying to talk me out of it! I could’ve just run away and just left a note for someone to take to him at the altar. But I wouldn't do that because I would die if someone did that to me. I always want an explanation. But if I would’ve known it would have turned out like this then I would have just got into a cab or in a limo with my friends and been the runaway bride. Oh wait, my friends aren't here. Are black girls ever runaway brides anyway?

He was still staring at me when I turned and walked away.

I felt like a weight had been lifted and I thought to myself, I'm glad I got out of that. I did not want to get married right now. Who's going to tell the guests? I guess he will
Then I woke up.

****************
I have no idea what any of that means (if anything at all). I am soooo weirded out.

The weirdest parts of my dream are that my “finacee” had a name yet I don’t know anyone named Brad (with the exception of one of my bosses at CNN and Brad Pitt haha). And there were tons of people, I knew everyone but I didn’t recognize any of the faces as people that I know now.

My mom had a pretty good interpretation that I am mostly satisfied with but I am still mulling this one over.

Whatever that dream means, one thing is clear. I need to stop watching chick-flicks, reading chick-lit and reading women’s magazines for a while ‘cause, clearly, my head is a mess.

The Last Battle

The struggle is over
The words, they've come and gone
The lies that I told myself
While I insisted to hold on
Have been replaced by the truth
As inconvenient as it may be
There is nothing left
No hope left for you and me
I wanted to talk to you
But didn't know what to say
And what is the point of trying
When your eyes give it away
They beg me to walk away
So there is no reason for me to stay
Why endure one more day
Of my heart in disarray?
Remember when we hoped
Remember when we believed
Remember when we tried
Oh wait that was all just me
Caught up in a fantasy
Drowning in self-imposed misery
Wanting and waiting for something that could never be
Who remains locked inside misery
While simultaneously holding the key
Again, that would be me
So the struggle is over
I surrender, I give in
I lose...
...You win.

Letter to Him

Dear Trump,

I guess I should start off by telling you that I lied. I lied about not believing in unrequited love. Because I am definitely in love with you – and I know the feelings aren’t mutual. I run the risk of sounding insecure, desperate, and needy (and I am none of those things), but I want to know why. I want to know why you don’t feel the same way about me. I want to know what you’re looking for that I don’t have. I’m pretty. I’m smart. I have standards. I like you a lot. I know I’m not a perfect 10, but I know that I could love you perfectly.

I have tried everything imaginable to get you to like me. From ignoring you to having sex with you. Nothing at all has ever worked and I don’t understand why. I don’t understand what you want or what you’re looking for, but apparently I don’t have that. I love you. I love your hair, your eyebrows, your voice, your walk, the space between your shoulders. I love your condo, your chair (with the O State blanket). I love your kitchen and your truck. I love your phone and your soft headboard (lol). I love your long sleeved shirts and the fact that you have two televisions in your living room. I love your phone number. I love the way you say my name Aliisssssa. LOL. I love every little thing about you. Even the parts of you that any sane girl would hate (ie. your womanizing ways lol). I think that everything about you is wonderful. Well almost everything

I hate that you don’t feel the same way about me. I hate that you don’t think about me and want to call me and visit me and be with me. I hate how you make me feel ugly, insecure and stupid. I hate that you won’t even give me a chance to be your girlfriend. I know that’s my own fault for getting involved with a man like you. But YOU KNOW WHAT, I got involved. I fell. Hard as ever and I am just hanging on for dear life hoping that maybe one day, maybe you would care and want to be with just me. I long for the day when you take me in your arms and kiss me unsolicited and say, “Alissa, I love you.” and mean it. That would mean the world to me.

Will I find another guy like you? Maybe, hopefully. But I can’t see that happening because you are the epitome of what I want in a man – except I do wish you were a Christian like me. But, I love you, I love you and I love you. I hate that you seem to not really care about me. You jerk me around like a crazy person. Or maybe you don’t. Maybe it’s my own hope that keeps me hanging on. Maybe you don’t encourage me at all. Doubtful. You talked to me all night on the phone TWICE. Who can you talk to that way? For that long? No one right? What is wrong with me that you don’t want to be with me?

I hate when you compliment me because it seems so insincere. Every time you say how great I am, I want to scream: THEN WHY DON’T YOU WANT TO BE WITH ME? That’s my major question. If I am so smart and together and have swag or whatever, then why in the world don’t you want me to be your girlfriend? I cannot and will not ever understand that. You break my heart. And I stick around. I guess a part of me still wants to be there if you ever do come around. But I will be devastated if I wait around and you never show up. I need to leave you alone. I seriously do. This is a fantasy that is never going to happen. Right? What do you feel? Could you please tell me? Do you feel anything at all? Do you want to be with me at all? Is there any part of you that likes me a lot? Could you love me one day?

I’ve cried over you, I’ve written about you, I’ve thought about you, I’ve talked about you. All till I am blue in the face. I’m borderline obsessed with you. Your not loving me drives me insane!!! I want to jump up and down screaming: pick me! Pick me! When you settle down, pick me!!! I’m right here!

You would make me the happiest woman in the world and I would try my best to make you the happiest man. But if I don’t have a chance with you, then please, allow me to get over you and LEAVE ME ALONE. Thanks

Alissa

November 21, 2008

Mr. Big

I've come to the conclusion that Mr. Big is a jerk.

I like Sex and the City. I think Carrie Bradshaw's character is hilarious and she is enough like me to keep me interested, but not enough like me to make me hate the show. Of course, I frown upon all the sex they have. I mean, sheesh! That's pretty gross. Beyond that, it's a great show that I think that any woman who deals with men can relate to.

I especially like the story about Carrie and Mr. Big. Mr. Big reminds me of Trump. Older, attractive and independent. Of course Trump is much, much cuter than Mr. Big and also much younger, but there are some personality resemblances that I've noticed. Mr. Big dates Carrie though which is a difference between me and Trump, but I'll let that detail slide for now. Besides,
as I said,

Mr. Big is a jerk.

He treats Carrie sooooo mean! I don't need that or want that in my life at all. For all his wonderful qualities and all the times he has actually showed Carrie some sort of affection in return, he also did her soooo wrong. And that's why I think that happy endings hardly make up for terrible middles. If you know what I'm saying.

I used to say I want someone like Mr. Big. But I realized that I don't. I don't want to be with a jerk like that. I hope that if Trump ever does open his heart to me, that will be it and it won't be a continuous heart-shattering runaround like Big did with Carrie. I mean, come on. Everytime I watch that show, I want to strangle him -- and her for that matter.

Love shouldn't be that hard. Guys shouldn't be that mean and girls shouldn't be that needy. I have to admit that Carrie was doing way too much at times, but then again she was thirty-something and getting a little desperate.

There is a part of me that is willing to endure all things just for a happy ending with Trump. I don't know why I am like that. It's not even healthy. And it may not work out. Maybe I will have endured all things just for him to get married, or at least in a serious relationship with someone else (I really, really hope this doesn't happen while I still like him). I would be devastated. I shudder just thinking about it. But maybe I will endure all things just for him to finally open his heart to me. Mr. Big finally opened his heart to Carrie right? So there's hope!

But Mr. Big is a fictional character and Trump isn't.

Besides, Mr. Big is a jerk anyway.

Oh What A Month Can Bring

At this point, I am not sure what I am supposed to think.

A month ago I decided that Trump just wanted to be left alone. However, at this point, I am not so sure.

There hasn't been an incredible amount of change of events. He still hardly contacts me, but we have talked a few times. Once we talked all night! We talked as friends, but a part of me feels he wants more than that.

This is what some would call "inconsistent reinforcement". Does he like me? Does he not like me? I cannot stand wondering, but I feel like that is all I do lately -- just wonder. I really just want to be over it. It is hard though. I feel like one day I will be over it, but will I really? I think a part of me doesn't want to be over it. I want to be with him. I just want a chance I think. I mean, I'm not asking to marry the guy. I just want the opportunity to date him so that all of this will not be in vain. Is that too much to ask? Am I being utterly ridiculous. Probably. Do I care? Not really.