Ok...
Here's attempt number 5 at writing this post... who knows if it'll stay up... because each time I start a post... I get worked up... leading to me deleting the post because it's just too damn mean.
Here we go:
My world sort of fell apart on Thursday morning.
It had started to crumble after that nasty fight I had with the chicks
(my "friends" I so believed, but now that I think about it, real friends wouldn't do a tenth of the bad shit they did) back on the 6th of this month... although by the 1st of the month things were already taking a turn for the worst.
You see... two of the 4 girls involved in the argument started making a move for ALL of my friends/acquaintances... and they weren't shy about letting everyone know about our drama.
They made sure to make me uncomfortable in all situations: the park as I played volleyball with people from out of town
(they'd make sure and talk loud enough so that the out-of-towners would hear the shit talking), my usual hang-out spot we so dearly call "The Alamo"
(I didn't go for a week... and it was killing me to know these two chicks were usurping my place!), my own house
(they're my neighbors... so I HAD to bump into them at some point).My last couple of days there were purgatory, since I'd always think back to that fucking day and get heated... and upset at thinking that my "friends" had been poisoned by a bitch who couldn't get her facts straight. I was upset knowing they had believed her over me... I was upset knowing things will never be the same between us again.
HOWEVER, as much as this fight hurt me, I
DIDN'T go around telling people about it. People would approach me and ask... and while it was tempting to be vindictive and turn people against
THEM, I never did. I only told one person about the fight, and that was my godson, only because he knew something was up... and he's probably the only other person I trust in this world... but I never told him to stop talking/start hating anyone
(unlike what these girls were doing).So, I left it at that... as heart-broken as it made me
("echame a mi la culpa de lo que paso..." I'm a vindictive bitch when I want to... but this problem hurt me too much soul-wise for me to actually get vicious. It was too much of a low blow, and while I would have my bursts of rage, I'd stay home and cool off, rather than go to these girls homes to personally kick each one of their dumb asses). I lived the rest of my "vacation" playing Guitar Hero, crying, counting the days until it was time to come home, and missing my godson like crazy
(he was in the city, studying by now, remember? He was no longer in Hometown, wasting away like the rest of the kids his age).On to what made me get worse and led to my Thursday melt-down:I became unbelievably attached to my 19-year-old friend, who I'll now refer to as My Guitar Hero, MGH.
There's always been a "thing" between us... and it wasn't until this year that we sort of acted on it
(I was in need of a friend/game partner... he was heart-broken/in need of female attention... it was summer time... shit happens, right?).
We became attached at the hip... and there was this crazy level of comfort between us, as well as the coolest vibe I've ever felt with a guy. I mean... it was... love, but not the
"I want to marry you!! Let's have babies together!" love... it was just...
"God, where the fuck have you been all my life? Can you believe we click like this? I'll fucking hurt anyone that tries to ruin this" type love.
He had been in Hometown for about two wonderful weeks in mid-July, left for a week and a half to another part of Mexico, then came back the day before we left for Vegas.
Before he left for that week and a half, we talked about not wanting to part and all that shit
("Don't leave me MGH!! It's gonna suck without you!"--and this was before I even had a hint of the shit that was to come for me later on that week-- "Who else is going to gold-star with me?!" etc). That's when he asked, very timidly btw, if he could come with me to Vegas... which garnered this response:
Oh my God! I fucking love you, MGH!!! ::bear-hug around his waist as he was dangling from a tree (so we like to play around on trees, we ARE Mexican, after all):: Of course you can!!So I was excited when he left, because I knew he'd be coming to Vegas with me when it was time to leave.
I was even more ecstatic about his return after all the girl drama passed
(drama he never heard about, at least not from me).
The trip came and went... it was uncomfortable as fuck because we were sort of crammed in the truck... but still, I made room for him to sleep on my lap, I'd give him hour-long back massages, once in Vegas, he slept in my room--the biggest aside from my folks' room, we showed him around cost-free...etc. he was basically treated like a king
(because we wanted to treat him like that and had no problem doing so).We took him back to San Francisco last Friday, the 15th, and we stayed with him until Monday
(the only day I didn't see him was Saturday, because I was at that damn wedding with the stalker).
Everything was fine and dandy up until Sunday night... around the time we were getting ready to go to sleep. He started acting weird... looked sad... stopped talking... and didn't even get up to say goodbye in the morning.
All right... I don't get it, but whatever... I guess you don't like good-byes or something...However, come Monday night, he called me to see if we had gotten home safe. We then proceeded to stay connected with each other up until Wednesday night... then all of a sudden, come Thursday morning... nothing.
I saw he had removed me from his contacts
(except Myspace, because he doesn't use that often), wouldn't answer my e-mails, texts, anything.
Then I noticed that I wasn't the only one he removed. He removed my entire family and wouldn't talk to them.
I tried contacting MGH's brother
(the one who was 19 last summer and would sing to me when we'd be alone) and asking what the deal was... but no answer. He wouldn't answer my sister's texts and e-mails either.
This lasted all Thursday... this attempt at seeing what the hell was going on.
Normally, I wouldn't panic
THIS bad, however, I was freaking out because I remembered something terrifying:
In Mexico, when I was still cool with the batch of girls, we'd go together to the internet cafe. I'd always use the same computer because 1. It was my favorite, 2. It had all my favorites saved, and 3. It was pretty secluded from all the other ones.
One day, the 16-year-old of the group, beat me to my computer, so I was forced to use another one. This one was open to the world... meaning, I had no privacy walls... and people making line to pay would be able to see my screen.
This day, I had seen I had messages on blogger... so I went for it... and that's when it happened: the girls saw my blog.
The day had been pretty rough to begin with... since that same day they had looked at my Myspace page... and proceeded to make fun of one of my friends (to which I responded with really obscene words... offending them all... but I didn't care because you don't fuck with my real friends like that... I prefer for everyone to just... get along... and if any one of them makes fun of another, I'll be quick to step in and tell them to shut the fuck up... unless the arguing parties are siblings).
Once they saw I had a blog, they proceeded to knock it... but I thought nothing else of it... just that they were butt-hurt over me offending them earlier, and now they wanted to make fun of me to feel better.
Well... from there, I noticed they became a little more interested in my Guitar Hero band name (I'm stupid enough to have "AnoMALIE" as the name... how retarded, I know), and asked me to explain the name to them.
I did as they asked... and thought nothing of it.Well, I came to Vegas, and noticed that someone in Durango had been checking out my blog.
Once again, I didn't panic, I just thought "Fuck, AnoMALIE, why don't you ever erase the history off computers?? Now people in Mexico will be able to read your blog... and notice all your shit-talking..."With the sudden cut-off from MGH, all kinds of things started running through my head.
Fuuuuckkk.... I've said some things about MGH on my blog... especially last year.... like... what his dad was known for... shit... fuck... his cousin saw me checking my blog... fuck! Oh no... shit... I offended him!! His family hates me now... and I can't blame them.... me and my damn big mouth! Fuckkkk! I ruined a good thing! My family! AHHHH! He's going to hate me... I lost him...
Sure, I thought maybe MGH had heard about the August 6th War of Words... and since his name had been smeared in the fight, I thought maybe he was mad... but I felt something bigger than that must have happened... and the thought of him finding out what I know about his dad was scaring me... terribly... because that shit you just don't talk about to anyone... especially when the man's own children don't know what's up. That shit has the potential to rip families apart.
When I saw Friday was turning into the same deal
(no, I wasn't continuously texting and calling... I was playing the most anguishing waiting game, actually... praying my worst fear wasn't coming true), in the afternoon, I resorted to texting their cousin
(who lives a couple of minutes away from them), one of the girls involved in the August 6th war of words
(she's also first cousins with the main fire starter of it all, Enemy, the one that was going around bad-mouthing me to everyone), the same chick who learned about my blog and asked about my name.
She wouldn't answer my texts, so I started getting hostile on her.
She answered after my second serious text
(none of this smiley face shit or text speak).Upon calling her... she said she had no idea what was going on... she said she had never mentioned anything to MGH, but she never claimed her cousin, Enemy, as being innocent.
Since Enemy's Cousin
(I guess that's what I'll call her, no, let's call her Pacemaker, like a song her name's involved in), Pacemaker, lives closer to MGH and his family, she did the calling and figuring out what was going on.
Eventually, Pacemaker got me in touch with MGH
(the following night).As all this was happening, I decided to close my blog... because it would only be incriminating
("Yes... I talk about you... and your dad... and your money... but I really do love you!!" How the fuck would that work?).Upon talking to MGH, he let me in on why everything had happened
(reasons being far more tear-inducing than I thought. Not scary at all... at least, not to me... to him, maybe). He calmed me down... we got back on good terms, and he's once again
My Guitar Hero.
Pacemaker swore never to make mention of this blog ever again... as I promised never to write bad things about
HER (hell no, I dind't agree to not talking bad about Enemy... I said I wouldn't mention her at all... ever again... in writing or in person). I hope she holds up to her agreement... 'cause I know I will.
:T
AAAAND, that, my friends... is why I had a massive meltdown this past week... why I ALMOST deleted this blog completely... and why I haven't really talked much on here anymore
(and probably never will talk too much... man...).
...
It was given to me as a Christmas gift when I was 13...
