Saturday, 30 January 2010

He's...

He's arrogant,
and self-centered,
and mean most of the time,
but then you get those moments,
where he'll stop and smile at you,
or he'll wink at you from across the room,
or laugh with you,
or smile,
and he becomes someone totally different.
He's that person, who, through everything,
will remain unchanged.
He's that person who I'll always rely on to be there,
to brighten up my day,
if only for a few precious hours.
he's the one who I feel I want to look pretty for,
and the one I love to joke around with.
He's the one who will look at me,
and he'll be so close,
but never really in my reach.
He'll talk to me,
so close that I could kiss him right then,
but just as I'm about to tell him how I feel,
he'll turn and walk away,
almost as if he knows what's coming,
but he just can't bear to hear it.
He'll just... turn,
and walk away,
and carry on,
walking.

Thursday, 28 January 2010

You stupid, stupid idiot.

You make me so mad. I don't understand how you can be so openly hateful towards someone you've never even met. Okay, he might not appeal to your taste; fair enough, everyone is different. But there is no reason to put him down so much and tell me what I should and should not feel for him. Maybe, in your eyes, he's not good enough for me. In mine, he's too good for me. Maybe, in your eyes, he's a 'fugly chav.' In mine, he's a beautiful angel. Maybe, in your eyes, he's not intelligent enough. In mine, he is utterly perfect. Ad then you have the utter audacity to say that you know what kind of person I should be with. Sorry, I hate to rain on your arsey parade, but you've known me how long? Three, four months? You have no idea what kind of person I like. Demii and my mother agree that he's good for me. Its funny; I thought that friends were supposed to be happy for you, or at least act it. But you don't do either. All you seem to be trying to do is break us up. And then, you have the sheer arrogance to completely slag me off. I tell you my biggest secret, thinking you'll understand. But then you go all judgemental on me, calling me all those hurtful things, telling me that its stupid. Have you been there? So low, that you can't do anything and you have nowhere to go? To the point where you don't know how to make the pain stop? You do not understand, and you never will. And then, and this is the richest part, you try to make it all about you, saying that your life has been hard too, far harder than my unimportant, worthless life. Of course, it has to be all about you. I seem to always forget that part. I feel slightly important when you ask me for help, or you talk to me. But then when I try to help, or try to talk to you, you tell me I'm wrong after seeking my help and start arguments when you talk to me. Its like you always have to be right. Why? Why ask me for help, and then make me feel small and stupid by not listening to what I'm trying to tell you? I'm sorry that I'm younger than you, female, and smarter (not that its difficult). And my life is actually more interesting and much better than yours. You're annoying as hell, and you never shut that big mouth of yours. You may be fairly good looking, but your atitude and personality stink. They make you so unattractive. Its such a shame, because you have your moments where you're half decent. But then you slip back into that bitchy, self-centered state. I feel sorry for you. Really, I do. But I'm not going to waste any more typing energy on you. You stupid, low-lying, judgemental, self-centered, arrogant twat. You messed up your one chance with me. And let me tell you, its not ever coming back.
-D.

Friday, 22 January 2010

Introduction

Danielle is a young girl, in love with a boy called Peter. He is kind, caring and funny, and they form a special bond. Peter, however, is very secretive about his life. He helps Danielle in any way possible, unaware that she is in love with him. Two years after their first meeting, Peter leaves, with no explanation as to why. Heartbroken, Danielle has nowhere to turn to. Her life passes in a blur for the next year as she tries to come to terms with Peter's absence. Then she finds Sam, and life becomes good again. Then she hears of Peter living in California, and all those memories of him come flooding back to her. Since, she has not been able to stop thinking of him. Ironic, really; she thinks he is in America, but he is only 65 miles away in London. This scene is two monologues running alongside each other; Danielle is in red and Peter is in green. Lines spoken together are in blue. Both are in separate places. It occurs while Danielle is in a relationship with Sam.
* * *
Danielle is in her room, laying in her bed, unable to sleep. Peter is racing through her head. She can't stop thinking about him.
Peter is laying in bed, also unable to sleep, thinking of Danielle. He came back from America to find her.

I can't stop thinking about Peter.
I can't stop thinking about Danielle.
I wonder what he's thinking right now. One things for sure, its not me; I don't ever think he loved me.
I wonder how she's doing. After I left, did she move on? I can't believe in all the time I had with her, I never -
I can't believe I searched him on bloody Google. What an idiot. I was asking for trouble. And now he has a site, and he's in the States, and -
What compelled me to search her on Google? And then I find that... blog thing. I don't believe how much I hurt her.
Let's face facts; he was just a friend, and he was no other way inclined. I wish I could pluck up the courage to send that -
One letter. That's all I would want, to know how she's getting on. But where would she send it? The States address is no good now; not since I moved back to -
Clara said he actually never left. How weird is that? What I wouldn't give to see him one last time. To know if he ever -
I wonder if she thinks of me like I think of her. I never stopped thinking of her since I found that blog, and the post, called -
'The final letter' was about him.
To me.
Maybe, right now, he is thinking of me. Whatever he's thinking, it can't be good after the way I -
Treated her so badly. She poured out her heart and soul and -
All he ever gave me was 'I'm fine'. Nothing more, nor anything less. I remember, he played me -
That Chris Brown song. "With You". Did she not realise I was trying to tell her how I felt through his lyrics?
That song still makes me cry. It was never an official thing, but -
I used to call it 'Our song' when she wasn't around.
I miss him.
I love her. Imagine how it must've hurt her when -
He talked about his girlfriends all the time. It cut me up inside.
She used to talk about Mark all the time. He treated her like shit! I always told her -
"You're too good for him," he always told me. But that -
Was always true. I tried to tell her. But -
I would never listen. I was stupid. Because he was right. And then he left, and I never explained -
How I felt about her.
About us.
I want to see her, just one more time.
But what if it drags up all those old feelings again? He won't drop everything and magically reappear from America for me.
What if she's moved on and I hurt her and ruin her life all over again?
I'm so stupid.
I'm so stupid.
I've missed all my chances.
I've missed all my chances.
...
...
I wonder if (s)he's thinking of me right now?
Nah, that could never happen. He got what he wanted; an agent in the States. I was just one of the little people he had to step on along the way.
I hope she is. I don't want her to forget me. She told me not to forget her, so I didn't. How could I?
I bet he's happy as a King, with a beautiful woman melting off his arm. I don't and never did deserve him.
I don't and never did deserve her. She's probably forgotten what I look like by now. But I'll never forget her face. Her eyes.
His hair.
Her lips.
His smile.
Her laugh.
His arms.
Her sad eyes when she looked away.
His vacant expression when asked a question he didn't want to answer.
Her tendency to walk on tiptoes.
His flat feet when he tapped.
Her poetry. I wonder if she still writes it.
I wonder where he is.
I have got to find her.

Tuesday, 12 January 2010

Lost in an ocean...

...
Shit.
I can't... piece together my thoughts. They won't... The information won't sink in. It won't... I can't.. I can't make sense of anything. Its like, I'll read something, and I can't... formulate a response. All that comes out is 'Erm's' and '...' and a plethora of other weird sounds that I can't voice.
I don't know what to say. Its not any different really from the other blogs... but somehow, my brain can't understand how to respond to it. And I... it doesn't make any sense. And you can't believe how frustrating it is for me, not being able to say anything...
But nothing is forming in my head. This has never happened to me before. I've never been lost for words.
Shock?
Stunned?

I don't know anymore.
I'm scared. So, so scared.

-D. xox

Sunday, 10 January 2010

The final letter

Dear Pibas,
Isn't it funny how, of all the people I need to write to, you're the first I pick. Its a new decade, so its time to clean up my act. Its strange, because it seems the more I insist upon banishing you from my life, the more you return. I can't eat, I can't think straight, I can't even sleep because I know, what I fall into my subconscious, it will always be that same nightmare waiting for me.
So, I suppose you're wondering why I chose to write to you, instead of everyone else who is in dire need of a letter from me. Well, my reason is this: I need to apologise to you. Over this past year or so, I've been really rotten. You know that I was bitter on your departure. But there was no reason for me to make everything after your leaving, your doing. You were not the reason I broke up with Sam, nor were you the reason for my cutting. All that, and much, much more, was me. But I completely tarnished your memory by making you out to be something you weren't. You were always so nice to me. You gave me all the help I ever desired. You never put me down. You always looked out for me. You spoke to me like I was a human being, not a lovesick puppy. But most importantly, you respected me and my wishes. So, after all this unnecessary kindness from you, there was no need for me to turn you into a monster the way I did. I wasn't ready to live without you; that was plain to see. And, maybe I never will be. I'm still not now: why would I type you in on Google otherwise? The simple answer is, I wouldn't. I guess I just miss you. Which is weird, because I never had you to begin with... you were never mine to miss, not really. I wanted to have you, to call you my own. And there was this feeling, like there was always a small chance for me... Hope. I felt hope. Hope that I would get you. And at one point in time, maybe there was a chance for me to have you. But I missed it. I missed my chance. All my chances. So then, after that, I guess acceptance began to trickle in. I accepted that you were not for me. I blamed it on my not being good enough. But I am good enough. I'm not broken. It just takes the right person to see it.
Do you know, its so hard to write this, without being horrible. Because I am grieving. And for the past year, I have been angry with you for ever leaving. But it was your time to move on. And I am jealous of every girl you have ever had on your arm. Because she didn't know it, but she was the luckiest girl on the planet when she was there. Because she had something which I could only dream of. Something which was always in reach, in sight, right on the tips of my fingers, but never obtainable for me. She had you. I'm so stupid for missing my opportunity. Because I can't go back and do it different. Its not like my games, where I can go back to where I saved and start again if I mess up. This is real life, where you only get one chance. One chance. and I messed the whole thing up. I'm sorry for that. And I'm sorry if I ever caused you to feel guilty. I never wanted that, as much as I said I did. I'm sorry for encroaching on your personal life. Sorry for the pain I caused, the poems I wrote, the lies I told to hinder you. But I am not sorry for you being a part of my life. You were, are, ad always will be the one I can run to. My Boy In The Shadows. My angel, Piers.
This will be my final letter to you. I have no need to write to you anymore. And I've no need to settle my mind by seeing you again, either. I believe, someday, I'll find you again. When I'm not looking for you, and at the most inopportune moment, but I'll find you.
Love, The old, unchanged, short, naive, soppy, brunette, Deanna. Me. Unchanged and un-fake. Just for you. -xoxox-

Friday, 8 January 2010

Off the subject...

  1. You were not, are not, and never will be 'a stroppy, unappreciative, argumentative boy.'
  2. You were not, are not, and never will be 'angry and violent'.
  3. You were not, are not, and never will be 'blunt and unpopular'.
  4. You were never 'too late to try and stop me'. You managed to stop me anyway.
  5. You don't need to worry about 'what you said and how you wish you could take it back'.
  6. You were never a 'complete fucking egg'.
  7. Nor are you a 'weirdo freak'
  8. You do not need to grow in height and maturity.
  9. You are not a 'little kid'.
  10. You never do a 'bodge job' of cheering her up, and you never did, so there is and was no need to kick yourself for weeks afterwards.
  11. You need never jump off a cliff because she will never reject you.
  12. You certainly do not need to contemplate how you are going to die. Please, enjoy life while you still have it, don't go worrying over the freak accidents and suicides of this world.
  13. You are 'more compassionate than the average human being'. More so than anyone I've ever met.
  14. You never 'bore me'. You could write pages ad pages of shit and I would still read it because I love knowing what's going on in your head.
  15. I would say you didn't 'fuck up'. But you did, by your standards. I'm sorry for that. Its something I cannot fix with my list for you.
  16. When I was crying, you were right; there was nothing you could've done to make it stop. So stop kicking yourself over it, because you still helped me.
  17. You are not a 'loser with an identity crisis'.
  18. Above sentence is not completely and utterly true.
  19. You can always re-take the test. There will always be times you can retake it. But maybe with a better prize. Lord knows you deserve one.
  20. You do not 'distort my perfection'.
  21. It has not 'worked out. Really really well'. Not really. My mother is always on my back like she's trying to break us up, my dad hates him because he's helping me grow up and my father can't bear to see that. And other things that you already know about.
  22. You do not need to be sorry for any of those things. Especially that first one on your list.
  23. That letter was addressed to you as much as him.
  24. I did not include you to 'make you feel better'. I included you because you were to be included.
  25. You are right, that was not a work of fiction. But it was pretty impossible to fulfil what it suggested, so I gave up.
  26. You are the selfless angel I thought you were and are.
  27. Yes,I do 'love you like I say I do.'

...Just thought I might clear those few things up for you.
-D. x

Thursday, 7 January 2010

"Isn't love pathetic?"

My friend uttered under her breath. Before clicking the phone off, rolling over and falling asleep, hugging a pillow and staining it with tears.
And I got slightly mad at her for saying it. Love is not pathetic by any standards. Sure, it might weaken us and make us vulnerable to the worst kind of pain: heartbreak. But when we're at our most vulnerable is when we can become most alive. That is what makes love so appealing, so enthralling. Yes, you get broken every once in a while, but nothing is perfect. And we have to learn from our mistakes sometimes. Its no good trying to avoid love, because eventually we will forget what it is like to love and be loved. You have to take a chance on love sometimes, because we can't run from love forever. No matter how hard we try, love will always find us. So it is better to embrace it than push it away. And by no means is love pathetic. Without love, the world would become one bitter, horrible shell to live in. Without love, there is no trust.

And sometimes, we have to take a chance.
-D. xox

Tuesday, 5 January 2010

:)

Smiley faces. you know, the little ones you get on Msn conversations. Reading your post the other day... made me realise. A little smiley face can either make a conversation, or kill it. You know, those awkward moments where there is nothing else to say, so you type a smiley face because you feel you have to say something... but what can the other person say to a cute, yellow face, smiling up at you?

Is the person truly smiling? Really? Its easy just to type a smiley face on Msn to reassure the other person that you're talking to. Its easy to say 'I'm fine'. Even when there are tears welling up in your eyes. Even when you're getting torn up inside because of something they've said. But you type a smiley face, live life like its normal, carry on because there is no other way. And the other person thinks you're fine. You typed a smiley face, why shouldn't you be alright?

Even though you're all over the place, trying to piece yourself back together... you put that smiley face, so everything seems fine...

Saturday, 2 January 2010

The Letter

Dear Stuart, and Hugo,because I think you are as important, if not more so,
I want to ask you a simple favour. If, by some great luck I receive, you are still in my life, I want you to do something for me. One day, and its not too far from now:
my looks will go,
my sight will begin to fail me,
my body will become weak,
my ears will become less willing to listen,
and my memory will fail me.
So when I am wrinkly and frail, when my limbs are skinny and my hair is pale, tell me that I am still the woman you fell for all those years ago. The beautiful one, even if I'm not so eye-catching anymore.
If I am unable to see you, read to me. Tell me stories of a time when things were simpler and our love was as new as the blossoms on the trees. Tell me tales of loss and adventure, read me poetry of a great era.
If I am unable to reach out with my frail hands and hold you in my arms once more, then grab my hands. Kiss my forehead, like you always do, and make me feel all those things for you again.
If I am unable to hear your sweet voice, singing me to sleep or telling me the tales of the skies, then stare at me. Tell me stories with your beautiful eyes. Words unspoken but stories so vast.
But most importantly, if my memory ceases to function, if I forget who you are, or who we were, or who I wanted to be, read me this story. The story of my life. This blog, my diaries, the poems I wrote.
Read me these, and I will always come back to you.

Love, Deanna. x

Friday, 1 January 2010

The song is ending, but the story never will.

2010 has officially begun.
To start the year off, I want to do some thanks for last year...

Hugo: C'mon, you knew you were going to be first. I want to thank you for everything you've done for me in the past year. I haven't known you that long, but the amount you've done for me is immense. And I hope that somehow, in some way, I can repay you. Because you are really special to me, and I hope you know it. And one more thing... don't apologise for being in my life. I have no clue where I would be if not for you. No doubt, not here. So I want to thank you. I'm so grateful, and if I ever manage to make it up to you, let me know. :) x
Stuart: I've known you for less time than Hugo. But the impact you've had on my life is huge. Its the same for you: without you, I'm not sure I would still be straight! I would've gone to the dark side for Demii, I swear. :P I'm kidding. Really. But I am so thankful to God for giving you to me. I don't think I deserve you sometimes, I think you're too good to me. But I don't mind :) as long as you'll have me, I'll not complain. And if you're willing to put up with me, I'm not going anywhere. I love you. More than anything in the world.
Demii: MY LESBO LOVER! Ah, Demii, you've been there through everything with me. And not once, not ever, did you complain. We've had some rough times, yes, sure. But doesn't everybody? All friends have rough, rocky patches. But we got through it, and our friendship is the best its ever been. You are like my personal diary, you listen to everything I say, and don't complain one bit. I love you, Dem. And I'll never dessert you.
Brian, aka bT: I know I don't really talk to you anymore, but for a short while, way back when, in the early stages of 2009, you got me through the day. Wierd, right? You do mean a lot to me, still. And either way, you got me through the beginning of 2009, and I want you to know that your girl over in the UK will always listen. Peace.

And, to everyone else in my life; Cake, Lizard, Robert, Maddie, Dom, and anyone else who I can't recall under these conditions, I thank you dearly for everything you've cared to do for me. I am nothing without you all, and I want you all to know that.

Peace, love, and best wishes always through 2010:
-Deanna Maria Lucia Cappella- xxxx
Livin' it large. 2010: The year things start happening. The year dreams come true. Safe. Sound. Forever and always. x