I have wasted god knows how long criticizing the actions of others. You could read my previous journal entries to know that. But how could I denounce what I never even knew? People turn to look at me and the first word that flashes through their mind is hypocrite. It took me all this time to realize that maybe they’re correct, maybe I am fraud. But for once it doesn’t bother me.

Let’s back track a little, maybe? How the hell did this all start? Well about 10 months ago something happened. I suffered not only from a broken heart but I also had to carry the weight of another misfortune, a secret I had kept locked away. After my little incident I completely gave up on men. For nearly 10 months I claimed lesbian.

Everyone talked about me behind my back, saying I was just confused. But what did they know? I pulled through that long without dick. I kept ignoring their remarks. Who needed guys anyways? Girls understood where I was coming from, right? Wrong.

I dated two girls in that time, one of which who was completely insane and sort of exposed that not only guys were horrible but girls could be as well. Anyways, I kept changing my outlook on “love.” I kept mocking everybody who was in a relationship. I’d tell everyone they wouldn’t last, placing the reasons as to why on the table. Unfortunately, I was the cause for a lot of break ups between people.  I was living in the apparition of my own loneliness. “If I can’t be happy, why should anyone else?” I went from bitter to gloomy in a days time. Everyone around me was well aware of this. I was a roller coaster, just waiting to go off course.

Time passed and my criticism only grew. I laughed at those who were in long distance relationships. I scoffed at whoever claimed love after a week’s time. And my criticism was usually directed to teens in general. I believed if you were under 18, you didn’t know what love was. I believed if you were under 18, your relationship would never last.

Those beliefs soon died down as well as my lesbian lifestyle when I met a guy. A guy who lived in a different state. A guy who I claimed to love in less than a week. A guy who was under 18, and so was I. And that was when I was first called a hypocrite.

I won’t mention his name but I know he’ll read this and I know he’ll figure out who he is. He’ll know that he screwed me over, intentional or not. He’ll know that everything he told me, everything he fed me was a lie. He’ll know that I know this as well.

But because of him I believed in love again, because of him I gave guys another chance.

            But he was never worth my time. He never did deserve my love. He put me through so many ups and downs that we could have created a fucking amusement park. But then again, he was just a kid. And I was just looking for something that had slipped through the cracks a long time ago.

             So love was out there, I discovered, but I also came to a new conclusion, something that I didn’t want to admit.

Nothing lasts forever.

            I wanted so badly to be loved, so badly to be wanted that I looked past that. I believed that hope would be enough to pull me through. But of course, that proved to be false. He was gone.

            After that I kept looking at everyone around me that I knew. The word “divorce” seemed to be stamped in front my eyes. Parents. Grandparents. Uncles. Aunts. Cousins. Friends. Goodbyes were flying everywhere, love was buried again.

            But then he returned once again, to help me pick up those pieces he left me with, to help me fix what he broke, to feed me the lies once again. He admired what he had done, I’m sure. He fixed me, proud of his work. But he could still see the cracks, not only made from him but from the past as well. He didn’t want damaged goods. So he dropped me, allowing me to shatter once more upon the floor.

            I stayed in bed for days, his picture in my hand and a tear soaked pillow under my head. And there, I trained myself to hate him. I rolled over each and every flaw in my head until they were highlighted, standing out. I had a friend come over, we made a video. The picture I had previously held onto while crying became a center of our joke.

I didn’t need him to pick up the pieces, I slowly began to myself.

            Time passed some more. I began to like other people. I had a crush on this one girl. She said she liked me back. I had asked her out and was waiting for an answer when he came back. I don’t know what made him come back after all that had happened but he did. Maybe he saw me okay again, no more pieces left around, easier to handle. He won me over, only this time it was worse than before.

            He allowed me to get closer. He peeled me open and looked inside. He discovered my worst secrets. He made promises. He told lies. I should have known what was coming. But then again, I gave into the hope. Hoping it would be enough.

                                    Of course it wasn’t.

            I never looked at him as a jealous type but I guess that was another flaw he had kept hidden as he built himself up to be something perfect in my eyes. It took all this time for me to knock down what he had built. I don’t think I would have pulled through that time if it hadn’t been for my best friend.

            Now you see, a lot of things happened in that time. I had this girl who I called my best friend for months but when she and this guy broke up I had somehow gotten close to him, he had taken her place. Every time the guy I was with would pull another one of his infamous stunts, my best friend would be there to pick up the pieces. I’d call him crying and he’d be able to make me laugh all over again. It wouldn’t be an understatement to say that he saved my life, more than once. I kept getting closer and closer to him.

            The boyfriend didn’t like my best friend. He kept telling me “he’s going to take you away.” That was somewhat of a shitty allegation since my best friend didn’t “take me away” rather the boyfriend pushed me to him.

            The boyfriend ended up leaving me suddenly. I was at the movies with my friend when it happened. He texted me telling me it was over when just hours ago him and I were laughing over somebody’s foot fetish. My mother debated taking my friend home that night because I had become unresponsive.

            In the end my phone decided to follow my foot steps and commit suicide like I was planning. Now that I think of it, I was being pretty stupid, planning to kill myself while my friend was in the same damn room as me.

            I used her phone to call my best friend. He was out at his dad’s house, a place where phones decide to go when they want to take a vacation so signals were weak. The phone kept dropping calls or cutting out and I hadn’t the chance to fully explain what had happened. Well the next day I decided to test out my CPR skills and bring my phone back to life.

            I don’t remember how long it was that I stayed in bed. It was days, I’m sure. People would call, wanting to hang out and I would turn them down. People would text me, I wouldn’t respond. I could hear my mom and step dad in the other room talking about me, wanting to know what was wrong. I wouldn’t tell them. I wouldn’t tell anyone but him.

                                    The only person I wanted to talk to.

How the hell he did it, I don’t know. But with him by my side, checking up on me, and just talking about fucking fruit would brighten my day. I soon came out of bed; I hung out with friends again. I felt okay for once, even if I was single.

But letting him so close to me resulted in me falling for him, which I would not admit to. He was already taken by somebody who in my eyes was a lot prettier and smarter than me. He seemed crazy about her. There was no way in hell I was going to confess that I had liked him when I was with the other guy and that he had made me fall for him when the guy left. I wanted him happy. He was happy with her. There was no way I was stepping in between.

                        Only then did I receive a phone call.

She left him. She didn’t feel the same. She hurt my best friend and hearing the result of this was fucking heart wrenching. I didn’t know what to say. I was no help at all and he quickly got off the phone with me.

I debated calling him back. I tried to come up with what to say, anything helpful. I wanted him to know I cared. I wanted him to know I loved him. To know that I was in love with and having him hurt was not on my agenda. But I didn’t want to confess. It wasn’t a good time anyways. But I did want to call. I had to know he was okay. I was sick with worry that he’d do something to hurt himself.

Finally I called.

He sounded worse than he did earlier. He told me he wanted to hurt himself. I begged for him not to. But I don’t think anything I said was making a difference at this point. I could quote to you everything that he said, everything that I said that night. It was stamped in my fucking brain. It was one of the worst nights of my life.

                        But then again it was one of the best.

He said that she couldn’t fully love him because of somebody else, that the girl before that was guilty of the same thing. In my head I was shouting I’m guilty of it too, I couldn’t love him fully because of you! I didn’t say it. He told me he wanted to be loved. I told him I loved him. But it wasn’t the love he wanted. Yeah that’s what you think, I thought to myself. He kept going on about how they hurt him. I kept wanting to tell him I’d never hurt him. I was having a fucking battle in my head. Part of me wanting to tell him, the other screaming at me that it was a bad time.

He wanted to hurt himself. He wouldn’t promise me to stay safe like he had promised before. I didn’t know what else to do. Everything I was saying seemed to be bouncing off the walls, never making it to his ears.

                        Finally I told him.

I got a silence for a moment and then he told me that was sweet. Automatically I regretted opening my big mouth. He already told me once that he looked at me as a sister. This wasn’t going anywhere good, now was it? But then he told me he had liked me too.

We got together that day.

Everything seems to be falling in place. Carl loves me and I love him. We’re engaged now and I couldn’t be happier. He’s my best friend and my soul mate. For once I don’t need to just hope. I know for a fact everything is going to be okay.

I love you, Carl. Forever. <3