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  <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:breakingbeanie</id>
  <title>Let Me Give You Some Insight to my Insides.</title>
  <subtitle>breakingbeanie</subtitle>
  <author>
    <name>breakingbeanie</name>
  </author>
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  <updated>2009-11-15T18:49:57Z</updated>
  <lj:journal userid="14877709" username="breakingbeanie" type="personal"/>
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  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:breakingbeanie:44864</id>
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    <title>One of those Jerry Spinger days.</title>
    <published>2009-11-15T18:49:57Z</published>
    <updated>2009-11-15T18:49:57Z</updated>
    <content type="html">BACKSTORY: Last summer, my little brother and this kid Brendan were having problems. Not for any particular reason, I don't think, but they just knew each other from around the neighborhood, and didn't like each other. So this kid's mom, Malanie (hate the woman, love how she spells her name), decides that instead of coming to Mom and talking about it, or even talking to Chris about it, she's going to start calling my brother (how she got the number, I have no idea) and harass him. Cussing, threatening, and all this jazz. So Mom got tired of this 36-year-old woman harassing her son, and took out a peace order on behalf of Chris against her. It expired about six months ago.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;NOW.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I get a call from Chris around 3:10 yesterday afternoon, and he wanted to know where Mom was. I said she was in the bathroom, and I asked what was wrong. He said that this woman (see above) saw him walking to Subway with his friend Tyler, and started yelling at him from the house, saying she wants to fight his mom, his step-dad's shit, and yada yada yada. So I tell him to just come home, and let Mom deal with it, and he said okay, and hung up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Around 3:30, we didn't see him or hear from him, so Mom looked at me and said &amp;quot;I have a bad feeling about this.&amp;quot; So we decided to ride past the woman's street just to make sure nothing was going on, and that Christopher had actually left. We don't see anyone at first, and then - OH SHIT.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So we pull up to the house, and the first thing I see is this woman's boyfriend, Greg, standing and yelling in Chris' face. His friend Tyler looked at Mom and told her that Malanie had just spit in Chris' face. (The whole reason they never left, we found out later, is because when they were walking BACK from Subway, this crazy woman was telling her son Brendan to go kick Chris' ass, so the boys had been fighting). So Mom gets out of the car, pushes this guy away from Chris, and starts shouting in Malanie's face - &amp;quot;You don't put your fucking hands on my kid, you don't touch my fucking kid&amp;quot;, yada yada yada. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So Tyler and I finally pull Chris away from everyone, and Mom finally calmed down enough to be rational. And she's talking to Malanie saying, &amp;quot;You get your crew in the house, I'll get my crew in the car, and we'll talk about this like adults.&amp;quot; And the whole time, malanie's looking at Mom like, I'm not going anywhere with you. And Mom kinda laughed and said &amp;quot;I'm not going to hurt you.&amp;quot; And Malanie (who is all of 5' 5&amp;quot; and 120 pounds (and Mom is MUCH bigger, trust me)), looks at Mom and says, &amp;quot;I ain't afraid of you, stupid bitch.&amp;quot; And I'm like, uh oh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So they start yelling again, and at this point, Brendan goes after Chris again, and Tyler and I are working on keeping them apart. And we finally get Chris almost in the car, and I hear someone spitting on someone, and I hear Mom say, &amp;quot;How do &lt;em&gt;you&lt;/em&gt; like it, bitch?&amp;quot; And I turn around, and Malanie &lt;em&gt;lunges&lt;/em&gt; at Mom. And like I said, Mom's bigger, and Mom doesn't sissy fight. So while Malanie's got Mom by the hair, Mom's got Malanie by the arms. And she says, &amp;quot;Fine, you wanna pussy fight?&amp;quot; And i'm like, shit. And Mom starts smacking this woman's head against a picket fence by her hair.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the kid Brendan goes inside of his house, and comes outside with a baseball bat. I'm not even lying, a fucking BASEBALL BAT. And he starts walking towards Mom. And Chris and Tyler see this, and Chris flips out and goes after the kid, but Tyler got to him first, and just ripped the bat away from him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I'm trying to pull Mom and Malanie off of each other, screaming at them. I said something like, &amp;quot;DO you see what you're fucking doing to your kids? You guys needs to stop it.&amp;quot; And They both kind of looked at me, and they're both standing straight at this point. So, I kind of get between them, but not really. I had one hand on mom's chest, and the other in front of the woman (I wasn't touching that crazy bitch), and all of a sudden, I get a fist in my face. TWICE.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I lost it. I was already hysterical, and scared to death, and pissed as ALL hell, and when I finally get  the women off of each other, the stupid bitch PUNCHES me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All I know is when I came back to my senses, this woman's on the ground, and my hand hurts, and mom's trying to get past ME to hit this woman (mom claims she COMPLETELY lost it after she hit me). So I probably got in a hit or two. And then I see this little kid Brendan come over and start banging on Mom's head. And Chris flips the fuck out, and goes after Brendan, like, &amp;quot;You don't touch my fucking mom, you don't put your fucking hands on my mom.&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back to getting Chris away from everything. it took Tyler AND I to keep him pinned to the car. So while I'm trying to calm Chris down, whatever happens and the women stop fighting. Mom walks to the car, calls out that the woman's trailor trash (she sort of IS), and gets in the car. She tells me to call the police so I do, and I talk to them on the way home. We get home, I hang up, and mom tells me to take everyone in the house. And I ask why.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;quot;Because if this bitch is sendin' me to jail, I'm going back to make sure she's hurt enough to mean it.&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I start crying. I'm just so hysterical and angry and worked up by this point, I just start crying. No lie. And I'm &lt;em&gt;begging&lt;/em&gt; Mom to just go in the fucking house. And she says no, she's doing this right. And so I said, &amp;quot;Fine. I'm eighteen now, then take me fuckin' with you.&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So Mom decided to go in the house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Police were called, charges were pressed, peace orders taken out... It was a fun day yesterday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I wish this were some story I was making up for laughs and entertainment. But it's not.</content>
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  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:breakingbeanie:44628</id>
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    <title>breakingbeanie @ 2009-11-09T01:50:00</title>
    <published>2009-11-09T06:50:30Z</published>
    <updated>2009-11-09T06:50:30Z</updated>
    <content type="html">Why do I still let you bother me?</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:breakingbeanie:44300</id>
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    <title>breakingbeanie @ 2009-11-07T13:41:00</title>
    <published>2009-11-07T18:42:20Z</published>
    <updated>2009-11-07T18:42:20Z</updated>
    <content type="html">And this'll be the first time in a week&lt;br /&gt;That I talk to you, and I can't speak.&lt;br /&gt;It's been three whole days since I've had sleep,&lt;br /&gt;Cuz I dream of her lips on your cheek.&lt;br /&gt;And i got the point that I should leave you alone,&lt;br /&gt;But we both know that I'm not that strong&lt;br /&gt;And I miss the lips that made me fly....</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:breakingbeanie:44068</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://breakingbeanie.livejournal.com/44068.html"/>
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    <title>'Cuz Jersey Just Got Colder...</title>
    <published>2009-11-06T23:13:06Z</published>
    <updated>2009-11-06T23:13:06Z</updated>
    <content type="html">And I'll have you know I'm scared to death&lt;br /&gt;That everything that you had said to me&lt;br /&gt;Was just a lie until you left.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:breakingbeanie:43948</id>
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    <title>Dear Stranger.</title>
    <published>2009-11-06T04:03:55Z</published>
    <updated>2009-11-06T04:03:55Z</updated>
    <content type="html">Remember how they always seemed to know&lt;br /&gt; We had the forest in our eyes&lt;br /&gt; But the earth was in our clothes&lt;br /&gt; And they thought we'd fall&lt;br /&gt; Not at all&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; So look back on the treasured days&lt;br /&gt; We were young in a world that was so tired&lt;br /&gt; Though it's not what we wanted before&lt;br /&gt; Even the saints had to crawl from the floor &lt;br /&gt; Summers when the money was gone you'd sing&lt;br /&gt; All your little songs that meant everything to me&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; And I'll remember you&lt;br /&gt; And the things that we used to do&lt;br /&gt; And the things that we used to say&lt;br /&gt; I'll remember you that way&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; Remember how they tried to hold you down&lt;br /&gt; And we climbed those towers &lt;br /&gt; And looked down upon our town&lt;br /&gt; And everything you hoped would last&lt;br /&gt; Just always becomes your past (it hurts)&lt;br /&gt; Summers when the money was gone you'd sing&lt;br /&gt; All your little songs that meant everything to me &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; And I'll remember you&lt;br /&gt; And the things that we used to do&lt;br /&gt; And the things that we used to say&lt;br /&gt; I'll remember you always&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; But then this world slipped through my fingers&lt;br /&gt; And even the sun seemed tired&lt;br /&gt; I still cared&lt;br /&gt; As I lowered you down my heart just jaded&lt;br /&gt; In that moment the earth made no sound&lt;br /&gt; But you were there&lt;br /&gt; You helped me lift my pain into the air&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; I still miss you &lt;br /&gt; God I still miss you&lt;br /&gt; I know that you are waiting there&lt;br /&gt; I always thought that you'd come home&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; And I'll remember you&lt;br /&gt; And the things that we used to do &lt;br /&gt; And the things that we used to say&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; If it don't hurt you&lt;br /&gt; It won't hurt me&lt;br /&gt; If it don't hurt me&lt;br /&gt; Then it won't hurt you&lt;br /&gt; If it don't hurt you&lt;br /&gt; It won't hurt me that way</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:breakingbeanie:43613</id>
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    <title>breakingbeanie @ 2009-11-03T20:27:00</title>
    <published>2009-11-04T01:27:59Z</published>
    <updated>2009-11-04T01:27:59Z</updated>
    <content type="html">I hate you. I fucking hate you more than words can say. And I hate you for the mere fact that i thought I was over letting you hurt me. But I was wrong. And for that, i hate you.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:breakingbeanie:43353</id>
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    <title>Sweet Eighteen.</title>
    <published>2009-10-29T19:37:00Z</published>
    <updated>2009-10-29T19:37:00Z</updated>
    <content type="html">Looking back on the journal entry I wrote this time last year, I can't believe how blessed I've been this past year. I couldn't have wished for a better birthday than the one I had yesterday. It wasn't super fantastic, or excitingly busy, but it was perfect. I slept in as late as I wanted, and I woke up to a note on the fridge saying, &amp;quot;HAPPY BIRTHDAY, BEANIE WEANIE - HAVE A GREAT DAY&amp;quot; from my dad. I got plenty of text messages, phone calls and internet comments from my friends, all wishing me a happy birthday. i felt loved.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We went out to dinner at Texas Roadhouse. My dad got the waiters to sing to me - they have pictures of my face turning beat red. I got money from most of my family, and a sweet drawing and some body lotions from Emily. I got a &amp;quot;open heart&amp;quot; pendant necklace from my parents. I got to watch my dad make fun of Zach, and Zahc poke fun right back. We had a blast.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then I got to spend the rest of the night snuggled in bed with my future hsuband. I watched him sleep, and couldn't help but to feel amazed at how wonderfulyl blessed I am. He woke up, pulled me to him, and said &amp;quot;mine&amp;quot;, and I don't think&amp;nbsp;I've ever spent a birthday in a better way than the one I spent yesterday.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:breakingbeanie:43178</id>
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    <title>And the funniest thing is...</title>
    <published>2009-10-25T16:03:03Z</published>
    <updated>2009-10-26T01:08:39Z</updated>
    <content type="html">Is that I was right the whole time,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alright. I get it. You win.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Edit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I asked you. I thought we understood each other. I think I get now that we never understood each other at all. You are just like everyone else. Selfish and in it for you're own good.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:breakingbeanie:42934</id>
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    <title>Rainy days and Saturdays.</title>
    <published>2009-10-24T15:08:07Z</published>
    <updated>2009-10-24T15:08:07Z</updated>
    <content type="html">I am so tired of being a convenience to people. Sure, there's Allie, who genuinely likes being around me. There's Zach, who - ego aside - adores me, as I adore him. There's Catie, who I only get to hang out with every so often, but we still enjoy it. And I just have to sit back and thank God that I have certain people in my life that make me feel like I'm &lt;em&gt;worth&lt;/em&gt; something, worth some &lt;em&gt;time&lt;/em&gt; and general conversation for the sake of conversation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't like being the other girl. I realize now that with Skye, I probably always was. But my fucked up mind didn't care enough. So I stuck with it. I was the person he took it out on when he had a bad day. The subject of his insecurities. And that was okay, for that portion of my life, because that's who I let myself be. I can't blame anyone for that but myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Blake was decent. God, that sounds horrible. Blake was wonderful. he still is a wonderful person. He's very pure, very intelligent, and very wholesome. Unfortunately, at that point in my life, I still wasn't ready for a wholesome person. Not to say I was being rebellious, but I was still so &lt;em&gt;broken&lt;/em&gt; and &lt;em&gt;lost&lt;/em&gt; that I didn't want to ruin something as good as Blake's view on the world and love. We stayed friends. But I still feel like I'm still the girl he talks to when he gets rejected by his latest endeavor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Max... Max is interesting. I've never had a guy best friend before Max, and I probably won't ever have one like him again. I care for him deeply, I really do. And I even had a romantic interest in him at one point. When&amp;nbsp;i told him, he said he returned the feelings. But I was too &amp;quot;fucked up&amp;quot; to date. My problems and scars were too much to handle. Alright, okay. And then, two days later, there he was, asking me out. What changed his mind? Sex. A seventeen-year-old virgin looking to have sex with someone he trusted and 'cared for'. I don't know, maybe he did care for me. But I am not a girl to be used solely in the interest of sex. As broken as I was then, I still had enough self respect not to let that happen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't even know if I should include this last one. To be honest, some things just aren't worth wasting energy repeating.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I sometimes want to confront people, look them in the eye, and say &amp;quot;Convenience yourself all you'd like - but who are you going to go to when your last choice isn't there anymore?&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who knows. Maybe I will one day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And maybe, one day later, I'll be strong enough to mean it.&lt;br /&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:breakingbeanie:42535</id>
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    <title>P90X - X-treme, baby!</title>
    <published>2009-10-22T21:11:16Z</published>
    <updated>2009-10-22T21:11:16Z</updated>
    <content type="html">Okay, so bear with me for a second while I give you the back story. It's sort of important, considering the posts here for the next 90 (well, 86) days will be about this story.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last year, around September, my dad decided eh wanted to get into shape for his 40th birthday, and for his 2nd degree black belt test. He bought this workout program off the TV, and I didn't believe it was going to work (things from infomercials rarely do). But sure enough, 90 days later, Dad was ripped. He loved it so much that he's on his... fourth round of P90x. I watched an infomercial on it, and the reason it works is called &amp;quot;muscle confusion&amp;quot;. Something about not working the same musces all of the time or something. It's pretty cool, so I decided I wanted to do it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let me tell you. it's hard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;strong&gt;DAY&amp;nbsp;ONE (10/19/09):&amp;nbsp;Chest and Back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(I did all of the pushups on my knees, and all of the pullups using a red, loose tension band. There are two rounds, repeating the same twelve exercises. I could only do most of round 1.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Standard pushups: 25&lt;br /&gt;Wide-Front Pull Ups: 20&lt;br /&gt;Military Pushups: 12&lt;br /&gt;Reverse Grip Chin Ups: 20&lt;br /&gt;Wide Fly Push Ups: 10&lt;br /&gt;Closed Grip Overhand Pullups: 20&lt;br /&gt;Decline Pushups: 2 =(&lt;br /&gt;Heavy Pants: 8 (these I did with 8 lbs. bars)&lt;br /&gt;Diamond Pushups: 10&lt;br /&gt;Lowmowers: N/A&lt;br /&gt;Dive-bomber Pushups: N/A&lt;br /&gt;Bent Over back&amp;nbsp;Flys: N/A&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;Ab Ripper X:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Over three hundred moves. Don't feel like recording.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;DAY&amp;nbsp;TWO&amp;nbsp;(10/20/09):&amp;nbsp;PLYOMETRICS&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/u&gt;This was a LOT of jumping cardio. There was nothing to really record (or maybe I forgot), but I know I got thruogh all 58 minutes and 42 seconds of it. yay me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;DAY&amp;nbsp;THREE (10/21/09): Shoulders and Arms&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was by far the most painful day. I can definately feel it today, but it's a good kind of burn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(All of these exercises were repeated in threes (i.e; 1-2-3-1-2-3-1-2-3, 4-5-6-4-5-6-4-5-6... etc, etc; all were done using 8 lbs bars)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alternating Shoulder Press: 15 / 14 / 14&lt;br /&gt;In/Out Bicep Curls: 15 / 16 / 16&lt;br /&gt;Tricep Kickbacks : 8 / 8 / 7&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Deep Swimmers Press: 16 / 16 / 16&lt;br /&gt;Full Supination Concentration Curls : 10 / 10 / 10&lt;br /&gt;Chair Dips: 8 / 8 / 6&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Upright Rows: 16 / 16 / 14&lt;br /&gt;Static Arm Curls: 16 / 16 / 16&lt;br /&gt;Flip Grip Kickbacks: 10 / 10 / 10&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seated Two Angle Lifts: 14 / 14 / 10&lt;br /&gt;Crouching Cohen Curls: 6 / 6 /&amp;nbsp;6&lt;br /&gt;Lying Down Bicep Presses: 15 / 13 / 14&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was a bonus round, but I was so worn out, I thought I'd hurt myself, so I didn't do the last three (really nine) exercises.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Ab Ripper X&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/u&gt;In and Outs: 23&lt;br /&gt;Bicycle: 25&lt;br /&gt;Bicycle in reverse (coordination screwed me up): 17&lt;br /&gt;Crunchy Frog: 14&lt;br /&gt;Fifer Scissors: 15&lt;br /&gt;Hip Rock and Raise: 14&lt;br /&gt;Pulse-ups/Heels to Heaven: 15&lt;br /&gt;V-up roll ups: 10&lt;br /&gt;Obliques: 10 on each side&lt;br /&gt;Leg climbs: OUCH. 14.&lt;br /&gt;Mason twist: 20.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Ab Ripper X video is just about 20 minutes long, but it's by far the most movement-packed 20 minutes of my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today is &lt;strong&gt;&lt;u&gt;DAY FOUR:&amp;nbsp;YOGAX&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;. I have yet to do it today - I probably will when&amp;nbsp;I get home from Zach's later tonight, but I've done it before, and I know that I won't be walking very much tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But it feels good to be getting into shape. =]&lt;br /&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:breakingbeanie:42338</id>
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    <title>Oh dear sweet truth.</title>
    <published>2009-10-20T02:11:35Z</published>
    <updated>2009-10-20T02:11:35Z</updated>
    <content type="html">Hahahahahahahahaha.&lt;br /&gt;Oh irony, you're a sweet, love-deserving bitch.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:breakingbeanie:42114</id>
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    <title>Rant.</title>
    <published>2009-10-16T23:12:33Z</published>
    <updated>2009-10-16T23:12:33Z</updated>
    <lj:music>Love Bites. Oh, irony.</lj:music>
    <content type="html">FIRST.&lt;br /&gt;It's been almost a year since I had the brains to leave you. &amp;nbsp;You were nothing but a waste of time and energy. A waste of six months of my life that I could have spent making myself better, but instead let you just make me worse. It's been eight months since i put in the order, two since it let up (almost three), and I haven't heard a word from you. I wish&amp;nbsp;I could say I want you to be happy, but I don't. I really want you to suffer and be miserable once you realize that you're nothing but a mind-fucking monster. Do&amp;nbsp;I wish you happiness? Hell no. I wish you an eternity in hell, you sick, miserable bastard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SECOND.&lt;br /&gt;Okay, let's get something straight here. I AM&amp;nbsp;NOT&amp;nbsp;THE&amp;nbsp;GIRLFRIEND&amp;nbsp;STEALER. I have tried to be an adult about this, but you know what? Fuck it. If everyone else wants to act childish, then I sure as hell will too.&amp;nbsp;maybe stooping to their level will make some sense to them. So let's clear up some rumors:&lt;br /&gt;-I never cheated on Zach with his sister. This is NOT&amp;nbsp;the reason we broke up. I don't know where or how this started, but it's a lie. Yes, I&amp;nbsp; cheated on Zach. Yes, it was the worst mistake of my life. No, it was not with his sister. Give him some credit - the guy's smart enough to have figured out if I was. It would have been right under his nose. God damn.&lt;br /&gt;-Zach DID&amp;nbsp;NOT&amp;nbsp;cheat on Lynn with me. I know why he and Lynn broke up; he knows why he and Lynn broke up; LYNN knows why he and Lynn broke up. It's not my business to put all over the internet, so&amp;nbsp;I won't. HOWEVER. Zach didn't cheat on her with me. He couldn't have - we didn't talk for 99% of the time they were even dating. No contact, at all. We started talking at his sister's party. I had no idea at all that he and Lynn were even having problems. So stfu. Thanks.&lt;br /&gt;-Once again, I&amp;nbsp;AM&amp;nbsp;NOT&amp;nbsp;THE&amp;nbsp;GIRLFRIEND&amp;nbsp;STEALER. I am SO&amp;nbsp;SICK of mine and Lynn's mutual &amp;quot;friends&amp;quot; bitching me out because oh God, I stole Lynn's boyfriend! Whoa whoa whoa, WAITAMINUTE. Zach and I dated for TWO&amp;nbsp;AND&amp;nbsp;A&amp;nbsp;HALF&amp;nbsp;YEARS. Almost our ENTIRE&amp;nbsp;high school careers. Anyone with EYES&amp;nbsp;could tell. However, it was perfectly okay for Lynn, one of my best friends in high school, to date Zach - AND&amp;nbsp;AVOID&amp;nbsp;IT&amp;nbsp;WHEN&amp;nbsp;I&amp;nbsp;BROUGHT&amp;nbsp;IT&amp;nbsp;UP. No, she was not woman enough to tell me herself, thanks. However, when she and Zach break up, and Zach and I started dating, OH&amp;nbsp;MY&amp;nbsp;GOD. THAT'S&amp;nbsp;HORRIBLE. Shut the hell up, would you all? &lt;br /&gt;If Zach can forgive me, and put it in the past, you all should too. Oh, I get being defensive of your friend - I'd kill any ass that cheated on Allie and Catie. However, it wouldn't be my place to bitch and whine and act like a child if they got back together. I'd be on edge, but if the guy changed, hey, good for them. You all need to grow the fuck up, and get whatever chip you have on your shoulder, and shove it up your asses. I am tired of being treated like the bitch ex-girlfriend/girlfriend stealer whateverthehell else.&lt;br /&gt;Grow up. Thanks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THIRD.&lt;br /&gt;What. The HELL. Is wrong with you. This is the seventh suspension. In a month and a half. You have actually spent more time&amp;nbsp;being suspended than you have actually IN&amp;nbsp;SCHOOL. W'e've tried yelling, punishing, talking, relating. We know, trust me. We know. You have NOTHING&amp;nbsp;to rebel against, boy. Take it from the girl who thought she had the WORLD&amp;nbsp;to rebel against. You'll find out pretty damn quick how good you actually have it. So what will you rebel against then? Yeah, they're going to punish you when you get in trouble.&amp;nbsp;Last time I checked, that's what parents do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FOUR.&lt;br /&gt;I am trying. I really am. It's hard to save up when you make two $170 paychecks and two $90 paychecks a months, spend AT&amp;nbsp;LEAST&amp;nbsp;$60 in gas every three weeks, and pay $110 in insurance for four months straight. Not to mention the bill for school, the assload to spend in books, and razors and whatever else i need. I barely have enough money to spend $20 on myself every two weeks. I'm sorry - i know you want me to buy a car. I know I should get another job. But the truth? Being in ONE&amp;nbsp;CLASS&amp;nbsp;and working THREE&amp;nbsp;DAYS&amp;nbsp;A&amp;nbsp;WEEK&amp;nbsp;puts me on the verge of a panic attack. Do I know why? No. But I might spaz out if I work every day, plus go to school three nights a week. I just don't think&amp;nbsp;I can balance school and two jobs. I'm sorry, but I am only human.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FIVE.&lt;br /&gt;If you're gone, that's great. If you want to stay gone, that's fine too. I've gotten used to it. Don't, however, leave little hints and memos that you've been back but didn't want to talk to me. Don't find ways to tell me that you thought those two years were a waste of time. Useless. Nothing came from them.&lt;br /&gt;In all honesty? I think it's really you. Do I care? Not really - I don't care who's who or what's said from who's mind - I don't care. I really don't. I stopped caring the night you got drunk after knowing I needed a friend. Regardless that I saved your life, and your relationship, and whatever else. I don't care. I just hope you know I find it absolutely hilarious that you're not man enough to tell me all of this shit &lt;em&gt;youself&lt;/em&gt;. Quote unquote.&lt;br /&gt;Have fun, whoever the hell you are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SIX.&lt;br /&gt;I am scared to death. Oh, I've learned my lesson. I promise you that - those six months in hell were enough, even if the suicide attempt hadn't been. I'm not scared of infidelity, on either parts, really. I'm scared because you like to make jokes about how I'm hiding something if I don't let you see my phone right away. Or how there's something you can't see if I don't let you read my PRIVATE&amp;nbsp;JOURNAL. Or whatever you said today - whatever I did - &amp;quot;Oh that's it, we're done, I'm gone.&amp;quot; Yeah, honey, that's not really funny. The thought of losing you again honestly scares me TO&amp;nbsp;DEATH. I'm afraid I'm going to snap one day, and yell, and get into an argument with you so bad, I end up pushing you away anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SEVEN.&lt;br /&gt;I have absolutely no idea what the hell I'm doing&amp;nbsp;anymore.&lt;br /&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:breakingbeanie:41796</id>
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    <title>breakingbeanie @ 2009-10-15T01:07:00</title>
    <published>2009-10-15T05:08:03Z</published>
    <updated>2009-10-15T05:08:03Z</updated>
    <content type="html">&amp;quot;He hated her now. He loved her, too, but it was a cold, hard hurting love.&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought, when I first read this, that it reminded me of you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, I realize I was wrong.&lt;br /&gt;Now, I realize that I just hate you.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:breakingbeanie:41718</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://breakingbeanie.livejournal.com/41718.html"/>
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    <title>Dear Stranger.</title>
    <published>2009-09-18T04:12:54Z</published>
    <updated>2009-09-18T04:12:54Z</updated>
    <content type="html">I dreamt about last night. We were under the tree. It wasn't the same as the other times though. It was just a dream. I still have the pictures showing the path from the tree to my bedroom, because I thought it was ridiculously creepy how you knew what my house looked like. And you had never even seen it. I almost tried going back to our tree last night, too - but then I figured that I'd be wasting my time. Probably.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I read the story I wrote based on our RPG again. It has a sequel now, you know. It made me wonder where it would have ended up if we had ever finished it. That and the one about the 7th saint. Do you remember? We left off with the boy (Alex, maybe?) coming to save the girl. They were about to have sex. We never got any further than that. I just wonder, that's all. I'm writing one based on that RPG, too. With much more creative liberty than I did with &lt;em&gt;Breaching Midnight&lt;/em&gt;. It's coming along fine, when I make myself sit down to write it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember the night last summer when I was on vacation with my family. I remember how much it hurt to text her and convince her to take you back. But it's what you wanted. She made you happy. And then... you gave it up? I still don't understand that. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've come to the realization that I did when I thought I was over Zach. I still love you. I do. But it's not the same anymore. And no, that's not the &amp;quot;it's-not-the-same-because-i-dont-want-it-to-be&amp;quot; thing. It's really just not the same. It hasn't been for a really long time. You started out as my friend. I remember getting online every night, &lt;em&gt;so&lt;/em&gt; excited to talk to you. You were like my little pen-pal. I loved it - daydreaming about what we'd talk about that night online, the secrets I'd tell you. December 23rd, 2005. Almost four years ago... Wow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then, I did fall in love with you. As much as I could, anyway. Maybe i fell in love with an idea. Or a personality. But I didn't care. I did love you. And then I met Zach, and you met Sarah, and something happened then that would change us forever. I don't think either of us thought I'd be with Zach for two and a half years. I cerrtainly didn't. But I'm glad I was. I really love him, you know. And I think if you were here, you might find a way to be happy for me. We're going to married soon. That's the plan, anyway. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know why I'm babbling. I miss you. I really do. Sometimes I still dream about you. And strangely, you're the only person I do dream about. When I do dream, anyway. And... I can sleep okay. It's almost as good as sleeping in Zach's arms - that feeling of being comforted and safe, I mean.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope you're happy... Er. Well. &lt;br /&gt;Yeah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes. It's still possible to love a shadow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:breakingbeanie:41352</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://breakingbeanie.livejournal.com/41352.html"/>
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    <title>breakingbeanie @ 2009-09-15T02:58:00</title>
    <published>2009-09-15T07:01:05Z</published>
    <updated>2009-09-15T07:01:05Z</updated>
    <content type="html">I can't figure you out; the more i try, the more frustrated I make myself. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every thing I can ever think of, every big huge significant thing in my life, was probably for your benefit. And the worst part is, is I don't know whether you're doing it to please yourself, or doing it because you think that's what others want to see. I don't know. And I've told myself I want to give up trying to figure you out. But here I am, at three in the morning, writing, because my mind is so wrapped around this. Years now. Years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the worst part is that I don't think you'll ever outgrow this fantasy world you live in. And that scares me.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:breakingbeanie:41047</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://breakingbeanie.livejournal.com/41047.html"/>
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    <title>It's official.</title>
    <published>2009-09-01T04:58:34Z</published>
    <updated>2009-09-01T04:58:34Z</updated>
    <content type="html">&lt;lj-embed id="25" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I officially have a crush on Dr. Spencer Reid from Criminal Minds.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No, no, not Matthew Gubler. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dr. Freaking. Spencer. Reid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:breakingbeanie:40894</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://breakingbeanie.livejournal.com/40894.html"/>
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    <title>Psychoanalysis.</title>
    <published>2009-08-26T03:59:01Z</published>
    <updated>2009-08-26T03:59:01Z</updated>
    <content type="html">Okay. So when I put pictures of him and I on Myspace, and you look at them, that's not my fault. You're the one who wants to torture yourself. So knock yourself out. But when YOU&amp;nbsp;put pictures of him and you on Myspace, I think that's just a bit creepy-psycho-obsessive-fuckin'weird. Go get help. Or learn to move on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This has been a service announcement from your friendly neighborhood psychological girlfriend. Thanks.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:breakingbeanie:40694</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://breakingbeanie.livejournal.com/40694.html"/>
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    <title>upon realizing...</title>
    <published>2009-08-15T17:37:34Z</published>
    <updated>2009-08-15T17:37:34Z</updated>
    <content type="html">I've never been the type of person to be interested in multiple guys - or girls, as it were. Not at once, not one right after the other. And please don't get me wrong; I have nothing against those that do. If they're happy, then that's all that matters, isn't it? I think so. But I've never been... interested, I suppose, in being the girl all of the guys wanted to date.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; When I was first interested in boys, it was the second grade. I had the biggest crush on Nate Hunt through the third grade. I never dated him, but he became one of my best friends. We hung out a lot during the summer before fourth grade, and even then, I was mature enough to realize that, hey, this isn't gonna work. So you win some, you lose some.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; Enter Andrew Martin, the new kid. Now you have to understand that in Riviera Beach, every one knows EVERY ONE. My parents went to school with my class mates' parents, and so on. And here comes this new guy. Naturally, all of the girls (yes, even in fourth grade) wanted his attention. I just happened to have the seat next to him. Maybe three weeks into school, he 'asked me out'. He was the first boy at any of my birthday parties besides family. Pasadena Roller Rink. We held hands on the couples' skate. Oh, be still my beating heart.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; Andrew and I 'dated' until half-way through the summer before fifth grade. He was the first 'bad breakup' I ever had. We ignored each other, we picked on each other, and ironically were stuck next to each other on the bus in middle school.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; &amp;nbsp;My mother moved into a townhouse the week before fifth grade, and at the end of the row, three boys visited their grandmother every weekend. Jeffrey, Josh, and Shane. The former was my age, the middle my brother's, and the latter was a few years younger than my brother and Josh. It started out we all just live-action role-played Star Wars and watched Harry Potter in our basement. Eventually, I confided to Karen, my best friend at the time, that I really liked this boy (i even told him, by way of that stupid game where you go under water in the pool and say something. Actually, that's when I found out he liked me to). And she basically said &amp;quot;So then just kiss him.&amp;quot; I was in the sixth grade, almost seventh by this point.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; Unbeknown to me, Jeff was standing right behind me while we were talking online. So, later that day, we were all playing outside (Cops and Robbers, if I recall correctly), and Jeff asked me if I was going to kiss him. So I kissed his cheek. And then he asked if he could kiss me; and thus, Erica's first real 'french' kiss came into existence.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; Jeff and I were best friends, and dating unofficially all the way up until the summer before eighth grade, when my mother moved from the townhouse closer to where my dad lived. At first, Jeff and I kept in contact. Then, one day in the beginning of ninth grade, I stumbled upon his number, and just decided to call him. We talked for a while, and he asked me to his mixer (He goes... went?... to Cardinal Gibbons). I said yes.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; Then came this first time I ever mixed business and pleasure (or &amp;quot;shitting where you eat&amp;quot;, as some call it). Jordan Chambliss. It was strange; we had never really talked much in the taekwondo school. He was a black belt, I was just starting out. He was really close to our friend Caitlin, but he and I never really talked. Well, one day in September, Caitlin told me that he was moving to Hawaii in December. So me, being the dummy that I am, went up to him and scowled. &amp;quot;You didn't tell me you were moving to Hawaii!&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; That night, I got an Instant Message from him. We talked every day for a week, and then told each other we liked each other, but that getting into anything wouldn't be a good idea because he was moving soon. We agreed, talked another week, and he said &amp;quot;Screw it. I like you, I want to date you.&amp;quot; So we dated, and I told Jeff I couldn't go to his mixer. Last I heard (from a recent ex, ironically), he was happy with a girl named Lauren, who he had been dating since I told him I couldn't go to the mixer.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; Jordan and I dated until January, when we decided that a long distance relationship just couldn't work. He's still my best friend.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; So go along to February. Competition team at the Taekwondo school. Our first qualifier is coming up, and everyone's excited - if we place within the top eight of our division, we go to the AAU Nationals that summer. Well, Caitlin told me that Jordan was coming to train and compete with our school. She also told me that he'd be staying with her, and they would be home alon Friday night with nothing to do. Hm. Erica didn't like that too much. So I devised a plan that all of the teens from the taekwondo team should go see a movie that Friday, in celebration and relaxation before the tournament that Saturday. So I asked all the teens, including Alison Hahn, who I hadn't really talked to that much. But she smiled and asked if she could bring her little brother. Now I'm thinking that her little brother is my little brother's age, ignoring that fact that Allie is well over three years older than I am.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; I found out that Zachary hahn was &lt;i&gt;not&lt;/i&gt; my little brother's age. Rather embarrassingly, actually, but that's a different story for a different day. Zach and I didn't talk much that night, but we talked on Myspace, and then on AIM, and eventually on the phone. he'd come talk to me in the mornings before school, and then on the phone that night. It was almost three weeks before we kissed, and he asked me out. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; I guess... the entire point is that I've always thought it a little strange that I found my... soul mate at such a young age. During out breakup last year, I thought that I was so torn up and still in love with him because he was my first everything. He was my first real boyfriend, my first love, and a bunch of other things not decent for public viewing. but I've come to realize that the reason I held on to him so much was because he was my soulmate. We didn't talk or see each other for nearly a year, and I was still so desperately in love with him. So much, in fact, that I accepted that he was happy with someone else just because I really &lt;i&gt;did&lt;/i&gt; want to be happy. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; But... If there isn't a God up there, and there is no such thing as fate, then someone answer me this, because I've been wondering myself. Our love has been through so much. Hell and back. And neither of us forgot the other, couldn't get over the other, and wanted to be with the other again. And so we got back together. And it's like... nothing changed at all. I thought we had both changed so much from the person we were a year ago. And in all reality, we did. We grew up, matured, found our place in life... And we still fit together so wonderfully. It's like this past year didn't exist.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; So tell me; Zachary and I had the same thoughts, feelings, and desires this past entire year without seeing each other, or talking to each other. So how do two people whose love has seen so much fall back into place so easily... if they're not each others' soul mates?&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt; Zachary David, I've said it before and I'll say it again; I love you now and forever.&lt;br /&gt;</content>
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  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:breakingbeanie:40341</id>
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    <title>It's nearly four in the morning.</title>
    <published>2009-08-13T07:42:24Z</published>
    <updated>2009-08-13T07:42:24Z</updated>
    <content type="html">and I'm thinking about college? Seriously? Oh fuck this. I jst need to set a plan or something somewhere besides my mind. I'll go up Friday morning before Zach wakes up and register for ths stupid english class. Thats what ill do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ugh&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe i can sleep now.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:breakingbeanie:40122</id>
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    <title>I have no idea.</title>
    <published>2009-08-05T20:03:43Z</published>
    <updated>2009-08-05T20:03:43Z</updated>
    <content type="html">I have no idea what I want to do with my life. None. I don't have a &lt;em&gt;passion&lt;/em&gt; for anything. I don't like anything enough to want to make a living out of it. I really don't But i feel like I should. Zachary wants to go into architecture. Allie wants to go into teaching. Kyle is a chemical engineer. My dad knew what he wanted to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why don't I?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:breakingbeanie:39755</id>
    <link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://breakingbeanie.livejournal.com/39755.html"/>
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    <title>breakingbeanie @ 2009-08-03T23:22:00</title>
    <published>2009-08-04T03:28:45Z</published>
    <updated>2009-08-04T03:28:45Z</updated>
    <content type="html">I kind of realized that I'm not really sure what I'm doing.I don't really have a schedule. I don't really have a bed time, or a time to wake up. I don't really have anywhere I need to be, save work twice or thrice a week. I don't have any appointments, I don't have anything that needs doing. And you know what?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's okay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I sat outside today with the puppy, and while he was running around, I remembered chasing Maggie through the yard when i was eight. And then I was thinking about the time I actually used to play until it got too dark to see. When I would come inside and smell like dirt and itch like crazy from rolling around in the grass. And I decided I missed it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I decided I wouldn't go back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't have a plan. I have a goal, and I have a hope; i want to become a psychologist. I've wanted that since tenth grade. I want a family. I want children. I want a house with a bay window where I can curl up and read. But do&amp;nbsp;i have a plan? For now, I guess, but the future is always subject to change. I have a best friend. I have a boyfriend. They tell me they'll be with me forever. And I believe them. It's a constant now. it feels good. I've realized what a family is. I realized how they act, how they think they should act, and how they really shouldn't act. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I say demise, you think of...?&amp;euro;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't ask me. I'm just here.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:breakingbeanie:39436</id>
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    <title>Okay, look.</title>
    <published>2009-08-02T22:35:14Z</published>
    <updated>2009-08-02T22:35:14Z</updated>
    <content type="html">Am I back with Zach? Yeah. Big deal. Am I a little annoyed that you keep texting him? Yeah, so what? Do I feel bad for you? I have to say yes, because i've been in your position. Trust me. I know what it's like, it al being my fault. I know what it's like, to have my choices ruin a great thing. Do&amp;nbsp;i want you to keep texting him and asking if he'll ever forgive you? Hell no! You made your choice. You told him the truth. And he told you what it would be like. I'm sorry you're hurting. I really am. But I did nothing to you.&amp;nbsp;Stop being a bitch. Grow the fuck up. The entire world does not need to know tha tyou're &amp;quot;more than hurt&amp;quot;. THey don't. And they probably don't care.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Grow up. Make your bed and lie in it.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:breakingbeanie:39244</id>
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    <title>This is what dreams are made of.</title>
    <published>2009-07-20T02:09:03Z</published>
    <updated>2009-07-20T22:43:29Z</updated>
    <content type="html">Is this really happening? Is this really happening to &lt;em&gt;me&lt;/em&gt;? Me. Me, the unluckiest, most undeserving of all things... I get a second chance?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just a month ago - almost exactly a month ago, I wrote a blog on Myspace (inserted at the end of this here blog). And you know, I was really okay writing it. Zach and I had our first conversation then. It wan't that awkward at all, but god did my heart &lt;em&gt;race&lt;/em&gt;. he was still so beautiful. Still with that obnoxiously intoxicating laugh. But I was okay. He was happy. I was happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Now, skip forward to Monday. Start the random text conversation between one Erica, and one Zach. Text all week long. Fast forward to last night, when Zach sends Erica a text saying &amp;quot;I want to give us another chance.&amp;quot; Racing heart, heart attack, fainting spell. Huh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Someone pinch me. I guess a little patience paid off. Maybe it's true, what they say - you never forget your first love.&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;a name="cutid1"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogContent"&gt;Huh. I remember being &lt;i&gt;so&lt;/i&gt; mad when Allie told me about the writing on your truck for your birthday. Strange, the things that make us mad, isn't it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today... has been very strange for me on my trip down memory lane. I guess I should explain by saying that I had a dream about you last night. It was nothing important, or relevant, but there you were. The first dream I had had about you since November. It scared me, to be honest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I could probably have let it go, but it got me thinking. I started thinking about the one day that mom and I got into an argument and she wouldn't get off of the phone to let me call you to come get me. So I forced your little sister to bring you to the computer, and when you saw I needed you, you were at my door five minutes later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then I was thinking about the day we watched &lt;i&gt;Across the Universe&lt;/i&gt;. Or, rather, I watched it. I remember being so upset because you had to help David clean up the boat, and when you came back two hours later, and saw me crying, you cried right along with me. And you curled up on my chest, told me you didn't like making me cry, and I held you and sung &amp;quot;Hey Jude&amp;quot; to you until we both just about fell asleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then, everything. It was just a spiral of memories. The first snow fall where you jumped on the trampoline with Christopher, and played around with Emily and I. Watching the snow from your bedroom window with you hugging me from behind. Drinking on your pier with Brian and Gina. Staying up during the summer and watching Degrassi while we stayed on the phone until one, two in the morning. Fuddrucker's with Matt. Otakon that summer with everyone (how hectic was THAT?). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then the memories came that ended up being our downfall. The many missed calls. The many broken plans. The night we sat on the swings and you chased me when I tried to break up with you. Laying on the tennis court and pointing our constellations after our first &lt;i&gt;real&lt;/i&gt; fight. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But then, I remembered the accident last February. Do you remember? You were taking me to get the drug test for the job your mom gave me. We were almost there, too. The car hit us, we spun, and when we stopped, the first thing you did was pull me to you and said &amp;quot;Just kiss me. Please just kiss me.&amp;quot;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I always thought that if we ever broke up, it'd be easy for&amp;nbsp; me to move on. After all, I had been left before. And we were young - we'd be okay, right? I don't know anymore. Yes, I was fourteen when we started dating, but we dated for two and a half years. I spent my developmental teenage years with you by my side, and when we broke up... I was lost. I didn't know who Erica was. So I tried finding her. Was she there, with Skye? You'll never know how much that relationship epically failed. Was she alone, in her dark corner of isolation? That hurt too much. I could almost see her when I hung out with your sister. I'm sorry if that hurt you, but it saved my life. Your sister. Saved my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It took the suicide attempt to find out I wasn't in any of those places. I wasn't anywhere.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I left the hospital. I was completely lost. But I was healing. I found my best friend. I fell in love with her, and most importantly, with myself. I dyed my hair pink, dated a girl, and got drunk. Completely trashed. I smoked pot for the first time, and loved it. I spent thirty dollars a week on cigarettes just because there was no one there to stop me. I argued with my parents because there was nothing they could take away from me. I failed my first class, drove my &amp;quot;first car&amp;quot;, and I started dating again. I thought I fell in love with my best friend. Found out he was a little too clingy, so I stopped dating him. I got my industrial pierced. I dyed my whole head red. I chopped my hair short, just like you hated. And I got a tattoo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess what I mean to tell you is that I found out who I am by not trying to figure it out at all. I just lived; I did what I wanted to do, because there was no one to get mad at me. There was no one for me to check in with. There was no one to fight over about drinking or smoking or body piercings or whatever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't mean to hurt you (not that you'll ever really read this, I guess), but... to thank you, I guess. You taught me so many things; you taught me how to trust someone, and how to be trusted. You taught me that love can be the most beautiful thing in the world, but can destroy you in a heartbeat. You taught me that the things worth fighting for shouldn't have to be fought for.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess... That I've come to realize that we just weren't meant for each other. both of us knew it, but neither would admit it. We weren't wrong, we were just growing up. I know you're not the same Zachary that would come tuck me into bed before he left for the night after a movie. But that's okay, because I'm not the same Erica who called you just to get into I Love You fights. I'm not the same little blue-eyed blonde that wanted nothing more then to make you happy. And you're not the same growth-spurting goof ball that would watch &lt;i&gt;Little Women&lt;/i&gt; with me. But that's okay, because even though we're not dating, or even talking, I know that somewhere, you're still my Zachabee. I'm happy now. And I hope you are too. And it's okay now, because I realize that I'm always going to love you, in some way or another. And it used to hurt, but now, it's just a fact. Now, it's okay, because I know that in some way or another, somewhere, you're always going to love me, too.								 								  								                                 .&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;p&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;</content>
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  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:breakingbeanie:39088</id>
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    <title>DEYD.</title>
    <published>2009-05-17T03:44:08Z</published>
    <updated>2009-05-17T03:44:08Z</updated>
    <content type="html">DEYD. Yes. D-E-Y-D, dead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BUT&amp;nbsp;STILL&amp;nbsp;ALIVE.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Uhm. Hmm. Dyed my hair red. Got a tattoo. Graduating in two weeks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's pretty much it.</content>
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  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:breakingbeanie:38858</id>
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    <title>Soundtrack Of My Life.</title>
    <published>2009-01-27T20:49:41Z</published>
    <updated>2009-01-27T20:49:41Z</updated>
    <content type="html">So. Instead of writing some deep, profoundly meaningful post, I'll just give you a little insight as to where I am in life based on a soundtrack I made. Now, not all of these songs have to do with &lt;em&gt;me&lt;/em&gt; fully.&amp;nbsp;Some have to do with friends, or not-friends, or whatever.&lt;br /&gt;So. Enjoy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;MY&amp;nbsp;LIFE&amp;nbsp;IN&amp;nbsp;GENERAL.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;lj-embed id="10" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;lj-embed id="11" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;lj-embed id="12" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;DEAREST GIA.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;lj-embed id="13" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;lj-embed id="14" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;lj-embed id="15" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;BLAKE.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;lj-embed id="16" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;lj-embed id="17" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;FAMILY. (CHRIS SPECIFICALLY&amp;nbsp;ON&amp;nbsp;THE&amp;nbsp;LAST&amp;nbsp;VIDEO)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;lj-embed id="18" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;lj-embed id="19" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;lj-embed id="20" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;lj-embed id="21" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;ASSHOLE. YEAH, YOU&amp;nbsp;KNOW&amp;nbsp;WHO&amp;nbsp;YOU&amp;nbsp;ARE.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;lj-embed id="22" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;lj-embed id="23" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;ZACH.&lt;lj-embed id="24" /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So.&amp;nbsp;That's a pretty bad example of how I feel about you. I'm not still in love with you. I don't want us to be together, because we've hurt each other too much. But I do still care about your happiness, and I hope you find it. I really do wish you well.</content>
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