Македонија на Македонците!
and changing my name,
not like legally, but im tired of the nickname everyone uses for me.
i need change, something new.
its a new school, new people, so its time for a new thing.
is often a taboo topic for me. my mom has even called me a prude. im not sure what it is but i feel very awkward talking about it and even weirder thinking about it. my sexual history is not really something open for discussion unless others bring it up. i find myself trying to change the topic of conversation or making others feel just as uncomfortable so im not alone. pathetic, i know. but today, right now, i feel like expressing myself. i remember promising myself years ago that i would never ever have sex until i was 18. i always felt that i was not mature enough, or old enough, or experienced enough. which was all true. but i was mostly just scared. scared of growing up, scared of something bad happening. scared that my life would change. this summer that changed a little. i made a very concious decision that some people dont get to make. i made the decision to give it up. in my opinion, the most sacred thing any girl can give away. the way i figured is this: i love him (cheesy i know, but true) and even IF we break up i will NOT regret that it was him. i feel like there is so much more i want to say and i just cant think of it at this moment. dont be too scared to live your life, or precious moments will pass you by.
its really pathetic to watch you. groveling around the house. asking me for money. ‘oh i promise i’ll pay you back’ but thats what you always say. its sad. to see you sneaking into our rooms and looking for loose change. i understand. you have to feed it. your addiction. but not coming from me. i have no money. i have nothing. not a father. not a friend in you. you give me nothing, and i give you that nothing in return. no respect, no love. learn to live with it. because until i get something, neither will you.
When you weren’t looking the child became a woman, though she wasn’t ready to. Don’t ask how or why. Those questions are not the important ones. Can’t you see you didn’t care enough to notice? How will you feel if we have no more time together? I wonder if you’re sorry now about the way you locked your heart, access denied to the beggar at your door. She’s nobody, only me.