The Phi Psi Incident – December 1st 2017

I’m still doing my make up when my phone buzzes for the umpteenth time this hour. “Have you decided which dress you’re wearing?” “How are you doing your hair?” “What type of alcohol do you want?” “What time should I come over to pregame before the like actual pregame pregame?” “Are you going to go home with your date after?” “Have you heard from John?” “I bet John’s date is going to be ugly AF” “Does he know you’re going with Ben?” “Can you send me a link to my date’s fb profile, I wanna check him out” “how tall is my date?” I roll my eyes and turn my phone over, I was already beginning to regret asking Tessa if she wanted me to get her a date to phi psi’s winter formal, and the night hasn’t even begun yet.

I don’t want to talk about John; no, I haven’t told him his pledge brother asked me to their date party the very same day we broke up, and no, I’m almost positive he has absolutely no idea I’m going to be there.

As Taylor Swift’s song, Look what you made me do starts playing, I pick up my phone and tell Tessa to come over at 8:30 and to bring champagne. I also tell her I don’t want to talk about John, but I’m sure his date will be some underage tramp he picked up at Rounders the night before.

At exactly 8:32, Tessa comes over and we ooh and aah over each other’s full-length dresses while we sip our Andre and gossip about the boys taking us.

“Are you worried at all about seeing John and how he’ll react to you being there? I mean, it’s not like you’re going with some one random, you’re going with one of his pledge brothers…” Tessa asks me as innocently as she can muster, but I can tell she is desperate for the gossip.

How do I answer without answering? Yes, I’m fucking terrified of seeing him.

“It’s whatever, he’ll just have to get over it.”

“Well, he’s an asshole for what he did. You deserve way better.”

Then why do I want to apologize to him so badly? Why do I feel so at fault?

It’s been months since Tessa and I have hung out as friends, as we’ve only just made up over a fight from September a few days earlier and it’s now December, the threat of snow on the forecast and a day off in an email from the school’s president in our inboxes. I think back to the October evening when things between us had finally hit a climax, and she’d actually tried to punch me outside of a bar in town just for hanging out with her ex boyfriend, even though she knew I’d been talking to John at that point. I remember her pulling her fist back, standing at her full 5 feet 5 inches, pushing her chest out and jutting her chin up as if to make herself seem taller than my 5’10. She’d stood there with her fist pulled back, screaming at me, entirely incoherently, and distantly behind her, I spotted her best friend Madison running toward us shouting and waving her arms around, “Tessa, NOOOO! We’re classier than that! We’re classier than that!”

She never did punch me, and after several days of living in fear she was going to run me over with her car if/when she saw me again, we both moved on from what had happened. However, so long as her ex had remained one of my best friends, she and I couldn’t move on officially from what had taken place.

So, it wasn’t until last Monday that we started talking again.

Last Monday was a game changer all around, to say the least. John and I broke up, her ex and I stopped being friends, and Ben asked me to their Christmas formal.

I look at Tessa and shrug, even though I can feel my heart beat picking up to a full sprint. The thought of seeing John tonight gives me anxiety, but I won’t let it show. I shrug and I laugh through the pain of my fluttering and hurting heart, “Like I said, it’s whatever. Hopefully he can be mature about it, but this is John we’re talking about. So… we’ll see.” I take a big sip of my mimosa and vodka, and take a look at the time on my phone. “It’s 9, we should head over to the pregame. I think it’s at that house on 13th, my friend Becky is dating the guy who lives there and she sent me snaps, it looks fucking lit.”

Lies, I just want to get out from these foru walls – it reeks of heart break and scheming in here.

I order an uber and it arrives within minutes. When we arrive at the white house too nice for a bunch of degenerates to be living in, we look at each other, unsure what to do; there isn’t anyone out in front smoking a cigarette or loitering around. We can barely even see movement through the windows. I shrug and say, “this is definitely the house, lets just check it out.”

We stumble in our heels to the front door and push it open, like a gateway to an alternate universe. At least 30 couples are here, in long dresses and tuxes, drinking unhealthy amounts of vodka and whiskey and champagne, while some are blowing down lines of powder on the coffee table, others are taking hits from a blunt being passed around. There’s a game of flip cup going on to our left, guys against their dates, and the girls are dominating them. I close the door behind us as I spot our dates at the kitchen island, they’re laughing over something on Ben’s phone. He looks up, sees me, and smiles even bigger as he waves us over.

For the next hour, we challenge each other to see who can take the most shots, we take goofy photos and cute ones, too. We talk about what we did over the summer, how we both travelled all over Europe and it’s too bad we only met this semester or we could have met up in Amsterdam, Barcelona, or soemwhere. At one point, we sneak off to a bedroom and each do a few bumps of coke, and as we walk out of the room, we giggle like a couple of high school freshmen who just got away with an under-the-shirt make out session in the girls locker room. When it’s time to go to the bar, I find Tessa is already making out with her date, Michael, in some corner.

It’s chilly out, the promise of snow in the coming hours thick in the air, as we line up behind the other fraternity brothers and their dates waiting to get into the bar. Up ahead, I easily spot Alex, John’s roommate, as he towers over everyone else there and do a quick look around to make sure the coast is clear before I go over to say hi. I quickly tell Ben I’ll be right back, a glaze in his eyes tells me he barely hears me, and he doesn’t really care what I do as long as I come back. I grin at him and throw back a heavy sip from his flask, for courage in case I’m wrong and the coast isn’t clear.

I check again to make sure John isn’t with Alex, then I skip over and wrap my arms around Alex’s neck. “Heeeeeey, babe. How are you?” I drawl, as I pull back and away from him. He smiles easily at me.

Good, this means he’s not mad at me and we’re still friends at least.

“I’m good, I’m good. You seem pretty good, too, India. Maybe a little too good?” He chuckles and taps his nose with a finger. He knows me all too well.

I laugh and shrug, “You know me, always good, always great. Where’s your girl, where’s Tori?” I look around for his 5 foot 4 inch girlfriend, thinking maybe I missed her since she’s so small. Instead I come eye-to-eye with John.

Fuck. The coast is most definitely not clear. ABORT ABORT HELP SOS. I telepathically send help to Tessa, but I soon realize it’s a lost cause – shes too enamored with Michael.

I stare at him, as the shock is clearly evident on my face since he smiles uneasily at me. He didn’t expect to see me either, and I should have known better. I had never understood when people said that they wanted the world to eat them up right there, and that they just wanted to disappear; I’d always been someone who liked being seen. Right then though, I finally understood. I’m looking into his blue eyes, and at his dark 5 o’clock shadow. I’m looking at the boy who broke my heart and whose heart I broke just a few days earlier, and I want to disappear. I want to teleport back to my group and erase what has just happened from the universe’s records.

“Hey, Inds. You look nice.” He says to me stiffly but pleasantly, because what else do you say? Fuck you for hooking up with my best friend while we were on a break even though I manipulated you both into it and told you guys to hook up with each other to test your loyalty?

“Oh. Uhmm… hiiii?” My head is mush. I’ve imagined this moment at least a million times since Ben asked me to their date party, I’ve imagined how I would show him what he’s missing and that I’m doing so well without him now. I have imagined this exact moment a million times and I have even fucking practiced in my bathroom mirror; practiced facial expressions, what to say, how to react, I fucking prepared myself for this, and I still said OH UHM HI?! THE FUCK???

I glance to each side anxiously, looking for an exit, and see Tori beaming at me, “hey, India!!” She gives me a big hug, and it gives me enough time to compose myself after my previous severe deficit.

“Oh my god, I literally was just asking Alex where you were because I couldn’t see you, but here you are, and OH MY GOD. You look amazing!” My head is no longer mush, the adrenaline from seeing my ex is kicking in, or maybe it’s just the coke. It really could be either, to be honest.

I notice Tori glance at Alex with a grin, then she says to me, “snow doesn’t hit t-town for a few more hours, but you’ve already hit the slopes? That’s my girl,” she shakes her head with a knowing smile, and a small chuckle.

Damn, I feel like that would make a great instagram caption – I need to remember that one.

John clears his throat behind me. I turn to look at him with an eyebrow raised.

Bring it, ya bitch.

“So, who are yo-“

“Wow, I love your dress! Where is it from?” He’s interrupted by a petite, brunette, girl with a heart-shaped face beside him. Impressively, I actually recognize her from sorority rush earlier that year, but I can’t remember exactly who she is or who she ended up pledging; a forgettable looking girl, with a forgettable name, from a forgettable town.

She probably got dropped.

“Oh, thanks. Not really sure who the designer is, but I got it at Bergdorf’s last time I was home.”

“Well, it looks really good on you. Seriously, you look soooo pretty.” It’s obvious to me then how drunk the girl is. She’s drunk and doesn’t feel the tension, she has no idea who I am, or what the situation is right here right now, and I really should be the bigger person; I shouldn’t start drama, and I should say thank you and walk back to my friends. I should be a role-model for exes and upper classmen. And, I’m about to. But then.

I study her a little closer, and I narrow my eyes.

“Thaaanks, I’d say you look good too, but I thought this was supposed to be a FORMAL event. You know, like, looong dresses?” I roll my eyes and sneer a little.

I notice how close she and John are standing to each other, and how her hand is literally clasping his sleeve to keep herself upright and from losing balance. They are clearly here together. This child is clearly my replacement.

This girl is standing here, complimenting my dress, and hanging onto MY guy.

In a short fucking dress, at a freaking formal.

Freshman slut.

I turn on my heel and strut back to my squad. Michael and Tessa are all over each other again, Ben looks at me with crinkled eyes, “what did you do?”

He loves stirring the pot almost as much as I do, we might be soulmates.

I give him a mischievous smile and a small shrug, “nothing,” I say as innocently as I can.

But, he knows better and he laughs. He takes my hand and pulls me to the front of the line, and we cut in front of everyone. Even John and his forgettable, underage, date. Ben hands the bouncer a benji and the guy wraps our wrists with bands and lets us in.

The rest of the party goes without incident, John stays to one side of the room and we stick to the other. Everyone buys me shots, and everyone dances with me. Despite what happened between John and I, they’re still happy to see me. I notice John eyeing us with a look I can’t understand. A look I don’t recognize.

I ignore it.

Fuck him and his stupid turtleneck.

I go to the bathroom with Tessa and we do more bumps, and when we are done, we go out and drag our dates to a perfect spot in the room for photos. We make the boys take more than they want to, but they do it because they want to take us home at the end of the night. So, they don’t complain.

At some point, Tessa is gone, and I’m alone with Ben and her date. He’s asking me where she went and I tell him I have no idea. “Tessa’s a wild card, she probably went on an adventure,” I tell him.

We don’t see her again for the rest of the night, but I get a text from her roommate that Tessa is safe, but stupid – she went home with her ex. I wasn’t worried, but good to know, I guess.

Around 1am, Ben convinces me we should go home. So, we call an uber and make a show of getting in together while John is outside smoking a cigarette. I notice him flick his barely smoked cigarette to the ground and go inside with a scowl on his face, as we zoom off down the road.

Yeah, watch me and weep, jerk.

Inside the uber, Ben looks at me and laughs a little, “I think you pissed John off sufficiently tonight.”

I look at him guiltily, but before I can say anything he goes on, “I don’t care, it was funny as fuck. You want me to drop you off at home, or do you want to come back to the fraternity house with me? We don’t have to hook up, or anything, we can just smoke a bowl and watch some White Collar, if you want.” I think to myself how sweet Ben is and agree to go back to his place.

After we get there, we struggle to stumble up the steps in the back of the house, we struggle to find his act card to open the door, and we struggle to get his act card to open the door. Once inside though, he gets me some water from the soda machine, and I tell him I’ve never actually been inside their new house before. So, he offers to give me a tour, both of us giggling in fits. When we get to the back room where their Christmas tree stands, I stop to admire the ornaments. It’s really quite pretty. Ben has other ideas though, and grabs one of the ornaments and puts it in his coat pocket, as casually as he would trying to smuggle a still-full yellow hammer out of gallettes, with the least subtlety known to man.

“What are you doing?! That’s steeeealing!” I exclaim to him with wide eyes and mock judgment.

He shrugs his shoulders and gives me a mischievous smile.

“Okay, then, dude, if you’re going to steal something, at least make it something good,” I sigh in exasperation.

“Good? Like what?” He wanders around the room in search of a “good” momento and stops in front of an ugly painting of fruit and flowers hanging in a heavy thick gold frame. The frame is as wide around as my fist. “This is it, this is the one. Help me take it down?”

This kid might be a moron.

I stare at him for a moment, unsure if he’s serious about taking something so obvious, “an alarm isn’t going to go off, is it…?”

Ben narrows his eyes in disbelief at me, then rolls them. “Grab that side and help me,” he directs me.

Nope, definitely a moron. How did he get into college again?

Excitement at doing something we shouldn’t be kicks in though, and I grab the other side. “Slowly… slowly…” the painting is a lot heavier than I expected, and I struggle to carry it as we inch toward the elevator, giggling. Ben, in front, almost trips over his own feet and I can’t help but laugh at the sight. He looks back at me, a genuine smile on his face, and I’m reminded of the day we met. It was at Gallettes and John’s ex had pushed me onto the ground just for dating John, even though I had never met her before nor said anything against her either. I sat there on the ground in shock at what had just taken place, with my drink all over my ruined clothes, and ready to start crying. I looked around for John, but he was nowhere to be found, instead some ginger I’d only ever seen around but never spoken to, with too-long legs and bright blue eyes, was crouching down next to me and asking if I was okay. He gave me a lazy smile, helped me to my feet, and then bought me a new drink. All the while insisting the spill wasn’t so bad and nobody would notice. The dry cleaners turned my shirt away and said there was nothing they could do for it, they offered a good funeral home for it though. He stayed with me until John resurfaced, a time frame that consisted of 3 touchdowns for Alabama.

As I remember this, I regret being so hard on the freshman slut earlier, it’s not her fault he was using her to rebound, and it’s not her fault she’s dumb enough not to know you wear long dresses to formals.

LOL, jk. Yes, it is.

I see that boy now, handsome even for a ginger, with a nice smile, the sort that makes you feel like everything is going to be okay – even if you’re on surveillance stealing a giant, expensive as fuck, painting from a fraternity.

I find myself looking at him in the elevator, and he looks back at me, “what? Hey, don’t drop it! It’s probably super fucking expensive, Inds.” He says this sternly, but his smile says something different, as does his use of my nickname – not many people are allowed to call me by a nickname.

I wish I had met him before John.

When we finally get to his room, we place the painting by his closet and step back to admire our handiwork. I take a snapchat and joke, “take me to your date party and you’ll be sure to ostrasize yourself from a pledge brother and steal a price-less painting.” Ben laughs as he hands me a tshirt and some boxers to sleep in.

He puts on White Collar and I snuggle into him on his bed and I fall asleep wishing he wasn’t in my ex’s fraternity.

When I wake, the first thing I notice is that I’m not wearing any clothes. Like, I’m literally naked.

Then, I notice the door isn’t where I remember it being.

The sheets aren’t the same color blue I remember them being.

And the room temperature. My god, it has to be 100 degrees in here. At least.

I turn my head, and I realize the person next to me has dark hair, not red.


“Oh, thank god. You’re awake.” Michael exclaims.

“Yeah… uhm. What… is going on…? I mean, what… happened…?” I glance at him again awkwardly. I notice at least a foot of distance between us.

“Uh, honestly… at like 3 am, I woke up and you… were just here.” He averts his eyes like he wants to be anywhere but his own bed at this exact moment.


“Oh… my fucking god. Why… I mean, how… did I… I mean, uhm…”

“Ben and I share a bathroom. I guess you went to… relieve yourself… and then just came out the wrong door and… got in the wrong bed…”

“Jesus… fuck. We didn’t… did we…”

Please fucking deny it, please fucking deny it, please just fucking say no, even if we did. Let me live blissfully in ignorance.

“No! No, definitely not.”

Thank god.

“Okay, good. Sooo… why am I not wearing… any clothes… then…?”

“Honestly, you were wearing them at first but I think you took them off because it’s so hot in here… I turned my space heater up all the way before I went to sleep because, you know, the snow and all…”

I really need to cover myself right fucking now. Where is a blanket, or my clothes, or even a freaking paper towel. ANYTHING.

“Right… okay, then… uhm, I’m… gonna go… now.” I shyly get out of the bed, look back and Michael politely turns over in his bed to face the wall and give me privacy. I grab my clothes from beside the bed, throw them on and I run out of the room through the bathroom door, and back into Ben’s room as quickly as I can. Like, maybe if I run fast enough, I can erase what just happened. I jump under Ben’s covers and hope he doesn’t wake up, or that he hasn’t already noticed I was gone.

“Where were you?”


“Uhm… honestly I, uh… went to the bathroom… and just wandered out the wrong door… and kinda got in the wrong bed?” Repeating Michael’s words, I put my hands over my face, so embarrassed over what I had done.

There is silence for a moment, then Ben starts to laugh. He laughs so hard he has to turn over and laugh into his pillow, because his laugh is a loud one, a hearty and real kind, from the gut, a laugh you can’t fake. I put my head into his shoulder, “it’s not funny! I am literally so fucking mortified.”

He gets up a bit and leans forward on his forearms, turns to look at me and says, “I woke up about an hour ago and you were gone, so I just thought you just went home, you know… then I realized all your shit was still here. I thought, no way India’s gonna go home without her keys and phone. So, I was, like, where the fuck did she go? But that actually makes total sense…”

I look at him, sure my face is beat-red from the humiliation. “Please don’t tell anyone this happened, I would die if anyone found out…”

He reassures me he wont, and I call Tessa asking her to come get me. As I dress, Ben pulls me back into the bed, kisses me on the cheek, and tells me he had fun the night before. He says it was worth alienating himself from John. He lets me go and before I leave, I turn back and tell him to let me know what happens with the painting. I joke and say I’m going to tell them he forced me to do it if I get in trouble, he says back “India, there is absolutely no way anyone in this fraternity would believe anyone coerced YOU into something, they’re more likely to believe you coerced ME!”

I laugh and say, “its not not true,” with a shrug.

On my way down the hall, I realize too late I don’t know any side exits and kick myself mentally for not asking Ben the stealthiest way out. Which means I have to use the only exit I know, the one we used last night – through the main dining room.

I check the time on my phone. 12:04pm.

Great. Lunch. Everyone will be here. Fuck my fucking life.

After I find the elevator, I take the time down to collect myself and decide to turn this moment of embarrassment into a moment of power. I throw my shoulders back, put both my heels in one hand, and thank the lord for make-up primer and setting spray when I see my reflection in the doors. I look just as flawless as last night, sans lipstick.

The elevator doors open, and I strut past a group of sophomore brothers I recognize but don’t actually know, who stop and take a long look at the shacker walking by them. I take a hard right, straight into the dining hall, full of guys eating their lunches or throwing them at each other.

Is this what it’s like in here when girls aren’t around?!

It’s mayhem in there, and I’ve never felt so intimidated before in my life, but I refuse to show it and as I walk through, I casually pause to say hi to guys I know and even make light conversation, like this isn’t the second most awkward moment of my life; the first obviously being to wake up in Michael’s bed butt-ass naked. I take a detour to the door, casually stop at the soda machine and make myself a cup of ice water. I then look around and notice that since my entrance, the volume in the room has dropped by at least 50%. I guess after you date a brother who lives off campus for 4 months, it can come as quite a shock to the rest of the brothers when you’re caught shacking at the house only a few days after the break up.

If they only knew…

I’m so close to the backdoor now that I can actually see snowflakes falling, and I hesitate in dread at the thought of having to walk through it barefoot, but I persevere. I turn back, wave to everyone, and exclaim, “bye, guys! Have a good winter break!” I smile and wave like these are all my friends, like I would to my sorority sisters, and not a bunch of guys who are probably already on their phones texting my ex and narcing on me. A freshman, I think his name is Kyle, comes up to me and gives me a hug. “I’m praying for you,” he actually whispers in my ear. I stare at him for a moment.

I want to punch him.

Instead, I keep smiling and I say, “thank you, I’ll pray for you too,” and I keep walking toward the door.

Pray you get fucking dropped, asshole. Who the fuck gave him a bid anyway?

I keep walking, and as I pass Alex, he gives me a knowing smile and a thumbs up, I shoot him finger guns back. Beside him is Whitey, another senior and another of John’s roommates, who salutes me, to which I return with a royal wave, like the motherfucking queen I am.

Bow down, peasants.

I’m already out the door and about to go down the steps when I hear the House Mother say, “who the FUCK took the painting from the wall behind the Christmas tree last night?”

I freeze.

Then, I run like hell.


A Open Letter to the Boy Who Let Me Forget

Dear Drew,

First, I’d like to make it clear and understood that I’m on a LOT of adder all right now.

Second… I’m sorry.

For what? Well… freaking out, not being the girl you thought I was going to be/the one you wanted me to be, not being the girl you ended up wanting to give your time to. Mostly I’m sorry for begin the girl you can’t be cool with after a break up.

I’m writing you this because I need to explain myself – and no in a way that would excuse my behavior for blowing up your phone, or in a way that would make you want me again. Because I know that won’t happen. I’m writing this because I need closure, something I’m not getting from you – therefore, I need to provide it for myself. For us both, maybe even. I say that because I don’t know where are at with this. You said it’s over, but you never gave me a real reason why. I’m still trying to make sense of it. Just like I’m still trying to make sense of what Elias did. It’s crazy because I should be over that by now.

And, I am.

In a sense.

Or not.

I don’t really know.

I don’t really know because I never dealt with those issues. I never healed. I put on a pretty new band aid over all the hurt he left behind. I put a new band aid on that was cute, and charming, and intelligent, and man, oh man, could that band-aid make me laugh. The truth is though… I only chose the band-aid because of the aisle I got it out of. I chose sit for all the wrong reasons – even worse, I started to like it, and pretty soon… I forgot about what it was hiding; the ugliness and the hurt and the pain and the betrayal I still felt from Elias. I forgot about it all, but I never healed.

You see the problem?

When the bandaid was ripped away; not only was there the sudden, stinging slap from the removal… but I was also slapped with the reminder of the previous betrayal and all the pain and the hurt that had never properly healed.

I’m sorry for the analogy and comparing you to a bandaid, but I felt it described the situation best. I used to pretend my problems and issues weren’t there, but they were and I should have dealt with them before getting involved with someone new. When you broke up with me, the reason it was so hard – it wasn’t because I’m crazy and totally psycho and going to be obsessed with you for the rest of my life.

It was because I was already hurting.

Even if I was able to pretend for a time that I wasn’t, I was and that’s the fact of it.

When you broke up with me, all those pre-existing and still unresolved issues resurfaced. That was why it hit me as hard as it did, and that’s why I overreacted the way that I did.

I’m sorry.

I’ll probably never know and never understand what happened, and what changed between us. And I need to be okay with that. I will be, eventually.

It honestly hurt so much that you walked away because I truly believed you wouldn’t. I believed it because I wanted to believe it. I needed to. I’m sorry for burdening you wight hat expectation and with my insecurities and issues.

I’m sorry for not being the person you thought I was, and for not being the person you wanted to give your time.

I genuinely think you are a wonderful person and I apologize for all the hurtful things I have said since the break up. I think you’re going to do amazing things in your life and I’m sorry I wont be there to see it, nor experience it by your side.

I’m sorry, and I wish you the best in life.

Love always,

The Girl with the Elephant Tattoo

Pledge Brothers and Pay-Back

Yeah, it’s possible I went home with and am now basically dating my ex-boyfriend’s pledge brother…

So, admittedly – when I went home with him that first night maybe I wasn’t so into him… it was just supposed to be payback… thats all. I was drunk from all the bottles of $5 wine I’d consumed, and he was cute and there, and there was something that was just telling me to do it. Maybe I just wanted to feel wanted again, for a night, just a night. Those other guys wanted me for a relationship and I wasn’t ready. I wanted a night, and I got relationship. How do I always do that?

I’ll admit it started out as just a rebound from Elias, and the fact Ducky is his pledge brother kind of made it even better. Like, fuck you, how’d you like that?! but honestly… it’s become something so much more. I really like him.

He’s everything Elias isn’t, and in the best of ways.

He’s honest with me about like everything; like, if he’s mad at me – he tells me. None of that petty, passive aggressive bullshit Elias pulled always. Plus, he told me up front that his ex would be at Okeechobee, unlike Elias who told me five minutes before it happened that I would be meeting the love of his life.

He has the same sense of humor as me. He doesn’t make me watch shitty shows like Archer and/or Family Guy that just have a not great storyline and even worse humor.

We like the same music. Well, maybe he pretends to like my music to keep me happy – but I like his music! No more lame jam band-types.

Ducky is still getting over Brooke. Which, yeah is kinda a let-down on the one hand, but also kinda great on the other because it means that we can get over someone we really loved together.


He’s making me feel whole again… something I didn’t think would happen for a very long time. Idk, maybe I’m just getting attached to the idea of a guy again. It’s possible, but I’m not so sure. I think it’s the real thing this time… I just hope it lasts.

He’s coming to NYC to see me for Spring Break, and I’m going to Okeechobee with him and all his friends.


We’ll see what happens.


New Year, New Me (lol jk – we’ll see)

So, Elias was cheating on me. AGAIN.

We’re done this time, for real. You might not believe me because a lot of girls will say the same thing and then take back their cheating ex, but not me. I have pay back planned – for both of them.


I’m going to get him back – just for a night because I know he will. I’ll take snaps of him in my bed and I’ll send them to her so she is aware of the sort of guy she is with… although that could backfire and he could get killed by her because she is a fucking PSYCHOPATH. she literally abused him – like CUT HIS FACE OPEN. and she slit her wrists when he chose me over her the first time. she’s fucking crazy.


I already got her banned from her favorite bar where a certain bouncer is particularly taken with me. Now, I’m just going to find a way to get her banned from every other. She ruined my Christmas day by “sharing with me the truth” then, so I’m going to ruin every night out for her possible.

Am I not pettiest person you’ve ever met, or what…

Some days I think about it and I’m still so angry. Other days, I’m devastated. And then the rest of the days, I find it hilarious.

But I’m seriously hurting form it all still.

It helps definitely that I already have like 3 guys at school trying to be with me now.

SERIOUSLY. One of them just bought me a plane ticket to spend the weekend with him in Dallas, TX.

Another just banned that hoe from his bar.

AND another is like blowing up my phone day and night.

PLUS. I’ve already gotten laid by like 3 guys this year and its only the fifth… title should read – “New Year OLD ME” rather hahaha.

My mom has been amazing too. I told her that I withdrew from last semester and she was actually a lot more understandable about it than I thought she was going to be. She wants to get me a life coach or something so we can figure this all out!

Done [part 2]

just be done w all their bullshit, everyone else’s. not have to deal w their lies and excuses. their pathetic reasoning and pointing the finger at you for fucking up first. like it’s your fault they were a bad friend; they got sick; their dick ended up inside someone else’s – not just once though, oh no. No, it was more than a dozen times. bc its your fault they cheated on you. for an entire fucking fuck. that they had an affair w someone else. that stye had a RELATIONSHIP w someone else. while they were supposed to be w just you.

its your fault.

it always is.

because apparently everything is.

its already my fault that i can’t handle being in college and juggling only 3 fucking classes and am now failing all of them. its already my fault that I’m a failure and a half for my mom. not my dad though, he thinks I’m perfect. I’ve emailed him about this beautiful prefect clever girl who get straight As and can handle being in several different ezra curricular including starting new organizations.

he think I’m perfect.


he thinks I’m my brother.

I can’t put all my happiness on Elias. i know that. and i don’t. or i try not to.

i really do try not to.

but I’m not enough

for anyone.

my mom.. elias.. sophia.. especially my dad tho.

I’m just not enough. i never am. i wish i could be, but I’ve never been enough for them.

not good enough or smart enough or skinny enough or pretty enough or nice enough or hard working enough or thoughtful enough or funny enough.

just not enough.


Willie is dead. 

No name change… I feel like that would just be disrespectful.

He wasn’t my step brother for too long but for 5 years. 
He wasn’t nice always

But he was Willie

He was


“He died in his sleep”.

He was an addict. He was probably too fucked up and died after he passed out…

It sounds awful to accuse but it’s the truth. I just feel so numb to it. 

I don’t know why. 

But I do feel it. For some reason I just do.

It hurts

I hurt.

Taking it slow

I just don’t understand how people do it. 

We’re getting back together or at least trying to but were “taking it slow”.

How do you do that though? I don’t even know how to start from the beginning w Elias. How do you go from spending every single night w someone to only sporadically.

We say I Love You a million times a day to each other, over text and in person. But then now I’m in the hospital and I don’t even know how to ask him to come and stay w me here.

He’s like a stranger I know as well as I know the back of my hand, but still a stranger. 

Idk how to do this… Idk if I can.

I miss him

I miss the Elias I had

I miss what we had

I miss being able to call him in the middle of the night for whatever and he would come and vice versa

I miss the boy I fell in love w.