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Average is one of the first things my boyfriend called me.

He said and I quote, “You’re pretty, but not that pretty. You’re average.”

He knew me 4 days and knew that I was average in more ways than looks.

Sometimes I feel like such a low level average person that I wonder why I am even alive. There is nothing that I can do amazingly well.

What is an average persons purpose in life?

But my issue is, I must be a special kind of average because even regular average people have friends.

Me. I don’t have real friends. I have people who use me for things. At school, I have “friends” who I talk to like real friends would, but we don’t text or hang out. The only time they text is to make sure that we didn’t have homework. When the semester is over, I won’t hear from them until they have another school related question.

I don’t know why I don’t have real friends. I’m awkward to talk to. I share a little much. I get annoyed at people and push the few candidates who try to befriend me.

Truth is, I’m just a loner. A loner is average. I can’t even be a loner properly because I am not choosing to be alone anymore. I pathetically desire human contact, friends, someone to listen, to prioritize me and care about me and not tell me to shut up because they don’t care about what I’m saying.

And, I guess, that’s why I made this blog. I don’t have people who care to listen to what I have to say. I could tell my family but to them I’m someone else. Plus my own family doesn’t always care about what I have to say. Ever since I was little people have been telling me to shut up. Even my own mother.


You may be thinking, “Oh, well, what about your asshole boyfriend that called you average?”

Yeah….He doesn’t care either. I used to tell him about my day at work until he said, “Shut up. I don’t care. I don’t know these people, so I don’t want to hear about them.” He doesn’t talk to me much anymore. I ask him to text me when I’m away and he refuses.

Am I really that horrible to hold a conversation with?

My boyfriend tells me that I don’t know how to speak, how to talk to people. I guess I’m even average when I speak.

Only until recently the loneliness started bothering me.

Maybe low level average people are just put here on Earth to guide the not average people to achieving their dreams. Used as a stepping stool. Our purpose isn’t clear or the same for everyone. Sometimes I wonder how long it will take until I can finish my purpose and return home. Then I won’t be lonely anymore and someone might care…



Second Best


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I knew when we started talking that he still loved his ex. He was able to pinpoint that I still loved Alex maybe an hour after meeting me. Maybe not even. I didn’t question it. I didn’t question anything at that point about him. I just wanted someone to fill the void. In a way, I was the someone to fill his void or spot in his heart. I was the female company that he occasionally craved but the one he truly craved didn’t want the spot in his heart. He was lonely and so was I. I liked that we were in the same position, so I didn’t feel like I was so pathetic ( and I was). Now, 9(?) months later, I moved on and gave him the key to my heart and promise. I don’t think we moved on though. I think he still loves her. He was getting better until I bought him that fucking PS4. He used to play on hers and took her headset. Another example of how I’m second best.

Do you know how it feels to know that they don’t really love you, but the idea of someone? Every time we have sex, I swear he is imagining it with her. In the beginning when we were first starting to, he asked me if I ever thought of anyone else. I didn’t question it and thought he was self-conscious. Now I think he was asking so he didn’t feel guilty if we were imagining other people.

I want to go into detail about the few texts between them but I’m not ready to. They upset me too much. He was just perfect and romantic with her and said how much he loved her and exactly how I would kill for him to be like, but won’t ever be with me. She wanted nothing to do with him. I would love it if he asked to spend time with me. He found his true love and she rejected him. Now, it seems like he is treating me like she treated him as a sick revenge.

Sometimes I think he does, but others I think he just thinks of me as a room mate and so pussy when he feels like it. He doesn’t want a real life with me. He told me last night that he sometimes loves me, sometimes not. How can you even love me at all?

I annoy him more than I do attract him. We argue more than we talk and spend our days farther apart than we do together. He doesn’t tell me his day or ask about anything. (My grandma was taken away by 2 ambulances last Thursday and he hasn’t asked once how she is doing).

He doesn’t really care. I just help pay the bills.

Dear Parents


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Dear Parents,

I am not the child you think you raised. I became the child you trained me not to be. I have rejected and threw away everything you ever taught me. I drink, I smoke, I cuss, I had premarital sex. I live in sin with my boyfriend, a man who probably doesn’t even truly love me. I don’t tell you that part, but I know you can see it too.

With every visit, I can see the recognition fade from your eyes. You are starting to see the daughter you didn’t raise. The kind of person you look down on. The old me isn’t gone yet, but its becoming more and more translucent. She won’t ever completely leave, as long as I remember the good times.

Yes, I miss you guys too. I think about you all every day. I remember summers ago and smile. I remember and value more than you think. All of the miniature golf games at the beach. The frustrating fishing trips. The running through the sprinkler. Carving pumpkins. Sitting on the swing outside and throw acorns. Getting pizza while we were waiting for our new house to be installed. That’s just off the top of my head.

They come to me, mostly when I’m high and off to work. You must be soo proud of me…..not.

I had a great childhood. I have such a caring and loving family and church family. I had great pets. I had everything I ever wanted. You both loved us so much and would do anything for me. Now, now that I have seen the world more and lived in it a little bit, I have so much more appreciation and love for you guys. We were so blessed to have you.

Mom, as much as I love you and miss your hugs, you annoy the hell out of me. I can’t be with you too long or things go back to square one, why I left. I appreciate all you still do for me. I know I’m ungrateful.

I think I finally figured out why I can’t go home or be around any of you. Every time I leave I get  sad, depressed, guilty, angry. It reminds me of who I used to be, who I can never become again. I am way past the point of return. I stay away to run away from who I am supposed to be. I am nothing but a disappointment. I can’t do anything right.  I moved out to get away from hearing it, but I still do, just not from you. I hear it from my boss at work, my boyfriend at home, and from myself. I am useless. I hate myself as much as you guys love me. The only people who ever will love me that much.

I pretend to be okay. I pretend things are not as bad as they seem. Every now and then an imperfection surfaces and I have to lie and lie and lie just to cover it up with more lies. I am better at lying than I ever would have liked.

I’m sorry I let you guys down. I do love you. I don’t love myself.


Things I’ll Never Admit


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The things I’ll never admit are:

  1. I will admit that I don’t have any friends. I act like it doesn’t bother me and that I don’t need friends. In reality, it bothers me a lot. I feel defective like I will never find a friend outside of my boyfriend at the time. My “friends” only talk to me when they need something or are lonely. They don’t message me or tag me in memes or anything. I’m replaceable.
  2. I think the reason I don’t have friends is because people annoy me. If I’m not talking to my boyfriend, I get bored of people and stop talking to them. Or I don’t feel like hanging out with people. I’m weird, but now I know weird people like me and I still don’t fully fit in. I’ve never fit in. I remember in 1st or 2nd grade having one of the girly girls in my class try to teach me how to be a lady.
  3. I can understand why people don’t really like me. I don’t even like myself. I annoy myself. There’s another voice, another part of me that yells at the annoying me. I hate everything about myself. I think often of hurting myself, but in a fighting sort of way. As if I’m someone entirely and I’m beat the shit out of someone else. I am not one.
  4. The only time I am remotely happy with myself is whenever I’m skinny. I have to be bony and fragile to be pleased and feel beautiful. I see how I looked a few years ago and then I see who I became. Fat, disgusting, useless, dumb, can’ t do anything right. The voice yells at me for becoming this person. It makes me regret eating. I want to throw it up when it starts feeding me half truths that I still believe.
  5. I’m losing weight now. I almost cried when I saw the scale go down today. I rub my hip bones and ribs that are starting to poke out again. I feel my collar bones. I admire my thinning face, but I know that I have a long journey until I go back to where I used to be. The voice says, “You’re still gross. Your thighs are too big and lumpy.
  6. To be honest,  I don’t even think my boyfriend really wants to be with me. I don’t think he really loves me. I think that he is with me because he knows that he can’t afford the house without me. He is too broken from the past to be able to love me. I try to understand but he makes it hard. He is too stubborn to listen to what I have to say or my thought process. He sees his point of view and that’s it. He won’t even listen to what I have to say.
  7. I don’t regret being with him. I love him more than he wants me to love him. He has introduced me to a different type of people, people that are like me. I love the life I live with him, but I hate that he is 9 years older, has a child and a baby mama. I hate his band that are getting bigger. I can’t change any of those, but if I knew from the get go that he had a child, I wouldn’t have picked him. I would have chosen the other dude. I don’t mess with sloppy seconds. Because he has a son, he is like scared to do anything. He takes his lessons out on me.
  8. I regret moving out. I’m broke. I don’t know how I’m going to be able to pay our bills. I miss my always clean house and always had food. I didn’t have to worry about broken sinks, leaky basements, bitchy landlords. late fees. He doesn’t make anything and I’m going back to school. I’m so fucked.
  9. I don’t regret dating my last boyfriend. I was so happy with him. I have my favorite memories with him that I will always remember and hold dear. I think he was my first true love.

Mystery Man


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Years ago when I started working at Burger King, there was this gorgeous guy that would come in. I didn’t say anything;I just took his order. I told my co-worker friend that I thought he was cute. She told him at her window and  I hid. His appearance there became few and far between. He would ride his motorcycle there with his friend. Then I stopped seeing him inside and only in drive-thru. Then it was sparatic that I  saw him; he worked for the oil company so he was always travelling out of state. We never usually talked much, just small chatting. My manager would tell me things about him and said he was not only incredibly hot but a genuinely nice guy. I can attest to that. Even though he knows that ugly and fat me find him to be attractive, he is still always so nice to me and not like he is faking it.

Well….a year later. I saw him again at my new job! I am taking it as a wonderful sign. Me and my guy aren’t doing so swell. Then not even an hour into my shift, he comes in with who I’m assuming to be his mother. I was agitated at all the people coming in, and I just happened to look in the line and I seriously only saw him. Like everyone around me didn’t exist for  a second. I looked at him and instantly recognized him and he looked at me. I, out of instinct and hope, waved and shly smiled. He smiled and said hi. Instantly, I told my coworker about him. She saw him and was gushing too, making comments. So, my mood improved drastically. I noticed that his back was to me so he wasn’t looking at me, but he turned sideways, waiting for his order to be called.. So I did like any other, loudly. He comes up and says, “I didn’t think you could be that loud.”

I said, “I have to be.”

He said, ” I guess so.” Then he walked away and that was that.

But…my coworker was like, “What did he say?”

I told her what he said and that he did it flirtingly. We went into the back where he couldn’t here and I squealed like a girl. Fuck, he is so hot.

I am not the type of girl to like get boy crazy and think people are drop dead, perfection. Or get all flustered around them either. If he was anyone other than him, I would have been making moves a long time ago. And so, it won’t ever happen. But it was nice to see that he remembered me.



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Tomorrow is the day that I have been dreading for months: his show. I’m under 21 so I can’t go to any of this shows. He has said that he could probably get me in, but he doesn’t want to get the whole bar in trouble. I don’t even want to drink. I want to on rare occasions, but most of the time I smoke. I don’t need alcohol then. I just want to go and watch my boyfriend. Yes, I mean watch him as in his show, but I also want to keep an eye on him. Girls hit on him and he never says that he has a girlfriend. He had the perfect opportunity at his last show to tell the two girls that he did. He just “let them see how far they would go”. We have talked about it over and over again. I’m still pissed and that was like 3 months ago.

I don’t think he would do anything. He hates being touched and he was anal about stuff when we were first getting together and ranting about his morals and values. I just worry about the drunk girls. We went to a wedding and this stupid flirty drunk chick was like poking his stomach and I like slinked around her about to knock her the fuck out. I won’t be there tomorrow to stop that stupid, flirty, drunk chick. I will be powerless. I will be waiting for him to get done so this nightmare will finally be over until the next one. I will be subjected to missed calls, no texts, hung up on, and begging him to come home because it is 2 in the morning and we both work. I will have to be pissed and unable to say anything because he is very intoxicated. At least he spills what happened. And I will just have to believe that he is telling me everything, not leaving anything out. I will never know the difference.

I requested the evening off from work. I shouldn’t because at least I will be at work until midnight or later and it will keep my mind off stuff. But, I have worked on his shows and it envelops my every thought, distracting me from what I should be doing. It’s not fair to the company or my coworkers and employees that I can’t focus. I stare at my phone and talk endlessly about my fears. I leave the floor to go call him. It is best if I am a basket case with a friend where I’m able to smoke and drink until I pass out or just don’t care. Maybe I will come to terms of it and be okay. All I can hope for is that he stays loyal and doesn’t flirt or get with them or have enough sense to say that he is taken or that he at least tells me and I can make the decision to stay.

As the time has been ticking by, my anxiety has been spiking. I cry more and are snippy.  Sometimes I withdraw from him. Sometimes I overlook signs that mean nothing and interpret them to be him distancing himself from me, not loving me anymore. It’s silly, but I can’t help but worry. I won’t relax until I pick him up from the bar and take him home.

I can’t keep doing this. Worrying about what he is going to do. My boyfriend does stupid stuff because of impulse all the time whether intoxicated or not. He goes places no one expects. He says, “Fuck it” and goes for it, because “you only live once.”

I just want to skip tomorrow.

Take 2


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It has been a long time since I have written and I am sorry. My boyfriend was hogging the good laptop (this one) and my shitty smaller one (not this one) won’t connect to the Internet so I was stranded with only paper and pen, which is great and my preference, but it also makes it less private. My boyfriend read some things that I didn’t want him to read. It wasn’t anything bad, just how I felt on certain things that I would never tell him myself.

Things got better between us after he read it. I don’t know if it is a coincidence or not, but it worked I guess. He told me he read them. And even though everything is there is about him, I still got the panicky, throat crushing anxiety of he read my personal thoughts. Which is why I love this blog! I write For Anyone Who Wants to listen (haha see what I did there?) and no one knows it was me. Who the glass doll really is? I can tell people, “Hey, I have a blog” but never show them it. Only a handful of people have seen it or even knows about it. Here I can be free and real. I don’t have to pretend anymore that my life is great. I don’t have to put up a show when I’m pissed or depressed.

I’ll say it here and now for the records; “MY LIFE IS SHIT!” It could be hell of a lot worse, but it is the shitty first time on your own kind of shitty. Dealing with cheap ass landlords who doesn’t give a fuck about us. Or what scary thing will happen in my house tonight? Or what will I find hidden in a drawer that was his grandfather’s? What bullshit will I have to put up with at work?

Our fridge went bad today. I had to work. It was my boyfriends birthday. Me and him are fighting all day. Yeah it is just normal life stuff. And I’m grateful for what I have. Now I just have to be not sober all of the time. I smoke a lot now. Anywhere from a gram to gram and a half or more. I smoke before work. The first thing that I do when I get home from work is smoke. I smoke to fall asleep because of the scary things. I smoke to get away from my life. I’m still here and I’m still aware of the shit but I don’t care as much. I think of things without emotion attached. Sometimes, my depression will still leak through the peace wall I have built. Those are not good times.

I don’t even know where to start about what is bothering me. My boyfriend is so sick and tired of hearing the same stuff, but yet won’t ever try to make me feel better or change them. It’s me and my fault for why I think that way.

I can’t help that I grew up being put down, called ugly, fat, annoying, and more. My aunt was comparing who had the better butt: me or my sister when we were under 10. She didn’t do it in a creepy way like it sounds; it was just a joke, but that stuff stays with someone. Everyone in my 3rd grade voting on my survey if they thought I was ugly or pretty and the majority voted ugly. People today still calling me annoying or telling me that they don’t care about what I am talking about. My words don’t leave an impression. I don’t leave people thinking about me and wanting to talk to me or see me or make a real friendship. I don’t like people that much anyway. But my point is he gets mad when I think negatively about myself and says it is in my head, but it isn’t my fault. It is everyone who contributed to my self image.

The problems don’t even end there, but my laptop is almost dead.




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We are the product of broken hearts.

We gave our all to those who couldn’t give us the time of day.

We put our trust in those who didn’t trust themselves.

We loved those who could never love anything.

We are the product of broken dreams.

We dreamt of a future with those who didn’t have one.

We dreamt of the perfect ending to a fabricated love story.

We dreamt of never losing someone who was already lost.


Another Time, Another Place


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If  I would have met you another time, another place

Would you have thought that I’m a waste of space?

Would you still have given me a taste?

Would you have given me a second chance?

Given us the chance?

Would we still have had that first dance?

Are we just a fluke?

Would I have made you puke?

Another time, another place

Would you have given me your grace?

Or left me without a trace?

Would you be here still?

At your will?

Would you still have asked me to chill?

Or still split the bill?

But that’s another time

Our life right now is sublime

Come on, let’s go get a dime.

Then it will be another time, another place.

Since you don’t think I’m a waste of space

Since you gave me your grace.


Older Man


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I have never been a fan of guys younger than me. Even when I was a little girl and I played with Barbies, the guy was always older, which is odd considering that my father is three years younger than my mother.

All the guys that I have dated or even liked were older than me. One was only three weeks older, one was 3 months, one was 2 years, one was 6 years, 15 years, and so on. Now, I am dating a guy who is 9 years older. I don’t mind the age difference, and he doesn’t either. A lot of other people don’t like the difference and it weird them out. I’m 19 and soon to be 20. He is 28 going on 29. He was 17 when I was in kindergarten. His son is only 12 years younger than me. Putting it in these perspectives make me realize that it is a big difference.

He has lived a wild, crazy life before I even knew him. If I had met him years ago, I wouldn’t be with him now. I wouldn’t want to be with that man. He is a much better person now (according to him).

He has loved other women before I was even a woman.

He has experienced practically everything with other people. Then here I am experiencing all of these amazing life changing events and he doesn’t bat an eye or care about it because it isn’t anything new or special.

We moved in together. He has already lived with multiple girlfriends.

He got me a kitten for Valentine’s Day. He has had animals with other girlfriends.

He has already experienced a pregnancy, a birth, and watched his son grow the first 2 years of his life. (Thank God, I’m not pregnant).

We go on walks but he already has so many memories from those places that he takes me.

He already told me crazy stories about our amusement park.

There isn’t anything left for us to experience together.

I was his first for only two things:

  1. First girl he slept with outside of a relationship
  2. First girl that he slept with in a car

That’s it!

It shouldn’t matter and most of the time it doesn’t. It just bothers me that I am to young to go to bars so he can’t go see shows or I can’t see his band play. I feel like I restrict him so much and I don’t want that to push him away. I’m not mad at him for being older or having had a life. I’m mad at myself because I am not older or have had a life.

We are happy. We are in love (even though how much is questionable).

Girls hope for a guy with experience (I did), but it is frustrating when there is nothing left for you to do.

What do you do with a guy who has done it all and you haven’t even scratched the surface?