Sun, Sep 25, 12:31 am

Sun, Sep 25, 12:31 am

A Chapter by Green Regol
"

Not sure if this is so much an update on what's happening as it is on what I've been feeling lately.

"

I keep writing after midnight. It used to be because that was the only time I had alone to myself. The only time the world was silent enough for me to hear myself think. It’s not silent in my dorm right now, though. Now’s just one of the few times my laptop isn’t across the room and I’m not doing homework or going to class.

Going into my third week of college now. So far it’s alright. It’s too early in the year for it to be awesome and special - right now I still don’t really know anyone besides my roommate. She’s sweet and nice and all, but she’s emotional enough for the both of us. There’s no room for me to vent. I tried once or twice, but her problems are obviously more troublesome than mine. 

She and her boyfriend of two years broke up a couple months ago. They’d been engaged for a few weeks. Now he’s dating her best friend. She’s having trouble accepting it. Yes, I get it, I’d be soundly upset as well, but it’s starting to get on my nerves. She says she’s not going to be the pitiful girl, waiting desperately for her second chance to come along, but she hasn’t said or done anything to make me believe otherwise. At least she’s strong enough to leave home, eight hours away. At least she’s working hard on her homework and not turning herself into some sort of miserable failure, and I’m being sincere right now. It’s just the complaining - it’s aggravating. She doesn’t just complain about how much she loves her ex and how much she wishes he would talk to her again and how the thought of her best friend now makes her sick. She complains about everything. Everything is a big dramatic story. She got a paper cut a few days ago. Told me about it as if it was the most ironic, crazy thing that could’ve happened. If it stopped there, it’d be totally fine. But every time she got a call from a sibling or parent or friend, I’d get to hear it again. And again.

And every aspect of her everyday life is an ordeal. “So here’s what I’m doing tomorrow. I have to get up and leave by eight in the morning. Walk two miles because the busses are stupid, get something, walk all the way back, change for belly dancing, go to belly dancing, come all the way back to change again, take 3 chapters of notes, work on our design project, and complete three sketches.” While all of that is true and somewhat of an ordeal, she doesn’t actually have to do most of that. She makes things more difficult for herself than she has to, and she may not do this consciously, but I think she does it just so she can complain.

I know people. Not so much individually, but as a race I think I’ve got them pretty figured out. They like to talk, but not to listen. Kind of like how people on most of the writing sites I visit like to write and be read, but not to read. I guess I’ll just content myself with venting to cyber space, because there’s no way I’m spilling anything serious out in the real world. I can get maybe two sentences into my life’s story before someone else is like, “Oh, that has so happened to me before, only so much worse!” And then it turns into them sharing their life’s story.

So I wont try to speak again. Unless someone outright asks for my life’s story (which I highly doubt will happen), I’m not going to share it. No one wants to hear it. So rather than be the talker, I’ll be the listener who silently sits and lets others ramble on. I’ll be the kind of person everyone needs in their life - someone who wont complain for the sake of complaining, and someone who’ll keep their crap to themselves. 


That said, I hardly have the time to cry. When I do, it’s usually around three in the morning when my roommate’s asleep. I miss Doug, but I can’t break down whenever someone else is already doing so. I honestly don’t think I know how to. I’m not going to try, though.

Three in the morning. I’ve been sleeping on top of my comforter and beneath the blanket Doug’s grandmother made for me, snuggling with a sweatshirt he let me keep. The first night I cried was when my roommate and our new friend had a sleepover in our dorm. We watched movies, the last of them being Repo! The Genetic Opera. Doug was the first to introduce that movie to me, therefore I automatically thought of him. It was really late and about halfway though it, my roommate and our friend had fallen asleep. I turned off the TV and all the lights, climbed into bed, and sat silent for a moment. I tried to imagine my boyfriend laying before me, sleeping. I tried to picture him perfectly, and I felt so pathetic in doing so. To make matters all the more pitiful, I took his sweatshirt, rolled it up, and draped it over me. I pretended it was his arm holding me and that I had my head resting on his bare chest. I felt so close, as if he was there, but I knew he wasn’t. I needed to continue pretending, though. I needed to cry - it’s not healthy to bottle it up.

I’m sorry I write about crying all the time. I didn’t use to cry this much. At least no one in the real world knows. As far as they know, I’m perfectly fine. I can deal with that. People need at least one person in their lives to not be a walking soap opera. I can be that person. For now.



© 2011 Green Regol


Author's Note

Green Regol
Again, just writing mainly for myself. Chill with suggestions. Not Anne Frank.

My Review

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Reviews

This is by far the best.....maybe the best you have posted here. I like this. You couldnt have made this up. This is real, unique, and very honest.

BTW Please tell me your life story will you? :0)

Posted 9 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

See, this is why I like you. You GET IT. No one wants to listen. People are so damn selfish. Here's the thing- any time you want to talk... I'm here. I'm so sorry you miss Doug so much, but it just shows how much you really love and care for him and I think, in a weird way, that's really nice.
: )

My advice? Your roommate is a bust. Ditch her asap (probably next year).
Also, you really do need to find a good friend who is in the same situation as you with the long distance relationship thing. That way you can help each other not be so sad when you're missing your guys. I'll be hopeful for that for you.

PS. Doug's grandma made you a blanket!? That's amazing.


Posted 9 Years Ago



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Added on September 25, 2011
Last Updated on September 25, 2011


Author

Green Regol
Green Regol

NJ



About
Green Regol, author of “Forgive the Monster,” hails from Pennsylvania and is a recent graduate of the Savannah College of Art and Design, making it out alive with a Bachelors Degree in Dra.. more..

Writing
Wasn't Me Wasn't Me

A Story by Green Regol