Tiffany Montana's blog: "Lets try this..."

I'm not one of those girls who can be seduced by words. I can read between the lines. And I can call your bluff in a heartbeat. I know the difference between talk and action. I don't like being manipulated and toyed with. I don't like guys who "spit game." Because games are for children... And you'd think that would make me smart... And able to know what's real and what's not. Sometimes it does...but more often than not, it doesn't. Instead, I focus so much time trying to sift through lies and truth. Trying to find sincerity amongst the doublespeak... That I lose myself in every kiss and every touch. And I start confusing lust for like. And want for need. And desperation for desire. When he tells you that you're pretty...It's only when he's holding you. And when he says that you're sexy...It's only when you make him sweat. When he whispers that he wants you...It's only for tonight. No one likes to share... And in that moment, when your lips melt together... All you want to know is that they're yours when you want them... And you want them all the time. It's not emotional, it's territorial. It's animal and it's natural. Hence why it's so hard to resist...

I've always been told I was going somewhere. But we're all going somewhere. And that I was going to be somebody... But we're all somebody... And I've always been told that I'm special. But I think we're all special...in the sense that special means we're all not the same. However, I know what these people mean...and I wish I could see what they see and think what they think about myself... But it's as if all the hard evidence I've ever been faced with says the complete opposite. That I'm nobody, not really going anywhere, who doesn't stand out. I've been known to disappear. People have even thought I was dead... I'm just a ghost...who floats in and out of people's lives. Whether I make a difference, I'm unsure because I don't stay long enough to see if I've been an influence. I can only imagine. And the things I imagine are always going to be more fantastic than reality. That's just the way the imagination works. I've never been one to stand out in a room, amongst a crowd. I'm not that person that people flock to. That people strive to befriend or aspire to become. I don't tend to grab attention or affection. I just don't seem to matter much to people. Because as easily as I go away...I'm equally as easily forgotten. No one seeks me out, after a disappearing act. And if I were to really go missing... With no one searching, I would never be found. So what sets me apart from every other living, breathing person? And in a morgue, what would make me different than any other cold, stiff corpse? And in the ground, what would make my gravestone stand out from the rows upon rows of other forgotten souls?

In light of not allowing myself to be defined by stuff... I'm trying to not let my lack of friends...define me as being "lonely." For one can be alone, but not necessarily lonely. Whether or not I, personally, can be alone and not lonely is a completely different issue. Whether or not I can be lonely and not let on that I'm lonely, is also something different. Actually, the latter is not something different...it's something I've always done. I've always been lonely...I've always been in rooms full of people, but felt like the only one there. Or like nobody cared. But no one ever knew...not a single soul. And at this point in my life...as my life with someone for over a year is coming to an end...as part of me dies...the "in-love," happy, hopeful and romantic part of me dies...I have that choice to make again: Am I going to let the world see me stand alone and cry, or am I going to spend my time in crowded rooms, hiding behind a smile? My first instinct was to find that crowded room, because I couldn't stand to be by myself, forced to re-evaluate the person I am without a companion and lover. The person I am when I'm alone...And the thought frightens me. I don't want to be with that person because I'm not sure who that person is any more. It's been so long... But after a pathetic turn of events...where I found myself really alone and unable to even bring myself to a crowded place without a crutch or a confidant, I've been forced to sit here inside my head. Fuck. That's why I drink so much. That's why I sleep so often. To get away from myself and to get out of my goddamn head. Its like being in a straight-jacket and confined to a tiny cell with no windows and no doors..

There's a terrible feeling you get when you're heart is broken. It's like...an aching inside ya that you can't quite put you're finger on. And it's irritating because it's constant. For a second, I was hoping it was just indigestion. And there's a numbness that comes with it. Numb that stretches from the tip of your tongue to the flats of your feet. It's like a painstakingly slow paralyzation. And you have to force yourself to literally feel the things you come in contact with. Maybe because things just don't feel real anymore... Since what you once thought was real is no longer. You realize how much someone cares when they have to fight for you. And when they don't attempt to put up a fight, it's as if a veil has been lifted… As you trace back every moment you've spent together you realize that they never cared at all. And you realize just how hard you believed they did. And it's insane because it is at that moment, and that moment only, that you can actually remember and relive every second. (As if it couldn't get any worse...) Then, you wonder how this facade of light and warmth, of hugs and kisses and of dreams come true, could've gone on for so long…for what felt like forever. Every time I fall for someone new, I realize that the last wasn't love at all. And it feels good to realize that I might've found it this time because last time, I was just young and stupid. But you can only be young and stupid for so long… Eventually, you're just wrong. A fear is instilled in you each time you realize just how wrong you were… It's another piece of trust and another piece of hope carved right out of you. But these pieces get bigger, the deeper into love you get. And all it takes is one great love to render you forever hopeless and doubtful. You've successfully become nothing but a shell… Wondering what people want from you and how far they'll go to get it. Wondering how badly he could hurt you without even trying. Wondering how long you're actually going to be alone. When I think of being alone… I ask myself if I'm just going to fall into the arms of anyone who won't make me feel alone in that moment, when he holds me…Or if I'm capable of holding out for someone worth my time…who wants my time. Then, I move from the future to the past… Was I with him because he made me comfortable? Because his arms felt better around me than that of the next guy? Or because anyone's (within reason) body heat is sufficient? Just when I thought I had solved the problem… When I figured out that letting go was the best thing to do… An ungodly number of questions threaten to bury me alive. And each shot at the right answer is another nail in my coffin. And as I sit here, I'm signing my life away… Dying to answer questions that are without solutions. But there's no combination of words or phrases that can save me...

So I'm torn. Once again. Fighting myself inside of my head. Telling myself that "things aren't always as they seem." And although I am almost 100% sure about something, this is not a time to leave room for doubt. It's that word "almost" that keeps me from acting on my instincts. Which usually causes destruction in my life. There are things in this world that you can't believe; or rather, choose not to believe. Things that you want to be wrong about, even though you know that odds are against you in a way that cannot possibly give you what you want. Things that you would give your whole heart and soul for in order for them not to be true, because you just don't want to hurt. You just don't want to believe that what you thought what real is no longer. And in the end, you are usually right. And in that moment, when you find out the truth, you absolutely hate yourself for not going with your instinct. Or with the facts, for that matter. Everything pointed to what ended up being your worst nightmare come true. You think to yourself that you could have saved yourself from the horror, the pain, the "I told you so" that comes at you from every direction afterwards. You lose friends, you lose hope, you lose yourself. And for what? Because you thought that maybe for once, you would be wrong. Because so many times before, you were right and it shattered your world completely. So is it better to just never put yourself in a situation like that, where you could end up virtually destructing yourself by making the choice to believe in someone? To have faith in someone?

So I appear to live a normal life to most people. Normal here meaning standard, regular, ordinary, typical. In other words, things seem fine. I am happy, I smile a lot, I am friendly to most, and I rarely cause a scene. To anyone on the outside, anyone who doesn't know me, I am fine. Nothing is wrong. I am a typical 19 year old living the life of a typical 19 year old. Friends, family, college, work, partying and studying. Well a little clue for everyone...I'm not okay. My entire life is a facade of warmth and smiles and happy family relationships and friendships. Truth be told, I am screaming inside, and I am dying for someone to understand. But I have cut off anyone who attempts to get close enough. Everyone that I allow to get close to me seems to have a hidden agenda. Everyone I would love to open up to... I can't. And maybe I should be more trusting... or maybe I shouldn't. Being too trusting got me where I am today. Full of doubt and questions of anyone's sincerity when they say "Talk to me. I want to help you." And when I open up and share and put my trust and faith in this person, I am let down time and time again. I am hurt and stomped on and crushed and flattened to the point where I think it is easier to just lay there than to get up and risk it happening all over again. And forgive me for being cynical and skeptical, but looking before you leap is definitely something worth considering. There are people that I would love to beat the shit out of. There are people that I would love to tell to shut up and mind their own business. On the contrary, there are people that I would love to share my thoughts and feelings with. There are people that I honestly think could help me with some things. But in the back of my mind there is always that little voice telling me "I don't think you want to do that!" And so I don't do anything. Everything is just bottled up inside, and I know that it can't stay there forever. But what should I do?