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DeathByCelery's Journal
I'm DeathByCelery. I don't know...my journal's probably going to be kind of random. Please feel free to comment. I'll write about topics such as... *Things that piss me off *Things that make me happy *Noteable happenings *My dreams-I LOVE to drea
Well, Monday's morning bus ride was interesting. There were no empty seats, so Ann sat by Angela and I was going to sit by Nignog, but Little b***h sat there. I was like whatever, and just sat by Jon. About half way to school, Jon puts away is mp3 player, and I was thinking that was kind of weird. Then he asked "So how are you?" I was thinking, "Oh God, he's talking to me. What do I do?!" Not wanting him to think I was still bothered by the previous incident, I replied "I'm ok." He then asked "You have new classes?" I knew that was more of a question asking what new classes I had, but in the style of how Jon used to answer my questions when I was trying to start a conversation, I simply "Yes." "Like what?" he asked. I didn't really want to tell him, but I figured it couldn't do any harm, so I named off my classes. "Oh. I have Science Fiction now." he said, "I thought it would be an easy class, but it's an advanced English class, and English is my worst subject." "That sucks." I replied unenthusiastically. He went on: "Yeah. He's in there too," indicating Hairy Man. "Oh? He doesn't seem to be much of a writer." "We had to exchange papers and there were a ton of mistakes on his and only like four on mine," he stated. I just kind of shook my head. I don't know if he was trying to impress me or something with that remark, but I don't find rude comments attractive. It sounds like something Edwin would say. I guess my "writer" comment could have been rude, since Nignog was sitting behind me and within earshot, but I didn't think about it before I said it. Anyways, a few silent moments passed, and then he asked "So are you still mad at me?" "I'm not mad John (Which I'm not. He can't really help it if he doesn't like me. I was/am just very disappointed), it's just that..." and then I kind of trailed off, because I didn't really know how to put what I felt into words, and even if I did I didn't want to share them when others could hear. "Well, I'm sorry," he said. My natural reflex is kind of to say it's ok, and I almost said it, but luckily I caught myself. I would have been very angry at myself, considering it's not ok. I just shook my head again. A few more silent moments passed, and then he reached over and grabbed my leg again. A flame of anger shot through my head as I thought what the ********?! I rolled my eyes, and smirked and shook my head in disgust. He must have seen my face and got the message, because he took his hand away, and turned and started telling Nignog about an Elvis movie he had watched.

I was shocked he'd apologized. He's never actually said the words "I'm sorry" to me before, and Lord knows he should have said them multiple times in the past. I was so angry, confused, and depressed for the next few days. It really did make me depressed. I just kept thinking about it, and I seriously wanted to shoot myself. Luckily, this is the first day I'm starting to feel better about it again. I had finally got to a point where I could think about it and not feel melancholy, and then he had to go and pull this s**t and make me not be able to stop thinking about it again. Why did he apologize?! He must have been thinking about the situation at some time, because you have to think about something to apologize for it. I think he had ulterior motives though. I don't think he did it because he felt bad for being an a**. My main guess is he misses having someone who let him stick his hands down their pants, so he was hoping I'd talk to him again so he could. Another reason could be that he wants to ******** with me and see how many times he can get me to "take him back." Maybe it's just one of those things where he only wants me when I want him. Whatever his motives are, I don't think they were genuine. I used to think he was a nicer guy than that, but not anymore. Took me long enough, right? I actually really did want to go talk to him on the way home, but I fought temptation. I really can't take anymore of this hot and cold s**t. Plus, I didn't want to look like one of those girls who always go crawling back in front of Ann. I don't want to be one of those girls anyways. I hoped and prayed that he was hoping I'd go and sit by him. I hope he was very disappointed when I didn't. I'm feeling a lot better about the situation now, and I'm proud of myself. Besides those first couple hellish days, I got over it relatively quick. Maybe I'm finally over him. Right now I'm glad I didn't break down and go talk to him. We'll see if he attempts to talk to me again. I'll laugh.





 
 
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