paintedgray at 2:32 a.m.

old n' gray

i can't believe that i will be twenty. i started writing on diaryland as early as fourteen, under this name, yet one day i went psycho and decided to rid myself of all my diaryland baggage -- my entries.

in the course of five minutes i deleted four years of my life without even thinking twice. deleting one memory after the other.

i started writing under "paintedgray" when i entered woodrow wilson high school in portland, oregon. i knew lots of people at my high school, since i had come from a middle school that fed into it.

i was starting to pollinate various relationships with people. i still kicked it with my girls from middle school, at least the ones who had gone to wilson high school. i went to football games regularly and painted my face like the rest of em.

and then this one football game against our rival school, i met a boy.

his name was nick and we ended up spending that entire weekend together. he was incredibly cute, older, and very mysterious. we both came from broken homes and we latched onto each other in this roller-coaster of drama, co-dependance, and deception known as a relationship. and a first love. he cheated on me all the time. i knew it but chose to ignore it. he would break up with me and i would walk the halls looking like a zombie. he made a fool out of me.

my mother decided to pity the dirty blonde kid with the broken home. she suggested he move into our basement. and so he did, but of course he never slept there. i basicly had a live-in boyfriend in beginning of high school. why my mother said that was okay, i will never know. in retrospect, it was bad parenting.

he would break up with me, dissapear and resurface two weeks later with a phone call "i need to see you now". of course i went. we'd fuck. and get back together. yes, ladies and gentlemen, this began when i was fourteen.

at sixteen and after probably the 8th time breaking up, he meant it for good. he moved to gresham to live with his uncle and we did not speak for a long time.

i, meanwhile, had developed a very serious cocaine problem to cope with the fact that i had lost the person that i clung onto for life support. i could not be left alone. i cried every day and could not accept my own reality. i really turned into a psycho at points. i was absolutely devastated.

my parents noticed the drug problem and kicked me out, so i decided to check myself into a rehabilitation center. i stayed for 23 days and i never spoke to nick again. i never touched cocaine again either.

okay -- no, that's not true. i did talk to nick again. we started having sex but didn't want a relationship. he had other options, i was a little closer to being over him.

anyways, i got pregnant and had an abortion. i don't remember why -- perhaps i was careless. thats what we were together -- apathetic, uncaring, and entirely self-involved. having nick's kid at sixteen just didn't seem like the right path to take. i still find it hard to believe. i told a therapist that once and she said that i would grieve over this event at some point in my life, but i haven't yet.

so, people at my high school found out about my pregnancy and began to talk amongst themselves. i was through the day that i walked in (on one of the rare occasions i actually went to school) and this sorta-kinda-friend of mine walked up to me first thing and asked me was if i was "preggers". i turned away and walked out those front doors and withdrew from wilson high school so quickly i had no time to really think it over. i went to pcc instead. it was lonely, but made me realize i was capable of college level work.

and so now i am here. a wiser individual. especially now that i know to *never* delete my journal entries ever again. i am erasing memories. i will never be any closer to knowing what it felt like to be the person i was during those years.

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