Life in Plastic, It's Fantastic

I love shopping, and I hate it. I went with my grandmother and mom today, because HARE KRISHNA, I NEEDED TO GET OUT OF THE DAMN HOUSE, but considering my dad's job really doesn't pay and my mom's part-time is helping me go through private school and my brother through college, I feel guilty about shopping. I ought to be saving my money more, because come Christmas things are going to be grim. I have to shell out 300+ for driver's ed in a few months. Stupid gas prices are absolutely destroying my life from the inside out.
I wanted to escape to London this year so badly; heck, I just want to escape this country or even state, but I have a feeling I'm not going anywhere the rest of the year.
We were supposed to go to Italy after my brother graduated, but things changed in February when the lease was lost on the family business.
My dad is still cranky about it, and has been over-eating to relieve his stress. Which stresses me out, because my mom is going beserk, and since he eats everything in sight, I'm getting hungry, too. And I fear this stress-eating is not helping our budget any. Money scares me shitless.

I enjoyed going to Border's books though. I want to be a writer. I want to tell a story. This is my start. I found peace in the book store. But I had to go after a few minutes, because I had to wee badly.

I'm a bit ashamed that while at Border's and the mall, I wanted to see him. Him; I'll call him Sam. Sam doesn't live even close to that mall, but I kept hoping I'd see him striding around the corner, being as I've always seen him. Sam wasn't there.

Sam broke my heart last week, again.
He hasn't spoken to me since.

I hate him for it, but hating him hurts me so much.
I just can't forgive him for lying. Yet, I could imagine him as he was when we would bump into each other in the past. His eyes, his smile. I was ashamed for wishing it.

I wonder if he even knows how deep he's wounded me.

Reading has been my only reprieve lately. I guess I have mild depression right now. I may just be a hypochondriac, but I'm sick of being home. It's not like I'm out partying with my friends to ease the "pain." I don't talk to my friends much any more anyway, and the one who I thought was my best friend is evidently mad at me, because she's ignoring me like hell. So it's all I can do not to think about him in my free time and fight ache in my heart whenever I hear "Hey There Delilah."

At least next week I'll be out more.

I'm praying I'll find someone who replaces Sam in my heart. I want to be free.

Watching The Nightmare Before Christmas later.

"I love you and there's absolutely nothing you can do about it."