PBR Sweatshirt

I was with Nate that summer.  The summer after my senior year of college.  I slacked off a bit and changed my major so I had one extra summer before I had to start "real" life.  The life that involves a real career, and involves living off a paycheck not student loans.  Anyways I worked at an aerial  ropes course.  And when I wasn't working on the course I was at the beach, working on a tan, swimming, or trying to surf.  I kept a bikini in the back of my 1995 jeep at all times.  I had a crusty, sandy beach towel, and a stack of old and new CDs.  Nate would ride in my car and we would sing Modest Mouse, and he would drink capri-suns.  We worked together at the ropes course, so sometimes we sped to work together.  He'd always have a silly hat on and a sunburned face.  There wasn't much about him that stood out.  Honestly, he had little going on with him at all.  He was 21 and really didn't have a plan for his life.   He knew two things: he liked to surf, and sleep.  He wasn't the most good looking guy.  But he drew me in because he was mysterious and kind of sad.  He didn't pay much attention to anyone.  I started to test the waters, casually overhearing conversations about him.  I would eat lunch when he did, or ask him the really unoriginal questions like how is work.  One time I asked if we would ride together to get sushi with a friend.  He agreed, we met in the parking lot of the local Belk store.  On the way home, I parked the car.  We just talked.  I could tell he didn't want to leave.  I don't know why I liked him.  I still don't really.  He was cute, but I may have just like him because he was a challenge.  That is a really dumb reason to like someone, trust me I know.  I guess I never sat down and truly asked myself, why him?  Another reason I liked him was because he was a "beach" guy.  I was in the cliche of girls that like the surfer boy with no ambition, that has some life philosophy about being free and not conforming.  Nate was kind of an ass-hole.  He would say shit just to keep me hanging on.  "I really want to be with you, but I need lots of time alone."  "I am an ass-hole, but I like you." There was always a "but" involved.  He used to make me so angry too, because he never gave straight answers.  So we would end up having the same conversations over and over.  We never got anywhere.  So anyone that is actually reading this can tell this relationship ends.  And they would be correct.  I was so fed up with his crooked answers and indifference.  He didn't want to break up with me, but he didn't want to be with me either.  I still don't know how that is.  I tried my hardest to make him break-up with me.   I wanted him to actually care enough to end a relationship.  He never did.  I broke up with myself.  It seems silly now, but Nate broke my heart.  Not like a life changing heart break, but one that sucks really bad.
I made some pretty good friends that summer, one being Sarah.  Sometimes friendships start when a relationship ends.  When Nate and I started to fight, I'd talk to Sarah.  Usually it was nighttime on the beach.  We'd talk about anything.  We got really close, I felt happier with her.  I remember we took a drive one night to see Nate.   She drove me to his house.  We even parked outside of his house.  But it was a beautiful night, and if I talked to him it would all be ruined.  The weather didn't match the climate between me and Nate.  I said fuck it.  Me and Sarah drove around some more.  She didn't judge me for showing up at Nate's and leaving, even though I was being a coward about it.  She showed me things about her past.  We pulled over on the side of the road.  She showed me where her ex boyfriend asked her to prom.  It was nice to think about her life instead of my crappy relationship.  We were quiet when we were driving.  We both had things on our minds I guess.  She drove a convertible, so we could see the stars above us.  Its funny looking back at the moment, because now I know her so much better. We weren't strangers then, but compared to how we are now, we might as well have been.
Everyone I worked with was wonderful. We all liked good company, exercise, food, beer, and summer.   I wish the summer didn't have to end.  I really left a good thing, but it all ended.   That's how it is in a place that runs based on the tourism of summer.  I still keep in touch with a few people, Sarah included, but not the surfer guy Nate.  He later started dating a girl that we worked with the past summer.  She was the dancer, very skinny and toned.  It's annoying when your ex starts dating anyone, especially when you still have feelings for that person.  It also hurts when you are the one "replaced".  You start asking, "why her?"  He didn't want to be with me; she must be better.  The whole thing is pathetic.  I mean really, am I twelve?  But I did/do entertain those questions, which lead to insecurities and a bunch of starring at her instagram filled with pictures in bikinis.  I picture her in his sweatshirts as they drive to the beach to surf.  His stupid PBR sweatshirt.  Fuck him.   Just writing this down evokes more jealousy in me.
Here's the shit that bothers me.  He still erks me.  Not many people make me this annoyed.  I mean I haven't seen him in over year.   This is ridiculous.  All memories surrounding Nate are green with envy, bright, glowing green.

Red Lips

Well, here I am on the last night before the last exam of my undergraduate degree, thinking of a small diner.  I sit there with my hair in an up-do.  Fancy makeup, high heels, and a kick ass body.  Lips are soft and dark as they leave mark on the white tea cup.  I don't know why I am dressed this way.  All done up.  If looks told stories, I'd tell one of lies.  I look like a perfectly kept mansion.  I feel like a slum house.  All is a mask.  I don't know who I am with at the diner.  But whoever it is, I'm sorry.  I don't know what I want, who I want, or where I am going.  Im just a mess in disguise.  I want to be better than all this.  My sickness and sadness are covering me.  I can't wait to get out of here.  I'm scared leaving won't make a difference.  What's next?  Will I ever be that beautiful girl in the diner?  Everything is changing.  But I'm more broken than ever.  I was supposed to be her. My expectations were unreal before.  Now what I have become is inadequate.