Hiroko's Diary

[hiroko]

Entry 1

Does anyone remember a time when the idea of love and romance did not wallow around in the recesses of our minds? Even as small children, many girls are imparted with the thoughts of happily ever after with their prince quite early on. Movies depict it, dolls are sold with their perfect matching boyfriends. It is a part of life, as much as eating, breathing, and making waste. Many people breath to love, their primary goal in life is to love and to be loved, is this not strange? Can we not operate as solitary units? Social constraints have been surrounding us for hundreds of years, pushing us further and further into monogamous relationships and thus further into the territory of true love. People are shocked, dissapointed, and even hate the idea of break ups and divorce, they are taboo yet they happen all the time.

Love surrounds us and even the lack of love, the feeling of disjointedness, of being broken hearted seems to resonate with us all. If you do not seem happy as a single person, it must be because something has happened while you were in a relationship. I remember a time when I was seventeen. In class a boy passed me a note after the first few months of school. I was, as per usual, not the popular one in the class, I was the 'bitch' of the class I suppose you could say. But yes, onto the note. The boy passed me the note and I opened it, ready to read it and then wad it up in front of him, but the words resonated with me for some reason. The note only had one sentence on it. It went:

"Every time I see you exit the classroom, I wonder who broke your heart beyond repair."

I do, in fact, still have the note, in a drawer with many others. The sentence made me wonder, can people be read as easily as a book, or must they be analyzed first, like a piece of literature? Is the heart a book, or a continuous series of them, never one to end but to continue on past the closing of one cover and the opening of another?

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[hiroko]

COMMENT:

Want me to spill some beans about a certain thing? Well just request it.

REQUEST:

[hiroko]

Entry 2

Even though I made no promise to continue to write in this diary, journal or whatever I may call it, I still do feel somewhat bad not continuing on in it. Even though I'll be the only one reading it, I feel as though I have let myself down not filling up these blank pages with words, memories, and thoughts. But I have been busy, much busier then I ever would have thought I would be, especially after all that has happened before moving to this place. I suppose I shall work my way up to the most recent event.

I have come to terms with a life changing event, even though I have tried to lie to myself about it. I am pregnant, not a pregnancy I planned nor wanted. I still do not know if I plan on continuing with the pregnancy or terminating it. And even after that decision I will have to make yet another, will I raise that child or will I put it up for adoption. I have failed, yet again, to be a good mother. Even I couldn't tolerate the feelings of helplessness, hoplessness and loneliness that now surrounds me at this juncture. I admit while writing this, I drank, yes, again I fell quite easily into the temptation of alcohol, it's an easy escape, a blessed one, one that I can no longer do, if I do plan on keeping this child. To think I have done worse then possibly even Trent Thompson has done recently.

Let's begin to write about Trent Thompson, shall we? It's true, yes, I have come to terms with the facts, the entire reason for pushing him away, making him hate me was out of petty jealousy. That's right, I was jealous of Kiara, Trent's ex, at the time when they were dating. And now Trent feels nothing but hate towards me, I knew this, intellectually I knew this, but emotionally? Not until recently. Sabina Hentges, a friend and ex-fling of Trent's decided to take it into her own hands to help him quit. I would have applauded her if she had not done it in both a complete idiotic manner and had she not gotten me caught in the cross airs. Needless to say, she ditched his needles and he blamed me for the loss of them. He struck me, and though my face is still swollen and bruised, it'll heal eventually back to normal, but I still will feel swollen and bruised emotionally.

And of course I had to slap Sabina, once for being the idiot that she was, for causing Trent's horrendous lash out and for having to physically knock him out to stop him. If it wasn't for her, he would have done none of this. The girl is an idiot, but she did what she thought was right, and no matter how idiotic her way was, I can at least still know that some people will try to do what they think is right no matter what others think. At least Sabina did more then myself and Kiara have ever done...

And onto someone unexpected, Vesper Monroe. Many people, including himself, see him as some sort of loser, such idiotic thoughts. He is different, there are no losers and winners, there are just people. He is quite the intelligent fellow, and for once, recently, I enjoyed just small talk. I have never been one for small talk but he brought it out and I should thank him for that. I could not stop the emotional attachment I feel for him now, the same that I have for Cory and less so for Trent. But once again I am cut off, I will never be nothing more to a person but the hate filled woman who lashes out. For Vesper has his little Sabina to constantly prop him up and tell him how wonderful his music is and tell him how great of a person he is. I pale in comparison with my dislike of music and honest ways of telling people off.

Trust my emotions, silly thoughts but I cannot do that. I am too confused at the moment... and more then a little frightened of the near future that I know I must face alone. I will not have a shoulder to cry on, I will not have someone to hold me as I sleep. I am as alone as I have been. All the company I once had was in the past. In that past was a more hopeful girl, one who knew she could have been a great woman, a wonderful mother. Now all of that is smashed across the rocks, leaving nothing more then a bitter shell.

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[hiroko]

Entry 3

While writing the last two entries, I feel as though I'm not writing them for myself, as though I'm writing it for other people to read, or maybe just for a specific person to read, that I wish could read what I've put down so they know what it was I had always been thinking, for them to know that I didn't do the things that I did on purpose, that what happened didn't happen because of either of us, but that they just happened.

Some days, some nights, I'll wake up and for just a few seconds, just a few minutes I can fool myself into thinking that's nothing changed, that nothing has gone wrong, no tragedy, no pain. That it isn't just an empty bed I'm in, not a dorm I share with two people who either hate me or for the most part pass me by. I can squeeze my eyes shut and pretend that the bed isn't just warm from my own body heat but from another person, that the other person has their arm tightly wound around my shoulders, as though I'm the rock that they need to hold on in the storm. But in all honesty I was never the strong one, I acted like it, in a different manner then I do nowadays, I was the one who depended on you.

And then it snaps shut, that foolish daydreaming in the post-sleep haze. The haze lifts and I'm left alone in that bed, no want to leave the bed but not wanting to be alone there any longer. I am frightened to sleep alone, silly, I know. I'm afraid of being alone, yet I have been for the longest time. Have I grown numb to anyone that's tried to pass through that hallow of loneliness? Have I missed opportunities to get through this? Has any remnants of social connections been burnt away to much from the flames of past loses, past pain, past deaths? No longer can I fill this aching void in my chest for a person that I know would no longer want to see me or hear my name?

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[hiroko]

Entry 4

And I'm alone again. Good? Bad? Yes to both.

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[hiroko]

Entry 5

"Are you always this self-confident?" I asked him. He glanced over at me, a small smile had formed on his lips. "This is the first time," he replied gently.

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[hiroko]

Entry 6

"Huh, five centimeters per second," I said aloud one rainy morning. "What do you mean?" He asked from the chair he had facing me. Glancing at him I explained, "For a cherry blossom petal to fall, five centimeters per second." His eyes glanced away, his attention slipping away to a sound from the other room, the sound always drawing our attention, because she needed something. "I wonder how long it takes a heart to break," he said enigmatically.

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[hiroko]

Entry 7

My vision blurred as I picked up the note left on the dresser, my hand, already shaking, wrapped in bandages, smelling of antiseptic, shook even more. The paper was crisp, written in a dark lead I knew all too well. Taking a breath to not only stop the shaking but to clear my eyes. "Now I have only one thing left to do: nothing. I don't want any belongings, any memories. No friends, no love. Those are all traps." Why didn't those words sting? Why did the only thought that crossed my mind was 'where can I put this to keep out of the way'?

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[hiroko]

Entry 8

"Hey... you..." I said quietly, almost in a timid sounding voice, my mind clutching for a name, any name. He let out a small laugh as he slid into the booth. "Well, at least you recognized me. That's something." And for once, I didn't feel like an idiot for forgetting something.

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[hiroko]

Entry 9

Funny how I spend more time in my computer chair then in my bed, I've even slept in it more then once. Not that is comfortable. Not at all, many times I will wake up with a pain in my back that feels as though it had stiffened into a steel rod, not nice at all. Why do I avoid my bed like it is filled with scorpions? I never addressed the issue to myself, not in the front of my mind, not at all. That would have been admitting to myself something was wrong.

Of course something was wrong, isn't there always? One evening, after a few gaming sessions left me tired, I decided to lay down after a shower. Laying there, in my own bed, alone. That was it. It was ridiculous really. I live in this dorm with other people but some days will go by that I don't even see another living person at all. But there in that bed, I became fully aware of how alone I was. Hiroko, the hard edged woman people know on the internet, misses her hubby. Oh how utterly silly and pathetic I must be.

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[hiroko]

Entry 10

I remember a time when I would be awaken in the night by a noise. Many times I would find myself angry, exhausted already, strained to the limits, the anger would burn through me and I would clench my teeth and shut my eyes tight. Hot tears would spring from my face until just a few seconds had passed, the anger had been cooled and replaced by cold guilt. How selfish I was getting angry. I wanted this. I still did at that time. She would be here long after I was gone. Time was short for us all but sometimes, a few people drew the short straw. Why wasn't it me?

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