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Feelings of Rejection

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  • #61
    So many sad stories here!!!

    I have a few of my own, but I charish them like i cherish every breath of air i take.

    Theese are the very painful things that keep me going day after day after day.

    for you see Pain makes you stronger, smarter, and it makes you realize things you hadn't before.

    The more pain and suffering a person went through, the better they appreciate and cherish and understand love.
    I was, I am, and I will always be the Monster!

    Comment


    • #62
      Originally posted by Baron Dants ok...so I did guess right. But I don't know, maybe he thought it was a classy thing to do to message all the people on his list and tell them to "have a good year". I know quite a few idiots like that.
      LOL
      The times are tough now, just getting tougher
      This old world is rough, it's just getting rougher
      Cover me, come on baby, cover me - Bruce Springsteen

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      • #63
        hey sexy since you're here
        gotta ask you somethin
        how comme you dont read youre massages
        I was, I am, and I will always be the Monster!

        Comment


        • #64
          ::::SIGH:::::

          My sad story:

          I met him about 5 years ago through my b/f at the time, they were friends and back then he was just another guy that had just come from Armenia. I wasn't really attracted to him, so we didn''t take it further than friendship. (he learned his first American word from me "Abortion") Well, we lost contact and i didn't hear from him untill my cousine Manan called me to go to a Valentines day party, and we got to talking and she tells me oh do you know Vlad and I'm all ya i do so she calls him we talk over the phone and i go to the valentines party, and he wasn't there but his friends were and they told him really good things about me! So he comes to see me by my house and it was just like Love at first sight, i got those butterflies that i hadn't had in a long time. So we start dating and we were together for a Year and a half. We were in love, and it was heaven for a very clight second.

          This guy taught me everything, he taught me how to be Armenian he taught me how to act and what to say, he got me into drugs and he taught me how to have sex and he was the first guy i ever had oral sex with! He also cheated on me and he would call me right after he did and say "baby i xxxxed this fine as xxxxx today" and i wasnt aloud to say xxxx or else i would get it! He would hit me for everything, he would particularly sit in the back seat of my car right behind me so he can hit me over the head if i made a left when he said make a right.

          I did so much for him, when i think of it i get sick to the stomach. I payed for his tattoos and sometimes i would pay for his drugs, i would wake up at 6 in da morning just to take him to work (this is around my brothers accident) go to the hospital, go pick up my mom from work take her to the hospital and then go pick up his friend buy his weed and pick him up from work so he can get high and go to bed. All the trips to palmsprings, Angeles Crest, Big Bear.....I took him, i payed for his hotels that he would xxxx other girsl in and if i said a word it was a bloody lip or black eye for me!

          We had some good times, in the begining. I was infatuated with him, i loved him! I told everyone he had a reason to hit me so he does! Loving him was like a disease! After all that he brakes up with me telling me Ira [email protected] Sarela (his love froze for me) and i still love him, still go and see him, still do everything for him. What does he do, he puts me and my family in debt he calls me an Agarka (xxxxx) and says he doesnt give a rats ass if i die or live! (this was when i was in the hospital)

          He is the one that got shot in the leg on Christmas Eve and might be invalid.
          Love is Sh*t.

          Me

          Comment


          • #65
            sexy that got my blood boiling up until the last part



            you wanna know who the shooter is?


            hey by the way it was wierd that you mentioned cousin manan
            thats a veryy odd name and i know it well
            I was, I am, and I will always be the Monster!

            Comment


            • #66
              He should have been the one that died.

              How can you still love such a bastard?

              Comment


              • #67
                I dont know, but this is why my quote is there because I loved him so much now i Hate him with a hatred bigger than a big bowling ball! I couldnt think of anything else! I guess it was more of an infatuation rather than love.
                Love is Sh*t.

                Me

                Comment


                • #68
                  Originally posted by loseyourname All right, fine. This is going to take a while.

                  I may as well admit, I met the girl online. She lived in NJ and I lived here; we began our relationship as pen-pals. We both had an interest in writing, so we exchanged short stories. It wasn't long before we began to exchange details of our personal lives and realized we had a lot in common. Anyway, she flew out to meet me, it was the best two weeks of my life, fast forward one month, one lost job, one lost apartment, one broken marriage, and one terrible feeling that I just didn't belong in this state, and I moved to the east coast to be with her and get a new start.

                  Things went wonderful at first. I have never been freer in my entire life, even though I spent most of my time online looking at various schools. The thing was, I could do that and not feel like I was losing time; she supported me and cared for me in a way I doubt anyone ever will again. I regained a lot of motivation I had lost, regained a lot of confidence.

                  Well, needless to say, there were speedbumps. I had difficulty finding a job. I got fired from one for breaking an elevator, then two other places said they'd hire me and never called me back - one did hire me but never called me in for an orientation. I ended up living with her mother, who had lived alone, and driving her car around, since she really didn't need it down at Rutgers. I'd visit her a couple times a week, but it got to the point where I was a drain on her and her mother. I had some wonderful times, saw a great deal of the middle atlantic, but ultimately decided to move back, because I was still technically a California resident and school was just so much cheaper here. Plus, I could lean on my family, though it was the last thing in the world I wanted to do.

                  When I came back, she was in financial straits, largely because of me. She was a very generous girl but bought things mostly on credit. Don't get me wrong; I wasn't forcing her to buy my necessities or anything, she was just an excessive gift-giver. The point is, she said she'd visit during breaks in school, but every time one came, she wasn't able to. I held up pretty well. I was very focused on school, and did very well. I completely absorbed myself in my studies and just tried to keep myself as busy as I possibly could in order to make the time pass quickly, knowing I would see her again soon enough. Her time did not pass so smoothly. She didn't do well with the lack of human contact, and began hanging out at the college bars, and developed a slight drinking habit. It was her final semester and she felt too much pressure knowing she would be out in the real world soon enough. She flirted with breaking up with me, but never did it.

                  At the end of the summer, I finally flew back out there to spend another couple of weeks with her. It was even better than the first time. Non-stop sex and road trips, visiting schools all over New England, and quality time spent restauranting in Manhattan, courtesy of her Upper East Side-dwelling father. It was bliss all over again, and besides, the fights had stopped. We had perfect relations the entire summer, and everything seemed to be resolved. I would transfer back to the east coast come the following fall, and we would never have these issues again.

                  Well, fast forward again to October. I'm working and going to school - a lot. I have little time to call. She's getting very anxious about not being able to find a job, and she still hasn't graduated because she failed to pass an algebra proficiency exam. October 21st, and I finally have a break and call her, hoping for a release from all the stress of being so ridiculously busy. It doesn't come. Instead I get "Adam, I want to break up. This is getting too hard; it isn't even a real relationship. Besides, there's been the thought of someone else. I don't want to cheat on you." She goes on to explain the details of what she calls her 'quarter-life crisis,' telling me she wants to experiment with drugs, have multiple sexual partners (I was her first) and can't see her settling down besides. She says she wants to be a mother someday but not a wife - despite all the dreams we had had together for nearly two years.

                  I suppose I'm doing perfectly fine at this point, but I can't really say the same for her. Every time we speak now, there is a newfound sense of desperation in her voice, as she tells me of how she fainted on Halloween from malnutrition or of how she takes morphine to help her sleep at night. It breaks my heart every time.
                  All in all breaking elevators is cool. That's the whole point of life. Break as many elevators as you can. I remember one time I stepped out of the elevator I pulled the stop switch. It felt really good.
                  Achkerov kute.

                  Comment


                  • #69
                    It was an industrial freight elevator. I smashed one of the doors in and jammed it by running into it with a forklift.
                    Sweet is the lore which nature brings; our meddling intellect misshapes the beauteous forms of things: we murder to dissect.

                    -William Wordsworth

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                    • #70
                      Originally posted by loseyourname It was an industrial freight elevator. I smashed one of the doors in and jammed it by running into it with a forklift.
                      Next time be wise. Be armed with a stink bomb, and throw in the elevator too so not even the repair men can stand the smell while they attempt to fix it.
                      Achkerov kute.

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