THREE YEAR DECIEVER, YOU'RE NOT FOOLING.

So, I'll admit; I'm usually pretty damn cynical. But that's fine by me, because the cynicism usually protects me from futher damage.
Anyways, I have to tell this story that probably isn't even all that amazing- but for some reason, I think it's great.
On Tuesday, so, the 21st, I guess, me, my brother and sister were hanging out with my dad.
He had to stop at MEC to get something for my sister for Christmas so he got me to stay in the car with them while he picked it up. One of my family's favorite restaurants is only a few blocks away from MEC, just off Jasper, and the plan was to go there for dinner after my dad picked up what he needed, but sadly the restaurant was completely booked for the night so we decided to head down Calgary Trail towards my dad's place and just pick whatever seemed good. Traffic these days is horrible, so twenty minutes later we pull up at the Tony Roma's (much to my protests; but my sister and dad love ribs so me and Steve had to make do with the few beef-less items on the menu. ANYWAY), and my dad goes "Where's my wallet?"
Fifteen minutes of frantic searching pulls up nothing and we realize that my dad must have dropped his wallet by the restaurant downtown (for future reference, it's called Taste of Ukraine). So immediately my reaction is "Shit, it's gone," because, I mean, he dropped his wallet downtown, just off of Jasper Ave, which is full of people- there's no way in hell it hasn't been picked up. Again, traffic is shit, so we arrive approximately one hour after the initial wallet-dropping and my hope is dwindling with every minute that ticks by, and I'm starting to feel really damn bad for my dad, because who wants to deal with shutting off all their credit cards and shit right around Christmas- come to think of it, would those places even be open at Christmastime?
Regardless. We pull up in the parking lot and search everywhere near where we parked the first time. No wallet. My dad goes in to Taste of Ukraine and asks them. No wallet. He asks the little Greek restaurant next door. Nothing. I get out the flashlight from the boot and start going over the snowdrifts we had to climb over. Nothing. On a complete and total whim, my dad crosses the road and crosses a random parking lot to go to this nondescript grocery store, and lo and behold, comes out with his wallet.
I was floored. He had over 500$ cash, his AmEx, MasterCard, Visa Gold, bank card, company credit card, driver's license, gift cards, etc etc in there- not a damn thing missing, down to the last penny. The people who turned it in didn't leave a name. The girl that gave my dad his wallet refused his offered 50$ "reward" to thank her for her complete honesty. It's the honest, noble things that people do that sometimes give me a little bit of hope for this world.
I mean, I realize that the world extends beyond my dad's Visa card, but stuff like that is a huge part of MY life (not his money, just... more material things, I guess. I like to keep up the guise that things are perfect), and to me, that was huge. I know that "huge" is really donating to charity, or saving kids in Africa, or adopting stray animals. But the little tiny things like that have a really big effect, and I just have to say that it makes me like humanity just that little bit more.
Which brings me to my second point- saving stray animals.
I hate going to the SPCA, because it breaks my heart, and all I want to do is bring all the dogs and cats home. Today my mom took me to pick out my birthday present. All I wanted was to save a kitten. So I did.
He's four and a half months old, orange and fluffy, and has scraggly whiskers and a big nose. His eyes are tawny and his nose is so pink it looks fake, and he was found with a litter of eight. They named them Dasher, Dancer, Prancer, Vixen, Comet, Cupid, Donner, and Blitzen. I'm not kidding. I adopted the one called Blitzen, except right now, he's nameless.
At the moment, I like:
-Hercules
-Holden (as in Caulfield. Look it up if you don't get the reference, but you should.)
-Atticus (as in Finch.)
-Leonardo, Leo for short (as in Da Vinci)
-Raphael
-Captain Jack Sparrow
-Rooney

Ideas? Thoughts?

Kiss kiss, love love. Merry Christmas everyone.
Be safe, get drunk, and have fun.

don't speak a word; keep quiet, keep still.

If I go to sleep now, I'll have ____ hours of sleep before the exam.
Actually, the number belonging in the blank right now is five and a half.
Not bad.
Not good.
Will I pass? Possibly.
With a fifty if I'm lucky.

If I pass or fail what difference will it make?
You still won't love me, my mom will still drink and my dad will still be unreachable; his girlfriend will still be dying, and my grandmother will still be miserable in that nursing home.
A fifty can't change the world. Maybe a ninety can but we all know I'm not a ninety kind of girl.
As long as you fly below the radar people leave you alone-- all except the ones you want to go away. And the ones you need desperately to notice? They still have an entire life surrounding their own pursuits and it doesn't matter to them whether you pass or fail.
I'm not cut out for University.
Maybe everyone's right. Maybe I should just drop out, fuck off to England and start over.

Because it's her you'll always love and it's her I'll always envy.

I feel like SUCH a tool hating a girl I've never met.

I feel worse because of this:

My secrets involving you
1. You texted me last night at 12:04 and I slept with my phone under my pillow just in case you remembered that I was there
2. When I woke up this morning and saw the text from you I almost cried because I missed it
3. The day you left I cried so hard at work that my boss took pity on me and sent me home.
4. I'm too scared to ask you about your (ex) girlfriend
5. I want you.

love is not like anything;;especially a fucking knife.

I don't know how to convey this sense of absolute loss and alone.
I don't know how to explain to the random world of people that might or might not ever read this that I have never, ever felt like this in my life.
I don't know how to tell you that I might be falling in love with you.
I don't know how to write down that this weekend was the most incredible, painful experience of my life to date, how I could have laid and listened to you telling me stupid stories for the rest of my life, how we spent hours and hours together and it felt like laughing for five seconds.
I don't know how to explain what I mean when I say that this weekend, you were unstoppable.
I don't know how come nothing, and I mean NOTHING, makes sense about you in my mind and yet you're all I can think about. I don't understand. This isn't love. This isn't hate. This isn't indifference. This isn't infatuation. What the fuck is this?
This is you and this is me and this is you being all I can think about when I try to sleep at night, this is you killing me with every second that passes that I don't hear from you.
Why don't you understand?