i was going to do a bad thing once. really, really bad. like, to a girl who did something to me years ago. and it would have fucking worked, because i know this girl way way too well.

and for some reason, when i was thinking about it, i just stopped. and suddenly i didn't want to hurt anyone anymore. my heart just broke at the thought that if i did this to her, where would it stop? i would most likely keep doing it, and she would hurt other people. and my god, i just couldn't stand the thought of that.

i knew something about me had seriously changed when the tsunami in southeast asia happened. normally, i just wouldn't care. but now ... no. i care now. i care a lot. and a year ago, i might have said this was a bad thing, and i would have said that for me to be so fucking sensitive would be the death of me, since the house i was in left no room for me to be sensitive or caring. god, i was an angry self-centered little bitch.

i don't really know what brought this on though. it bothers me. it wasn't any person, i'm fairly sure, because even though i care about people, i avoid them. i don't know. i just don't know.

maybe i'm just happier. maybe that's it. maybe that's all i needed, to get the fuck away from that house.

i noticed last month, when i had to be under their roof again, that i hadn't had any violent urges until he indulged in one of his little bitch-fests at me. six months, i'd gone without wanting to hurt or kill anyone.

that's not a fucking coincidence. not in the slightest.

i cried when i told my mother i wouldn't be going back to that house. i said it was over, and that as long as he lived there, i wouldn't be able to stand it. i half-expected her to nod and say that it was over between them, which is what i would have done for her.

but do you know what the fuck she decided to do? she decided that she would just fly here to see me.

what would she have done if she couldn't afford to do that? would she have just sent me off with a "well it's been great, but fuck off now, katie"?

you know what really gets me about all of this? she doesn't know the exact nature of the things he's said to me. and during the whole huge ordeal a couple years ago, i was the one who decided we wouldn't move out. i saved their relationship, and he doesn't know it.

yes, i know something about self-sacrifice. i did that for my mother, not for him, by the way. can you fucking believe that? that's two years i wouldn't have had to spend with him, and i gave it up for my mother. and the next time he brings up anything about me being a selfish child, i'm going to tell him. i'm tired of being told i'm not worth anything, that i shouldn't come to see my mother because i keep the hours of college student. i'm tired of his hypocrisy. i'm tired of his inane dramatic monologues about how he's become numb to disasters and preaching the end of the world just because he wants to feel important and knowledgeable - frankly, i don't think he knows the first thing about his own religion. and people like that do not need to preach it.

i lost my train of thought.

you know, even if i could, even if i were given the gun with the bullets in the chamber, i wouldn't kill him. i would have in a second with no prompting if i were the old me, but now ... no. i wouldn't. i wouldn't even pistol-whip him, to be honest.

i've gone soft is what's happened. and like i said, i don't mind.

and when i said that i might not mind having a kid someday, that wasn't just part of the lie i was telling to hurt the girl i was going to hurt. that was the truth. what the fuck is up with this nurturing-instinct bullshit? i want to take care of people, you know. i want to help them, which is something i've never cared much about before. whenever i helped someone, or did community service or whatever, it was always because i would be gaining something from it. i've done so many random acts of kindness lately i scarcely know myself.

god, does this sound like self-important tripe? i certainly hope not. i'm trying to tell the whole truth here for once, instead of establishing ambiguity or, god forbid, lie.

i'm a pathological liar and i have ocd. these are things i've recently admitted to myself. i have the compulsion to lie, and i lie sometimes before i even know that i'm talking. and i have an obsession with symmetry. i was doing good with eliminating that behavior, but in the last month it's come back just as bad as before, if not worse. i hear that breaking habits is horribly difficult, and takes more than one attempt to do so. still, i'm really annoyed at myself. i have little self-discipline. that needs fixing, badly.

i have no way to neatly conclude this entry. i've just needed to say all this shit for days now.

song: "sober" - tool