Jane’s Diary

Session #8

Dear diary,

How does one feel when feelings don’t feel the same anymore?

What do you do when you become numb to everything around you?

I rallied myself enough to still be able to function among the population. No one knew how broken I was on the inside; I myself did not know how broken I was. I felt like a functioning drug addict; my addiction was pain. Pain caused by people I cared for. This pain felt good to the core; it is the kind of pain that is addicting. It keeps you from aspiring to do better, because this pain keeps you simple. You stay in one place, and you tell yourself you deserve it. You tell yourself you’re the cause of it and no one Is to blame but yourself. The tricky thing about this pain is that, you think it’s love at the moment. You think the people causing this pain actually love you and that they care for you. You tell yourself you need this pain for it is the way they show their affection for you, and that they are misunderstood in their feelings. That they will change all you have to do is give them time and they come around

– (surely, they will)- Right?

To no one’s shock (they will not come around). They won’t come around because that pain gives them the power to control you and manipulate your feelings.

                                                                  -Pain is power-

September came around and the semester began. I was taking six classes while still working at the office. It was chaotic at the time; I was still learning where everything was. I had never seen classes so big. Lectures in auditoriums made me feel so anxious and feel so small. No one knew or cared that I existed, I had no friends. The only people I knew were Tiffany and Trevor, along with my roommates Valerie and Erica. I kept a low profile; I say that to make myself feel better for being invisible. I did not know what I wanted to be, so I took the bright idea of majoring in liberal arts.


I always had a deep fascination for art. I remember the days I would come and tell you how I wanted to be a painter. How I wanted to paint my feelings, my loneliness and my sorrows. Needless to say, I lost that artist in me. All I had left was the unknown. Being the idiot that I am, I quickly found out liberal arts had nothing to do with art……How did I get a scholarship to go to St Johns? I will never know. Once it was clarified to me what liberal arts was, I decided to stick with it. three-year program, what’s the worse that can happen right?

I already knew I was wasting my time on the first day of classes, but again I did not know what I wanted to do. so, I kept treading water hoping not to drown. The only thing I liked was the fact that the classes included a lot of reading and writing. If I was not working, I was in the library. This kept me from getting in my own head, which was being dragged all over the place. I hated what was in my head. Reading and writing were my escape from life.

After I prostituted my dignity for Tiffany, she took full advantage. Not in a blatant way, it was never thrown in my face. However, I knew, and I always knew that she felt as if she owned me. she would call me in her office for no apparent reason, other than to just have me be there. She would ignore me whenever she felt like it. We would talk fine by text for days. We would have great conversations and I would feel wanted. But then at the drop of a hat, she would ignore me for a week or so. Without any warning or anything. I used to think “what kind of a person would do that?”. But I was naïve to think that just because someone says they care for you; does not mean they won’t hurt you. I learned a lot of things the hard way, but what I learned the most was that………Not all love is created equal. I never knew if Tiffany loved me or not, but I knew she loved me how she treated me. I felt like I loved her, I mean how could I not? No really how could I have not loved her? She bought me things I never had, gave me some attention I desperately wanted, wanted my presence whenever she felt like it, had sex with me and had eyes on me. Is that not love? I was 18 and stupid.

Oh! Did I mention that we would have sex in her office? Yes, that happened quite frequently.

Trevor and I started communicating a lot as summer was ending. At first, I was reluctant to really communicate with him further. I had fun the only time we went out previously, but I was still shaky about things. He persisted to still reach out but not in a bad way. He was a gentleman about it, which I really appreciated and held dear to. I gave it a shot, I started responding back accordingly and it was great. We would talk nonstop without skipping a beat. One conversation led to another and then another. It seemed like I talked to him all my life, it felt so right. We agreed to not make anything suspicious so we would never speak at work or cross paths. we barely saw each other on the outside in the beginning. I had my roommates to deal with and there was no way I was bringing anyone over. He lived alone but he never invited me over. When the semester started, we started seeing each other more. We would catch up after class, meet in the library or just cross paths. it was great to see someone who was so dedicated at not being a failure, until I realized I was a failure. I remember the first time we had a conversation about my major. He had asked me for about a month, but I never gave him an answer. Compared to his plan I had nothing, and I was ashamed of that. He was majoring in communications, which he would then flip to law and international studies. It sounded better when he explained it, I was too dumb to keep up with his explanation. He persisted on asking me over and over again, until I finally broke one day. We were studying in the library together; we were there for hours. When we finally finished, it was about eleven at night. He offered to walk me back to my building, I accepted. When we left the library, he started.

Trevor: so, are you going to finally tell me your major? I see you reading all kinds of books and doing all these writings, but nothing is related?

Me: there is really nothing to tell

Trevor: I really don’t know why you won’t tell me

Me: again, there is nothing to tell

Trevor: you know I won’t stop asking right?

Me: Liberal arts

Trevor: what? Why?

Me: I don’t know what I want to do with my life

Trevor: anything but that, you’re wasting your time

Me: I have a feeling

Trevor: don’t do this to yourself

Me: Do what?

Trevor: waste your time, running around in circles

Me: not everyone can be you

Trevor: this has nothing to do with me. It’s about your future

Me: I will figure it out

Trevor: When?

Me: I really don’t think that’s how it works

Trevor: how does it work then?

Me: This is why I did not want to tell you

Trevor: because you know yourself, you’re pissing away your scholarship

Me: no, because I knew you would not understand

Trevor: why don’t you try being a writer

Me: I have nothing to write

Trevor: Science?

Me: doesn’t interest me

Trevor: what does interest you?

Me: pain

Trevor: what the fuck? Did you just say pain?

Me: yes, pain. Why do we feel pain?

Trevor: wow

Me: I’m not like you

Trevor: that’s not the point

Me: that is exactly the point. We are from two different dimensions

Trevor: I’m just a regular person

Me: I’m not normal

Trevor: don’t say that

 Me: you don’t know me

Trevor: I am trying

Me: don’t. pain can be contagious

He said nothing the rest of the walk. We walked in silence as we gazed at the stars. I felt as if I scared him off, but he still continued to talk with me. when we got to the front of my building, we just stared at each other. We then turned to walk away from each other. I felt judged, but it was not his fault. It was a me problem, I was not happy with my life. I was happy with spurts of my life, but overall, I hated it. he was right, I was pissing away my scholarship.

I barely saw my roommates since the semester started. They basically stayed hidden and I barely wanted to be there. When we did see each other, there was nothing but silence. We just stared at each other until a door closed. This is how we lived with each other.

After I left Trevor, i made my way upstairs. When I finally made it upstairs, I saw Kate the girl whose room is supposedly took. She was with two men in black suits, she looked petrified. They looked intimidating and serious. We all walked past each other, and I could smell fear in the air. I tried my best not to turn back and look so I would not raise any suspicion. I got to my door and before I put my key card in, I turned around. When I did, I saw all three of them staring at me. I locked eyes with Kate who was on the verge of shedding some tears. One of the men put his hands on her shoulder and squinted at me. the fear hit my heart quickly, as I started to shake. I quickly put my key card in and opened the door. I quickly ran in and shut the door. As I was panicking, I saw Valerie and Erica who were shocked to see me. They also looked scared at something; they were not expecting me to show up. When it finally hit them that I was staring at them, they grabbed two black bags and ran in one the rooms. I heard them whispering about something, but I could not make it out. I ran straight to my room and locked the door. I tried to take some deep breaths to calm myself. Nothing happened, but a lot happened at the same time. Who the hell were those people? And why was everyone so scared? I threw my stuff on my bed and continued to calm myself. I went to take a hot shower to fully calm my nerves.

After my shower, I went to look at my phone. I saw that Trevor had text me. it read “just wanted to apologize, I know that was not cool of me”. wow! Someone actually apologized to me? I did not think such a thing was possible. It made me feel human. I know, I know, such a small thing that he probably did not even mean anyway. To me, that meant the world. That is how broken I was. I responded and we continued to talk until I fell asleep. I realized that my nightmares had disappeared since I started talking to him. I did not want to think too deep into it, but I could not stop myself from thinking deep about him. I still had dark thoughts and I hated what was in my head. He gave me a glimpse of how I was supposed to be talked to. He was the complete opposite of Tiffany; it gave me somewhat of a balance. He showed he cared in the way I had always dreamed off. What does an 18-year-old know anyway. All I knew is that the more I talked to him, the more I resented the way Tiffany was treating me.

A week had passed since tiffany last spoke to me. I spoke to Trevor daily and also saw him daily. The only thing was I was still intimate with Tiffany and I loved it. This torn me up, if only I could merge them into one person. 18-year-old dreaming again. I was at work when I received a message from Tiffany, it was for a “visit”. How we would do this was that, after everyone would leave the offices. I stayed back and pretended as if I still had work to finish up. she did the same, except because of her position it raised no suspicion. After this I would go to her office and we would be in there for hours. I don’t think I need to tell you what we did in there. The only difference this time, was that I was speaking to Trevor way too much. He started getting to my head, I wanted Tiffany to talk to me the way Trevor did. That was not going to happen, but I wanted it.

I did the usual, I waited for everyone to leave. Then I went to her office, to see her. Again, it was about a week since she spoke to me. I hated that she would make me feel so disposable, then call me over like a dog. My fault was that I ran to her, but I would never let my feelings be known. Three hours later after we finished having sex, I still felt so disposable. I looked at her as she was getting dressed, and I slipped-

Me: I hate the way that you treat me. it fucking sucks

Tiffany: how do I treat you?

Me: like your pet

Tiffany: like a pet?

As she was talking to me, she had her back turned to me

Me: yes, like a pet. It’s like I’m just a nobody

Tiffany: what are you talking about?

Me: you don’t even turn to talk to me. it’s as if I don’t deserve the courtesy of you speaking to me face to face.

Tiffany: why are you talking like this?

Me: I hate what’s in my head

I do not know why I said this, I was so emotional that It just fell out of my mouth. I immediately regretted it as soon as it came out. What I did not expect was her response. With no emotion or anything she said-

-“If you hate what’s in your head, why the fuck would you speak your mind”-

She then calmly opened the door and walked out.

I was left alone, naked, with tears rolling down my face, wondering

-Why the fuck did I speak my mind? –


5 thoughts on “Jane’s Diary

      1. I like it when it’s retains realism. The first story that I completed, the one that was utter trash, was so unrealistic, it was painful. I had the idea to have a amphibious vehicle that could convert to anything like the Transformers, but had the stupid idea to have it become a plane and somehow change to a rowboat.
        I was only like 10 or 11 in my defense.


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