My Love Story (So Far..)- Chapter Eight

Please be reminded; any names of people portrayed in this series are altered to protect their identities.

I managed to get a hold of Seth and made my way over to his house, contemplating what I was going to say. When I arrived, he greeted me with a hug and leaned in for a kiss, but I turned my cheek instinctively and asked him to take a seat. I could almost see his heart drop and explained to him how I had been feeling, telling him I thought it best if we end the relationship before things got worse.
To his credit, he took it very well and handled it maturely. I collected my things and we hugged. I knew he was fighting back the tears, so I thought it best to leave so he could let out his emotions; I knew he wouldn’t want to do so in front of me, especially not now. I walked out the door and returned home, feeling a surprising sense of relief. It almost felt as though I had been holding my breath for a long stretch of time, and had finally allowed myself to exhale. The air felt cleaner, the sun shone brighter, and I knew I had done the right thing.

After a few weeks, I got in touch with Ryder. We’d decided to catch a movie one night and I recall being nervous the entire time. We ended the night on a simple kiss before I made my way home, giddy and eager to see him again.

One day, I decided to go hang out with him at his place. We spent the time watching movies and as one thing lead to another, we wound up sleeping together. He had to work early the next morning, so we drove to the area of his shop and went our separate ways. I remember practically dancing home.

We hung out more often and I’d learned more about he and his career. I had also learned that he had a son whom he often saw. While that fact surprised me, I didn’t care; I was falling for him hard and fast, and was ready and willing to accept anything at that point if it meant he’d want me. I knew he was still hung up over the mother of his child, but I was willing to work through any scars he had.
Before too long, however, he started to do things that seemed all too familiar. He was less talkative, unavailable more often, and he started to do and say things that would throw me off. For example, he once described me as the ‘expendable red-shirt’ in his circle. That struck me like a dagger through the heart, but I laughed it off as a joke.

I started to notice a trend. Whenever I would strike up a conversation or try to say hello to him, my messages would be ignored. Then weeks later, he would call me, asking if I wanted to hang out. I was just happy to hear from him at all, so of course, I obliged, but I started to learn that he was only calling me when no one else was answering, or when he felt lonely. Regardless, I still wanted to be around him whenever I could.

I can clearly recall the last night we’d spent together. The next morning, he dropped me off at the nearest train station, but he didn’t drive off while I walked away. Then I remember passing by an alternative girl with bright pink hair. I had a feeling in my stomach when I passed her and waited inside the station to where the glass windows overlooked the lot. As I suspected, I watched her climb into the passenger seat of his car, and he drove away. The numbness started to show it’s ugly head once more as I took the long trip home, uncertain of where to go from there.

I stopped attempting to get in touch as much, but like an obedient little puppy, I would always answer when he called and show up when he requested. To this day, I shake my head at the memory. I knew I had meant next to nothing to him, but anytime he told me he was sad or lonely, I was right by his side with what may as well have been the snap of his fingers. So desperate to impress him and to show him how much I cared, I knew I would do anything he asked if it meant he would smile even if only for a moment; and even though I could feel myself die a little every time I heard his name or saw his face, I would keep up the charade for nearly a year before he’d drawn the final straw.

It was New Year’s Eve, and I had planned to invite a few people over to have dinner, then head out to see the fireworks. More than anything, I was crossing my fingers for Ryder to show, but to my dismay, no one showed up at all. I’d spent the countdown alone, having thrown or put away most of the food I’d prepared and finished the bottle of wine on my own as I let my desire for sleep take me. The next day, he texted me and asked how my evening was. Unwilling to tell him how I felt, I simply said it was quiet and uneventful. Still, he must have known I was hurting, so he invited me out to run errands with him.

When the time came to decide whether I would go home with him or otherwise, he decided to drop me off at the bus stop in the downtown core. It wasn’t quite midnight yet, so I knew I would still be able to catch the last bus. As he drove away, I put my earbuds in my ears and let the sadness hit me again.
To my surprise, a couple minutes later, I felt someone tug at my handbag. I turned to see a man in a brown hoodie trying to pry my purse from me. When he realized I wasn’t letting go, he stepped in and delivered a swift punch to my rib-cage. In a pained panic, I reached out with the palm of my hand and pushed up on his nose with a swift thrust, knocking him to the ground as I started to run to the next bus stop.
I managed to flag down the bus and got on, managing to escape and return home somewhat safely. I didn’t even call the police to report anything. I simply checked my bruises to make sure they weren’t too serious, curled up, and went to bed.

As the days passed, I started to let the pain really sink in. I began to understand that Ryder would never love me, regardless of my actions. I sent him a message, essentially saying farewell, and turned my back on him as I knew I should have done nearly a year ago.

I felt no relief. Only sadness. I felt that through the course of his influence, I had lost so much of myself and despite the fact that I had ‘left’ him, I still wanted him near me.
When I had met him, I did not suspect I would fall for him as hard as I did, nor did I think he would be capable of inflicting so much pain on me. To this day, he remains my most damaging ‘relationship’ I have ever allowed myself to be in.
333551_origTo be continued…


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My New Feature: Personality Quizzes!

Hi there, folks!

I’m happy to announce I’ve come across a quiz-making site I quite like. Back in the day, I used to create quizzes on Quizilla.com for fun before they were bought out and eventually shut down. Having missed it, I’ve decided to launch my own line of personality quizzes for you to try out. Whether you’re curious or just plain bored, I hope you enjoy them regardless!

My first official quiz has been released just now, so go ahead and check it out. Don’t forget to check back for more quizzes in the future.

What would your Hogwarts House be?

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Is there a quiz you’d like to see? Suggest it by commenting below, or email me at bloodstone.commissions@outlook.com so I can look into creating it!

~Miss Bloodstone


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My Love Story (So Far…)- Chapter Seven

Please be reminded; any names of people portrayed in this series are altered to protect their identities.

Due to my habit of skipping classes and not showing up to school, when graduation crept near, I decided to stay back one more year to tie up my academic loose ends. By the time my Grade 13 year began, the rumours had become old news and people started focusing on other things. I knew I didn’t want to bother dating for some time, so I decided to simply do my own thing, hoping this year would pass quickly so I could finally leave behind all the bad memories and move on with my life.

I had started to reach out and reconnect with some old friends. As fate would have it, my first boyfriend (Seth) started contacting me with casual conversations. I knew my feelings for him hadn’t gone away, but the pain had long died down. Conversation turned to coffee, then coffee turned into a lunch date. Before we knew it, we were in a relationship again. I was slightly concerned about the whole thing when it all started; after all, I remember how horrible I felt the last time we parted.

I knew I had grown much over the years, however. As time passed, our relationship built and we even lived together for about a year. Granted, the circumstances as to why I moved in with him weren’t the greatest. When you’re at that age and living with your parents, personalities have a tendency to clash. So I figured, “I’ll move in with my boyfriend; whom you despise, by the way. That’ll show ya.”
All things considered, our relationship was going well; I may even say it was thriving. The distance did my family and I some good as my relationship with them began to grow much less toxic. However, over two years of being with Seth began to wear on my nerves. I don’t know what changed, but it seemed as though suddenly, everything he did just made me cringe. I tried to shrug it off and pretend I was just in a weird state of mind; surely it would pass.

The leaves changed, the weather began to grow colder, and I found myself growing distant. We started to get into more arguments, and I found myself feeling physically sick whenever he touched me or held me. I started to go for late-night walks just to get away. In retrospect, I couldn’t imagine how confusing my behaviour must have been for him at the time. I decided to take on a seasonal job working at a Halloween festival in the city, hoping it would get my mind off of my relationship.
That job turned out to be one of the best times I could recall from my teen years. I was just a games attendant, but the people there were so much fun to work with. I found myself genuinely smiling while I was there. Especially when I was matched up to work with Ryder. He was an odd duck, that’s for sure; but his eccentric nature and devilish grin had piqued my curiosity. I looked forward to working with him every weekend, and before I knew it, I was hooked.

It was an unfortunate situation; every time Seth spoke to me, I found myself rolling my eyes and wishing for silence. The dynamic when I was working with Ryder was so drastically different that I found myself wanting to be around him as much as I could. Despite these feelings, I kept my distance. I had started staying at my parents’ again from time to time just to get some decent sleep.

By the time the final day of the festival had come and gone, I collected my things from the booth I was stationed at and recall feeling a sense of panic when my coworker/friend at the time decided she would run over and tell him I wanted to, how she so eloquently put it; “have his mouth-babies.” I wasn’t sure what that meant, but before I could grab her or flag her down, she’d already run up to him and was tugging his sleeve. I remember feeling hot head-to-toe, and feeling unsure of whether or not I should stay and wait for the rejection or simply leave then and there so I wouldn’t have to see. My legs seemed to have decided for me as they cemented to the ground. To my surprise, after a quick exchange of words, Ryder looked over to me, smiled brightly, looked back at my friend and did a little hop of joy before she ran back to join me.

Apparently, the romantic interest was mutual. I laughed, waved farewell and made my way back home.

I know, I know. “Why didn’t I go for him?”

Well, you forget; I was still in a relationship with Seth at the time. Testing the waters when I’m already taken has never been my style. However, once that night had ended, and I climbed into my bed, I knew I had some thinking to do. I would be speaking to Seth the next day, and quite possibly for the last time.
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To be continued…


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My Love Story (So Far…)- Chapter 6

Please be reminded; any names of people portrayed in this series are altered to protect their identities.

After I watched Cory’s car disappear for the final time, I didn’t just break; I self-destructed. I cried myself to sleep nearly every night and lost my inspiration in all things. It was around the first time I started to inflict physical harm on myself. I didn’t know if it was as a result from losing Cory, or if it was simply a combination of the depression I’d been trying to keep at bay. I no longer cared about the reason; it just gave me a different kind of pain to focus on.

I got involved with someone new half a year later, eager to feel loved by someone; anyone. I found a pretty-boy named Michael who seemed to be almost as deluded as I was. He won me over with good looks and pretty words, but my lack of confidence and numbness of self was very obvious. We were only together for a couple weeks, and it wasn’t long before he started taking advantage of it. I found myself hanging out with he and his friends all the time, to whom he would insist to grab my chest because I had to be ‘felt to be believed.’

I didn’t let myself care. I just shrugged and went along with it. I would do anything to be accepted, and my body no longer meant much to me. Whatever I have to do to keep the loneliness away. No one ever did anything but feel me up, though. Still, I can’t say I’m happy about letting anyone put their hands on me. He called me his ‘angel’ and that was good enough for me.

One day, he took me home with him and we watched a movie, and we even started cuddling. He and I kissed a little, but I wouldn’t even call it making-out. For a moment, I felt something more than slight attraction, but it was late and I my ride home was waiting outside. I said goodbye and went on my way.

He started to mess with me. Some days, he would talk to me, others he would blatantly avoid me. I soon found out it was because he was getting involved with someone else. I couldn’t feel sadness anymore; all I felt was a rising anger that only worsened every day he continued the games. I had started to overhear stories at school. Stories that said I had forced myself on him, that I had practically raped him, and that I was just some whore that would fuck pretty much anyone who told me their name. I wasn’t very popular to begin with, but this made me one of the most-hated people around at the time, and the friends I’d had left stopped wanting to be around me.

I found him waiting for his bus one day when everyone else had already gone home. Content I had him alone, I told him I never wanted to seem him again and that whatever we’d had was done. I knew breaking up with him wouldn’t make my situation any better, but I just wanted to make sure he wouldn’t come back to toy with my emotions and lack of social life again.

The next couple of months consisted of getting out of bed, going to school and wandering the city and graveyard until I could try to get home in time to intercept the automated call from the school saying I was absent. Sometimes it worked, sometimes it didn’t. I received many a stern lecture, but every word went through one ear and out the other. I didn’t want to have to hear it anymore. I didn’t want to hear the uttering threats and hateful names, knowing I had no one on my side who even cared whether or not the stories were true.

If I was going to be the ‘most-hated’ girl in school, I figured I should simply make myself scarce. People were not shy about saying my attendance was a waste of time and space. After a few months had passed, I started returning to school on-and-off , and the hate started to grow less obvious. Rather than threats and hateful words, I’d simply suffer the occasional dirty look. I was completely numb. The only time I felt anything was when I was angry, or when I crumbled and started hunting for the razor blade again to steal away my focus.

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To be continued…


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My Love Story (So Far…)- Chapter 5

Please be reminded; any names of people portrayed in this series are altered to protect their identities.

My break-up with Felix was hitting me harder than I thought it would. I had mistakenly allowed myself to get too attached, and to top it all off, I had essentially “broken-up” with the majority of my friends as a result. I decided to try jumping right into a different relationship, certain that my sadness would go away if I found someone else to focus my time and energy on; I created an account on an online dating site. Not the smartest idea since I was still technically underage.

I had a few responses, but only one really seemed to stand out. He was a 21 year-old named Cory. He seemed like a sweet, level-headed guy, but he lived an entire province away. That didn’t stop us from trying to meet, however. It wasn’t long before he made the decision to drive out to meet me. I counted down the days and agreed to meet him in the park one afternoon. When I arrived, he was waiting for me on the swing-set, and the first thing he said to me was, “saved you a seat; you get the squeaky one.”

I laughed as the tension faded and we began our first conversation we’d ever had face-to-face. He was exactly what I’d thought he’d be. He only spent a few days there with me, but it was the most calm and relaxed I’d been for a long time, so seeing him go was a particularly sad day, but we started texting each other constantly until he returned a couple months later. While he was here, we’d dubbed the French Vanilla Iced Cappuccinos our personal drinks; seriously, we couldn’t stop, it was unhealthy. Some couples have a song, some have a movie, we had a cold drink. That’s not weird, is it?

That was when we decided to get a little more serious. We spent the day in the townsite by the mountains, listening to music and exploring the shops before driving back to the city by sunset and going our separate ways at night. The next day, I’d decided to join him in his hotel. I don’t recall much about the experience, but before too long, it was time for him to return home again. Knowing he’d be back before too long, I was content with texting and calling until then.

Once again, he visited me a few more months down the road. The first couple of days were fantastic. We’d spent the second day at the movies, but for some reason, I found myself feeling a bit out of sorts. I was not as jovial as I usually was and I think he must have noticed; I knew I was simply wishing he didn’t have to leave the next day. We came home to my¬† house that night and cuddled up on the couch until the late-night. It was about two in the morning when a silence set over us. Before even a minute had passed, he spoke quietly. “I really like you…”
I smiled at the compliment, but he finished the sentence with, “but I don’t think I’m ever going to love you.”

It took me a moment to process the blunt remark and I moved away from him in hurt confusion. He explained that he enjoyed being with me, but just didn’t think I was ‘the one for him.’ While I understood, I can’t say the feeling was mutual. I held back my tears as much as I could and suggested he sleep in the guest bedroom while I slept in mine upstairs. He agreed and the moment he was out of the room, the tears came. I cried quietly, hoping no one would hear. I managed to achieve scattered sleep before morning came. He had wanted to be awake by a certain time, so as I usually did, I walked down the stairs to wake him.

He seemed to have forgotten our conversation when he had just woken up and started to pull me down to cuddle with him, but when I gently pushed away and stood for a moment in awkward silence, it seemed that he remembered what had happened. I met him upstairs, thinking he would want to be on his way, but he lingered between conversation and watching tv with me until sunset. The wait felt like torture, but a part of me was happy because I still got to spend a little more time with him there.

I helped him bring his bags out to his car. As we loaded the final piece into the back, we looked at each other and he took a step towards me so he was close as I dropped my chin to cover my face with my hair, hoping he wouldn’t see my eyes welling up with tears. He lifted my chin and apologized for hurting me. I said nothing, and simply nodded. He pulled me close and we shared one more long kiss before he drove away into the light of dusk. I watched until his car turned around the corner for the final time and returned to my home to finally let myself break.

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To be continued…


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My Love Story (So Far…)- Chapter 4

Please be reminded; any names of people portrayed in this series are altered to protect their identities.

It wasn’t long before I’d dusted myself off and left Johnny in my past. At that time, many of us spent our lunch-hour in the basement by the band room. Few people aside from our group ever came down there, so we designated it as ‘our turf.’ One of our group that had been around well before Johnny and I met had always stood out in my perspective; I always did have a thing for blue eyes, after all. His name was Felix. I had strong feelings towards him, but I didn’t suspect those feelings were returned.

One night, however, our group had gathered at my house to relax and watch Disney movies. We’d tossed in The Lion King and he and I had gone from sitting together on the couch, to hesitantly cuddling upright until we were lying side-by-side as he held me close to him. I gathered up to gall to turn and face him and just enjoyed the silent moment. Here comes the cheesy part; as the movie progressed, the classic ‘Can You Feel the Love Tonight?’ song started playing. Before I knew it, we were making out. From there, we just kind of took off. I will give him this, he was a very good kisser.

We spent most of our time cuddling, but I’d done the same thing I did in my previous relationship and tried to give him what he wanted before I was ready. While we never did sleep together, I recall doing other things with him that I’m not necessarily proud of. It wasn’t long before that got around and everyone in our group knew all about it. From there, everyone outside our group knew, and quite possibly their dogs were whispering about it, too. Bottom-line, a lot of people didn’t see me in the same light anymore, but I didn’t care. I was with him, and whatever made him happy would surely bring me happiness too.

All but three months later, Valentine’s Day was upon us, but I’d noticed he was acting a little distant during the previous days. February 13th crept around the corner and we were chatting over MSN messenger that night when he’d told me he had just tried to get back together with his ex-girlfriend, who had turned him down regardless. Mutually, we decided to go our separate ways, but I recall feeling a wave of pain like I had not felt with Johnny.

I continued to stay in the same place our group always did, but weeks later, he was in a serious relationship with an adorable girl in our group. I remember them being obnoxiously lovey-dovey whenever they were together, but that is, perhaps simply because I was very sensitive to it at the time. Still, I remember people looking over to me, waiting for me to react, and whispering amongst each other in discomfort. It didn’t take long before I stopped joining them there. I began my habit of wandering. I didn’t care where; I would simply walk around and about, dreaming of an escape from the handful of friends I had left behind.

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To be continued…


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Zombiepocalypse: What Would You Do?

This was created by me, but you are free to use it and pass it along. I don’t expect nor care whether or not I am credited. This is all just for fun!
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1. If you were in your home while the zombie-pocalypse started happening, what would you do?

I would start assigning tasks to my household. In my current situation, I live with four others.

  • First: head upstairs and start filling the tubs and sinks with water, and prepping for the demolition of our beloved staircase.
  • Second: ensure the doors are locked and keep a lookout for immediate danger. If the situation gets dicey enough where we no longer have time to prepare, they would alert the rest of us and run upstairs to safety with anything they can collect along the way.
  • Third: collect as much non-perishable food as possible, as well as containers and toiletries if time allows the luxury.
  • Forth: collect weapons, tools, batteries, entertainment, rope, tools, first aid, blankets, etc.

Once that was done, it’s up the stairs we go. We’d demolish the staircase and hide away in the temporary safety of the rooms on the top level. With two full bathrooms and three bedrooms, we should be able to sustain ourselves for a while. At this point, we can try to contact other loved ones, but it’s doubtful we will get through. Now, it’s all about conserving energy and keeping calm while starting to discuss our next steps.

We would keep a great deal of rope up above as our means of getting back down to ground-level, but only if we have no choice and must gather supplies or leave our home.

When the time came where things had quieted down enough to leave, I would start to seek out the rest of my loved ones at my own risk. There are a very small handful of people I would risk death for, but I would not stop hunting for them until they were found. The only thing that would stop me then would be death itself.

2. How many survivors would be in your group?
Ideally, two to five. Any more than that may be too large. I don’t believe in safety in numbers; more people means more mouths to feed and more asses to save if they get in trouble. With a smaller group, you can keep track of each other, but still distribute the tasks and workload comfortably.

3. What are your thoughts on killing zombies?
It’s only to be done when absolutely necessary. We all love the games and movies, but killing a zombie in real life would not be the same. You are risking drawing attention to yourself, and exposing yourself to infection and danger. Having to kill zombies would be an unavoidable part of survival, but that doesn’t mean you need to go out looking for trouble. Avoid them when you can, and if you can’t, take them out quickly and quietly.

4. What would you wear if you had the choice?
A tank top, a light jacket, cargo pants, a utility belt, hiking boots, and riding gloves. All in black, army green, and brown. There’s no place for neon in a post-apocalyptic world. I would also wear a string necklace with a single bullet that would be saved for myself if I found myself in an inescapable situation.

5. What would you choose as your melee weapon?
I will always choose the multi-purposed crowbar. I would also accept a lead pipe, or a metal baseball bat, but those wouldn’t be my preferences. I would be keeping a hunting knife on me at all times. If your weapon can double as a tool, you may be even better off.

6. What would you choose as your primary weapon?
Two handguns. I would probably go with the standard Glock simply because they are low-maintenance, and relatively easy to use. If I were a better shot, I would prefer  bow and arrow, but at my current skill level, I would be horribly ineffective.

7. What skills do you currently have that would benefit you?
I am able to spend long stretches of time in solitude without it getting to my head and am relatively decent at critical thinking. Aside from that, I would be at quite a disadvantage as I am.

8. List three skills you would want to acquire before a zombie-pocalypse were to arise.
Impeccable first aid training, physical stamina, and the ability to find resources in the wild.

9. You hear a noise nearby; do you investigate?
Doubtful. If the area from whence it came happened to be spacious and well-lit, I may consider it, but that’s one of the easiest ways to get yourself killed.

10. Where is your ideal location to wait out a zombie-pocalypse?
It all depends on what resources you have available. If you can make it out to a military base in the middle of the ocean, go for it; but it’s unlikely you’d manage to make it there. I would not intend to wait it out. I would settle from place to place for short periods of time, but the key is to keep moving.

11. What would be your favoured mode of transportation?
By foot. Always by foot.

12. What is, in your opinion, the most dangerous aspect of the zombie-pocalypse?
The living. Zombies are predictable, but realistically, the two things that will pose the biggest threat are other survivors who are either desperate or just plain horrible people, and your own mind would cause problems on it’s own. The situation is traumatic no matter how you slice it, so your mind could start playing tricks on you, or the stress of it all could even drive you to insanity if you’re not cautious.

13. Would you have a pet?
If anything, I would keep a mouse, rat, or a small snake. Any creature that is silent, easy to carry, and quick would be best. That way, if something were to happen to me, they would be able to escape with little risk.

14. You’ve been bitten and no one in your group knows yet; what will do?
I would be up front and say my goodbyes, leaving the group so they wouldn’t have to see the whole bullet-to-the-head thing. There’s no way in hell I’m going to be a zombie, but I’m not going to ask my group to watch.

15. Do you think a zombie-pocalypse could ever happen?
Not necessarily. Outbreaks of rabies I think would probably be as close as it would get, but no strain that would happen in real life would really function like they do in the media. I’m certain any “zombie-pocalypse” that would ever happen in reality would be nothing like we’ve seen in film.

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Want to give this survey a go? Copy and paste it to your own blog/website and give it a try! Morbid curiosity never really killed the cat, did it?


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