definition of Irony.

I had my final today for my creative writing class. I chose to write a lot of pieces about my ex boyfriend, we will say his name is Steve. Steve left me 8 months ago and has never looked back. I have not heard a word from him and I have spent many a nights crying over how someone so close to you can simply leave. I have since been able to find closure. I owe a great deal of this closure to my writing for my class. i have been able to channel my feelings into words on paper and I feel they have turned out quite wonderful.

So today I arrived a bit behind schedule to the free parking lot at school. I saw the shuttle starting to leave the lot so I slammed the doors to my car and hauled my exceptionally heavy backpack over my shoulder, all the while carrying two awkward large boxes filled with pepperoni pizza. 

I caught up with the shuttle as it is at the stop sign preparing to turn on to oncoming traffic. I wave dramatically with my free hand and plea with the driver to open his doors.

He was very kind... and actually did. I stepped inside to see many faces staring at me. I felt pretty silly as I slid between two girls near the front of the bus. I was laughing. Trying to make conversation with someone... but everyone kept looking at me as if I was crazy. So I kept to myself tapping on my pizza boxes.

The shuttle stopped and a lot of people got off. I sighed, set down my pizzas and started to fumble through my back pack like a crazy.

I was still laughing and muttering under my breath to my self. I finally relaxed and started to look around the bus...

There at the back, averting his eyes, ignoring (like I would have excepted) my existence, was Steve.

I smiled to myself.

OF COARSE he is on the shuttle where I look like a maniac. OF COARSE the only time I see him this semester is here, now, with me looking ridiculous and while I am carrying a bunch of paper work in my back pack, revealing my feelings about him.

IRONY

I get off at the same stop as him, and I plow ahead trying not to look back.

I was still laughing at how hilarious God is sometimes as I walked in to my final.

A poem I wrote

I have to write a bunch of stuff for my final project for class...
Here is one of the things I wrote.

A Million Pieces of Me

My trembling hands

 reached forward

 as I laid my story out,

 for him to see.

But my grip slipped.

He flew away then,

Before I could even breathe.

His eyes grew into thin lines

and never looked at me

the same way again.

“We can work this out”

“Let’s start over”

“I messed up, 

I’m sorry”

I cried violently into the wind

that only carried him

 further away.

I became a million pieces

all longing for his return.

So here you are with glue, tape

and no experience,

trying to figure out 

his demolished creation

called me.

and so they say it again and again

They say I am pathetic. They say I live in the past... I am sad for not moving on...for being so stupid.
They say I am pathetic.
But look at where I have been... Step in to my worn out shoes and tell me please as you lace up the lead filled laces if they are uncomfortable for you.
Tell me if as you trot down the paths filled with boulders and thorns if you think its really that pathetic to hold on to better times?
Yes I know to want what once was is wrong... and I see where I fault. I see where I am as you say, irrational. Where I am silly and dumb.
But its hard to move on from a story thats end was so unfinished... a story that was left with such loose ends.
I am trying my best in all that I do, and sometimes Its sucks when no one else see's that.

But here is the thing my dear friend... I don't care that you don't see where I have come from and how much better I am now. I don't care that you think I am pathetic and lost and a loser holding on to nothing...
I see myself as a survivor... who is human. Who occasionally messes up and makes mistakes But I am a survivor. I am strong. and I don't need your approval.
I know that I may disappoint but maybe you just don't understand me.
If you did, you would sit and listen to me cry, instead of pushing me away and causing more tears to fall.
Don't worry, I don;t blame you really... you just don't know me. No one does.