if you're wondering if I want you to

I wanted to write a post about how excited I am for this weekend, how happy I am that September is over and October is here. I wanted to write about how I can't wait to know what my birthday present from Paul is because everyone but me knowing is just killing me, when it wouldn't bother me if no one knew. I wanted to write about how we're finally winning games in volleyball or about how I can't wait for the 22nd/23rd/24th because of the concert and (hopefully) going to Greenville. But I can't pretend.

I can't do anything. I can't breathe, I can't stop breathing, I can't make it through an entire day without forcing back tears. This has been, I think, the hardest year of my life. And I say that in all honesty, not in wanting to complain, or to whine, or to say that I deserve any better. I'm also not saying that nothing good has happened. Because it has. Trust me, I realize I'm lucky. But I also realize that I can't just have something good without having something equally bad to go with it. To top it all off, I'm so stressed. I put all my effort into having carefree moments where I can just get lost in what I'm doing or who I'm with and forget, even for the smallest second, all the bad in my life. It's hard to keep going when all I want to do is sit down and watch the world pass by. It's impossible to keep pretending I'm okay, but it's also impossible to say I'm not, when that isn't entirely true. I don't want people to look at me with pity and worry in their eyes, because I only have bad moments, not a bad life.

Half of my day today was spent somewhere else. My mind was gone from the present. I was thankful for the dark of Mrs. Heinemann's classroom when we watched the movie, so that no one could see how hard I was struggling to not let the tears run down my face. I was texting Paul and I couldn't handle the conversation. Not in public, not at all. I'm not strong enough. I'm too weak to deal. I just wanted to go to the next room and have him hug me. I hate when he knows I'm upset because he's so freaking perfect that he always knows what to say, which makes it harder. He can always get directly to the point and cause of my distress. I love him for that, but feeling so vulnerable is hard.

I'm not the type to regret. I know that every mistake I've made and everything that has happened to me just shaped me into the person I am, and I very well could have turned out a terrible person if things had gone differently. Regret is only for those who blame themselves too much or deny they share any of the blame. But I do wish the results could be different, sometimes. Like now, I wish I could go back to the way things were 6 months ago. Things weren't easy, they weren't perfect, but I didn't sit in spanish class with my palms pressed to my eyes wishing I could just take 2 weeks off from life. When Kristen was trying to help, to make things better, to give me a hug before lunch today I told her this. I told her I wanted the pain to go away. I told her I wanted to go to a time before this summer when I could just breathe and be happy. She said that things had to happen and that I shouldn't wish for something like that. I told her I knew that, and that I didn't regret, but that I hadn't thought life would fall apart so completely. She knows what I mean.

In the last year:
my dad walked back into my life (but only for a moment and to send me birthday checks)
my sister walked out of my house (and my life)
I spent too many nights crying because I could hear an argument in the other room
A close friend went through hell in a relationship and I wasn't sure how to be there to help when I didn't want her there to begin with
People I'm around think to little of themselves
I've been losing my best friend

Heather


I want you to

all the roads we have to walk along are winding

If there's one thing I hate in this world (because there aren't that many things I can truly despise), it's being sick. Most especially, missing things because I'm sick and this includes school. I knew I was risking being infected, but I let myself spend time with germ-ridden people all week. I hand sanitized like you wouldn't believe, I got more sleep than usual, and I tried to avoid physical contact with the confirmed cases of sickness. But here I am. I think Thursday was the first time I've left school early because of being ill since the third grade when I threw up on the soccer field during gym and I had to go home. I don't think I would have without the 20 + people telling me I looked miserable, without the texts I got from 3 people telling me to go home and get some rest, without Kristen dragging me down the hall to have my temperature checked by the nurse. I was determined to not miss review for my apush test, though I realized that I was showing some symptoms of the flu or some other sickness: fever, uncontrollable shaking/shivering, relentless coughing, sneezing, dizziness, utter exhaustion, total soreness all over in my muscles and joints, and a slight headache. So I called my mother and left during lunch.

But I don't have the flu, thank goodness. I'm not sure what it is, but it isn't the flu. Last night it felt like tuberculosis with all the coughing. I believe I coughed up a lung, so it's a good thing I have two of those. I'm really surprised I haven't coughed my throat raw and it isn't bleeding. But besides the continuous coughing, I'm much better now. My fever is gone, and all that's left is coughing and because of that, a very sore throat.

Towards the second half of yesterday, I started to feel well enough to actually do something, so I read. How great it was to read. I haven't gotten to pick up a book and enjoy it in a really long time, I've been so busy. And because of the book I chose (The Realm of Possibility by David Levithan), I feel like writing, which I also haven't done in a really long time. It's free verse, so I felt like writing poetry about anything and everything. I only wrote one and it's awful, but it's something.

Also, I've allowed my mind some time to think. Think about a lot of things actually. This doesn't really change anything, but I've started to realize lately that everything I thought was true about a good relationship isn't necessarily so. I've always been the type to doubt the "opposites attract" rule, not because I don't think that two opposite people can be attracted to each other, but because I don't think that's a lasting attraction that can hold for long. And I still think this is relatively true, but at the same time, my view has been shaken up a little. For all that we have in common, Paul and I disagree on a lot of subjects, or we have different taste in things. It's not major, but it's kind of amazing. It always seemed before like we were so much alike, and we still are, there are just little things. I didn't even really notice this until yesterday, when I was left to my own devices. Just an observation, though.

Music is such a wonderful thing. I think I'll go back to it now.

Heather

and all the lights that lead us there are blinding