Saturday, March 26, 2016
My heart had sunk to the deepest, darkest depths of despair. It had sunk to my stomach. and to my colon and even further down. In that moment, I felt like all the sweat, tears, and blood I'd invested in my high school career immediately went down the drain. It wasn't fair. It really wasn't fair. It wasn't over yet, but it may as well have been. I couldn't take it anymore. I just couldn't. Had I had too much pride? What did I do wrong? What didn't I do right? Why didn't they want me? I sat alone, stressed.
Friday, March 25, 2016
They're a beautiful crystal blue. Even as the rest of your body melts away and rots and disintegrates, your eyes will stay there for eternity, engraved in my mind until it's my turn for my body to melt away and rot and disintegrate. They're shiny, like glass. Glass eyes... except you have full control over them as you stare at me. Fake glass eyes could never look at me that way. They're cold, but you're warm. Such a stark contrast. It's almost jarring. Almost. I felt sick on the inside, my stomach churning in ten billion directions. Can't help it.
Thursday, March 24, 2016
My life was in a truly awful scramble. There were a lot of things I didn't understand--that I couldn't understand. I felt like I was Colonel Cathcart from Catch-22, always so concerned with my status relative to that of others. Why did I always feel the need to compare? Why? What was so great about that? It just made me feel like shit in the end. Everything was awful, and the worst part was, there was nothing I could do about it. Things were too hard, much too hard. There were only so many things I could handle at once.
Wednesday, March 23, 2016
Beatrice missed Scott. He was only one call away, like that freaking Charlie Puth song, but she didn't want to call. She was afraid, afraid that she'd call only to find that he was no longer the man she fell in love with ten years ago, the man she needed in the moment. She decided it would be best to keep the loving, charming 10-years-ago Scott, the Scott that had loved her unconditionally, in her head. So she waited. Waited for him to call her. Then, maybe it would be easier on her if he didn't love her anymore. At least calling would show that he still cared, somewhat. Until then, she would go to sleep to try to ease the pain, holding her own hand to her chest, hugging it close and not letting it go. A tear slid from her left eye to her right, and softly let itself down onto the pillow. She choked on her own sobs, but still, ceased to make any sound. She hated it when people heard her cry. So, just like that, she drifted into oblivion and her heart no longer felt like ten thousand needles were poking it all at once.
Tuesday, March 22, 2016
I am so tired. So, so tired. Please just leave me alone. I don't want company. None at all. No, not you either. I don't want to talk about it. I don't want to talk. Just go away, go away go away I have to be alone. I don't want any reassurance. Go away. Don't talk to me. I want to be alone is that too much to ask? Is it? Maybe I should go because you're not moving. Just let me be. I want to go home. It's cold but I don't care. Just leave me alone. Please. Please.