It's Not that Simple
I got to see my brother and sister this weekend; it was nice. Although, being at St. Louis and spending time with my family as a whole was fun, it was stressful because we had our family feuds. We ended up spending a great portion of our time arguing. Family troubles, you gotta love it.
I didn't talk to Romeo, the entire weekend and it was weird. After being accustomed to talking every night for more than a year, the nights that you don't are always a little loopy.
A guy in Chemistry was talking to me about Romeo because he was flipping through my planner and saw a picture of me and Romes. Which then lead to a big conversation about me being here, the move, how I put up with a long distance relationship, etc. I replied the way I usually do with the mandatory answers: "Yeah, it's hard. I didn't want to move. I moved because my Dad got a better position up here. How I miss him a lot." But I could never truly tell 'how it is' without stopping the lesson and asking them to stay after class well into the night to tell them my story about what kind of pain I'm in, the pain I'm causing my family, and the over-all madness that this entire 'move' has done to my life. But these new kids in my school are strangers to me and I'm not that open to strangers.
I recently learned that my sister has missed an over-all two weeks of classes in college because of what I did to my family (plus her friends issues). You think, what could I have possibly done that was so bad? It was not just one thing. The way I was for the first two weeks was unbearable. I would cry for hours at end. Yell at my parents twice more. I was so unmoving about me staying here, blaming them over and over again about how they didn't love me enough to let me go back. I would scream constantly that they weren't my parents, that if they loved me remotely that they would send me back. I believed that their love for me was measured based upon what school I went to. I was unmoving about any of their petitions about how it's 'impossible', highly-unlikely, that I just the 'new kid' and everything would be okay. How was I suppose to believe them? They weren't at school with me everyday. They didn't know what it was like! They didn't know the pain. They couldn't feel me dying.
My friends. My brother. My sister. My boyfriend. Gone. None of them with me. No tangible shoulder to cry to. No one to hold my hand or wipe away my tears. No one. My entire world miles and miles away from me. I come home every day at 2:40 to myself and the computer for company. The schedule doesn't change on the weekend except for it's a longer day on the computer. Nothing has changed. I lost 13 Ibs those few weeks. I couldn't eat, I can barely eat still, although I have been trying. My parents even bought me gummy bears as vitamins to make it seem more apealing. They believed that buying gummy bear vitamins would make my pain seem insignificant and you could make it go away with crayons and a smiley face band-aid. It's not that simple.
don't wake me i plan on sleeping in
don't make me i plan on sleeping in
don't wake me i plan on sleeping in
~the postal service
Air. Clouds. Breathe.