Friday, February 8, 2013

Cold Feet

This morning, I slipped when I walked down the hill to my bus stop. But that was okay 'cause I caught myself. 

I'm not ready to fall, and I certainly don't want to.

So why does everything seem so pointless? This is the worst depression I've ever gotten into, and I'm so sad and I don't even know why. I was thinking about it this morning. It's not sad like those times I see Seattle and know he doesn't like me. It's not sad like the way some people look at me. It's not sad like not having a good book to read, or being late for school {not that I've ever done that} or any other kind of heartbreak.

It's me.

This morning I did a lap around my school, even though I was scared of the darkness at the back of it. I ran and ran and ran and was hardly out of my breath, but my heart was racing and I stood there singing.

Last night, I dug my baby blanket out from the closet in my parents' room. It's been folded neatly there since I put it away this summer. It was the softest thing in the world and I used to fall asleep with my hands rubbing it because it was nice to know something was that sweet and mine. But it got tattered ad I was so scared of ruining it that I put it away. But sometimes you gotta take a chance, so I brought it out because I needed it.

I cried last night so hard, but it hurt even more knowing that I had to take measured breaths and muffle myself in my baby blanket and pillow because my sister was still awake on the bottom of the bunkbed beneath me. This morning I wished I could cry, but sometimes the fake smile is natural because you don't want anybody to really see ... you want them to try to see. 

I ran more, too. I ran away from Nash and Danica, Seattle and Orqua, friends and friends and friends and friends and nobody put their arm around me 'cause nobody knows how much I'm not



and so I ran, and in Science I wrote in my journal to pass the time and my gum reserved for special occasions is running out and the snow splattered like rain against my face and I wanted so much for something to run to.

But I tore my prayers out of my notebook and gave them to Danica and I ran ran ran but she caught up and caught my shoulders in a hug from behind and slipped me a note and I almost cried reading it.

You always hit my heart in the perfect place

So how come no matter how many times I try to reach my own, it's broke? 

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