I have heard it said,
That people come into our lives,
For a reason.
Bringing something we must learn
So much of me,
Comes from what I've
Learned from you.
You'll be with me,
Like a handprint on my heart.
Now I don't know if I believe that's true.
But I know I'm who I am today,
Because I knew you.
-Glinda, "For Good." (Okay this song makes me cry every damn time. I couldn't get the video but YouTube it sometime.)
Okay so unless you've been living under a rock for your entire life you've seen the Grinch, right? That animated version? The one on every channel ten times every December?
Well remember that part where he envisions Christmas? And they play their instruments and sing and eat roast beast and whatnot? Where he holds his hands over his head. "Oh, the noise, noise, noise!" And then he stops, the idea slowly coming to him. "I must stop Christmas from coming!"
Well that's what its like finding out your sexuality in a gay bar. There's music, and drinks, and Hell I did this all last chapter go read that again. But then it all stops.
Oh, right. Time didn't slow, I didn't grow superpowers, nothing big happened. Well, its in the eye of the beholder if its big, but still.
It was like being trapped in my own head. I could've stood there until last call, or maybe no time whatsoever. Have you ever had your own mind betray you?
Okay, I sound like a drama queen. I know. But I had never imagined me as someone I used to hate. Maybe God was sticking his middle finger at me.
Or maybe he was throwing dragons at me.
Either way, I mumbled a goodbye to Jack and Gwen, who were far to intimate (and a tiny bit drunk) to notice, grabbed Alex by the ear, and dragged them to the car.
"Well that was brief. What happened to you?"
"None of your damn business." I slammed the door behind me.
"Shit dude!" They held her hands up in surrender. "Pick up the pieces of my car!"
"Shut up!" I hit my hand on the dashboard. "Would you just shut up?"
My breathing grew ragged, my eyes blurry, and my voice uneven. I hated this. The weakness.
There are two types of anger: dry anger and wet anger. Dry anger is when you're yelling and throwing things and wet anger is when you're crying and your throat aches because you're trying to yell but your voice is uneven because you're crying. Dry anger means you're in too deep and wet anger means you're done.
I had wet anger. I didn't care. I wanted to be back with Bianca and Patrick and Abby and God please, please, stop making me deal with life. Life is too much for me. That's why I ended it. But you sent me back here.
At least in Hell people recognize you're being tortured.
Well... Damn. This could be the most depressing thing I've ever written.
But that's humans. On some fundamental level we either idolize them as gods or dismiss them as animals.
Okay. I'm gonna have a good cry. (BUT MARGO ROTH SPIEGELMAN)
