Before You Say Goodbye

56

Dear Diary,

Nana says I should write in you every day, to, you know, document my year and all that. You were given to me as a late birthday gift and while I appreciate the gesture, writing in you seems like such an invasion of my privacy – I mean, what if someone decided to open you and read my life? Do you see why I had been so hesitant to write anything in you? Now that more than two months have passed since I started writing in you, I think I'm beginning to get comfortable with you. To hell with people who decide they want to read you, they cannot get their hands on you anyway – I'll hide you well, I promise.

So back to what I wanted to write today: As you already know, for the first time in so many years, I spent the summer with my grandparents in the city. I spent every day, every waking minute pretending I was fine, that everything was fine, trying to make people believe that I was indeed all right. That was all I could do to stop nana from calling her therapist to key in an appointment for me.

That day when Roman and I broke up, I came back to Terry's place and spent the next half hour crying myself dry of tears. When I insisted not wanting to spend the night at Terry's, Joaquin had dropped me home tear-stained and exhausted. He had been so mad that I had taken Quinn and Terry's advice and went over to Roman's. And while he didn't say I told you so, I know a part of him wanted to say that. He knew something would hurt me if I visited Roman and tried to talk to him – he knew I wasn't ready to go talk to him yet, and so did I – yet I did go because I gave in to peer pressure. Joaquin always knew too much, sometimes more than I could ever know. He knew what would make me happy, he knew what would make me sad, he knew what would make me mad – and he also knew my breakup with Roman hurt me more than he could understand.

Mom had taken one look at me and had figured out something went horribly wrong in her foolproof plan of "Why don't you ask them?" Joaquin, bless his heart, had carried me up the stairs and gently tucked me in my bed. The next morning, when mom sat Alan and me in the living room, talked to us about how we have all been through so much over the past year and needed a change and a chance just to breathe, I knew I did not want to go to therapy. I honestly believed that was what she was going to say. So imagine my surprise when she suggested that we both needed a change of scenery and asked if we wanted to spend the summer with our grandparents in the city. I had jumped at her suggestion – like literally – and booked bus tickets for my brother and me to the city that same night.

Sophia, Chad, Roman, Piper have all let me down in one way or the other. While I didn't care one bit about Chad, it was the other people's actions that had hurt me. Piper had been the worst example of how a friend should be, she had kept things from me. The same way Roman and Sophia had.

Roman's words from the day we broke up kept repeating themselves inside my head. While I knew his words only came from a place of anger and that I wasn't reliant on Terry in any way as he had said, I couldn't help but wonder who I will be as a person without Terrance Ruiz. It made me question so many things in my life.

In addition to all that, Gretburg had also become a little too unbearable the last few months. The residents had taken my polite nature as a welcome ticket to directly stop me in the middle of the road and question me about my relationship with Roman when we were still together – How are you coping up? I hope you get out of this phase soon and leave that boy. Have you been praying? Maybe you should go to church. Is it true that the boy got arrested for hitting you? Were you arrested too? Where does your boyfriend get his weed from? Was the boy the reason Sophia committed suicide? – These were only a few questions I was asked in the last couple of months. Not only were they absurd, but some of their questions were also downright cruel.