Love Always: A Novel Inspired by The Perks of Being a Wallflower

Part 4

March 20, 2013

This is a weird day. I forgot that I turned on my home sharing and now everyone at school can listen to my iTunes. They are. All of the cool people are now asking me to make them CDs of my library. I don’t really know how to answer. I usually only make CDs for my friends. Even worse, this just proves that they suddenly care that I’m alive. It also means that although they used to call my music weird and they judged me for always wearing headphones, they now want me to give them my music. I don’t want to give you my music. What makes you deserve it? They keep complimenting my music now and all I can muster is a nervous thank you. I don’t see why they suddenly like my stuff. Maybe they should’ve been nice to me, then I could have told them more about it.  I could’ve given them CDs for Christmas like I did for all my other friends. But they aren’t my friends and they never will be. When I run into the gym, late from track and ask you if track is still running, you shouldn’t answer yes if it isn’t true, especially if there is a raging thunderstorm outside. I don’t think that is what friends do so I’m not going to give you my music. When I come running back inside, shaking from my fear of thunder, you shouldn’t laugh at me. You should say you were sorry. These girls didn’t. So, they aren’t getting a CD. They aren’t getting anything. If I was going to give them something I would give them the finger because I don’t befriend bitches. Sorry, but its true. They were too late. I know what friends are now. Had they spoken to me at the beginning of the year last year, I’d have thought they were nice. No, they didn’t even want to smile at me. They wanted to watch me mess up in chapel because I’d never been to church and didn’t know what I was doing. They wanted to smirk at me like I was stupid for not understanding some modern words. I’m sorry that I don’t know what “swag” means among other things. I prefer older words. I’m sorry that I would rather study Einstein’s relativity theory than go to a party. I’m sorry that I’d rather read than kiss a boy behind the stairs. I’d never seen those things before, so I’m sorry that I disappointed you. That doesn’t mean you have the right to finally realize that I’m an amazing person and try to be nice to me. You’ve proved you don’t really care. You just want free music. You aren’t going to get it. 

Love Always,

Quinn

March 20, 2013

Second time I’m writing today. Well, today was overall terrible. It wasn’t so bad that Jordyn couldn’t cheer me up a bit, but it was awful. Firstly, my mother was yelling at me again this morning for my time in the track meet yesterday not being good enough for her. Then, I almost arrived at school late BECAUSE she was yelling at me. I realized a little while later that I forgot to finish my math homework and my Spanish homework. In gym, I noticed that I had forgotten my shoes. That was horrid because I had track later on. I had play practice and King Triton didn’t know his lines. I was almost late for track and had to sprint to the bus so I wouldn’t have to run with middle distance or the sprinters. While I was running, in the woods might I add, I tripped several times because I had to borrow shoes from Danielle and her feet are WAY bigger than mine. Now I’m sitting in the car with my father and his friend watching my sister practice soccer. Father promised he’d take me to get my new running shoes today. Maybe that’ll cheer me up because there is a smoothie place next door and my stomach is eating itself. Therefore, he will probably take me to get a smoothie. That place has the most amazing lemonade smoothies. I know that sounds weird but I REALLY like lemons. Its like my favorite fruit. I can eat them like oranges, I don’t even pucker. Until then though, I’ll just sit in my car listening to my stomach growl, trying to drown out my father’s soccer talk, and blast Erin McCarley’s What I Needed and All the Lonely people by The Beatles. The stories in those songs don’t really fit together but I like them anyway. I’ll listen to Boston too. I don’t know why but I always listen to that song twice a day. Its part of my routine. I always feel like myself when I listen to that. “You don’t know me and you don’t wear my chains.” People don’t know me either. I understand. Its one of my favorite songs because its so real. It speaks so much truth. No one really ever knows anyone. It doesn’t matter how many stories you swap or secrets you share. You will never know what they felt or what they think. You won’t ever know what they’ve been through, at least not how they saw it. You only know what happens on the outside. You never know someone unless you are them. I am the only person that will ever know me. Danielle is the only person that will ever know Danielle. Jordyn is the only person that will ever know Jordyn. It goes on like that. My mother the other day said, “Quinn I am your mother! I know what you know! I know you and I know when you aren’t trying!” I laughed a little but she kept yelling. I tuned her out. She really thought she knew me. I only responded with, “Mother, if you really knew me you’d know that being yelled at does nothing for me now. It only makes me think more and act less. If you want me to be you, you’re failing. I’m not you. I’m just Quinn, thats all. Quinn is trying, you just don’t see it because you think you are better. Maybe Quinn isn’t.” My mother just shot me a bewildered look and stomped off. Later on the fight resumed though. I don’t think she got my message. Maybe someday she will. I hope she does. I don’t really know what I’ve done to deserve this. My mother told me she had a bad childhood. I just the younger her broke someday and accepted it. I won’t accept it, I will never accept that she treats me that way. By not giving in, I’m not becoming her. I will never be my mother. I will treat my kids the way I wasn’t treated. I’ll congratulate them when they do something I could never do. I’ll help them with their homework and teach them how to draw and sing and they will be happier than I ever was. If I’m mad, I won’t run into their room screaming. If I hear they are being picked on I will defend them. I won’t call them wimps when they cry. I’ll hug them because I think that is much more effective to help stop the tears. I’ve never really thought this much about my future but I know what I want for them. I want them to know they are loved and to always feel that way. I don’t want them to wish they could escape or die like I so often do. I want them to be heard and to do amazing things not because I would hurt them if they didn’t. I want them to always be themselves and stand up for themselves and everyone else. My kids will be happy and loved. They will be loved by everyone. My kids will never have to meet my mother. I won’t let them. I don’t want her to take out all of her pain on them. My mother is a stressful woman. I’ve seen photographs where she looks truly happy, with sparkles in her eyes. She doesn’t have that anymore. I think my mother was a good woman once and I can remember a time when she truly loved me. She used to play dress up with me and tell me I was a princess. That ended. My kids will always feel that way. They will never come home crying. If they do I will make sure it never happens again. I will be better than my parents and I’ll never give in to them. I know that for a fact.