The binding on this thing is coming undone.
Kay likes this idea for some reason. God knows why, because I think it won't work. Either I'm being pessimistic, or Kay's being optimistic.
The whole point of this thing is so we can understand each other more (that is, if you really care about my life), so I guess I should explain why I've deemed myself broken.
It all started two years ago. I was starting my third year of Hogwarts. Standing in line for my first day, I saw a group of what I assumed to be eighth grade boys chatting. I really didn't want to talk to them- what if they were jerks?- so I kept my distance.
When it came time to be sorted into houses, I chose to stay in Ravenclaw. I wasn't the only one; one of the boys I had seen earlier stayed, too.
He introduced himself as Gabe. The two of us hit it off. Gabe was really nice. We agreed to aim for Head Boy and Head Girl. (I kept my side of the deal; he didn't.)
I'm going to be blunt here. I started really, really liking him.
There, I admitted it.
I was going to establish a means of communication sometime during the last week.
He wasn't there during the last week.
At all.
I haven't seen him since.
They say you don't understand what you have until you lose it. I understood what I had, but I didn't understand that I could lose it. I had faith for a year afterward that I would see him again at Hogwarts. I was devastated when I realized that was a false hope.
If the one I trusted most left me, what keeping everyone else in my life from walking away?
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By this point, I think I have more insight into love and loss than I should. I've loved in a friends way. I've given puppy love to a boy (who broke me). I love my pets more than anything.
I fell in love with all of my pets at first sight.
I've lost everything once in a while. Gabe is the biggest and most obvious loss. He took away trust and happiness while bringing pain. He didn't bring physical pain. I'm used to that kind of pain because I get injured a lot. Emotional pain is a lot harder to deal with. It's like drowning, only not in water, in sorrows. I lost my uncle, and then a month or two later, I lost my grandma to the same disease. I never was close to my uncle, so the pain was numbed. I had my cousins to cry with because he was their uncle too.
I was always close to Grandma. She was nice to me. She always had a bowl of candy at her house that was a help-yourself feature. She bought pizza when we visited. She had puzzles to work on. We visited a lot, too, because she was in town.
Last summer, Grandma got sick. It was the Wednesday when I had band camp that she was taken to the hospital. My other grandma took me to band camp that day. We went to the hospital afterwards to visit her. She looked pale and weak, but she didn't look like she was going to die.
On Thursday, we went after band camp to visit her again. She didn't look much worse.
On Friday, Mom and Dad left before I woke up to visit Grandma. (Sorry, that was kind of a hanging clause.) I went to summer school as normal. When my mom came to pick me up, I didn't notice anything at first. Mom let me tell her about my day.
Then she told me Grandma died in the morning. She'd never woken up from her surgery.
I cried for the rest of the day. For God
knows what reason, I realized how much I cared about you sometime that day.
So yeah. Like I said, my life is far from perfect. I'm messed up inside. Around then, it started getting much worse. To let it out, I wrote this really long letter. I ripped the letter up and threw it out so nobody would realize how bad it'd gotten to be.
Since then, my deep sadness has gotten to the point where I keep a "dark" journal to let my feelings out.
There, I opened up. Don't tell anyone any of that. Chris and Kay are the two people who I'd be willing to trust with that prior to now.
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You know how I want to be a veterinarian?
That still hasn't changed.
What's changed is I want to be more
I want to write. Heck, I was reading about how to write just a minute ago. I have to create something. I've tried original songs. I've tried arranging songs. I've tried artwork. None of them have worked, so I'm going with writing.
I do tend to have an over-active imagination. That day you left school after saying earlier your eyes hurt? I spent the whole recess researching deadly diseases with sore eyes as a symptom. (Don't worry, I couldn't find any.) There's my amazing assumption on the days you disappear that you have cancer. Heck, if my assumptions were all right, you'd have died ten times by now. I also developed a fear of the dark after imagining that a dark blob was coming out of this head (made for hair styling) in my room, and I could swear I saw ghosts accumulating near my window and making shapes on the wall. (By the way, the dark blob coming out of the head was going into my heart. I had Mom hide that head for years afterward.) I have a fear of bugs (not just bees anymore) because I had a dream that caterpillars were entering my body through my toes. Sometimes, my dreams are so real I have difficulty distinguishing between what's real and what's not.
Problem is, I have too many ideas so I have difficulty settling on one idea.
Writing isn't the only thing I don't want to lose. I will always play drums and piano.
In other words, I have too many dreams.
