Reaching Infinity

June 22, 2013

The trip with my friends went well. I also just got back from Florida. No, I was NOT visiting Jordyn, though I wish I had been. The trip was awful. My group was made up of my mother, father, sister, grandmother, grandfather, aunt, uncle, and 4 year old cousin. My cousin REALLY likes my sister. I would say that she’s like everyone else, taken in by my little sister’s charm and humor. Everyone knows they’re closer than I’ll ever be with that little kid. Everyone paid attention to them most of the time. So, I kind of sat at home and read. Sometimes I read on the beach, sometimes at the pool. I read in the car, at meals, all kind of things. That didn’t make me happy though because I was an outsider again. I didn’t have a friend left to talk to. I hated watching my uncle buy my sister gifts for playing with my cousin and my grandmother tell her that she would be a great sister. The latter stung the worst because she is a sister. She is MY sister. It was like they forgot all about me. So, I put down my book and rode to the record store. I talked to the people that were working there. They listened to me and we talked about bands and vinyl and old movies. I bought a few movie posters that I thought were cool. When I left the record store, I felt happy again. I had friends. So, I kept going back there. Each time, I bought a new poster just as an excuse to visit. Every time I came home, my mother would tell me about how lame my posters were and that I should stop going to the record store because people would think I was weird. I still went. I would sit and talk to my friends for an hour or so, then I’d go for icecream downstairs. I bought raspberry cheesecake icecream every time. I wonder if my friends miss me. I miss them. I’m out of people to talk to and left with my family again. I’m getting by though because at one point, I got so lonely that I went out and bought a turtle. I begged my parents first. I’m sitting next to her tank right now. She’s sleeping. I’ve told her everything. I just wish I could talk to someone that would respond. I know you would if you could. Fact is, right now I’m in a mortal world without my infinity. Its horrible. Waverly is away at camp, doing important stuff. Charlotte is in London. I haven’t heard from Caroline and Danielle in quite some time and Jordyn is traveling all the time and I don’t want to bother him. I haven’t even talked to Faun. I’ve not talked to you either in a little while. I guess I just didn’t think about it. I wish I did think about it. 

My thoughts haven’t been clear lately. I’m seeing things again and they aren’t good things. They’re scaring me but I don’t have anyone to tell. I would tell you but I feel like you’d call the police on me. I don’t want to see these things anymore. I want to be able to look at things normally. I want to see people but not who they are. Do you know that feeling? You make eye contact with someone and you see into them? I do. I see the pain and suffering standing by the happy and rich and I hate it. I want to see them mixed but I can’t see that. All I see is hate for the happy person because they are so drowned in their yellow that they can’t see the gray. Right now, I’m not even gray. I’m black. I need someone to be here and listen. The things that helped me before aren’t open to me. I can’t hear Waverly’s sage advice or Charlotte’s reassuring words. Danielle isn’t here to plot the death of whoever hurt me this time and Jordyn won’t be there to hug me and tell me to stop lying about being ok. All the time though, I feel selfish for wishing they were here. They’re happy. I shouldn’t stifle that happiness because I’m sad. So, I just sit here, talking to a turtle, listening to the rest of my family watch a movie together downstairs. They don’t even notice that I’m gone. Its like I’m invisible again. All of that time when people started to notice me and care, it was nothing. It was an illusion to make me feel like things were actually looking up. It was the moonlight in the darkness. You think its bright but it isn’t. Its still dark underneath. Stone with gold paint. That is why I am laying in bed, hugging a stuffed dog, and staring at a Star Wars poster while my turtle falls asleep. I can’t sleep. Ever. Not anymore. I try but I can’t. So, I preoccupy myself. I draw, I paint, I watch turtles, I think about Batman and Star Wars and other movies I’ve seen. Sometimes I’ll read or cry about Gatsby or even write a poem or two in my journal that no one is allowed to see. Thats what I did last night. I wrote poetry until my hand went numb. I filled up many pages in that little, black leather book. Only black ink on the yellowish pages where I spilled a cup of tea. 

I remember when I used to make tea for people. When I heard that they didn’t really drink hot tea in South Carolina, I organized a tea party. Everyone loved it so I started making it for people in the mornings. I bought styrofoam travel cups and everything. The best part was that it was free. I miss doing that sometimes. It just reminds me of some people that I made tea for that I’d rather forget. I used to make tea for that boy. The one my friend left me for, the one I try so hard to forget. I imagine him as being dead. He will never be able to get to me again that way. The horrible thing that happened that one day died with him. I don’t even want to talk about death day. I call it death day because that day, I truly felt dead inside. I wasn’t me and I felt like I was being controlled by someone else. That someone wanted the boy... I can’t even talk about it. It was dreadful and I don’t remember half of it. I wan’t to understand though, I want to know why I did what I did. I need an answer. So, that explains the photographs on my floor. I’m looking for my answers in pictures. Some people believe that pictures capture the soul. I’m hoping they’re right and I’ll see something in myself in the few pictures I have where we were near. 

Love Always,

Quinn