Imagine

Chapter III

June 16th, 2015

I just came back from my first hot date. Except it wasn't as hot as it was embarrassing. After spending 3 hours in the hospital between waiting, trying to explain what had happened to the doctor without being able to pronounce half the letters in the alphabet and coming out to find my date asleep in one of the waiting room chairs, I think it's safe to say I am exhausted.

I have spent nearly every night since I was 13 years old writing something in my journal. Not because my life is exciting or filled with activities and interesting facts but because in writing, I have found a place to let my true genuine feelings out without having to deal with a reaction or judgment. It's just me, my pen and my journal free falling. No mom to lecture me, no dad to get awkward and uncomfortable whenever I touch a subject that's too "personal", no friend to tell me I am overreacting. Just me and my thoughts, feelings and frustrations straight from the heart.
Although today was a disaster that I had (nearly) no control over, tonight will be no different. That is why I am here in my bed, writing. Writing even if I feel utterly embarrassed, writing maybe because I can't completely pronounce half the letters in the alphabet, but writing indeed.

Michael left the hospital a few minutes after I was done with the doctor.  I think he could tell how grateful I was that he had stayed as long as he could, for such a strange cause. I kept apologizing for the situation and he kept saying "it's okay" , but I knew it wasn't. I knew I had made a completely fool out of myself and even though I know that there are much bigger problems in this world, I just wanted this date to go right.

I can get extremely grumpy and shady when terribly wrong. Especially towards my mother- actually exclusively and solely towards my mother. Don't get me wrong, I love her to pieces. Despite our different personalities and perspectives, I look forward to seeing her everyday but sometimes, I feel like I try to be the best version of myself with everybody, but somehow I let out all the negative stuff when I am with my mom. Maybe it's because I know she can take it or maybe because I know that at the end of the day, she will still love me just as I am. I don't have to pretend to be anything around my mother, and that fact is a tranquilizer and a horror movie at the same time.

When I come to think about it, that's exactly the kind of quality I want to find in a man. NOT a man that reminds me or looks like my mother, that's just weird. Someone who loves me for who I am and the traits that I have, whether they are negative or positive. Someone that doesn't care if I roll out of bed looking like the Grinch and all I do is whine until breakfast time. Someone that is there for me even when I eat ten thousand peanuts and lose the ability to communicate and can no longer feel my face or tongue anymore. A man that loves me genuinely, truthfully and helplessly. The more I think about it, the sadder I get thinking about the fact that I'm probably miles and miles away from that place.

But I can still dream about it.

If I have learned anything today, is that there is nothing a human being can do to stop what is meant to happen in their life. You can try to wear all the right clothes, say all the right words and go to all the right places but if it's not meant to be, it's just not meant to be. We just have to be strong enough to understand that and don't drown ourselves in the regret and sadness.

Yup, that's right. That's the lesson I learned from an allergic reaction and losing the ability to talk like an adult.