Paperboy. (h.s. au)

38.

I stayed in that moment for as long as I could. I sat on the presence of my mother and brother, warm feelings inside and out. There moments are rare, and so so nice to have.

As much time that I spend alone, I really do love my family. It's just hard to be around people sometimes, no matter how close you are with them. They give me a feeling of solidity that I haven't found in many other people. My family won't leave me, they'll always be here, and I know that they love me. Even if sometimes it seems like they don't.

I like to really feel my positive thoughts when I think them, because it gives me a chance to remember that things can be good again when I feel them going bad. I try to write them down sometimes, but I feel that if I do, they'll leave me and stay on the pages that I never read. I can't read what I write because it's almost always depressing. So to avoid reading what I write, I try not to write at all. I never had a way with words anyway.

Now there's the paperboy to worry about.

I said what I said and I can't take it back, but I didn't really mean to hurt his feelings, to whatever degree. What I say when I'm in-the-midst- is strictly and absolutely to be disregarded. But not everyone knows that. I know it's frustrating, believe me. But I can't control my own mind, much less what comes out of my mouth. I can only imagine what it must be like to hear these things as a newcomer in my life.

I hate this part the most. The apologizing, the making excuses for my sickness. It's not you, it's me. No, wait, it's my mind. No, wait...

The hardest part about apologizing for something you didn't mean to do is not really knowing how to say it and what to apologize for.

My mom gets it, David is getting there, my dad isn't around enough to really experience it. But Harry doesn't get it, unfortunately. I hate explaining these things to people. It's not like I haven't told him already. He's just never seen me in action like last night. It's easy to be around someone who's in bad shape when the bad-ness isn't up front and in your face. What's not easy is dealing with it.

So, I'm sure he's frustrated. He's trying and he thinks I'm trying(which I am), but nothing has really worked. I am fully prepared for him to walk out and far away from me and my issues. Who needs that, right? Nobody.

But alas, I've got to talk to him. If we'd just been a little less close, I'd probably let him go. I'd let him leave, and I'd be okay with it. But since we are close, it hurts a little to think about him going now. I hate becoming attached. It makes it so much harder on me when people leave(which they inevitably do-time after time after time...).

My positive feeling slowly fades like a burning out light bulb and I try to act fast. I change into something a little less "homeless" and rush downstairs. I brush past my mom and tell her "I'm going to apologize, be back in a bit." She bids me farewell and good luck as I grab my keys and head to Harry's.

On my drive I take in my surroundings, becoming aware and observing. The neighbors have planted new flowers. I wonder if anyone has told them how nice they look. I see a stray cat, and I hope it finds its way to or back to a home. I focus on the road, still (not so)slightly paranoid. At a stop light, I take a deep breath.

I'm feeling a little careless, I haven't even thought about what to tell Harry. What's there to tell? My disease yelled at you last night, not me. Sorry? What's even the point, anyway? I should just-

Beeep!

A car horn sounds behind me and I hurriedly look up at the green light in front of me. I mutter to myself and lightly step on the gas pedal.

I finally see Harry's building come into view and I suddenly begin to sweat a little. What if he's not home? What if he sees its me and slams the door? I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to push these thoughts away. I pull into the lot and park the car, shutting it off.