From Thoughts to Paper

Entry 44

She sleeps alone
My heart wants to come home
I wish I was, I wish I was
Beside you

She lies awake
Trying to find the words to say
I wish I was, I wish I was
Beside you

Those are song lyrics. They're trapped inside my head. Bouncing around my thoughts trying to escape. They're quite good lyrics though. I feel like this is me. I am the girl in the first part of both verses. And I am telling someone, anyone, that I was beside them and. It in complete, mental isolation.

Do parents forget the stress of school one they have kids, or do they hope things have a changed in the 20-30 years between them and they're kids?

My dad was just now telling me of my grades. And when I talk with my parents about my grades the weight of the world drops on my shoulders. I slump over more than aver now, and it's not just because I have short friends. The stress is physically impacting my body.

I'm trying to write away the stress, but it's not working. It usually works, but not tonight. Nothing's going my way tonight. Nothing's gone my way in a long time.

I thought I was getting better. My thoughts were getting happier. But now I feel like I'm drowning again. And this time I don't know if I'm going to reach the surface.

For the past two hours, I've been unable to breath. I just want to get out of here. I want to be alone with a book, isolated from human civilization.

No one here understands me. They think they do because I don't give them much data about me to analyze. To them I am just a face at school who is smart and weird and athletic. You'd think they'd know by know that there are multiple different layers to every single person. It's why I try not to judge people. There is something more to them than what I see, and I know that.

I think I'm going to write another letter. I'm sure that I've talked about them way too much. I hope you remember what they are. I'm sure that I've talked about them way too much, but I can't help what going through my mind at any given time.

I'm–what's that word again? Stuttering–no, stu–no...stalling! That's it! I'm stalling so that I can begin the letter on a brand new sheet of paper.

I don't know what else to say. I'm all out of spare thoughts besides the new letter that I have to write down before I forget what to write.

Come on! Just two more lines until someone else gets to see a new layer to my being. We're almost there. I won't tell you who I'm writing to unless you already know who it is. Yes! I'm finally there!

(Letter in book Letters Made of Courage)