A Week With Andrea

Chapter 10

              I cry a lot. Call me a fucking crybaby, cause it's true. And somehow Melanie Martinez's song is so damn accurate to what I am. A fucking crybaby that's what.

        That day, I cried. We were up on the rooftop at around 3 pm or 4? I brought the electric guitar with me and she played it most of the time, simply because she knew more songs than I did. I've given up playing long ago, I just never told her. Anyways, she played the song "My Heart" by Paramore and it was indeed a lovely song. No scratch that, it's a fucking legend ( according to her ). And as strange as it may sound, I imagined Hayley singing it right in front of me due to the echoes in the empty hall as the music played. Almost as if she was here.

          Then as the music played on, my mind somehow drifted to some place else. I tend to do it a lot f you haven't noticed yet.

    I started to think of my life and how it was going. Was I okay with leaving? Did I still want ot leave? St. Scho was depresssing. Living alone is depressing and somehow somewhere out there something could change me and I'm hoping it would come right now and take me. But all I could ever see in what would happen to me sooner o later is leave. Leave everything behind. Sure, i wanted a fresh start. It was always nice to begin again. But leaving everything behind for the sake of my own selfish way of finding out who I really am and what I'll be, it's all too much. I can't leave memories from st. Scho no matter how shitty everything was back then. I couldn't leave the memories of people treating me like shit. I couldn't leave, that's all.

I cried. It wasn't all at once. It started out slow. A single hot tear flowed against my cheek. I tried to hide it by looking away but she noticed it quickly when I sniffed. I wanted to cry so I did. I should let go once in awhile. And maybe it won't be so bad doing it in front of someone. I trust her anyway.

"I'm sorry, I left my handkerchief downstairs."

       And with those simple words leaving your mouth, you somehow made everything better. She had no idea how with those words she had made everything less terrible than it actually was. Most of the time when I cry, people tend to "not make me feel better". If I cry in front of a friend, they'd say "hey don't cry, it's okay."

Reality check. Things aren't gonna be okay so why make it worse and lie?

If I cry in front of my mom, sister or brother they'd all think it was fake or I was just trying to stir up drama and yeah sometimes it is fake. But most of the time I genuinely cry my eyes out til it's red. Instead of making me feel better they make it worse. They call me things beyond my comprehension, scrutinize my every move and wait for me to fail, hurt me physically and as if it wasn't enough my mom would tell me

"You aren't my daughter."

I was really (really) affected whenever she said that. It would make me think of running away but then again who would I run to? My friends? Their mom's would just see me as a burden. My relatives? They wont take me in, I never made any contact with them. My dad? He has his own family to care about. So I learned to live with it. It still troubles me every now and then whenever she says it but I took it as an insult that wasn't new to me. I've accepted it. I'm not her daughter.

[ So andrea, while reading this, I'd like to thank you. For actually making me feel better. You never knew this cause I never told you but now, I'm hoping you'd read about it soon. a/n ]

        I wiped the tears away and just sat there staring at the deck that was being repaired. She started to fix the guitar and everything else and We went downstairs for a smoke.

        "I'm sorry, I left my handkerchief downstairs."

Somehow, I realized, you were different from everyone else.

I commend you for that.