dear november

11.9.14

Dear November, 

Not much happened today. Nothing interesting, at least. 

November, I'm scared. I'm scared of lapsing back into something terrible, something I hate. I was so frustrated with myself today when I was practicing, because as hard as I tried, I couldn't get the high notes on my French horn to sound right. They came out tight and strained, but I couldn't stop, because I practiced and I wanted to improve. Sometimes, sheer will isn't enough. 

My god, I was thinking of my sister. Now I remembered that you have eleven other siblings trying to dominate, and god, that must be hell. But in the fun, it's fantastic, right? Unless you get left out. My sister is almost six years older than me, but sometimes I think she relishes in winning petty arguments against me. It's passive aggressive as hell, and condescending. I made conversation of weighing myself in the science room after studying mass, and then she made a point of saying she was lighter than me. You don't have to deal with that, do you? I didn't care until she rubbed it in. When I said I was scared, I meant I am scared of caring about the things I have tried to hard to be nonchalant about. Weight. Appearance. Liking people. It's silly to be anything but open about it, to not love your body as it is the only one you have. I'm thinking, as a kid, I spent so much time hating myself on my weight, my hair, my everything. I hated myself for hating myself. 

Can you see, I don't want to go back there. Not when I dislike it when girls are self-conscious, when they're doing what I was doing. I guess what I was doing five years ago, people my age are doing now. It's lonely, and sometimes I'm sure I'm narcissistic. 

God. I went to church today, and I'm swearing his name. I suppose you would capitalize that 'h', huh. Well. I don't want the things I say written in red ink. I'm no God. But sometimes I act like I am. 

Sincerely, Esther