wish i were ⇾ p.c

14- how to never stop being sad

"You don't need other people to drive away your loneliness
You just needed to find a way to talk to it."
-dandelion hands

I stayed home the next day. Somehow I'd convinced Randy I actually was feeling sick today, and that it wasn't just an excuse for me to skip again.

Maybe it was more believable because of the fact that I looked absolutely horrible.

All last night, I didn't get not a second of sleep. I stayed awake all night. That was night two of no sleep, marking 48 hours of me being awake. It didn't feel too bad at first, but then it hit me like a ton of bricks.

My eyes were red rimmed and puffy from all the crying I'd been doing. They were also outlined with black and blue eye bags underneath, but they weren't so noticeable yet. Just enough to make me look like I had a cold or something, but not that I hadn't slept in days.

When Randy left, I just stayed in my room all day. I didn't do anything. I played some guitar, because it usually helps me when I'm sad. But it didn't work.

Besides, I couldn't really describe what I was feeling right now as sad. Sad is barely enough o describe the immense pain that I was in. It was like I was suffocating in hurt. In pain. I wasn't myself. I didn't feel like myself.

I didn't deserve what happened to me. Maybe I deserved a lot of things that happen to me because I am not the best person and I am mean sometimes and I break my moms rules. And I don't think before I act and set myself up for some shitty situations. But my lack of judgment had nothing to do with yesterday. Nothing that I did could've led to that. I didn't deserve that. No one does. That's not something that anyone should have to deal with, ever.

Why me? Oh God, why me?

I sank down to the ground and started sobbing again. I felt horrible. I hated Bob. I hate him. I hate him so much. And I don't care that hate is a strong word, it's a word that should be used toward my thoughts to him. That's how hurt I felt. I wouldn't wish this on anyone.

I don't know how I could avoid telling anyone about this. The only way would be to push everyone away and cut them all off. The thought just made the empty pit in my stomach grow an inch deeper.

I'd been alone far too long since winter break. I spent too much time by myself, more than I probably ever have in my entire life. I've always been a very social person, and used to get very little amounts of time where I had no company.

I thought about winter break, and how horrible I felt on the days that Ponyboy was with Cherry and Randy was with his friends and the gang were busy. How lonely I was. And now it's gonna be like that, only a thousand times worse, because I physically can't talk to anyone. Not even my own mother. I couldn't.

I'd stay home from school again tomorrow. Continue to play the sick card. Then I'd stay home the rest of the weekend in my room, all alone. I'm not sure how my plan to ignore everyone will go come Monday morning, when I have to go to school again, but I guess we'll cross that bridge when we get there.

The next morning, Friday, my mom and Josh got back home from their work trip. Randy was already off at school, and I was laying in my bed writing some songs in the book Dally got me for a Christmas, with a lit up cigarette in my other hand.

At first when I heard the door open, I ignored it. But then I realized they'd probably want to come in my room to check on me.

I had burn holes all in the sleeves of my sweatshirt from all the cigarettes. There were also tons of burned out ones on the floor. I quickly picked them up and ran to my closet so I could shove them in an empty drawer of my dresser. I took off the hoodie and stuffed it in there as well. I slipped on a tank top to replace it and dashed back in to my room where I grabbed my lighter and lit the candles on my nightstand. It would hide the smell and also give me an excuse as to why there was a lighter even in my room.