After fun, there's this low. You know what I'm talking about, right? After something with friends, and everyone's laughing, and having a good time, and then all of a sudden, you're home alone, parents out, cell phones off, no one to talk to, nobody to stave off the complete and utter loneliness.
And there's one person that I didn't want to be without. I thought I would be okay this weekend. I deluded myself into thinking that it was getting better, not worse. I told myself that this weekend was going to be fine, and I wouldn't miss him at all. Then I missed the after school talking bit. And I pretty much crumbled.
Being around people made me less depressed. But everything I did was to impress him, even though he wasn't there. I was constantly looking around for him, hoping to see him, when I knew he wasn't there.
When I walked into my empty home, the last thing I wanted to do was to be alone with myself.
I didn't want to feel this hopeless pain, a feeling that never quite goes away. I wanted distraction, something to make me forget, even if just for a moment.
I turned around, and left again.
I wanted to go somewhere near a road, in case he drove by, I wanted to be in the light, so he could see me. I wanted to be somewhere where he could join me.
I chose to sit at the very top of the slide at the elementary school playground. I faced the road, turned on the creepiest music I owned, and waited for someone, who was not going to come.
A man and his dog came to see me, and tried to get me to come down, but I pretended I couldn't hear them. I turned my music up loud, and texted, trying to enjoy the feeling of adrenaline that the night air and the scary music, and the possible danger of a man who most likely thought I was suicidal.
The man left, and I was alone, again, with the ache, and the sadness, and the cold.
If it wasn't so damn cold, I'd probably be there right now.
I stood to leave, and then it happened again. But better.
It was a van. His van.
Right model, right color, right license plate.
It was him.
Again, my body responded before my mind did, and I broke into a run, trying to follow. I realized as I grabbed my cell phone, as to keep it from falling, like it did the time before, just how pathetic I was.
I followed him to a four way stop, and lost him again. The same four way stop that I lost the other van before.
Red lights blinked in the distance, and my feet started to walk after them, but I stopped myself. The streets were black, with slight orange glow every couple blocks. If I followed, I would be in the dark most of the time.
I was so empty, desperate shards of hope all I had.
I thought about the three days I had before me, stretched long with wasted time and being alone.
I thought about following the van down the road, into the unknown blackness, at nearly ten at night.
I wondered what would happen if I managed to follow him, stalking him to his house, watching him leave his car, enter into the building. I'd probably wait a moment, to see if he would come out again, knowing that he wouldn't. I'd memorize his address, and probably go there every day, all weekend.
I wondered what would happen if I went home, sinking into my black hole. I pictured sitting down at my computer, trying to cheer myself up with happy music, and pretending to be a complete person.
I chose to go home, because of the dark. I told myself, as a proper mother should, that it was too dark to chase after ghosts. That it was late, and I needed to get myself in a warm place.
And so I followed my own advice, and went home unwillingly, wishing I had chosen the other option the whole way home.
The cold and the dark didn't raise my adrenaline anymore. I was completely empty, no high from the night could help.
I made it home alive, if that's what you're wondering. I ran the last bit home, and checked my e-mail to see if he sent anything (He never has).
I'm so screwed up.
Another three days until I can be at school again, another weekend down the drain. Another week of hopes, and disappointment. Then another weekend of complete depression.
When I was so depressed last friday, I felt like life was coming to an end. I changed my facebook status to say I was having a mid life crisis. That's what it felt like.
High school is my life. And it is almost ending, killing me. He is my life, and soon I will never see him again.
Yesterday, over facebook, he said to me "LOL at your status".
It was about him.
He asked me if I was planning on dying at 30. And I can't even imagine living at thirty.
His status was saying he had gotten into the university of his choice.
His life is moving onward. Mine is hanging by a thread.
Three days. And then everything resumes.
Crappp quality. Because I stole it via e-mail, from my daddy. I have a few more, but they're similar to everyone elses. So, I don't think I need to do anything with them, like send them to Tallie.
