Friday 6 January 2012

This post is like my head: a mess - Part One


I wrote this, yesterday. It remains unfinished because I couldn't bare the pain. I wrote it while trying not to pick up a knife:
I texted my friend to tell her I was back in England and asked her if she wanted to do anything in study leave, unless she was actually going to study for the entire thing in which case afterwards (I have no exams until June but I intend to do the work I should have done over the holidays).
It was more pleading, actually. Since I offer to give up my free ticket and pay for someone else if we went to the cinema. I gave the reason for this that my mother is still being an arsehat. My friend picked up on this, phoned me, explained that I shouldn't come into school tomorrow because it is study leave and asked me what was wrong and was I okay. I told her I was fine and it didn't matter.
I don't think she believed me because I don't even believe myself.
I'm not accustomed to being phoned, or people who in real life seeming concerned who aren't being paid to.
But I hit the same block as I usually do. My mother could probably have heard through the walls, though I could have gone downstairs.
If I start speaking rather than typing, I feel like I might fall to pieces or never stop crying or that my room might just suck me in like a big black hole. I want to speak almost as much as I don't want to speak.
I want to tell her that one of the reasons I'm a bad friend is because I feel as though I'm constantly keeping a secret, but there are other reasons. I want to explain why she shouldn't be my friend because I am bad at it, but I don't want her to lie and tell me otherwise and I don't want to lose her as a friend.


I had returned from a holiday to Canada earlier that day. Skiing is one of my favourite things to do, however my holiday was tainted by all the arguing.

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