you got the money, I got the time babe

You think it's been almost five days now, or almost four, I can't exactly count the time between things like this. And there is no between, really, because what comes next is entirely different, what happens after this is something of a different, incalculable measure. And I don't really know what that's like, I guess. My heart is always set on something, and now it's set to burn, so what?

If I am lost for a day, try to find me.
But if I don't come back then I won't look behind me.
All of these things that I thought were so easy
just got harder and harder each day.

And the thing that kills me is that now someone is wetting his pants thinking it's his turn, but it's not, and how do I explain that it never was? So, I can't tell him that I've finally lost to reality, and that for all my dreams and fantastic plans for my perfect future it's finally nothing more than maybe a book, a few pictures, and a box of crap piled neatly underneath my bed that I must search for in order to rummage though.
I want to mourn. I want to curl up into a ball and watch sad movies and eat ice cream, but the weather will not permit. So i lay in the sun and hope to turn into something beautiful so that maybe my body will stop rejecting me so much. This is backwards logic, I know, I also feel like dying my hair again, and getting a tattoo and striking out in as many obscene ways as I possibly can. But I know that will just be a displacement of emotions. And then there are people who are breaking my heart all over again. I do not want this right now, always feeling like i should be apologizing to someone. I am sorry, but not indefinitely, and not for a whole season. I am just trying to make everyone happy, and I am trying really hard to be happy, but I stupidly placed one too many eggs in someone's basket and they dropped it and let them smash all over the floor.

I made my bed and I sleep like a baby, okay?

I just don't know how he sleeps, knowing this was mostly his fault. She did not understand when I tried to explain this to her, and I know she was trying to be noble and a good friend so that she could say WELL, even when i was mad at you I was still a good friend to you. But you shouldn't do things so that they serve to your advantage in the future. I just don't believe in that.
I tried to explain to her that I can't talk to him and not be in love with him, which she did not get. But you'll still be friends right? He doesn't want to push you out of his life? And I don't know how she doesn't know that it doesn't work like that, because my love for him hasn't changed and won't change until I see that he is all wrong for me. Maybe the day he takes me to church and I throw up all over the altar. But when will that day come? I could wait for it, but I could be waiting for it forever.

People will wait forever for so many things. This makes no sense to me. I don't need to wait for things anymore, I am old now, I am tired. I know I am nineteen but you don't know all the things that I know. I feel entitled to a degree after cancer, I think everyone should get one. It doesn't just demonstrate inner strength, you dumb bunnies, you'll learn more in those two years than people learn in a lifetime. I don't know why, maybe I just went through all the hard things first and now all I know is hard things. This life is just too easy for people. That's why they are mostly dumb bunnies.

And I know my insides are too soft. And I know I sometimes can't survive without sleep, and that I am addicted to coffee. And I can't plan seven days into the future, because it's summer and it's sundown, and I get so distracted by beauty that it ruins all my plans. But I don't understand why people can't coast into plan B. Life is made up of plan B's and C's and D's. I am sick of preparing myself for a future created by someone else. I am scared of growing up into a mushroom like my sister will, already excited about the corporate world, as excited as one possibly can be about living such a cushy, boring life.

Well, she tried to shrug, and then too quickly attempted to coax me from irrational rage into calm, pacified readjustment. I can't be angry, and I can't cry. Why are you angry? She asked, but she apparently only heard her own problems through the phone, I said I can't be angry. Oh. She said. Why would you want to be angry?
Because it is easier to be angry, and say how badly someone wronged you, than to say well I am to blame for this too. Which is all I can say right now, because it's true. And I want to sit in a coffee shop all day and contemplate this. But I can't, because I am home, so I numbly sit in my backyard and think about going shopping with my mother and wonder when in the hell did i succumb to painting my nails baby pink instead of some hideous shade of orange, bronze or gold? And how has my body been so ignored for so long that I can barely walk up a hill without being winded? The month of august will be long for me. And I'm going to do what I want. That was the plan all along, but what I wanted was you, and now that you've taken that away from me I will have to make other plans.

I'll be spending the next solid week and then some with just Fran and Sunny. I don't know how I will survive the rest of my year without them, and I don't really want to think about it. Hopefully, it will rain.