remembering
My scars hurt for some reason every once in a while. And God, they are so ugly to look at. I have no idea how I was able to stop the bleeding. I think it's sort of a miracle. I literally just stabbed as hard as I could into my wrist. Everytime I look at them I'm reminded of it. So when they start hurting I'm constantly thinking about it. I don't even remember it very clearly, but I do remember it. I was a completely different person. I grabbed the knife and just started slashing. It hurt so much...and I wanted it to hurt more, as much as possible, so that just maybe I could feel a tiny fraction of what she went through.
We always talked about my 18th birthday. We would throw a party, I'd have a job by then and we'd move in together. We'd have a shitty apartment and pay too much rent but we'd be together, alone, and it would be perfect. She'd drive me to school until I got my license. We would sleep together every night. That was all still true until July 3rd. Or was it? Did someone other than us already have different plans than we did? Were our plans changed on July 3rd, or were they always the wrong ones?
My 18th birthday is in a week or so, and I'll be spending it most likely crying. And although I'll be listening to Jo sing happy birthday to me, hopefully, which will bring a little bit of happyness, it will still be the worst birthday ever. In fact, everyday since July 3rd is one of the worst days of my life, because no day since then can be good as any day before then. That is seriously what it feels like.
But still, even knowing that, I find myself thanking God--...........no, not god, I thank Jo, Olivia, Yasmine, and my dad that I'm alive. But then I am confused. I have happy moments, I have fun, but (this is one of those times where I say something that sounds cliche, unless you've been through it and can understand) not one day goes by, literally, that I don't think about Sophie and how much I love her. Almost the instant that that thought goes through my head, the thought of her being gone follows right behind. The crash, the hospital, my scars, her grave. It doesn't happen EVERY time, but at some point during the day, every, single, day, I associate her with her death. do you have any fucking clue how painful that is?? could you???
sometimes, this makes me think about all this war stuff in iraq. people are dying everyday, everyday someone loses somebody they love. i mean, i dont know anything about politics or whatever, but i just think, did sadam hussein kill people every single day? and if he did, did he kill as many as we kill with bombs everyday? i wonder if the people who make the decisions about war ever have ever been through what i've been through. i mean, of course some of them have, obviously. so what the hell??? i would never wish this on ANYONE. and then, on top of all that, theres all this stuff that george bush might've lied about the whole thing in the first place. so....even if he didnt lie, people are dying everyday, but if he did lie, it makes it a million times worse. i dont care if i dont know anything about politics, i do know something about love and death. someone in iraq loses their sophie every single day. that makes me want to cry.
anyways...so now i am confused again. at first, i was confused about whether i was supposed to 'get over it' or not. that was cleared up for me when i went to visit sophie. but now, im trying to figure out how i can link my happy moments with the rest of my life. there must be some idea, something, that justifies my having fun and being happy, because during these times i really do feel happy. im just confused, how does my mind allow me to be happy when i know that i have this life to deal with?
my scars still hurt.
-angie
We always talked about my 18th birthday. We would throw a party, I'd have a job by then and we'd move in together. We'd have a shitty apartment and pay too much rent but we'd be together, alone, and it would be perfect. She'd drive me to school until I got my license. We would sleep together every night. That was all still true until July 3rd. Or was it? Did someone other than us already have different plans than we did? Were our plans changed on July 3rd, or were they always the wrong ones?
My 18th birthday is in a week or so, and I'll be spending it most likely crying. And although I'll be listening to Jo sing happy birthday to me, hopefully, which will bring a little bit of happyness, it will still be the worst birthday ever. In fact, everyday since July 3rd is one of the worst days of my life, because no day since then can be good as any day before then. That is seriously what it feels like.
But still, even knowing that, I find myself thanking God--...........no, not god, I thank Jo, Olivia, Yasmine, and my dad that I'm alive. But then I am confused. I have happy moments, I have fun, but (this is one of those times where I say something that sounds cliche, unless you've been through it and can understand) not one day goes by, literally, that I don't think about Sophie and how much I love her. Almost the instant that that thought goes through my head, the thought of her being gone follows right behind. The crash, the hospital, my scars, her grave. It doesn't happen EVERY time, but at some point during the day, every, single, day, I associate her with her death. do you have any fucking clue how painful that is?? could you???
sometimes, this makes me think about all this war stuff in iraq. people are dying everyday, everyday someone loses somebody they love. i mean, i dont know anything about politics or whatever, but i just think, did sadam hussein kill people every single day? and if he did, did he kill as many as we kill with bombs everyday? i wonder if the people who make the decisions about war ever have ever been through what i've been through. i mean, of course some of them have, obviously. so what the hell??? i would never wish this on ANYONE. and then, on top of all that, theres all this stuff that george bush might've lied about the whole thing in the first place. so....even if he didnt lie, people are dying everyday, but if he did lie, it makes it a million times worse. i dont care if i dont know anything about politics, i do know something about love and death. someone in iraq loses their sophie every single day. that makes me want to cry.
anyways...so now i am confused again. at first, i was confused about whether i was supposed to 'get over it' or not. that was cleared up for me when i went to visit sophie. but now, im trying to figure out how i can link my happy moments with the rest of my life. there must be some idea, something, that justifies my having fun and being happy, because during these times i really do feel happy. im just confused, how does my mind allow me to be happy when i know that i have this life to deal with?
my scars still hurt.
-angie