{Filter: My Eyes Only} Hands down: Worst birthday ever.
Not that I was expecting it to be much of anything.
I'm still playing phone-tag with Mike. He probably just wants to be alone, but I want to be there for him. I know I shouldn't be disappointed, but I guess I also wasn't banking on spending my birthday alone. I wasn't expecting to feel this alone.
Matt was a great person. I know a lot of people say that once others die, like how everyone forgot they deemed Michael Jackson a pedophile and blasted his music like no other when he passed, but it's the truth. Three years in Glee taught me that he wasn't a shy person; he was just an observant one who'd rather hang in the back and focus on doing what he loves than putting himself out there to dabble in the bullshit. I guess I always empathized with that. I hope he knows he was an amazing part of the family we used to be.
The memorial is later today and this all feels like some nightmare.
Matt is dead. My parents are divorcing. Mike is ignoring my calls. And Artie...I don't even want to begin processing how it felt to run into him. Everything seemed way messier than it needs to be, so I was lying on the floor of the living room in my parents' house, a sobbing mess, when my father walked in.
I sat up, my back against the couch, hastily wiping my tears as sat down next to me. He pushed a box towards me and when I opened it, I found a cheesecake. I laughed when he said he knew alcohol would help more, but he's still uncomfortable giving his child alcohol, no matter how old I get. As we sat there staring at the ceiling, he murmured that he was sorry for being so distant lately, sorry for never being there, and sorry for missing so many birthdays before this one. It made me cry more, but I didn't feel so alone after that.
We sat there for awhile in silence, my heart heavy for him and my mother, for Matt and for Mike, for Artie and his family, and for the people who were lost or lost someone during the blackout. My dad still won't tell me what he saw, but maybe things will work themselves out.
They have to, right?
I'm still playing phone-tag with Mike. He probably just wants to be alone, but I want to be there for him. I know I shouldn't be disappointed, but I guess I also wasn't banking on spending my birthday alone. I wasn't expecting to feel this alone.
Matt was a great person. I know a lot of people say that once others die, like how everyone forgot they deemed Michael Jackson a pedophile and blasted his music like no other when he passed, but it's the truth. Three years in Glee taught me that he wasn't a shy person; he was just an observant one who'd rather hang in the back and focus on doing what he loves than putting himself out there to dabble in the bullshit. I guess I always empathized with that. I hope he knows he was an amazing part of the family we used to be.
The memorial is later today and this all feels like some nightmare.
Matt is dead. My parents are divorcing. Mike is ignoring my calls. And Artie...I don't even want to begin processing how it felt to run into him. Everything seemed way messier than it needs to be, so I was lying on the floor of the living room in my parents' house, a sobbing mess, when my father walked in.
I sat up, my back against the couch, hastily wiping my tears as sat down next to me. He pushed a box towards me and when I opened it, I found a cheesecake. I laughed when he said he knew alcohol would help more, but he's still uncomfortable giving his child alcohol, no matter how old I get. As we sat there staring at the ceiling, he murmured that he was sorry for being so distant lately, sorry for never being there, and sorry for missing so many birthdays before this one. It made me cry more, but I didn't feel so alone after that.
We sat there for awhile in silence, my heart heavy for him and my mother, for Matt and for Mike, for Artie and his family, and for the people who were lost or lost someone during the blackout. My dad still won't tell me what he saw, but maybe things will work themselves out.
They have to, right?