I want to hear. I want to communicate with another human being and I want to hear a voice not my own say that it's not my fault. I want to see the words "But you ARE creative. You wrote that poem just today!" coming from a screenname I associate with a person I love, whether or not I have even been within a thousand miles of their physical person.
I want to be told that I am loved despite my shortcomings. I want to know that I am pretty, and that a bad haircut can be trimmed inexpensively and without leaving photographic evidence. I want to be comforted with the knowledge that another person on the face of the planet knows that I set my alarm clock and overslept my deadline. I want just a little sympathy when I get my grades back and I'm horribly in the hole because I didn't get done with that essay I'd angsted over all morning. I want somebody to soothe me with words that say it's not my fault. I want somebody to know I genuinely tried, and failed all the same, and I also want that somebody to know that that doesn't make me a failure. I want to be able to believe that I have worth because I'm not the only one who thinks that way.
Okay. I feel better.
I woke up about 3 A.M. with the nightmare knowledge that my essay on how friends can't always be trusted had been due at midnight. I set that alarm clock. I was only going to sleep for an hour and then I was going to finally finish this. I pulled old diary entries and I had plenty of text. I just needed to edit it down to size and make it flow. I downloaded special software for the sole purpose of getting this essay done to specification.
And now I can't because the teacher accepts no late work. This it a quarter of my grade to date or so. Even if I had 100%, it's being dragged down by that zero now.
Goddamn it! This wasn't supposed to happen. I set the alarm and I tested it to make sure it worked, too. Somebody heard it going off and turned the volume down to nil without waking me. AGAIN. GODDAMMIT MOTHER! She thinks she's all sweet but she does this ALL THE DAMN TIME.
She thinks she still knows what's best for me when she barely knows me anymore. I know me! I know what I need to get done! She doesn't!
Okay, Ree, this is a silly subject to get all pissy and watery-eyed over.
No it isn't. This is my grade, the only thing I'm doing all summer, and for perhaps the first time in my life, the fact that I'm getting an F on an assignment isn't entirely my fault. I made arrangements to get it done one time, as asked, and those arrangements were thwarted. I was unable to do anything about it until it was too late.
Not my fault. Not my fucking fault this time.
I did not need an essay on not trusting friends to be due while I was sick and the day after father's day.
It's okay. This is hard. It's okay to be emotional. This was a major assignment, but nothing can be done now. Father's day sucks, but it's over now, and won't be back for a year.
I miss Erin. Oh God, do I ever miss her. She keeps updating online and I keep checking on AIM each time, hoping to catch her. I want to say I'm sorry for pushing her to tell me that I don't suck and a million other things. I want to say that I know that I'm worth something now, and I know it for myself, and she doesn't have to talk me down. I want to be there for her, and ask her how her day went wrong, and gently query if anything went right at all. I want to share the suck factor with her because my shitty day and her shitty day might just make us laugh if we'd get the chance to compare them in realtime.
I also want to say to her that I have printed out several copies of this image she made, and also made it my desktop wallpaper, to remind me constantly that it is not good to shove my friends into that position.
*blinks* Aaaand my brain just took that in an interesting direction. *swats it away*
Sigh. I really miss Peanut.
How I wish
How I wish you were here
We're just two lost souls swimming in a fish bowl
Year after year
Running over the same old ground
What have we found
The same old fears
Wish you were here
--Pink Floyd, "Wish You Were Here"