i miss your arms. the way they melted into mine. how i didn’t feel like i was going to die, for once in my fucking lifetime…
i miss the gentle pain, just barely kept at bay. as i opened my eyes, and welcomed in the new day…
i miss the sound of a busy school hallway. because in my head, it’s a beautiful, rosy-pink hue. it is cute outfits and love triangles, the cracks in my skull sealed up with superglue.
because don’t you know, that only really lonely people buy their clothes from the boyfriend section. because at least if you squeeze your eyes closed, you can pretend that your cheap blue jeans smell not of rubber and chemicals, and clean-pressed lines.
but of someone. anyone. there, right beside you.
With school going back soon, my depression levels have just been through the roof. Back-to-school is never an easy time for me, but with the added anxiety of a potential second wave of coronavirus, another lockdown leering over me… well, I’m not going to lie, it’s been a lot of why I’ve had so much trouble posting, or doing much of anything of late.
I guess that pre-COVID, I really hoped this year could be something like a nice high school experience, if there is such a thing. Not perfect, but nice. A year with lunch hour in the library, making friends with my teachers, and walking into the village near my school and window shopping. A year of doing things. But right now, I’m not sure I’ll even physically be going to school. (I have that option, since I do most of my work independently, via a computer.) Or that I feel safe doing so. I still don’t even know what school will look like, and I’m going back in, like, two weeks–but it’s been complete radio silence from my teachers.
I just really don’t want to spend all year feeling sorry for myself, alone in my bedroom. I could do it–and pass easily; I’ve done it many times before. But God, I don’t want to.
Despite how much I’m seeing my friends, it’s been a really lonely couple of weeks, I guess. And sometimes, it’s hard not to just throw the towel in. Lie down, and give up–you know? Cut myself off preemptively, long before I’m told to.
I just feel really robbed. I know this is nowhere near the worst thing that this virus has caused. But it’s something I’ve been dealing with, and I think a lot of other people my age have been dealing with too–so I felt like it was important to talk about.
Lots of love,