Promise to fill your pockets with posies….
Breathe in, breathe out, survive.
You’re sitting back and wondering why everything feels so completely foreign, and wishing that things, as always, were the way they used to be. If you were 18 again, maybe things wouldn’t be as complicated as they are now. Marc would be alive still, Kent wouldn’t be around to be the douchebag that is married to your mother and hating you every step of the way, and you wouldn’t have to work every angle to make him like you. But thank god you don’t have to anymore; if he never showed his face again, it’d only be too soon. Being the only one who knows what’s going on in your life is tough. You’re used to being the youngest child that shares every vivid detail about her life with the people she cares about; but the older you get, the more you realize that there is nothing good that comes out of that.
Keeping it to yourself isn’t the best option, but it’s the only option that you’ve got. You listen to Alkaline Trio and realize you no longer have that friend to confide in; you get a text halfway to Michigan that you wish you knew how to react to (what do you say to the girl you used to have everything in common with and now know the phrase ‘Mr. Chainsaw’ would mean nothing to anymore?) You are no longer 15 anymore; you can’t escape the ways you used to. Your rent still has to be paid, electricity, cell phone, etc etc… If it were up to you, things would be a lot different. But they aren’t, so you have to face this shit head on, as resistant as you are to it, and you know… you should have grown up years ago. But growing up is an acquired taste; we’ll see if it actually happens.
If I grow up, it’s for one person right now; if he wants me to grow up I’d do that for him. If not…. we’ll see.
