My life has changed so dramatically, so painfully, it has become close to unbearable. It's not like my great loss of losing myself, or a new boy coming along. This is too much this time. And in all happened, in one day.
I knew this day would come. I knew it as soon as he cheated on her. I knew it as soon as Tristen was born. I knew it as soon as he starting leaving, not telling anyone where he was going. When I got the call that we were staying at Mama's, I knew it finally arrived. I've prepared myself so long for this yet I still couldn't say I was ready.
Here's one of the things I learned that morning: if you cross a line and nothing happens, the line loses meaning. It's like that old riddle about a tree falling in a forest, and whether it makes a sound if there's no one around to hear it. You keep drawing a line farther and farther away, crossing it every time. That's how people end up stepping off the edge of the earth. You'd be surprised at how easy it is to bust out of orbit, to spin out to a place where no one can touch you. To lose yourself—to get lost. Or maybe you wouldn't be surprised. Maybe some of you already know. But one thing that makes it worse, is that you didn't know it was going to happen like that.
Staying at Mama's place is chaos. My mom and Tristen on the futon, Becky on her bed, Panchi in his room, Me and Mama on Papa's bed, then Papa sleeps on his bed during the day because he works nights. All of us in a 3 bedroom apartment. I can't believe we did it when I was younger, before Mike.
And I always wanted to move back there because I wanted to be in Hillside, and hangout. But you know what? I always stay upstairs. I always stay laying down in the living room staring at the fan. I don't want to go outside anymore, I don't want to see faces. I want to be by myself.
The very first night we stayed there, I was hanging out with my father and he dropped me off. I went straight to Papa's room and laid down. Then I started crying. Crying because I lost everyone and everything in one day. Mike, my friends, my bed, my television, my DVD collection, my bathroom, my house, my life. Everything that meant something to me, even in the slightest way. My mom came in and tried to talk to me. But I didn't know what to say. Even if the words would come, my throat was so tight it wouldn't let them escape. I was frozen.
Days passed and I found myself frustrated, screaming when I tried to look for something saying, "I WANT TO GO HOME!" One day my mom responded, "This is your new home." Then it whacked me right in the face. No matter how many times I squeezed my eyes and wished, hoped - things can never go back to the way it was. I could never go home. Have you ever reminisced on something in the past, thinking of every possible way you could have changed it, make it last, make it work? You spend your days waking up and just thinking about it, going through your day thinking about it, going to bed thinking about it. Hoping and praying it would go back but realizing nothing lasts forever? Oh nothing lasts forever.
But this is the reality: My clothes are in bags. I'm not going to have a phone anymore because we can't afford it. I can't make articles as much anymore because I don't have a computer. I can't go back and sleep in the comfort of my own damn bed. And its so freaking sad.
I guess though, the problems start when we refuse to let change happen and cling to old habits. But, if we hold on to the past too tight, the future may never come. And I need the future to make things better. I need the future to make my mom's life better, Tristen's life better, my life better.
I'm writing this on the computer at my old place, and it's so weird. I feel like I'm in a strangers house, like I don't belong, but I do. This is where I'm supposed to be. I laid on my bed, looked around in my room, and I couldn't picture me always in there, watching television, doing my homework, listening to music. It's like I didn't live here at all. Like it was some other lonely girl.
When you mess with one part of a person's life, you're not messing with just that part. Unfortunately, you can't be that precise and selective. When you mess with one part of a person's life, you're mess with their entire life. Everything affects everything.
Despite everything else, I do miss Mike. I miss his sarcastic jokes, I miss him helping me with my science, I miss him making cookies for me. But that's the point of it all. No one knows for certain how much impact they have on the lives of other people. Oftentimes, we have no clue. Mike was my support, Mike was my friend, Mike was my shoulder, Mike was my father. And I love him and miss him, and he will forever have a part of me.