About me, the short : Loves very intensely, everything from books to colors to people. My biggest comfort is my cat, and I depend too much on others for happiness.
About me, a bit more: I’m a pink haired teenage lesbian, unsure of most things except what makes me feel good. Those things I love maybe too. Painting, playing with my band, watching Gilmore Girls with my mum, certain colors, the smell of grass and my bestie’s shaved head. My biggest comfort is my cat, and I depend too much on others for happiness. I read every single day.
Yesterday was a very bad day for me. My first big breakup was just a few days fresh, and while being an introvert, I felt a piercing urge to not be by myself. After having a small crisis when realizing that I had only two or three people that I felt I could hang out with and not have to pretend to be happy, I texted them all and waited for a reply. My eyes still felt dry and rough from crying, the night before, for maybe an hour before feeling enough like an empty shell to fall asleep.
It was a warm day, and I had probably never felt worse in my life. Or maybe so, but, this fear of being left alone without a thing to do, was new to me. I’m a person who always tries to make the most of every day. Not in the sense that I do unexpected stuff, but I try to use every minute for studying, playing the piano, drawing, reading, anything to make me feel productive. I can not stand procrastination or boredom, nothing fuels my anxiety like it. I can not bike to school without music or a podcast. I’m the person who brings a book everywhere, even to the gym (what if i get bored when stretching?) So being by myself is usually the best thing in the world. Being able to do these things at my own pace is healing. However, with my breakup hovering over me like a black cloud, I found myself too restless to do any of these things.
So while waiting for my friends to answer my pleads, I could not bear to do anything but lie on my bed, and stare at the ceiling. After what felt like forever, my best friend answered me, and said we could meet up and skate in ten minutes. I made myself put on a cute outfit and did my makeup for maybe the third time this year. By the time I was done with everything, I picked up my phone and she had changed her mind. She was having a bad weekend too.
I wanted the day to be over, even though it was a beautiful summer day, that had just begun. Whereas school being a place I could and would run into my (now) ex-girlfriend, and by their request, not being allowed to say hello, I also longed for it- a place to steal my time. It wasn’t mine anyways.
The next day, today as I write this, I woke up feeling nauseous, sick and extremely tired. Sometimes we forget how straining heartbreak is for one’s physical health. I made myself eat two sandwiches with cheese, even though the bread was dry and a few days expired. Ironically the date on the package was the day we had broken up.
I got myself through school, and was nice to everyone even though it felt like I would explode. After school I asked my friend to not go home but stay and keep me company for a while. She did so, and in the heat we walked to the art supply store so I could by a new sketchbook. Somehow I felt certain it would help me heal.
We did not have the energy to walk to an actual park in the heat, so we found a small grass lawn between rows of overgrown tulips right next to the street, and sat down. I drew in my sketchbook, and it turned out better than anything I’d made in a while. The head and stomach ache that had had hold of me all day was still there. Like something pressing around my ribcage, so I could barely breathe. Even laughing felt unnatural and it hurt.
When my friend had to catch her train I felt a pang of regret. It was only 3pm, and there where so many hours left until I would be able to go to bed. I did not want to go home just to lie in my bed, so I took my bike and went to my special place. Me and my best friend call it the ”Romeo and Juliet-place” because in ninth grade we made a lesbian R&J film for a school project, and recorded a scene there. Now we always either meet up ”by the fountain” or at the ”Romeo and Juliet-place”. It’s special because you are almost a hundred percent surrounded by bushes and, which was the case today, cherry and apple trees in full bloom. But what makes it so magical, are the bunnies who live there. Every morning when I bike past it on my way to school I see them, and they always seem to be there. When I go to this place I feel like I can breathe. It makes me feel like Dickon in the Secret Garden. I sat there for maybe four hours and listened to podcasts, painted, and did homework.
My very best friend, the one who had changed her mind about skateboarding the day before, I did neither see nor talk to during the whole day. I knew I had no right to be angry with her, and truly I was not the least. The reason I didn’t text her was because I didn’t think I could stand another rejection. If I texted her I would feel the urge to talk to her and ask her to meet me, and I knew I would feel worthless if she said no. It was better not to. But just by being in our special spot I felt close to her.
During the hours in the Romeo and Juliet-place, it felt as though the firm force holding my ribcage tight had lessened, and when my mum texted me ”If you want someone to eat with, me and dad are eating soon.” I hurried home. And at dinner I laughed at my dads jokes without the heaviness in my stomach.
Now a few hours later, the feeling is returning to me, and I feel the magic of the special place running off me. Perhaps I will feel this same empty feeling for I don’t know how many days, but at least in the future I know where to go to make it stop.