07 November 2016 02:51
Rowan is gone. . .
07 May 2017 17:42
Hey, haven't written anything since November. . .been awhile.
I used to like the thought of writing in a journal, capturing down all my thoughts and feelings, like ranting to a friend who won't judge me, ever. . .like a real friend.
But then, I actually realized that a friend does judge you. They judge every move, every thought, every feeling. . . everything.
Sometimes you can't even tell they are doing it, but trust me, they are. And the moment you screw up,
they are gone.
Left you for somebody who will do everything right, someone who doesn't have their own feeling, and own thoughts.
Someone exactly like them.
And that is when you realize...you can't trust anybody...when the one person you thought you could trust. . .
is just gone.
And you can't have them back.
10 May 2017 11:34
I forgot how hard it is to keep a journal, and remember to write in it everyday. It requires you to set some time in your daily schedule to do it. . .time that
I. Just. Dont. Have.
11 May 2017 19:29
I've come to another realization today. That the world laughs. It laughs at me. Tells me, "You don't deserve to be happy, to have a moment of peace. You. Do. Not. Deserve. Happiness."
They laughed at me today.
My dog is sick.
The last thing in this world that doesn't show hatred towards me, the last thing that gives me hope. . .might be gone sooner than I thought.
Dex. . .my best friend. I love him. I got him a few years ago, just before his first birthday.
He's an American Bulldog, really big, kinda looks like a cow with his milky-white fur and midnight-black spots.
I've grown up with him in some of the hardest times when everyone else abandoned me...but he was always there.
Granted, he really didn't have a choice but to stay and listen, I was desperate and just overlooked that aspect.
The doctors don't know what's wrong with him. . .is he sick? Cancer? My dad spends so much money to get medication and testing done, but nothing helps.
And I'm scared.
14 May 2017 03:11
Things got so much worse. I can hear him whimpering from downstairs. It woke me up.
I don't know why he's crying. And I hate this feeling. Is he having a nightmare? Maybe he hurt himself? Or possibly. . .
he's dying right now, in this very moment, and is fully comprehending what's happening.
That is scary.
14 May 2017 22:37
I'm spacing out.
I'm hitting that harsh reality of things for the third time this month and it's not even half-way over yet.
Sometimes I like to think Rowan watches over me, and he watches everything I do and say.
If he's watching me right now. . .would he be disappointed?
Would you, Rowan,. . .are you?
15 May 2017 00:08
We are told. . .that there are five stages of grief; denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance.
How is that possible? How do they know how we feel? Everyone processes things differently, there is no step-by-step guide on how to accept someone you loved is dead.
There are no rules saying you must go through every 'stage' before you can move on, or you have to go through them in a specific order.
There are no rules to how you should process what has happened.
*deep breathe* *sigh*
Denial; When you can't accept what has happened. When you don't want to believe what has happened.
Anger; When you want to blame yourself for what happened. When you want to yell and scream at anyone and anything.
Bargaining; Thinking you could've done something to save them. Thinking maybe you should've been the one to die.
Depression; Where the sadness of what actually happened hits you. You think that you will be sad forever and never get over it.
Acceptance; You have come to the realization of what happened, and your past it. You move on, but never forget who they were.
I'm wondering how many stages I'll go through and what order this time.
15 May 2017 00:13
Dex is gone. . .
Now he can watch me too.
16 May 2017 19:42
I didn't go to school yesterday. I didn't get out of bed yesterday.
I just couldn't.
17 May 2017 22:43
I don't know why I still bother writing in this stupid journal.
Maybe to confide in. Maybe because I don't have anyone to talk to. Maybe because I want to talk to someone but can't.
I want to talk to Rowan. . .I know he will listen, but I could never listen to what he would say back.
20 May 2017 10:10
I'm at school, third period, and this guy leaned over to me.
"Are you good?" he whispered.
"I'm fine." I whispered back, rather roughly, as if saying 'Don't talk to me' but really meaning 'Please ask again, please tell me you can see right through me, please tell me that I'm lying. . .
"You sure? You don't seem fine."
"Yes! Leave me alone!"
And that's exactly what he did.
Why do I do this? Why do I shut people out, when I want them in. Right now I wanted to tell him, 'No, I am not fine, I'm slowly drowning in my own river, and everyone's watching.
Everyone can see me struggling but they're not helping.'
But then I would be lying. Some people are throwing life rafts at me, telling me to grab on, to reach out and grab it. . .but I don't.
I just watch it sit there, as I float farther and farther away.
And sometimes I mean to grab it. Just to reach out and touch it, to pull it towards me and hug it like it's the only thing keeping me alive. . .like a lifeline.
In a literal sense, I guess technically it would be, but let's just ignore that for a moment. . .
Sometimes I feel like I'm watching my life from a third point perspective, and I can just see my sad, lost eyes, how they react almost hopefully when someone tries to reach out to me.
I wonder why no one else can see it. Or maybe they do but they're scared of what might happen if they questioned why I had mile long barriers covering up what is the real me.
Why I push everyone away.
Maybe Rowan sees the real me buried underneath it all. Underneath my seven layer, thick, graphene skin. . .he can see who I want to be.
Sometimes I wonder if the world would be simpler without me. That with me gone, no one would have to worry about when or how I would finally break. . .
because I am a bomb.
I can and will explode if someone sets me off, but there's one difference between me and a bomb. . .
I can't be defused.
Once I'm set off, I won't hold back. I will destroy anything in my path.
Maybe this is how Rowan felt. . .he thought the world would somehow be happier without his suffering, sulking around. . .but he was wrong.
He was so wrong.
21 May 2017 13:22
"Your going to be okay,"
"Everything is going to be fine,"
"Things will get better, I promise,"
"Things can only get better from here,"
These are the things I here, from people who don't even know me, but think they do, they think everything happening will be okay. That things will get better. . .but what if they don't.
What if they get worse?
I can't decide if its bad or good that I never said any of those things to Rowan, I never told him it would all be okay, I never said that I could promise everything will get better.
Because friends don't lie.
But, maybe, if I gave him the reassuring lies, he would have hung on just a little longer, and I could have saved him.
Or maybe I'm hiding behind the those same reassuring lies, and I couldn't have done anything to save Rowan, at all.
I'm really tired of it all.
22 May 2017 13:17
A girl I met back in Elementary School, Laeliah, was the closest I've had to a real friend.
We hung out a few days a week and we never really had many awkward moments with each other, we just clicked from the start.
She knew Rowan.
I was reminded of her when she approached me a few minutes ago.
"Hey," she said timidly, "something's wrong. Your not you. Please don't lie about it either, Odín said you yelled at him earlier this week. That's not something you would do.
" She was always the straight forward and confrontation type, if something wasn't right, she was the one to say something about it.
I looked up at her, knowing I could never lie to her, not to her face, or her deep brown eyes. So I settled for silence.
"Please, talk to me."
"I. . ." I contemplated letting everything out to her, but I couldn't, not now, "I don't really know."
She sighed. "Okay, you don't need to tell me now, but please talk to me soon about it. I'm genuinely worried about you, I hate seeing you like this. I don't give up very easily.
" She stayed for a second, hoping the next words out of my mouth were what was going on, but I was deep in thought.
Maybe I should tell her, she always was there for me, I was the one who pushed her away, and shut her out. I ruined our friendship. I wanna tell her. . .I'm gonna tell her right now.
Before I could even open my mouth, Laeliah was already walking away and I shook my head, knowing I possibly screwed up my chance of moving forward, again.
But if I knew Laeliah as much as I believe I do, she hasn't given up yet.
(this story goes over the 10000 word limit by about 2500 so you can continue on with the story on “since november part two” on my profile)