Alone Again
Sitting outside Father Falbo's office today, I wondered why it was there that my mind had brought me. Desperately seeking salvation of some kind I had gotten up from the group and walked to the library, where my friends soon joined me. The antsy feeling that now permeated throughout my stomach and forced me to the bathroom to cleanse my hands. Soon I was sitting outside Father Falbo's office, content physically, and wondering what I was supposed to be learning in that moment.
Desperately I wished someone who was looking for me, someone who wanted me, someone who needed me to be all right. At the same time, I knew that no one would come close to even thinking about me until near the end of the period, so I resolved to lose myself in meditation. A part of me wanted everyone to just fuck off, and a part of me just wanted to lie down and die. The biggest part of me wanted to be a part of something, which is why I just kept sitting there, tormenting myself with my thoughts, and enjoying the brief moment of peace that I was getting in the empty hallway.
Patience. I have no idea where it comes from sometimes. I would personally say that I am a very impatient person, but many others might disagree. Sometimes it becomes difficult for me to breathe as I hold my tongue.
Now I have nothing to complain about. I am safe from my mother's wrath, I have friends, and my family would do something if I asked them to, but I still feel alone.
After explaining to my counselor what was going on in my life, she posed the question, "But where does it all go? Where do you put it Natalie? What happens to all the stress?"
What scared me was that I did not have an answer. I have no idea where it goes, all of my fears and concerns. Fears like the one I get late at night in the dark thinking that my Mother will come in and yell at me. It is the fear that as soon as I close my eyes, Dominic, Ian, Jacob, or my Dad will need something. The stress of watching someone I love destroy themselves.
Yet, despite my complaint today, I would never give up the chance to help others, to know what they are going through. I just wish that I had someone like me, to listen to me, want to give me a hug even as they are being shoved away. I always had that with Graham. I never felt guilty for telling him, and he listened intently no matter what I was saying, giving me everything and requiring nothing in return. I think I am only capable of one way relationships. I am meant to be the mentor, the tutor, the parent, the support, the counselor, the friend, but I should not expect the same back. I used Graham, and I took him for granted, an unforgivable sin.
The pain for my Mother is worse this month than any previous, but I basically was handed a year's deadline to get over it, so I have began suffering in solitude. I am an adult now and as such I am expected to be mature, and to not need any babying. I feel as though I am in Hamlet, having to move on when I still have not accepted her death.
I finally figured out why I was sitting outside Falbo's office.
It was because of one of my friends. It was the fact that I had seen him, smiling and laughing, happy with those around him. Just last night I had convinced him to stay till morning, and there he was, acting as if there was nothing wrong! I wanted to scream, I wanted to cry, but more than anything I wanted to celebrate his happiness. Yet, even though I could have sworn it was real, deep down, I know that he is only putting on a face for the rest of them.
It was the fact that I desperately tried to help him, but he did not talk to me. It was the jealousy that overcame me, when I saw him happy with Kena only moments earlier, and was cold and distant to me. The pain is in knowing that he is only hugging me so that I will not say anything.
I had left a bag in the theatre today, and despite the fact that five different people had told me that they wished I had their lunch, not a single one volunteered to walk with me. Oh, how I wanted to ask, beg someone to come with me! But, at the same time, I knew I never could. Also, if I had asked, it would have ruined it. I knew that no one wanted to walk with me, it was clear. As I trudged across the grass, I walked past group after group of people, fitting in, laughing, and finding something in common. No matter how "popular" I get at this school, I will never have what I did junior year, and that is friends who know what I am feeling without me having to say a word.
After coming back from Stage 2, I entered the school building, and saw two girls huddled near a locker, talking in hushed and excited voices about something. Exhausted mentally, I nearly wept for the site of the empty hall after they had gone. Something in that moment got me. It is the site I see everyday, the empty hall. Voices I pass and greet, people I know but really don't, classes I find myself in, all come back to the empty hall. This school is hollow, providing only pain for me, and a constant reminder of my solitude.
The lone wolf of Saint Pius, it is a wonder I do not bite the hand that feeds me. I am tired, but perhaps if I sit here for just a moment, I will regain my strength . . .
Desperately I wished someone who was looking for me, someone who wanted me, someone who needed me to be all right. At the same time, I knew that no one would come close to even thinking about me until near the end of the period, so I resolved to lose myself in meditation. A part of me wanted everyone to just fuck off, and a part of me just wanted to lie down and die. The biggest part of me wanted to be a part of something, which is why I just kept sitting there, tormenting myself with my thoughts, and enjoying the brief moment of peace that I was getting in the empty hallway.
Patience. I have no idea where it comes from sometimes. I would personally say that I am a very impatient person, but many others might disagree. Sometimes it becomes difficult for me to breathe as I hold my tongue.
Now I have nothing to complain about. I am safe from my mother's wrath, I have friends, and my family would do something if I asked them to, but I still feel alone.
After explaining to my counselor what was going on in my life, she posed the question, "But where does it all go? Where do you put it Natalie? What happens to all the stress?"
What scared me was that I did not have an answer. I have no idea where it goes, all of my fears and concerns. Fears like the one I get late at night in the dark thinking that my Mother will come in and yell at me. It is the fear that as soon as I close my eyes, Dominic, Ian, Jacob, or my Dad will need something. The stress of watching someone I love destroy themselves.
Yet, despite my complaint today, I would never give up the chance to help others, to know what they are going through. I just wish that I had someone like me, to listen to me, want to give me a hug even as they are being shoved away. I always had that with Graham. I never felt guilty for telling him, and he listened intently no matter what I was saying, giving me everything and requiring nothing in return. I think I am only capable of one way relationships. I am meant to be the mentor, the tutor, the parent, the support, the counselor, the friend, but I should not expect the same back. I used Graham, and I took him for granted, an unforgivable sin.
The pain for my Mother is worse this month than any previous, but I basically was handed a year's deadline to get over it, so I have began suffering in solitude. I am an adult now and as such I am expected to be mature, and to not need any babying. I feel as though I am in Hamlet, having to move on when I still have not accepted her death.
I finally figured out why I was sitting outside Falbo's office.
It was because of one of my friends. It was the fact that I had seen him, smiling and laughing, happy with those around him. Just last night I had convinced him to stay till morning, and there he was, acting as if there was nothing wrong! I wanted to scream, I wanted to cry, but more than anything I wanted to celebrate his happiness. Yet, even though I could have sworn it was real, deep down, I know that he is only putting on a face for the rest of them.
It was the fact that I desperately tried to help him, but he did not talk to me. It was the jealousy that overcame me, when I saw him happy with Kena only moments earlier, and was cold and distant to me. The pain is in knowing that he is only hugging me so that I will not say anything.
I had left a bag in the theatre today, and despite the fact that five different people had told me that they wished I had their lunch, not a single one volunteered to walk with me. Oh, how I wanted to ask, beg someone to come with me! But, at the same time, I knew I never could. Also, if I had asked, it would have ruined it. I knew that no one wanted to walk with me, it was clear. As I trudged across the grass, I walked past group after group of people, fitting in, laughing, and finding something in common. No matter how "popular" I get at this school, I will never have what I did junior year, and that is friends who know what I am feeling without me having to say a word.
After coming back from Stage 2, I entered the school building, and saw two girls huddled near a locker, talking in hushed and excited voices about something. Exhausted mentally, I nearly wept for the site of the empty hall after they had gone. Something in that moment got me. It is the site I see everyday, the empty hall. Voices I pass and greet, people I know but really don't, classes I find myself in, all come back to the empty hall. This school is hollow, providing only pain for me, and a constant reminder of my solitude.
The lone wolf of Saint Pius, it is a wonder I do not bite the hand that feeds me. I am tired, but perhaps if I sit here for just a moment, I will regain my strength . . .
posted by Nat Rivera at 12:18 PM
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