Why Reasons Aren’t Remendies

The thing about crying is that you either know for sure that it’s coming, or you are completely taken off guard. And so, I feel my eyes filling with tears.

The past week has been rough, for whatever reason. I say that vaguely because I cannot put on finger on the trigger that caused this feeling to rip a hole into me. I hate that about depression. You always want to know the fucking reasons and answers, but most of the time you wonder why you should bother wanting those anyway; over half of the time the reason never existed.

I’m listening to a song my ex-boyfriend introduced me to. I remember sitting on the couch with a pillow and his head on my lap, while this song was on repeat and he was on Facebook or something. I sat there, listening, looking, knowing I was in love with this person who seemed miles away.

“I…I just feel…alone.”

And why is that? Why can my demeanor pull a one-eighty within a mere hour? What is making me slip this time? I hate asking myself that over and over. What the hell is wrong with me, I keep asking. And you know what? Knowing that it’s all to blame on biology and this word “depression” doesn’t make dealing with this any easier. It still feels like all my fault.

I have a new boyfriend. He is sweet and oblivious. He tells himself he is in love with this version of me he has been given. The thing I miss about Charles, aka Mr. Wrong, is that he really knew me. He knew all my garbage and faults and stuck by me despite them. Even if he did sometimes take advantage of my weaknesses.

I hate that I don’t love him anymore. When I was in love I may have been blind, but I was happy…so insanely happy that he was in my life. That is, happy when I wasn’t incredibly stressed or sad.

I don’t know what I’m doing…I don’t know what exactly I’m missing and what I don’t miss at all. I don’t completely know what I want from my new boyfriend,or my life right now. I miss the direction love gave me, I guess. Maybe I’m finally realizing that for the first time in a year, there is nothing I’m going after.

And deep down while I say that, I feel like shit because I think, “Umm, and what about preparing for college? Your career?”

It all gives me a really sick feeling. I’m not ready to grow up and decide everything. I’m not ready to try to be perfect again. I like knowing that I’m just some shitty teenager, that I can screw up and put things off and just take care of what’s going on right now. I’m not ready…

Here the tears come. Only for the first time in about a month, they’re not from laughing. It’s funny, whenever you don’t expect tears, there’s usually a solid reason for why they are there anyway. When you do expect them, the environment you are in usually gives you reason to believe so.

Me, I have only reason to believe that nothing can stop my tears.