Eighth.

I've just been sitting here reading through all of my old posts.

I'm not as lost anymore. Not as confused or hurt or angry.

It's the new year. A chance to start over. And starting at midnight, that's what I did. There was this someone. This someone who had caused me a lot of pain what seems like a lifetime ago. And although so much time has passed, and I've forgotten many things, I never forgot how this person made me feel. I've never felt anything like it. Then or since. I felt small, insecure, worthless. I was the kind of girl who thought girls who let themselves get treated this way were stupid and weak. And then it was me. I'd never told him. I'm sure he could come to the right conclusion as to what I thought of him, but I'd never actually told him. I had moved on at this point, and he wasn't in my life anymore.

And then, like a lead pipe, he came crashing into my peaceful existence once again to open his mouth and say the idiotic things he was so well-known for.

But I was ready for him this time. And I told him exactly how I felt. Exactly how I felt about him, and the things he had done to me, and others. That he was worthless, that I deserved better, and always had.

It'll never be enough. I'll never be able to fully explain to him or make him understand what I went through. I don't think he cares enough. If anything, the victim here is him.

It's for this reason, that I really don't care. I hope he stays as ignorant as he is. Because one day, there will be someone who DOES care. And who will say more than I could, and make him feel the way I did.

Goodbye, heartless. You have no power over me anymore.

I hope you live a happy, fulfilling life.

Because I will, and I'm glad you won't be a part of it.

Seventh

It's so loud out here. There's screaming, there's crashing and banging. Earsplitting thunder.
And yet no one is saying anything at all.
I guess I'm sort of depressing. Too many thoughts I suppose. Too many ideas smashing around inside my skull, too many fears.

Someone just make it better. Please, please just come and pick me up off my feet, and make me stop crying. Help me feel loved. I'm so tired of feeling so alone.

It doesn't need to be someone dramatic. Or insecure, or scared. All of the above. He ruined me. I'm too ruined to be torn apart again.

I never thought I'd be the girl to need someone all the time. I'm not sure I am. I just feel so lost right now. So out of touch with everything. And it's all the time.

You have to come to me. I can't find you on my own. I'm too exhausted, broken. And I can't ask you for help. I can't know you're helping me. I'm too proud, I know that about myself.

As sick and stupid as it is, I wish it was you. I wish you were still here. I wish we were still here. Because I love you. I wish I didn't, you don't deserve it, but I do.

Love you like I've never loved another.
Love you like I'll never love another again.
And it kills me everyday,
because nothing I do lets me forget you.

"Careful with the Rose, she knows every word in every scene. Oh please, be good to me."

Sixth.

Marco Butler.
God, where do I begin? It feels like you were just here. How is that fair? I can't sleep, I can't think, and I'm absolutely terrified of being left alone for more than five minutes for fear that all of my grief will suffocate me until there's nothing left.
We weren't even close. Probably said a few sentences to each other in all the time I had known you, and yet I feel that with your passing my whole world has imploded. You were smiling and talking and thinking and breathing and walking and blinking and loving every second of the last eighteen years, and I took that for granted. I will never forgive myself for not knowing you. You were part of my community. Part of my student body. You were part of my world and now you've been so cruelly snatched away before I really had the chance to see you. Everything was already in pieces for me for so many reasons and now .. you're gone. And I can't stop thinking about it, I can't stop crying and I can't stop hurting.
I'm a mess, Marco. A complete disaster. I so thought I was stronger than this. It seemed like I could get through anything. I've always been able to separate my hurt from what's important, and I've always been able to move on, let go, move foreward and in the healthiest way.
But this is too much.
My heart isn't even broken anymore. It's been ripped out, thrown into a cage, drowned and then hung up in a frame on my front door so the world can see how battered I've become. How battered I've LET myself become. And the worst part is people ring the doorbell, come and go as they please and they can't see it. Or choose not to. I know everyone's hurting, and I don't want to take away from anyone's healing process, but I can hardly bare it anymore.
My worst fear for as long as I can remember has been the feeling of being alone. It sounds cliche, but it's the truth. The one thing above all others that I simply cannot handle. It's a well kept secret. I'm a secret within myself. I'm supportive, I do everything I can to appear happy, and I encourage everyone to be brave. But it's not real. None of it's real. And my fear has somewhat manifested into something more like a phobia as the last few months have gone by and it's consuming me. I can't sleep in a room by myself, I can't go a single day without having to be around a million people, with a million things going on, running around in circles as fast as I can so I don't have to think about what I'm going to distract myself with tomorrow, how abandoned the boy I loved has made me feel, how sick and damaged everything seems to be, how there are too many people in the world, how there aren't ENOUGH people to keep me from feeling desperately, achingly alone or how it seems to be getting harder and harder to breathe with each passing day. It's over, Marco. He walked away entirely. It's not a break anymore, it's not a joke, there's no chance of him ever loving me the way I loved him. He can't. He's too fucking afraid and now I'm sitting here, shell-shocked, even after months of the truth hanging in my face. I was totally blindsided and completely crushed. I'm still a mess. And now, I make myself crazy so that I don't have to think about you. And how young and radiant you were. How wonderful and beautiful and sweet you were. And how I didn't take the time, couldn't see past my own self-absorbedness to even get to know you.
And to be honest, I think if we had been better friends, you would have been able to have helped me not to feel as insane as I do. I know now that had we been friends, I would have done anything for you, because you would have taken care of me.
I think about all those kids who were with you that day. They did the best they could have. They were brave, and no one is to blame. It's horrifying, and they all feel guilty and more than anything I want them to find peace. I'd never tell anyone, never utter a word of it, because it would be a horrible thing to say and would probably damage them forever. But as much as they shouldn't feel guilty .. I do wish they had tried harder. I wish they had pulled you out. I wish I had been there at the right moment so that you could have kept on being wonderful and alive. I want to be able to wake up tomorrow and know that, if I wanted to, I could wrap my arms around you and tell you how wonderful you are. How wonderful I know you are, even though I wasn't there to see it.
I'm so scared, Marco. I'm scared for our friends. For our families, especially yours. I want to make this better. I want to take everyone's pain away. It's what I do. What I'm known for. Erin Burley, reliever of pain. Saviour when needed most. I do everything I can to be that for everyone. But sometimes I feel like all the pain I'm trying to take away just sticks to me like burrs. I carry everyone's hurt and disaster and turmoil with me wherever I go, on top of all of mine. I know I can't carry it anymore, Marco. It's too heavy, and I'm so exhausted. I'm too depressed and frightened and lonely. Because I'm carrying it all by myself.
Dear, sweet Marco. Smile. Right now, as you hear me crying, please smile as best as you can. Keep all the love I feel for you right now, and all the love everyone else has felt for you your whole life and never let it go. If I know that your smiling down on me, the load feels lighter.
I just wish I still had the reinforcements that I thought I would. Six months ago, I'd never have imagined myself standing where I am today.
And that absolutely terrifies me.

Fifth.

Three weeks. Three weeks where I have been drunk every weekend, sitting around feeling lost and empty, and three weeks in which so much has changed. School is over. Grade 12 is officially over, and everyone that seemed to mean anything to me is moving on. But it's not that I'm going too. I'm getting left behind. If we were all going somewhere new, that would be different. If I was going too. Instead I get to stick around for another year, still feel like I'm 16 and feel sorry for myself as everyone else starts to read the next chapter of their lives. They're getting an education I don't have, they're meeting people I don't know, they're experiencing things that I don't understand yet, but if I was experiencing I'd probably understand more than anyone else would. One of my best friends is moving. She's not going far, I'll still see her all the time, but it's the house. It's been my second home for three years, a place where all the girls had all of our memories. And I will never be able to go back.
And then, of course, there's him. I don't even want to go there today. Went there yesterday, and the day before, and all the days before and look how that went.
So much is changing.
I've always thought I was good with change, and it's true, I always have been. I'm accepting, I'm able to move on and live my life as best I can. But this is all too much. I don't want to lose everyone. Even the people I barely know I want to keep here, with me. Just for another year. Let's all just stay here in high school for one more year. Say all the things we wanted to, do all the things we wanted to, act on all of our feelings and instincts and have some closure. I feel like I don't have closure for anything and in so many ways. How I feel about some of my friends. How I really feel about the people that surround me. And the ones who don't. The ones who walked away.
I'm drinking a little too much. Just the last little while. Since the beginning of June I have been to eight parties. All of which, I was intoxicated. That's not who I am. That's never been who I am. I almost did something a couple nights ago I would have desperately regretted for so many reasons. The most prominent one being ...
Nope. Not going there. Not today.
I just need to go somewhere. Alone. I mean, people say that it's better to feel alone surrounded by people supporting you than it is to feel alone and you're, well, alone. But I think it's what I need. Get away for a little while, think, write, create. Get all of my thoughts into some kind of order so that I can make better decisions when I come back. I guess that's what I'll do. Go away for a while. I'll walk away too. Go ahead, stay away. Maybe I'm better off, you know? Take your confusion, and your anxiety and all the things you need to figure out and just go. Because this hurts too much. You wanna go so bad? Than don't lead me on, just go.
Only .. make sure you come back as soon as you can.
No. Not gonna go there. At least .. not today.

Fourth.

Was this supposed to get easier with time? A text message or two every day. Something I got so unbearably used to that now those little, sometimes one or two word messages suddenly mean everything. Now that they're gone, they mean the world to me. And a ten minute phone call after a week didn't make that any better.
What am I supposed to do? I'm not the patient type, and I thought that I could be in a moment where it mattered. But I can't. I want this to be figured out, now. One way or another, I need to know. I think the fact that I don't know what's going on is making it worse. I'm stressed, I'm lonely, and I'm already worn down. I'm literally making myself sick. I'm dizzy, I get headaches, I'm exhausted, and it's because of how ridiculously emotional this has made me. Like .. how am I supposed to know how to react? How am I supposed to know what to do? Text, don't text, call, don't call, think this, think that, assume this, keep an open mind about that, it's not fair.
How is this supposed to work, if we can't communicate? How is this supposed to work, if he can't trust me?
I'm terrified. I'm completely terrified that I'm going to lose him, that this is going to end just like this. It doesn't make sense. After all that time, and all that build up, and after the huge risk we both took to get to this spot, and it's over?
No. That's so ridiculous. "If you love someone, you should at least try." Those are the exact words he used. Long before we were anywhere near anything serious. And this is me trying. I'm trying my hardest to be patient and understanding and "gracious". But it's really, really difficult. I don't have any clue as to what he's thinking. No idea as to what he wants, or expects. Because to be honest, I can't allow myself to wait longer than the summer. While I wish I could wait forever, I know that I can't. It's not healthy, it's not fair and it's not the decision I know I'm going to have to make. Do I think we'll get back together? I'm hoping. I'm hoping and praying(?) with everything I've got that he'll figure something out, whether it's what he planned on figuring out to begin with, or that whatever he needs to figure out, he wants to do it with me.
But do I think it will happen?
I really don't know. There are hints and clues that could go both ways. Something he said or didn't say, did or didn't do. Something I did. Or said. Or couldn't say. Or said too much. There are so many things that I can't stop thinking about, and I know that that's part of the reason why I'm freaking out so much. But I can't help it.
I've thought about him everyday for the last four years. Why stop now?
God, what am I getting myself into?

Third.

No one likes to be alone. No one should, anyway. I know I don't. And for the last little while, I haven't felt alone. For the first time in over a year, I didn't feel alone.
And now, I can barely breathe. Because as quickly as someone walked into my life, changed how I felt and started to make me think that, hey, I could end up alright, they walked out again. And while there's an implication that they might come back, if I wait long enough, and we can make things work, I'm starting to think that maybe they won't. Or can't.
I know I can't wait forever, even though right now I feel like I could. Is it because of how much they matter, and how much I want this to work .. or how much I need it to work. What is it that I'm holding onto? Them, or the idea of them? On the outside, it may look like the latter is the more likely. And maybe it is. At first, I was worried it might be. But if it were, songs wouldn't remind me of them for the reasons they do. Certain words wouldn't bring back little memories. Moments that right then might not have felt significant, but now .. they're everything.
I was okay at first. I went to bed, comfortable with the idea, thinking of the possibilities this might create for a future. I was going to be okay. Then the morning came, and everything set in, and it hit me like a plane crash. Maybe it shouldn't affect me the way it does, considering we hadn't been together especially long. Maybe it's because everything is still up in the air. For the first time, I have no idea what will happen. But as usual, I'm thinking. Thinking and thinking and thinking to the point where I throw myself into such a state of panic and anxiety that someone has to scream at me in order for me to be able to place a coherent thought that doesn't involve .. him. Apparently this will give me a chance to get to know myself again, whatever that means. I've been battling serious depression all my life, talking about myself constantly to one person or another with a psych degree, and there's a worry that I don't know myself? I know I'll come to accept it eventually, and be able to figure out the things I need to figure out in this time apart. And who knows? Hopefully we do work things out. But in the mean time, I have to take some time to learn what it's like to be by myself. Learn what it's like to be alone.
I don't want to be alone. But what's more than that, I don't want to be without him.

Second.

I'm not a "Daddy's Girl." Well, I suppose we have our moments here and there. But he forgets about me. He forgets about a lot of things. He concentrates on one path, and stays so caught up in his own little brain that he doesn't pay attention to the rest of the world, and what they might need. He loves me. But he wants to be in control. He's always been that way. Has to be the boss, has to make the cuts, has to decide who does what, has to make the rules. And if they're not followed, he needs to do whatever he feels he needs to do to make you understand that you're smaller. You don't have as much power.
There are moments where my heart breaks for him. Because of his destructive relationships, he pushes people away, and he becomes lonely. And then he seems like a little boy who's lost his way, and there's absolutely nothing I can do. I love him dearly. He means so much to me. But he drives me absolutely insane. He hates that we're growing up. He always talks about how he's lost me. What he doesn't understand is that that isn't necessarily because I'm getting older. It's because with my age, I come to understand what it is he does more and more, and I don't like it. She's not good to him, that's obvious. But he doesn't treat her well most of the time either.
I was having this discussion with my mother the other day; I don't think I could see my father with anyone who he wouldn't fight with. I think about Dad leaving my step-mom all the time, and how there wouldn't be any fighting anymore. But then I think about the last few years and how he hasn't been alone in a long time. He was alone for so long, and the thought of him sitting by himself in a living room, with no one to spend time with, his children with his ex-wife, after having been with someone all the time for so long absolutely chatters me. It would break him. And then I think, well, he might find someone else. But then the whole process would start all over again, they would still fight all the time, and I'd be sitting where I am now in a few years from now. And I mean, he's not exactly young anymore. What happens if they split up, and then that's it? He never finds anyone else. I don't know what he'd do. So, in a lot of ways, I want them to stay together. Because I don't think I could bear the thought of him being lonely, or sad. He says he's happy with his life. Sometimes, I just have to swallow my pride even in the moments where I know he's being an idiot, or clueless, or irresponsible, or mean, or controlling and just be there for him. Because I do love him. And we have more than occasional moments of father/daughter bonding. He can be gentle, and sweet and supportive when he wants to be.
But sometimes, I hate him.
Sometimes, I feel like I never want to see him again, because he's not being my Dad.
He's being my father.
I hope he ends up okay.
I love you, Dad.