At the moment, I feel hollow and happy and confused and lightheaded. Is this normal? I don't think it is. It's not emotionally safe.
It's 18:27 and it's Sunday and I finished reading The Perks of Being a Wallflower about twenty minutes ago. It home a lot harder than it should have. I have never taken LSD or smoked weed or cigarettes or drank mass amounts of wine and whiskey, but damn, I feel for Charlie hard. It's funny, I could have sworn that Tumblr and the unintentional (yet intentional) advertisement of the line, ". . . in that moment, we were infinite." But that line accounts for nothing and in my opinion, just acknowledging that is an understatement for the book.
I am generally an optimist person, honestly, but at the moment, I'm feeling like a pessimist. I shouldn't. I really shouldn't. But a good book forces me to think and not the good type of thinking. This book has made me think of how my eighth grade year has gone and all that I've done. I haven't done much. I've felt a lot, though.
In my reign of being fourteen, I have gone through three crushes: a near-mute, a perfect boy in Hitler's standards, and one that stuck out lie a sore thumb. The latter and I went through a session of growing up. I mean that in the most innocent way possible because that's all it was. An innocent, mutual fourteen-year-old crush. And this crush brought out a side of me that I want to bury. I just want to do away with it and never have to see it again. It further led me to believe that I am an utterly awful person, which I kind of am.
We never fell in love. Well, I didn't. That isn't to say that I didn't love him as a companion; that sore thumb was my best friend at one point. But I simply felt strongly for him and my feelings never surpassed that. I was so happy to have found a mutual crush. And I took advantage of it. We took advantage of each other. We never dated. We didn't want to. Or at least, I didn't. I made a silent agreement to myself to never date someone that I knew was a hardcore suicidal - I wouldn't do that to myself. With us just being best friends and him having those nights where he wanted to end it all, that was even too much for me.
We acted like a couple, only on the bus and when we texted each other. It wasn't intentional, I swear. We were just infatuated and loved hugging and I loved that he called me "darling" and we loved it. It was lovely. But I am only fourteen and I have never dated anyone nor flirted with anyone like that before and it was terrifying and I hated it. So, I tried to stop it. I tried to stop our "infatuation." I told him to not hug me anymore, that we were best friends and nothing more than that. We aren't best friends anymore.
He went through a withdrawal, he really did. I have never felt so terrible. But I told him, it was her. It was his Kitty. It was always her. He wanted me, though, and me trying to end everything was like a slap in his face. I know because at one point, we told each other everything. And he went through a period where he hated me. I was okay with it; I had to be. I let him vent to me. He'd go on and on about how he "fucking hated" me. It hurt, but I deserved it. Everything was perfect and I ruined it. I threw the chances of anything away.
We stopped talking to each other. I couldn't help with his depression anymore,, no matter how much I said sorry or tried to help. Because I had moved on and he hadn't. To this day, he can't even look me in my face and have a successful conversation with each other.
We talk again. Not much, though. We've both moved on, but it still huets him. I know it does. On the way to and from school, he leaves the conversation and secludes himself at the back of the bus. I texted him and asked him why he does that, yet he texts me. He said it's easier to text me because he can't see my face, that he forgets how I hurt him because he just thinks he's talking to his phone half the time. So, I asked him why he texted me in general. "I don't expect you to believe me, but I miss having you as a best friend." And I nearly cried.
It's 19:08 and I know for a fact that my eyes are glossy and I'm attempting not to cry because I'm hurting now. I'm hurting myself. But I'm happy and my friend is happy and Charlie from The Perks is happy and we're all happy. I told him it was her. It was always her. And they'd be dating if he wasn't afraid of losing her.
I hate reading. It reminds me why I wish I could change because I'm an awful person.
Please, tell me your thoughts about The Perks and/or this blog.
Not registered?
Create an account