Assurance

There were some days I didn't even understand myself. It's like my body had two speeds, high or very low. There are days where I couldn't even make myself leave the room, like a deep depression takes me over. Even though it seemed like my life wasn't in any way terrible, it seemed like every little thing wrong built up for this day. Some people passed it off as PMS, but I can't give into that. I've done this off and on since I was about twelve, way before I even thought of a period. I just lay here in my bed and think. When the terrible thoughts started to overcome me, I started to cry until I had no more tears. Eventually I would fall into a thick, dreamy sleep until I repeated the process.

The subject of my mother came up a lot in today's pity party. It had been four days since the eventful Christmas party. She hadn't said much to me and didn't bring it up. I figured it was because either she was ashamed of herself or she was still mad at me. There was a thick tension in the air and I could only imagine what she thought of me today. My mother was well aware of my quiet days, she was forced to excuse me from school plenty of days. I'm surprised she didn't try to force me into therapy, but I think even she was smart enough to know that would just a waste of time. I don't understand people who could harbor such a deep hatred for their parents. She had pushed my dad away and was slowly pushing me away, but I didn't hate her. At the end of the day, no matter how bad she hurts me, she's still my mother. I wish I could hate her, but I couldn't.

I was more than aware of how different I was than every one in our family, excluding Charlotte of course. My appearance was the first thing that stood out of course. Mostly everyone in the family had hair the most ravishing shade of blonde in a pin straight form. Mine was a dark brown that cascaded in waves, which I myself loved. The most major difference was my skin color. Everyone had pale white skin while mine had a tint of brown tan. Being pin skinny was in our genes, but I was glad I managed to have a bit of curvature in my hips. I swear I got asked if I was adopted once or twice by guests. I would pretend to ignore their comment ashamed that my mother didn't own up to my father. I couldn't even bring thoughts of my dad forward, there so much built up there I would be in bed for days. At the moment I had no connection with the outside world, I had made the mistake of leaving my cellular in the kitchen, surely Charlotte or at least Oliver had tried to ring me since last night.

Oliver was a subject in my life I myself didn't understand. After the little mishap at the party we stayed at the lake until about two in the morning. Even if I couldn't own up to it, I was half expecting something maybe romantic to happen between us, but nothing did. I will admit, we were a little closer to each other than normal friends should have been, but that night, sitting so close to him felt so right. I didn't know what Oliver and I were doing but I loved it.

I didn't want to put myself in the situation of wanting something with Oliver so desperately, then I didn't. I didn't want to because I knew he didn't want me. Surely if he wanted me in any way, he would have done something by now. All the time we've had over the past few weeks and nothing. Sure, we had both had our shameless flirting moments, but he had never once hinted anything about a relationship.

It was rejection.

It was a fact.

So when it came to Oliver, I was just in it for the ride, wherever it would take me. I really do care about him deeply, but I couldn't let him get me down. I can't let a boy from Sheffield take over my life. My life, that I work so hard to get on track. No one could disrupt it.

Thinking about Oliver brought on a new batch of tears to my eyes.

Was I that pathetic that he thought I needed him to so much?

My body started to sink into the sea of blankets on my bed as my silent tears overtook me, along with a deep sleep.