I don’t know. It’s been long. I’ve been writing in other places. I can’t write in my diary since I got to know that my father had read it and remarked things I would not expect from a father but maybe do, from mine. I have so much to say.
I’ll start with this. There’s this girl, let me call her, Susan. She goes to school with me and we stay nearby so we usually go together. We have a common friend. Let me call her Holly. Now, Holly is a person I’ve loved like no other. She has been my best friend and she will always be the best friend I would ever possibly have. Susan comes in later in the scene and they’re best friends too. For the most part, now, I’ve come to accept it well.
Holly is sick and can hardly manage school with everything that is going on in her life. I really love her but in her absence, I think, I’ve realized that I’ve always thought of Susan as a third person, an object which is not here much in my story with me as the central character. One day in school, she broke out in front of me about her family. I think that was the peak, the peak of this gradual transformation of thinking of her as a human. And when that happened, I felt incredibly helpless and sad about everything. I wanted to stay with her, as close as possible. But she’s mostly in groups in school. Since the past two days, this has transformed and I feel terrible when she’s not there. I can’t do work as I keep thinking about her. She’s always there in my head and I want to be with her, alone, all the time. I thought it will be okay if I simply tell her all of it but I knew I wouldn’t be able to so I wrote her a letter. I don’t know if she has read it. I hope she gets it but here’s the thing. I don’t know if I made it obvious that I have started liking her more than a friend would. I’ve never felt this way before. I didn’t know I would ever feel this crippling need to be with them but I can’t avoid it. I hinted it a little in the letter but I am so not something like that to them. I am excited to go to school only to meet her. I hate school for a matter of fact.
I opened my discord and noticed a text, one text from this user who is my oldest online friend. I missed him. And that made me doubt of the authenticity of this feeling, I have developed towards Susan. But the way she is, the way she talks, the way she walks, reads, writes, everything is bothering me in a way things don’t. I am also feeling good even though I feel terrible to stay away from work. I will get back to work soon, now. I think, now that he texted me, I have been trying to make myself believe that I am creating all of this. In my head. This is not real. In fact, often, for Holly’s other best friend’s position, I have hated her. But this is new. I don’t know if she’ll understand anything by that letter. If she asks me, what I meant by “more than love”, I’ll probably say, an urge to protect which is not often a consequence of just love. I remember underlining the word “alone”. Maybe she didn’t get it. I don’t know. Her phone has been confiscated so she couldn’t talk to me but I hope she didn’t forget about that letter and read it at least. And I hope no one else found out about it. I always want to be with her. For someone who hates school, I keep waiting for it to meet her. Can you imagine?
I don’t know. I don’t want anything clear anymore. In school, I go very silent for all this. And I think sometimes, how I fall in the normal human category. Experiencing things most humans do. Not an exception, not a disabled person, not a weirdo, just another kid. It makes me sad but it also makes me think if this is why I should live. To unravel the spontaneity of life, to see what everything is going to hold because it is definitely not what it seems. Four days ago, I never was attracted to anybody. I don’t know how I will face her tomorrow but I think I’ll take flowers again and sleep early today but work really hard from tomorrow. But I really want to love in a way I haven’t before again. And I think that is what is more important than loving her to me which sounds selfish but I don’t know. I hope she understands. And I hope she has things to tell me too. I hope she reads the letter. And I hope I can do what I want to do and be okay sometimes. And one or two things to always be there for waking up because I am tired of being hopeless. I think life in innately so but hopeless is not bland. With things to do, hopelessness doesn’t flicker away. It still persists but in a dormant stage. And it will not get better than this because I don’t want it to.
I wonder if I’ll ever be able to say that I would rather have a feeding tube than die.
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