Realization.

When it hits you, it hits you hard.

Today was an all-around, in-your-face suck fest. (I was half tempted to quote of one of my favorite children's books' titles.) One thing after another just kept slapping me in the face, like they do with gloves right before a duel in old movies. Work was demanding, and running off of only two hours of sleep made it even more so. This would have been the case even if it hadn't been for the fact about half of the crew was enjoying their day off. The truck was large, and all my body wanted to do was shut down and go to sleep.

Alongside fighting off the urge to collapse, I've been dealing with a great amount of weird quirks from my body as of late; the symptoms are almost flu-like, but it feels less like a virus and more like something is just... Off inside. I can't explain it. It's one of those situations where you just know something either isn't processing right or is slightly off-balance, but you can't be certain of what. Between being dizzy, dehydrated, and light-headed, I couldn't keep a thought in my head for longer than a minute without having to ask someone what it was I had been doing.

The rest of the day was a blur. In between work and waking up from a nap, I didn't do much else aside from trying to scrounge up some food that would stay in my system easily and attempting to find something to occupy my time with.

Comparatively, my day was fine when you set it next to the last two hours alone. What happened still has me at a loss. I'm not quite sure how to react. Everything that has been needing to be said for months now finally came out, and there's only a minuscule fragment of me that's pleased about it.

Upon stubbing his toe on my end table, Joe instantly got all in a huff, and I knew it was more than just, "You need to pick up your things." Something was on his mind, and it was upsetting him so much he wouldn't look at me, or even speak to me, and we had just, not a moment before, been completely happy (or at least, I was). I pleaded for him to tell me what was on his mind, and started crying when he said, "I don't want to talk about it; it will just make you more upset."

I guess you should know something about me before I go into detail about what happened next. I am, by nature, a very empathetic person. It's easy for me to tell when someone is upset, sometimes even before they realize it themselves. Because of this, the moment anything goes wrong, I instantly try to get an explanation as to what's going on, so I can fix things, or at least never mention or do whatever it was that upset them in the first place again. When someone dear to me either ignores me or says something like what he did, I panic. I am so eager to fix the problem, I will do anything, and when I can't get even one word through to them... I worry for the worst. I take it personally. I know I shouldn't, and goodness knows I've tried to change it, but I can't. It's too ingrained.

Eventually I got him to talk, noting that I couldn't even begin to feel even the slightest bit relieved until he told me what was on his mind. I said, "It bothers me more when you say nothing." It wasn't/isn't untrue.

I almost wish I hadn't gotten him to talk, because the moment he did, he tore limb from limb. Nothing wakes you up like realizing you have indeed become everything you set out not to be - everything your step-father always knew you would. Nearly every flaw I have was laid out in black and white. I had never before felt so exposed. To know that everything you hate about yourself is the same thing driving the one person who means most to you away... It hurts.

He went on to say how I have no apparent motivation toward anything in life. He told me my lack of doing anything in preparation for the future annoyed him. That that was the reason for all recent slew of insults (as if there is ever a reason). It was even stated that he felt like a father with a teenage daughter to look after: "You help pay bills and clean up a bit, but I'm still the one doing all the work." The worst was when he brought up the fact that I only have a job at Target because of him. HE KNOWS how hard I tried to find a place on my own, but nothing ever seemed to work out.

But I can't argue. What would I say? That the reason I've been holding off on doing so many things is because I wanted him to succeed first? He'd never believe it, not even for a second, and quite honestly, it makes no sense from anyone else's standpoint. We're supposed to want to do what is best for ourselves at this age, but because of my many issues, I feel as though he deserves to have a better life than I do. I want to see him succeed before I take a step out into uncertain waters as well. He wants someone he can reliably fall back on, should those same waters be too deep.

I don't know what to say or do, aside from throwing myself out there like a skipping stone, hoping not to splash to the bottom of the river. It's what he wants. So I've made a gigantic list of things I need to change about myself and my habits, and I intend to start checking them off tomorrow after work. There is so much to do, it's overwhelming. I want to ask for help, but I know the only way to gain independence is to do this on my own.

It's times like these I really wish I had a shoulder to cry on though, instead of just my laptop. I tried talking to my friend Mac, who probably knows me better than anyone else. It didn't help. I'm still not sure how he managed it, but by the end of our conversation, I was apologizing for upsetting him by venting. He gets mad at me for ever saying I'm less than amazing. It irks me. All I mean to say is I feel like a sponge, and that I wonder how I could be worth the effort Joe exerts, and Mac freaks out and says we won't be friends at all, that he'd end the friendship on the spot, if I ever said I wasn't worth it again. It really makes me reconsider telling him things, because it sends me a vibe that maybe... Maybe he doesn't want me to be with Joe, if you know where I'm going with this. I didn't want to hear it, so when he left for Taco Bell briefly, I just logged out of MSN. He isn't going to be the thing that is able to help me tonight.

Now, more than ever, I wish I had a best friend. A girl best friend. One that would just be there to say, "Hey, you'll be fine. Just stick to your list and let his comments go in one ear and out the other. Eventually, things will right themselves once again, you'll both be happy, and you'll look back to now and laugh at how ridiculous this whole thing is." Out of everything I lost after high school, having girls my age to talk to is the one thing I wish I could get back. But everyone I know is off making their lives better, with college or work, or even starting life anew in another town. And now, I'm expected to do the same, without any help or guidance? I feel as though I am to weak and weary for such a journey.

Only time will be able to unravel this mess. I can only cross my fingers, persevere, and pray that everything will indeed right itself.

Kalvin.

Memories flood my mind as I wake from an afternoon nap. I am twelve, head held high, waiting for life to take me someplace greater than I've been. I watch the grass in the field behind your house sway with the wind as I wait in your yard.

It's one of those lazy summer days where the weather just calls us outdoors. We take turns poking fun at each other before racing downhill in our roller blades. You almost always win, because you're fearless. The thought of nicks and bruises has never deterred you from mustering all your might.

Eventually we tire and make our way to my front door, just to linger, talking about nothing in particular. We live off each other's energy. The night grows near, but neither of us wish to leave until our parents call us indoors. You are my escape from all that happened behind closed doors, the reason I find myself falling asleep with a smile. You and I are best friends.

Time has passed, and we are much older now. Family has pulled me far away from that house across the street, where we would spend hours doing nothing and everything. Years have flown by without a letter in the mail, describing your latest escapades, keeping me motivated in a new town. That innocence rushes back to me in these moments when I look back at my youth. In those times, I often wonder about the things that would have been had I stayed, and I hope that the years have played out as happily for you as they have for me. You deserve the best.

I miss you, my friend. I miss Fourth of July, playing on your old Gameboy until the sky grew too dark to see the screen. I miss watching your brother run frantically away from the smuggled fireworks, and your parents gathering all the evidence before the cops came by. I sometimes even miss the day of pink bellies.

To look back makes me laugh - how I would dream for something greater, not realizing that great place was right in front of me. The best days were those spent with you and the other neighbor kids, being as ridiculous as we wanted to be. I wish those days had lasted forever.

Let's travel back through time, and not let one moment slip away.

Troubled.

He sits there, saying nothing. He has said little since meeting me at work to take me home. Something is on his mind, but silence is all I am given. I want to help, but I have no idea how to go about approaching him. If I say the wrong thing, I could make it worse.

So, I clean. Laundry, dishes, taking out the trash - anything I can do to fill the void growing inside me, I will do. Knowing that tidying can only be a benefit is what drives me to do so. Whenever I'm mad or stressed out or worried, I clean. By the time the day is over, I imagine there will be very little left in the apartment to organize.

As it stands, it's already driving me insane taking these brief few moments to sit down and type, but considering I have no one to talk to, this fills the other void.

I hate it. Whenever he gets like this, I freak out inside. I don't know how to help or what to do with myself. Worse, I'm not sure if I'm the reason he's angry, or if it's something else entirely that's on his mind. I want to scream or cry or take a really long walk, but I don't want to do any of those things alone. On top of it, I get the feeling that doing any of them would only alleviate the problem for a short while. I need a cure, not a treatment.

How do you go about making things right for someone when you don't even know what's bothering them? I wish I had the answer.