Everyone has been asking me if I’m excited and as a rule of thumb I say yes and smile. Only a small few now the truth, which is that I really don’t want to go to fresno anymore. Hell, I’d settle for cal state long beach at this point. It hasn’t been until it really hit me that I wouldn’t be living at home that has made me start to realize all the things I would miss. I had a bit of a breakdown a couple of nights ago while I was talking with my mom about how I didn’t think I could handle not living at home and having to leave all my family, friends, and memories behind. I know very little outside of socal… I’ve never been away from home for more then a week and suddenly I’m going to be gone for a whole school year??? I’m not a fan of this whole ‘trial by fire’ experience…
My best friend is flying home for two weeks and I’m so excited to see her, but I’m also sad because I only get to see her for one week because I leave for college in the middle of her visit… part of me want to see her now but another part of me doesn’t want college to loom any closer.
I decided last night that I’m going to become a twitter dork… you can check it out… it’s pretty boring but I want to be as technologically savvy as possible because I’ve always seemed to be the last one to join the newest technological trend.. my twitter account name is Sabrina_e_f_g
Guess I’ll give ya’ll an excerpt from the story I’m writing. I’m kinda writing it out of order because it’s easier for me to remember fresher memories first before I go back and try to recall how everything played out in order, so this is from the middle. And, Yes, this story is true… even though I wish it wasn’t.
Something about this day felt strange right from the beginning. I could feel this, almost indescribable, sixth sense telling me to be on my guard. My head was spinning, perhaps from a subconscious knowledge of events about to unfold but most likely just a reaction to the thick smell of pot and booze hanging in the bus as a result of the previous night’s party.
I slowly rose from the bunk, noting that I had awoken alone. Again. Going out from the bunks to the front room, they were scattered about, passed out in uncomfortable positions. Checking the bathroom and the back room, I found no trace of him. Again. If this is him pulling a drama-queen act again, count me out. I’ve had my fill of the whole tortured poet act, and I don’t think I can humor him for one more pity party. HE forced me to come, HE wouldn’t take no as an answer, HE begged me for hours on end, and now HE was basically ignoring me. My mind was starting to wander back to the idea of packing up and just going home. Maybe it was exhaustion clouding rational thought or my heart finally giving up on him but I retreated to my bunk and began throwing everything into my bags. It wasn’t an easy feat, considering how my stuff was everywhere, mixed with everyone else’s stuff and how everyone’s stuff was mixed in with mine. I’m not sure at what point it started but I looked down to see my shirt soaked with tears and suddenly my numbing anger subsided and I could feel the burning heat in my eyes and face as the tears cascaded down. No, no time for a mental breakdown, I needed to get out before he came back. Careful not to bump anyone as I tip-toed around the sleeping idiots, I made it out the door, slowly closing the bus behind me as I felt the cold morning on my skin. I finally released the breath that I had been holding for what seemed like an eternity. As I turned around, there he was, off in the distance sitting under a tree. It was foggy and he was looking down, so I slowly crept along the bus until I was safely on the other side. Checking my wallet, I found I had enough for a taxi ride to the airport, and the ‘shopping’ money from a few days ago was enough for a flight back to California. Now all that I had left to worry about was how I was going to get home from the airport, guess I’ll figure it out when I get there.
Ducking into a Starbucks when it began to drizzle outside, I called a cab and then proceeded to sit in one of the three big overstuffed chairs seated around a faux-antique table and stare absent-mindedly out of the window as my mind went through a list of possible alibis to explain my absence. I heard the rain outside, I heard the low murmurs of the other people seated near me, I heard my own breath become staggered as my mind drifted to unwanted thoughts. I was too distracted by my own lack of self-control, to hear the door open, to hear someone say my name, to hear someone walk toward me. I was unaware of anything outside of myself until I suddenly felt two hands touching the sides of my face and another pair of lips on my own before I could even process what was happening. I pulled away and turned away. He can’t win this easily. I can’t give in this quickly.
“How the hell could you leave without telling anyone? Without leaving a single note?” he whispered, but there was no mistaking the intense anger in his words.
I flinched a bit at what he had said but quickly recovered, and answered him as calmly as I could manage, “Simple.”
He sighed and whispered, quieter then before and with no trace of anger, “I was scared something had happened to you.”
It was obvious by his tone that he was relieved to have found me safe, which would mean he cares but I still wasn’t going to give in because it’s just another part of this vicious cycle. He’s desperately in love with me, we go out, he gets bored with me, I leave, then he’s desperately in love with me once again. The whole novelty of this whole ‘famous boyfriend’ thing has faded and all that was left was a pathetic wanna-be who needs to be constantly entertained like some sort of overgrown 5-year-old.
So consumed by my own train of thought, I had forgotten he was there and my silence was making him desperate.
“Let’s go back to the bus,” he said, standing up and grabbing my bags. He started walking and was most of the way to the door when he realized that I wasn’t behind him. I could hear his annoyed sigh of frustration. He walked back and sat down in the chair across from mine. “darling, don’t you want to come back to the bus and be with me and the rest of your friends?” he said it more like a command then a question, there was this odd anger lurking right under the surface of his words. Anger? HE was angry with ME? That’s all it took for me to snap.
“No, I don’t want to go back to you or my so-called-friends. I’m done being the ‘undesignated driver’ that silently takes care of everything since you’re all too drunk to do anything for yourselves because no one appreciated it. I’m done forgiving you for every mistake you make because you never learn from them. I’m done being the ‘adoring fan’ because you need to grow up and learn that the world doesn’t revolve around you” Stopping to take a much needed breath, I noticed all the faces staring but my anger wasn’t satisfied yet. “I’m done with your guilt trips, pity parties, and innuendos. I’m done with all of your crap.” I saw the taxi was parked outside of the Starbucks. He was too paralyzed to move, so I grabbed my bags. “Most importantly, I’m done with you,” and with that I ran outside and jumped into the taxi.
I barely stuttered out that I wanted to be taken to the airport before I broke into a crying mess. Sobs were bursting out as a rocked back and forth, gripping onto my knees with all my strength. Poor taxi driver was too scared to say anything, which was probably for the best, and drove in silence as I was wailing in the backseat.
The cab driver gave me this look of sadness and concern as I scrambled out of the vehicle and got all my stuff out as well. He looked like he was going to say something but changed his mind. I grabbed my wallet and opened it when he touched my hand and shook his head. Without saying a single word, he got back into his cab and drove away. I sighed, upset that he wouldn’t let me pay him, but turned around and went to buy my plane ticket home.
“6 hours!?!? There’s no flight into Long Beach for 6 hours!?!?” I said staring at the man at the ticket desk.
“I’m sorry ma’am but that’s the soonest available” he said apologetically.
I suddenly felt embarrassed for having vented some of my pent up anger on an innocent bystander. “oh, that’s fine. I apologize for getting upset with you, it’s not your fault,” I said trying to put a smile on my face. He smiled in return and handed me my ticket.
I made my way to the ridiculously overpriced food court in the terminal and grabbed a coffee and a muffin before sitting down. I pulled my phone out of one of my bags. About 20 missed calls and about double that in text messages.
‘hey, where are you?’
‘where you at?’
‘dude where are you?’
‘seriously where are you?’
‘WHERE ARE YOU?’
Those must have come in before he found me, the ones after he found me were worse.
‘we miss you’
‘we love you’
‘we want you’
‘we NEED you’
Disgusted by what I was reading, I chucked my phone back into one of the bags and bit off a piece of the muffin quite viciously.
Okay kittens, thanks for reading. Some feedback would be appreciated. I’d probably update more often if I had the motivation of feedback.
-Sabrina
Wow! Sorry, I stumbled across your blog one day and I saved it, but I'm just reading this post. That story is so familiar, the frustration, the anger, the hurt; it's terrible but seems as though there's no way out of it no matter how far you run. So glad to be at college. sortof. I would like to hear the rest of the story though if you don't mind
ReplyDeleteCheers!
hope things are going well in college