Sometimes You Just Have To

My parents are divorced. Simply put. I can’t avoid it. It’s right there in my face. Every day. It makes up who I am. What I feel. How I view my life: Pointless. Useless. A make-shift human. There’s no reason for me to live, so I don’t know why I don’t kill myself. Something prevents me. I’m not sure what. Something

I’ve had problems for as long as I can remember. Not as many as I used to have when I was younger. I have a lot more now. They all affect me differently. I get these random highs and lows. I do compulsive things all the time. I'm so low for weeks - months on end. I feel like killing myself. I want to die sometimes. I can’t seem to control my actions, and I sometimes feel as if someone else is controlling me. I can’t ever seem to focus. Then, there’s the divorce. Which only adds to my problems. It’s a change. A really big change. It’s hard to deal with change.

I cry a lot. I’m emotionally charged. I’m depressed. I’m angry. I’m frustrated. I’m tired. I’m lonely. I’m compulsive. I’m emotionless. Then, I’m happy. But, for what? Only for seconds, minutes, hours. If I’m lucky, my happiness will last a day. Or two. Never a week. Or a month. I’m even lucky if it lasts a minute.

I don’t exaggerate when I say my life sucks. No one cares about me. Well…Some people do care about me, but those people are never around to care. I miss them. My dad. My brother. They mean everything to me. I need them so badly, but they’re out of my reach. They’re the only ones who I trust, but I feel like I burden them down with all my problems in life, so I don’t say anything. I don’t like burdening others with my sad, pathetic life. They have their own problems. I only add to their stress when I burden them with my problems. So, I don’t say anything. I’m afraid to talk for fear I’ll screw up what I really want to say. I always do. I screw up everything. It’s enough I’ve screwed up my own life, but I’m not going to screw up everyone else’s lives. So, until I get my life right, I just won’t say anything else.

I might never talk again.

It's been six months. Mom has custody over me. She would have custody over Jameson too, if he hadn't run off to college and got his own place to avoid it. I'm alone. Mom and dad went their separate ways. Dad met this really sweet lady named Rachel. I secretly wish she was my mother. Mom has Gavin: My step-dad to be. He has a son: Tyler. My step-brother to be. He's a good-for-nothing-jerk like his dad. Though, I'd never say it. Tyler hates me just as much as I hate him. Gavin is trying to make himself my new dad. It's not happening. Mom seems to love Tyler more than she loves me - her own flesh and blood. I don't care. I don't deserve her love anyway. Pointless. Useless. A make-shift human.

They moved in. Tyler will go to the same school as me. Gavin will be the new 'man of the household' as he likes to call it. Whatever. I'll wake up every day and see Tyler and Gavin in my house. Eating my food. Sitting on my couch. Watching my T.V. They will be a part of my life now - 'whether I like it or not' according to mom. I can't stop it. It's already happened. All I can do is try my best to deal.

I won't say anything.

I haven't spoken for two months. School will start soon. I'll see Ryan for the first time since summer started. Maybe he'll make me feel better. Maybe he won't. All I know is that I want to see him. I've missed him.

Ryan.

He doesn't know anything about the divorce. Or soon to be step-dad to be, or step-brother. I didn't tell him. I was scared about it. At the time, it was only something my parents were discussing. I didn't want it to really happen. Too bad. I still didn't say anything about it. He was so busy with his family and friends down in Florida. Either way, I wouldn't nave said anything.

So, I didn't.

He'll find out. Soon. And he'll be pissed because I didn't say anything. Then, he'll get over it. He'll be fine. I'll be fine. We'll be fine.

Ryan... Ryan... Ryan.

Ryan. He's my best friend. We've been friends for a while now. I can't remember a good memory where he was not in it. I love him so much, like my own brother. Jameson would always tease me about him, saying silly things like we were the perfect couple and we would someday fall in love and have kids. Jameson would say that Ryan liked me. Whatever. I knew he didn't. He was just my friend… My best friend… My only friend.