Remembering Summer [COMPLETED]

Mellow Yellow

Mellow Yellow

19th February, 2016

Winter is still going strong, what with the drizzling rain and icy gales, and I feel that the only things that understand me are the trees; feeling cold, bent to half their height and almost toppling over, crushing whatever lies underneath them.

And I guess that's kind of how I feel, always on the edge of something, a break down or depression, I don't really know. I've already fell down once, almost taking out Mom and Dad, but I've been replanted, if there's such a word. The problem is, my roots aren't holding on to the loose dirt as strong as before, and I feel that with a wind strong enough, I might just fall and fly away, leaving behind destruction and broken hearts. Kind of like you did.

But the difference between you and I would be that you went unwillingly, while I have a choice. And for now, I decide to cling on as hard as I can, which isn't as hard as I should be. I just feel that there's nothing left for me to do. Almost all the deadlines for university and college applications have passed, I've lost all contact with the people we used to hang out with daily, and I haven't sat down for dinner with Mom and Dad in almost a month now. All I do is stare at the peach walls of my room, wondering what I'm going to do without you.

I still remember, two summers ago, when we begged Mom and Dad to allow us to repaint our rooms. It was two years after I moved out of our shared room and into my own. It was a decision the both of us took, me moving out of our old room, which is now yours... was yours. We thought about it for about a week and then decided we wanted two rooms, instead of one. Mom was terrified, thinking you and I drifted apart, but all we wanted was a bit more room to personalize. And so I moved out of the pink walls, and into the white walls of my room.

And so we begged and begged all year before freshman year, wanting to paint our rooms. I was bored of the white, and you felt too old to have pink walls. They finally allowed it, and as a family, we went out and bought the paint -white to paint over the pink, and then a mellow yellow for you, and a soft peach for me- and set to work. It was a lot of fun, moving out the furniture, covering the electric sockets and floor and painting for what seemed like days. The whole house smelled like paint for a couple of weeks after, but it was worth it.

I think I'm going to go back to the boring white, anything to stop the constant torture of you. I feel like you're everywhere, but nowhere at once. It's a dizzying feeling.

A few nights ago, Mom was sleep-walking, and she accidently went into my room. She looked at me, and said something that caused my already damaged heart to shatter.
"Summer, is that you?"

And then she came and hugged me, all the while not knowing the destruction she just caused. I shook her, not knowing that it might be harmful to her, and she woke up. Once she saw the tear tracks, she immediately came and hugged me, not knowing what she did, or how she got into my room. She still doesn't know.

I still go to my therapist, but not as frequently. Now they've been reduced to one session every week, and Dad doesn't have to drive me to her anymore on bad days. She said it was "safe" for me now to deal with things my own way, and not talk it out with someone. Frankly, I think that's bull, because she really didn't make much of a difference. I still wake up more often than not wishing I could just sleep my life away, but that's not how life works. No, that would be too easy.

Life just fucking pulls the rug from underneath you, so violently that you can't tell up from down, and then expects you to get up immediately, get that stupid rug underneath you as fast as you can, and move on. Move on. What a stupid phrase. As if your death is just some freak exhibit and the person responsible just tells you to move on because you're holding the line.

Pieces of shit.

I get so angry, but then all of that boiling anger turns into icy numbness or overwhelming grief.

I'd pick the numbness over the grief any day.

-June, a mess of overflowing emotions and at the same time nothing at all