Bipolar.

24 4 4
                                    

August 30.

  It's been a few weeks now,  a few weeks of living in limbo. I feel incomplete, torn between two desires. The voices are louder now and it's getting so much harder to tell which one is mine. I thought the emptiness would fade, it was a monsters baby why is it tearing me apart. I haven't slept a full night sleep since. I sit in my room the clock rounding three a.m. staring out the window at the rain as it pounds from the sky bouncing off the cars. I contemplate if I'm just losing my mind going crazy and not depressed. That would make more sense I shouldn't feel so lost, right? Harry's still here but not here. He's gotten a job and his own place to live which has made me feel abandoned, although I have no place in feeling that way. He wants me there but I don't go. I know that he couldn't just sit in this tiny little dorm forever but.. I think I expected him to. I have come to the conclusion that I may have some abandonment issues. And I think they go much deeper than Harry needing to support himself(and me in a lot of ways). My mom didn't want me, that's why she just up and left me on the door step of another family that truly didn't care to have me around. My dad couldn't care less that I was his daughter and might have needed guidance. I think all I learned from him was to drink away my problems and my feelings.     Once I found Harry I thought he would be the one to save me but then he left. So all in all when you sit down and ponder this maybe it's me. Maybe I'm the problem.
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I close the book. Sliding into my bed I chose to sleep for the few hours I have left. Closing my eyes I can tell this won't be a peaceful slumber I can see my mothers face before I drift into oblivion.
I'm eight, looking at myself from above I look homeless. She wouldn't brush my hair she wouldn't dress me it was all up to me, and I was eight so. She put me on a plane in tears I didn't want to go I didn't even know him.
"Mommy please I want to stay with you." I pleaded with her on a constant historical loop with no avail.
"Harlow you need to have a father in your life I can't , I just can't anymore." She stated point blank with no emotion what so ever. As I stepped off the plane I expected to see my dad but he wasn't there instead his wife whom I had met once before was there looking bored. That was the start to this life that was the first time I felt numb and the first time I felt really alone. That was also the last day I ever saw my mother.

I wake to the constant vibration of my phone alarm at six am. I have a full day of classes today and after I'm going to try and find a job. I by pas the shower today just sliding my tattered jeans up my legs and tossing a hoodie over my bra. Looking in the mirror my hair is in a pile of rats nests on top of my head and the circles under my eyes aren't fading in the slightest.
"Oh well" I tell myself.
My first class starts at seven fifteen, buts it's across campus so I slip my feet in my black converse and grab my book bag. I take the steps two at a time, to save time.as I reach the bottom I see him waiting right outside the glass doors.he is here everyday to walk with me to my first class no matter the time. I see him before he sees me, and I stop to admire him from a small distance. The temperature is starting to cool down, especially in the early mornings and after the sun falls. He is perched up against one of the building pillars. Eyes transfixed on the sidewalk, hands shoved into his tighter than mine black pants. Torso clad in a hoodie and plaid jacket combo. His curls spilling over his brow line as he furrows them at the ground. I stare taking in every detail that is until I notice his stare has moved from the ever so interesting sidewalk and locked on to mine. His serious look turns to a telling smirk radiating cockiness.  Knowing full well he caught me checking him out I smile as best I can, and continue my short walk to him.

  "You know love it's not polite to stare."
He comments as I reach him.

"Rubbish"
I mock him in my ridiculous attempt at an accent.
"You look like shit low, do you own a brush ?"
He continues to be an ass.

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