"Dad asked me a weird question at dinner yesterday that's been bugging me. He asked me if the summer was boring for me. That's never been an issue before, and it hadn't even really crossed my mind. But the more I think about it, the more I think he may be onto something. I'm bored. Not as crazy as I was during February break, but still pretty sick of the same day-in day-out shit. And my evil insomnia is
not helping. There's really only so much one can do with her time. I want this summer to end and RIT to begin. Wow, I can't believe I said, "I want the summer to end." I must be going out of my mind. I mean, it's not that I'm not happy, it's just... I'm bored. Even biking doesn't really help that much. Again, there's only so many places to go. Me, loner to the extreme, craves social contact. I'm lonely and bored and I miss Stephen and Wilson with an aching vengence. I haven't seen Stephen since before graduation. The only friends I've seen at all, in fact, are Mysti and Ahmed. I miss people. People in general. I miss waking up every morning knowing I'll see hundreds of friendly faces. I miss DVC. I miss the safety and security of the Wilson hallways. I miss everyone I knew. I miss my mom and brother. I miss all my teachers. I miss the administrators and sentries and counselors. I even miss the people I didn't really know. Damn, I would give the world for just one in Wilson. One more day of routine with all the people I care about around me. I never knew I could get this lonely."
--Excerpt from
Summer Journal 2008, Wednesday - 7/16/2008
I wrote this two weeks ago, and since then, I have had more contact, and I have seen Stephen (for those of you who don't know, he's my boyfriend)... but I'm still lonely. Most of what I said then still applies. I've found myself here, now, awake at 4:30AM, looking at my friend's photos on facebook, looking at the good times they've had this summer, and crying. I know it's pathetic. And I know I have no right to complain about being out of high school; I was the one who made the choice to graduate early. So I have no one to blame but myself. But even if I hadn't graduated, wouldn't I still be in this same predicament? The summer happens whether you are still in high school or not. And as I said in my previous post,
raison d'etre, friends are my reason for living. I have been going a bit crazy this summer, cooped up here, alone most of the time. And even when my dad and step-mom are here, it's not the same as being around friends. I've only known them for about eight months. Things are still a bit awkward at times. Oh well. When I get like this, I write. And you, kind reader, get to see the outcome of this.
I mentioned how I went bat-shit insane over February break in the excerpt from the journal, and I feel that needs better explaination. During this past February break (2008), I got so extremely stir-crazy, I scared even myself. I don't know exactly why I got that way, but all I know is I badly wanted to just get on a bus and go to the middle of nowhere for a few days. That break was right smack-dab in the middle of
Ayreon, so it's well documented. I just thought I'd share with you some of my crazed ranting from that week:
"I JUST NEED TO FUCKING GET AWAY! But I fucking can't. I can't even ask. How could I, anyway? I know what the answer will be already: "No. I'm responsible for you, and you're a minor. If anything happened to you, it would be on my head. You could be hurt or kidnapped, and no one would be there to help you. You also need to be supervised..." WHY THE FUCK DO MINORS HAVE NO FUCKING RIGHTS?! And I know he'd be thinking, 'what if she never comes back?' I have no way of showing them, proving to them I'd come back, other than my word. Trust is still being built. Now is not the time to test it..."
--Excerpt from
Ayreon Rant 2008, Thursday - 2/21/2008, Day Twenty-Five: Disappear
"It's 7AM. I've been up all night, planning a possible getaway - take a bus from Farm Park to Java's, and spend the day there. So, I looked up everything I needed. Bus 7 leaves Farm Park at 7:21AM, arriving at Main+Clinton at 7:55. It's about a two-block walk to Java's from there, a short walk. It's just as easy on the return. So, I asked Dad. Yes, I finally stood up and asked him. And was promptly reminded why I shouldn't get my hopes up enough to ask. He said, "No... I just... don't feel comfortable about this... the bus, the walk, sitting in a cafe alone... no." I stayed chipper around him, thanking him for at least considering, but inside, my heart was torn out. I fucking need to punch something right now. Why the fuck do minors have no rights? Why can't dad trust me to take care of myself? Today will be just what I thought it would be - another day of me just sitting around, writing. Another waste. Another 24 hours defined by the number of pages I get written. I'm fucking trapped in a fucking prison. So here I am, crying, pathetic, and hopeless. And the saddest thing is, I should have seen this coming..."
--Excerpt from
Ayreon Rant 2008, Friday - 2/22/2008, Day Twenty-Six: Hopeless
A lot has changed since then. For one thing, my dad has given me a
lot more freedom. He now trusts me to go places on my own: by bus, by bike, and on foot. Hell, he's the one who got me my bike. It was his graduation gift to me. It just took time to build that trust. Another thing that's changed is actually best shown through something I wrote back in June:
"...In fact, the freedom is refreshing. Although, a lot of stuff that's happened to me over the last few days (as well as over the last few months) has got me thinking: wow, holy shit, I've grown up. Here I am, on my own, drinking coffee and sitting outside Arnett library, waiting for it to open... but, most of all, it's the thoughts that crossed my mind that made me realize that I'd grown up. As I was walking from Stephen's to Arnett, I was thinking, "Wow. seven months ago, if I had seventeen some-odd dollars and four hours in which no one could possibly know I was missing, and ten hours before anyone would probably realize it; if I had money and time and was near downtown, I'd skip town and never come back." Now, the last thing I'd do would be to skip town. I am home; I am happy. I have freedom, therefore I don't abuse it. I have the kind of freedom that is my dad drops me off at my boyfriend's house before 7AM and trusts me to make my way to my exam on time and be safe and then take a bus downtown to get myself my work permit and then take a bus to Farm Park and walk home, keeping in communication with him at a few points so he knows I'm okay. Every part of that, from Stephen's, to transportation, to work permit, to communication - these are all my freedoms. And that is my plan for the day. And it's all been not only approved, but encouraged by Dad..."
--Excerpt from
Summer Journal 2008, Tuesday - 6/17/2008
Wow, I've rambled. And got really off topic. Oh well. I guess the best way to sum this whole post up is: I miss everyone.
So, yeah - if you find yourself awake during the wee hours of the night and want someone to talk to, I'm here. You can call me or message me anytime of the day or night. Honestly, I'd love the company. The worst that could happen is you just don't reach me.