Day 16

I woke up about six times to my alarm, to text messages, to the cold, to Saber barking, to the pounding headache and swollen eyes and throbbing throat. Saturday morning, and I was sick. More than sick, I was weak. Weak, trembling, throbbing. I felt like I had the strept that Landy had come down with. I kept going back to sleep... waking up, and going back to sleep.... trying to drown the symptoms with sleep. But the sleep wasn't restful and I'd wake up even more exhausted, headache even worse, feeling even weaker. I could barely lift my phone. My blanket was crushing my chest. My hair was wet and sweet with sweat, the back collar of my Levi's tee soaked as well. I rolled over and my stomach heaved with cramps. My legs were cramping up too, and I tried to flex my muscles but it left me breathless and trembling like a newborn fawn. Holy cow.
Around five pm I finally drug myself out of bed, only because Kayla would be home soon to Facetime Dre and I wanted her to have the space and quiet and privacy. I had huge, black rings around my eyes. Despite the consant suntanning, and I looked like someone had punched me. My hair was flat and sickly, too. My clothes hung off my body, a mix of bones and stubborn fat pockets. I stared at myself in the mirror and never felt more disallusioned. Of course you left me.
I touched my cheeks. Sun spot, born from the tanning. They reminded me of your freckles.... your sweet, angelic, boyish freckles. Mine were not so sweet and wonderful. They looked like even more blemishes on a face that would never be perfect, never be pretty enough.
I was so cold that I could barely dress. The jean skirt burned against my skin as I pulled it on, and the straps of my cami cut into my collarbone. The loose tunic was the only thing that felt gentle on my body, but provided no warmth. I cursed myself for the gazillionth time for not packing warmer clothes for break. Where was the warmth?! It had disappeared whever your love had gone...... into oblivion. I wrapped the shimmery gold scarf my mom had gotten me from Hungary around my torso and felt a little warmer, then struggled into the grey Bershka coat. My favorite coat, my "me" coat from that long winter alone in Kharkov. I was so un color coordinated it was ridiculous, but i didn't have anything warm that matched.
I pulled my hair into a loose bun and locked the door on my way out, not even sure where my makeup bag was, definitely not caring. My heart was so numb. Who would see me? Who would care?
I didn't know where to go.
I tried two car washes so I could send dad nice pictures of the car, but they were both closed. What in the world? It was saturday for crying out loud. I didn't want to drive far, I had such a limited supply of funds for gas. It was so cold, I didn't want to pull over and sit in the cold car.... I didn't want to go anywhere to eat.... I finally drove to chinese and then got a milkshake at chic fil A. I was supposed to be saving money but hey... who cares? I hadn't blown money on food in so long.
My milk shake spilled all over the inside of the car. I didn't have any napkins. I stared at the sticky, ooey avalanche and tried to suppress the trembling rage. Why did I even blow the money?!
I drove to Panera Bread because I had nowhere else to go.
I drove Hannah crazy in the drive through. She couldn't explaid the difference between the Thai and the Asian. I finally pulled up to the minute and everyone came to see who it was when she began throwing straws at me in livid relief. Seeing them all pile in the window, laughing and smiling to see me, I felt a huge sadness, a huge peace, a mess. Mary, Kendon, Gabby, Hannah, Daniella, Halle.... all these amazing people. There is where I belonged.
I pulled in, and walked into the warm and wonderful work of Brixton Square. Why hadn't I come directly here? The fire place was crackling. I grabbed a table and got myself a free soda, a free coffee, and then a free cinnamin roll. Everyone wanted to talk to me. I was coughing and my voice was raspy. Gabby had a big hug for me. Halle had just broken it off with her SWBC boyfriend. May wanted to talk about the GoldenDale puppy she found in the paper. Kendon just smiled and waved.
Mary said Dutch hadn't showed up. Again. Poor kid, I had liked him. We sat down and had a nice manager talk. I loved the feeling of being one of the parents here. I felt so old. It was odd.
I told her about you calling my dad, and I barely got out three words and she went crazy.
That means he still cares! Why else would he care about what your dad thinks? He knows that if he is ever going to have a chance with you again, he has to keep that door open!
I just looked at her, aching. Don't you understand? He just wants to feel like a perfect Christian. He doesn't want me anymore.
We talked about God's timing, God's goodness, and the upcoming easter holiday. The store was slow and I was so happy to be here, if happy was a possible feeling. Daniella kept my coffee full. I got out the newspapers, and my Bible, and opened my computer so I could see your sweet face and the last note you left me, and I had my new kind of Saturday, without you in it.

When I opened my Bible and flipped through it, I ended up at 2 Sam 13:15-19. It felt so much like us that I blinked back tears of hurt, of anger, of deadness. "Then Amnon hated her exceedingly; so that the hatred wherewith he hated her was greater than the love wherewith he had loved her. And Amnon said unto her, Arise, be gone. And she said unto him, There is no cause: this evil in sending me away is greater than the other that thou didst unto me. But he would not hearken unto her. Then he called his servant that ministered unto him, and said, Put now this woman out from me, and bolt the door after her. And she had a garment of divers colours upon her: for with such robes were the king's daughters that were virgins apparelled. Then his servant brought her out, and bolted the door after her. And Tamar put ashes on her head, and rent her garment of divers colours that was on her, and laid her hand on her head, and went on crying."
Be gone..... the evil in sending me away is greater.... she went on crying... he hated her greater than he loved her.
I kept turning the pages. This might be the story right now, but I wish it wouldn't be the story forever. Somehow, in the middle of my apathy, I still long to have a different story. Even though i may never be able to forgive you anymore....
I ended up in I Cor 7: 10-11, 14, 17, 20, 23-24
"And unto the married I command, ye not I, but the Lord, Let not the wife depart from her husband: But and if she depart, let her remain unmarried or be reconciled to her husband: and let not the husband put away his wife....  [you're never supposed to walk away] For the unbelieving husband is sanctified by the wife, and the unbelieving wife is sanctified by the husband: else were your children unclean, but now are they holy.... [because God can do bigger things when we are together] But as God hath distribututed to every man, as the Lord hath called every one, so let him walk. And so ordain I in all churches... let every man abide in the same calling wherein he was called... [walk in the same calling wherein we are called. there is no changing of God's will, just changing of our deceitful hearts... just Satan, not God] For he that is called in the Lord, being a servant, is the Lord's freeman: likewise also he that is called, being free, is the Lord's servant. you are bought with a price: be not yet the servants of men. Brethren, let every man, wherein he is called, therein abide with God. [abide, walk, in that calling. it's an active choice. it's a command.]"

Does it even matter? You left me. I'm alone tonight.
Like I told Kayla, the hardest moments are when I realized the reality that you aren't off by yourself. You're actively living in a life that purposely excludes me. You are choosing to be happy without me, and you are. You have a new life. New friends. You are probably hanging out with them tonight, you aren't just sitting in your dorm all alone. Probably listening to music, kicking it back, rolling around in Santanna, laughing it up, living it up, talking girlfriends, talking summer plans, your new clothes and hairstyles, your new heroes, how spiritual you all are, your sermons, who you're going to hang out with on Sunday who is going to ride with who, who is going where to eat, where everyone is going for easter sunday.

And I?
I sit here alone at Panera Bread. working on this stupid journal that no one, no one, never ever ever will ever read.
trying to pray.
trying to breathe without hurting.
trying to keep warm.
trying to do some homework.
trying to help out my store and do the Z-Rack.
trying to spend the last few minutes of spring break with any purpose at all.

But there is no purpose. Whether I sit here, go home, or just disappear into the black city night outside, there is no purpose.
Not for me.