well, here we are. May the fourth. which is national star wars day. May the forth be with you. . . it is silly, and 'pun'ny. I rather enjoy it. and I am sick so I slept all day and panicked when I woke up and saw it was dark out. I thought I might have failed in my self imposed blogging adventure. don't worry, I didn't. I am writing this at 9:56. and it is still star wars day.
Yet another side effect of my being ill this evening is that I do not feel like writing or talking to people (sorry mike and heather, I will converse with you when my head stops spinning). That makes writing a decent length blog post (yes I realise yesterday's was not very great) very difficult so I am going to copy and paste a chapter from Things You Can't Say into this lovely blog post for you reading enjoyment. I am not sure why I chose this one, but here it is.

I forget how to breathe almost a mile away from the house. As soon as we pass the Jr. High a flood of memories comes rushing into my brain as a dam breaks somewhere in the back of my head. We turn onto the street and the flood turns into a monsoon, tearing away every other though and leaving nothing but broken memories filled with terror and pain, tears mixed with blood, screams mingling themselves with cries.

Why was I doing this to myself? Holly had been right. What was this going to prove? How was it going to help? What, was I trying to prove that Tristan was wrong, that he could have come to find me? I already knew that. Did I want to see him? I wasn’t sure if I did any more, and even if I did, what was I going to do? Knock on the front door? If I was stupid enough to do that the best I could hope for would be for Paul to put a bullet through my head the second he saw me. Whatever my reasons were, I would be stupid to follow through. I should just turn around now.

Even as I have the thought I know I’m not going to listen to logic, even when it is coming from me. So I keep walking and the closer we get the more my mind is screaming that this was going to be bad for me. Between the torrent of memories clouding my mind with a red haze, my lungs shriveling out of existence, and the wave of tears that I am trying to keep from spilling I am not sure how I hear Holly.

“Hilary? Are you okay? We can turn around and go back to school if you want too. You don’t have to do this.” We round the corner while she talks and the second the house comes into view it is all I can see.

My vision blurs with tears and Holly’s words don’t matter, all I can hear is Paul’s voice, yelling at me. It’s my fault. No one loves me. I’m stupid. I did it wrong. I’m in trouble. Always in trouble because I did it wrong. What’s wrong with me? Tristan come here . . . you need to learn a lesson. I’m in the dark. In the dark because I am in trouble. It is my fault. Shut up. Nothing I can do. Never right. My fault. Tristan. Pain. Hate. Shut up. My fault. Dark.