Lana feels

I wasn't going to let this bother me. I was going to be angry and the anger was going to cover the hurt and then somehow I was sobbing in Cesca's arms once again and the righteous how-dare-she anger had just disappeared. Flown out the window. And all that was left was tears and hurt. I cleaned my room today, furiously and whirlwind-style. May have done the room more harm than good but it kept me distracted for a while. Then I went to dinner and my mind wandered and I attempted to tell the story of the loss of our friendship and I just ended up sobbing. It was ridiculous today, while I was cleaning. There are so many of her things in my room. I put them all in a pile on my bed to give back to her, and then I started finding all the things of mine that she's given me and putting them on the pile too. The valentine, the notes that went with my birthday present (from your one and only bear), her picture on my wall. But I have a bunch of pictures of her, and a couple that she drew for me last year, and the window hanging and the cloak, things I don't want to give back. And it was around that time that I realized just how funny this all is. Funny in a way that almost made me cry, but funny. That our friendship, which first started going sour when the school at large labeled us a couple, should end with me cleaning her shit out of my room as if we were a couple that had broken up, strikes me as funny. All the complications of a romantic relationship and none of the fun. It still hurts. Hurts that I don't matter enough to her, hurts that I still care about her after everything, just fucking hurts. I wrote her a letter, which is sitting on top of the pile of her shit and which I may or may not give to her when I give it all back and demand the return of various necklaces and other bits and pieces of my things that she has. It says...

What did you think, Amanda, that I wouldn't get it? Not everybody is as stupid as you assume. I love(d) you, you mean(t) a lot to me, though never in the way that even you seemed to believe. I can't care this much and have it thrown back in my face every second that we're together. I don't have the energy to play that game. Don't go congratulating yourself on your great triumph - you're such a child.

That's all I can remember, though I suspect there may have been more. I didn't sign it, just folded it and sealed it with a sticker. I hate emotions. I don't know how I feel right now - hurt, sad, used, angry, betrayed all come to mind. I hate crying. I hate how messy it is and how my eyes get red afterwards and how people touch me. They mean to be comforting but mostly they end up making me uncomfortable. Not Cesca. She just holds me and she gets it and she tells me it's all right and I trust her, implicitly, so with her it's a good thing, but other people... I hate crying, I hate being vulnerable, I hate letting people see how much it hurts. They're all so kind about it, too, in their own ways. Kelly hugs me and Pekay tells me not to be ashamed of it and Cesca's an angel but I hate dripping all over everything and losing control and letting things get to me. I hate that those things bother me, too. I just hate the whole experience. Having Roo look into my eyes and ask me what's wrong and my only response is to ask her if she's ever heard the expression "to look like you've lost your best friend" because that's what I feel like. Luckily for me, I've lost the best friend I can better do without, but it still hurts. Hurt and vulnerable and teary. Dealing, though. So add strength to that list. Dealing in ways that are healthy, that are razor-blade free, because after all, that's what started this, Mandy threatening to cut herself if I didn't provide her with an alternative source of escapism. And also because I know too well how little that helps. Instead I cleaned my room, and fumed, and cried in Cesca's arms at dinner when I just couldn't take it anymore. And did makeup biology work for two hours. The year is almost over. I will make it through. Amanda can go fuck herself. I am so sick of this high school bullshit. One more year. Give me strength.