Sunday, October 7, 2012

I'm 18, But Who Cares.


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   Today is my 18th birthday, and I am not celebrating. I don't want cake, I don't want presents, I just want to rewind the clock and pretend last night never happened.
  I'm trying hard not to turn this is into a rant, but that's about all I have to say. It all started yesterday before we went to the haunted house in Niles. My best friend (Angelle) and I were making caramel apples, enjoying a dreary fall afternoon. Our plans were to meet up with her Ex (Randal), my friend, a good friend (Tyler), and the girl Randal was interested in. If you know teenage drama, Angelle and Randal were predestined to but heads. Any time you throw a new girl in the picture, it goes to hell. Which it did, fast. They began to bicker, and I had a melt down. It was MY birthday, my 18th. I'd give the shirt of my back for ANYONE, even my enemies. Yet, these people I call my friends couldn't put up with one another for one night. I'm pretty sure I screamed a lot of foul language at them. Can you blame me? They calmed down enough after, that I pleasantly enjoyed the Scream Park. Which A) Was not scary. B) Was not worth 20$. So even that wasn't THAT amazing. I fell asleep in the car ride home, and woke groggily at Jon's house, David tapping on my windshield. Cranky and very sleepy, I got out to see my friend ignoring me, once again, even though he swore he wouldn't. Since his best friend Randal was here, he would have rather spent his time. Which was fine, but I wasn't going to sit there quietly. I confronted him on the ride to his house to get blankets, ( we were going camping.) He didn't take it well at all. He punched the steering wheel and preceded to call me a bi-polar b*#$!&.  What did I do to him? Nothing. I loved with a monster. One whose true colors shown when I needed his warmth most. Sobbing I jumped out of the car, and filled my hands with tears while I walked to Kelly's bowling alley. Eventually, he came back. He called me a few more hurtful things, explaining even though I was "ungrateful" and " mean", that we all have flaws. My brain, being full of love for this person, accepted it. When you care about someone, it doesn't matter how they treat you. You just crave every breath you take, will be filled with compassion. That every hug will heal the scars that your heart has to carry. He was my best guy friend, so I chose to try to finish the night off. After 15 minutes we were at the camping destination, my tears still flowing. It was like a broken faucet. I felt awkward and uncomfortable   To make matter's worse Randal's girl, started calling me weak and getting upset at me for being emotional. Well excuse me for having a heart. In this day in age, I guess numbness is respected. Being floored she and the others marched into the woods. Following behind, my crush held my hand tightly. Something was off. Very off.
   It was pouring and 40 degrees down by the river bend. Everyone but Angelle and I were setting up camp. We were cold, wet, and completely miserable. Trying to keep everyone happy, I kindly asked my crush's for his keys. With no issue, he gave it to me. The others yelling at me for being a wimp. Again, did everyone forget it was my birthday? Angelle and I walked up a long hill, just wanting to sleep. It was almost 2:30 a.m. and the past night I was up til dawn. My body was in crash mode.
  Once in the car, I called my friend, and asked if I could drive his car to take Angelle home. He was not listening and took it as "I'm stealing your car." I NEVER SAID THAT. I'd never take his car. Randal's girl ran up the hill and started banging like a mad man on the window. She was threatening us, saying she'd beat us up, and she'll call the cops if we drive off. I kept calm, but Angelle started to freak out. It's not normal for your so called friends to act like maniacs. So I don't blame her for starting to cry. My friend came up to the car next, also believing we were trying to steal it. First off, it wasn't turned on. Nor was I laying up right. So you readers tell me how I was stealing a car. I opened the door, and tried to talk to him, but he came in swinging. My mind screamed panic mode as I threw my phone to Angelle. I said call the cops, this was turning brutal. He was choking me and hitting my face, while trying to knock the phone out of her hand. At one point I bit his hand so hard he backed up, cringing. Leaping and sobbing, I ran away. Calling the police, until he again came after me. All hell had broken loose and I wasn't shocked. I can't say this boy hasn't done this before, I'd be lying.
  When then say on dumb infomercials and books about how abused people learn to except it, they weren't lying. You get use to being on edge, feeling like it's your fault, keeping the hurt to yourself. Not today. Not anymore. Angelle is my rock, and you don't mess with her. You can smash my head in, call me insults, but don't ever come after her. My friend calmed down, and I talked him out of his anger delirium. Just enough to take us home.
  Today I have a fat lip, and swollen eyes, and I haven't cried this much since my grandfather's funeral. I'm 18 today. So many years ago, my mother gave birth to a strong, beautiful, baby girl. 7 pounds, 3 ounces.
  Today I sit bruised and lethargic, waiting on that text I will never get. Excepting the grounding my parents gave me from not coming home earlier. And debating what life choices I made these 18 years that have put me here. Maybe I loved to strongly, with higher expectations than my reality would allow? Perhaps, I settled for less than my best? Nothing is certain anymore. Do I still have feelings for that boy? I'm too dazed and on pain meds to tell. To any girl out there, who has someone in their lives that is physically abusive. YOU DESERVE BETTER. You really do. I know that you love them. No one should ever doubt that. But love isn't reciprocated with black eyes, and scratches, and harsh insults. I am not perfect, readers. I'm just a young adult who believes in the good of people. If my parents don't press charges, I'm not sure what will happen to him. It'll take a lot to change my opinions. As for my friends, I'm disappointed, and I'll leave it at that. The taste of iron in my mouth is a constant reminder of who really deserves to be in my life.
Happy birthday to me.

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