Wednesday, June 2
“I am happy.”
“See, that wasn’t so hard.”
“I guess.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean I can say I’m a turtle but it doesn’t mean I am actually a turtle.”
“Wha-oh I’m very sorry dear times up! I’ll see you soon and we will continue this conversation.”
Having a therapist is quite hilarious in my opinion. I’m sitting in a little room with a complete stranger! If it was my choice I wouldn’t even have one. She sits there watching the clock glancing more frequently at it than me.
At age 12 I was diagnosed with insomnia, a year later I got diagnosed with bipolar disorder. I personally don’t like to be classified by those names and refuse to take the medications they’re continuously shoving in my face. It’s shallow of them, I strongly believe it’s more for the promotion of their industries than the well being of the people.

Friday, June 4
“My name is Jo by the way.”
“Well Jo, it’s been very splendid to meet you.”
His name was Levi. As words fell out of his mouth they were placed so beautifully in sequence that I was dumbfounded. I’ve never met anyone remotely similar to him. Levi was very skinny, his eyes struck me as little oceans placed upon his perfectly framed face. He has sandy blonde hair that he was constantly pushing out of his eyes. Odd to look at but also quite pleasing to see.

Saturday, June 5
“Are you sure you’re alright?”
“Yeah, it happens all of the time.”
Levi’s nose started bleeding tonight. Quite a lot actually, at first it seemed normal but now it’s starting to worry me. Something caught me off guard tonight about him. At first I took it as”oh his eyes are just red”, but then he started to act weird. As soon as the little dribble of blood fell from his nose I got suspicious.

Monday, June 7
“I don’t know what to say.”
“I know, I’m sorry.”
Levi is addicted to heroin. I guess I expected him to be honest but I don’t know. He told me that he’s gone into rehab multiple times. His parents both packed up and left as soon as he turned 16. No one has any idea where they went but he lives with his aunt and she is a huge drug addict. Now I’m not one to judge...I just don’t want him to get into trouble or even worse, overdose.
People tend to accuse me of doing drugs. Whenever I say I’ve never even smoked weed they laugh so dryly that it makes me cringe. It’s typical for people to do that type of thing now days. Drugs and sex are the two most common topics; I go to sit with a group of my friends and that’s what they talk about. We don’t really talk much anymore though. After the incident everyone looks at me strange.
My mom was addicted to meth, probably still is. She started doing it when I was only a year old. Once my dad found out, he left her.He took me with and I have never seen her. My dad(Floyd), burned all the pictures we had of her. There had to be more than just her using drugs, but that is a mystery of the world I may never know.

Sunday, June 20
“Where is Levi?”
“We don’t know.”
Three very different emotions took over me that day. First there was worry, soon after sadness, and now all I can be is angry. Furious actually! More at myself than him, I should’ve expected this. You can’t count on people who are addicted to something. They will always put that first.

Thursday, July 1
“I’m not talking to you today.”
“Why not? A few weeks ago I said we were going to talk about what you said.”
“That sounds like your problem, not mine.”
“Please?”
“No.”
As I sat in her office I realized how much little things bother me. The way she had that petty look on her face, how the clock ticked at an unsteady beat, when the couch sunk too far down and I wanted to crawl out of my skin. This is such a waste of time. Time ticked on and we continued to sit in silence, although there were frequent clicks on her computer from her typing. When 2 o’clock finally rolled around I rushed out the doors.

Saturday, July 3
“Where am I?”
“You’re in the hospital.”
“Wh-wait I don’t even want to know. Just let me go.”
Well I really don’t understand what the big deal is. I probably passed out and my roommate just overreacted, again. As I turned my head a huge wave of pain cascaded over me. Before I blacked out I remember thinking of a poem that I came up with last Thursday as I walked out of the building.

Purple no brighter than the palest of stone against the most radiant of reds never stood a chance.
One drop turned into millions and one cough turned into a choke caused by the thickness. Tingling in the backs of the eyes until the world turned into a swirl of black.
Never to see the palest of purples or the brightest of reds.

Sunday, July 4
“Who are you?”
“Aw, sweetie, I’m your mother.”
This can’t be true. This must be some sick joke. Am I dreaming? She resembled me in a weird way. Our smiles are the same, although I haven’t been smiling lately. They let her take me out of the hospital. We drove for what seemed like forever. As we pulled into a driveway I recognized it. I’ve seen baby pictures of me and my father outside of this house. She still lives here, oh my god.

Monday, July 5
“Stop looking at me like that!”
“Stubborn and very demanding, just like your father.”
Her name is Ann. Don’t get me wrong she’s very kind but I just don’t want to be here.  The look in her eyes is pity, and nothing but pity. Flooring, walls, furniture, her clothes, everything reeked like drugs.
She brought me a piece of cherry pie. There were no words spoken but I knew she didn’t expect me to eat it. I did, it was extremely good. As I was practically inhaling the pie I heard the door slam. I slowly set the pie down, got up and looked around. No one was there! I fell to the floor, and I screamed with burning tears falling down my rosy cheeks.
“EVERYONE LEAVES.”

Thursday, July 9
“I’m doing much better now.”
“Are you taking your medications?”
“Certainly am.”
Everyday that goes by is making me feel less and less human. I feel myself changing with every breath I take. Laughing, smiling, crying, speaking, it’s all become nothing but a task. I don’t even do any of those things anymore, robot feeling. These medications must eat at my thoughts because I’m not thinking, I just do. I should probably stop taking them.
Later:
As I walked down the abandoned streets on this shady afternoon I realized everything goes away. My mother left as quickly as she appeared and I haven’t been contacted by my father ever since my mom showed up. Levi disappeared into the drug filled streets. I have no friends, I have acquaintances but nothing secure.
While I slowly struggled to move forward the world seemed to move faster. No matter how badly I wanted to deny it the world was never going to stop for anyone. The cars flowed in such a calming rhythm down the highway. I’m not quite sure where I’m headed but I’m quite sure I’ll be alright.

Sunday, July 12
“Do you come here often?”
“Well of course! If I could be anywhere it would be here.”
When I walked to the little park with my favorite swing, I saw a young man sitting in it. Slowly I turned around to get away from there when he approached me. Asking if I wanted that swing because he had went there at 11 o’clock last night and has been there ever since. I may remind you that it is three in the morning now. When I asked what he was doing here he said that he goes there to clear his mind. Giving me a look as if to say I’m sure you’re here for the same reason.
The back and forth motion of the swing moving at this constant pace is soothing. I never caught the name of this man but he may have possibly been the most down to earth person I've ever met. We talked about nonsense. It was better than any session of therapy I’ve ever had. Two strangers connecting in a world where we only are able to talk through screens is extremely amazing!
He told me that he works at the diner on the corner as a chef-it reminded me of Ann’s pie. As the sun came up his eyes shifted from that blackish color to a golden one. He took off his hat and light brown hair tied up in a bun was revealed. The last thing he said to me was “Kid, you could fly if you tried.” This didn’t make any sense to me at the time but as I walked away I felt at ease. Maybe there are truly pleasant people out there, you just stumble upon them in the oddest of ways. He opened my eyes, my mind.

Tuesday, July 14
“I am happy.”
“It’s because of your medicine.”
“No.”
“Of course it is.”
“I don’t take it anymore.”
“You can’t just stop taking it! You need to continue taking it.”
“No, I’m sorry but I don’t. I also don’t need therapy. Thank you for your efforts though. It was very nice meeting you.”
I left that little room with the sagging couch and the off beat clock. I left the small building on the edge of the lifeless street with no one on the road. I left the town on the side of depressing and clouds. I left the state of rain and shivers. I left the country with obese children and dieting ads. I left the world with false logics and odd people. I left the world with complete and utter clarity. With that, I flew.

“Hello Levi, we thought we should tell you because she wrote a letter about you. It fell out of her pillowcase while we were cleaning out her room. If you don’t mind me asking what did you think of Jo and her condition?”
“Pass…”
Jo was a lovely young woman. Her long hair always tangled in curls because she never wanted to brush it, but the blonde was always sun kissed. When you saw her eyes in the light everything became clear. She had much potential to do amazing things. Although, she fell short. There were so many things she had reflected on with her pain in the short while that I knew her. Even though she may have not known it she carried a lot of baggage. She was a mystery that I never got to solve. We were never in love and never had a love story, but god we could have. Pieces of us fit together so well that we were practically the same person, just different gender.
Most days I watched her read, she always had a book in her hand. She was so intelligent, even though she was young she already knew so much. Most people saw her as odd but I wasn’t most people. I saw her as beautiful, the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. One of the conversations I had with Jo was about her feelings, when I accidentally got caught up in her writings. She yelled at me for a long time before bursting out in tears and explaining. Or at least trying to because I am not her and I do not understand how it feels.
She said that dealing with this monster in your head every second of every day was too hard. How she saw herself as normal and would then think “but this isn’t normal”, then overthink that. When she couldn’t sleep and she would get so frustrated that she would scream and jump on her bed. Screaming for the world to please take it away. There was this weight that she would often put into her writings, I never knew what it meant I always thought that maybe she had an eating disorder. I was completely wrong with that theory. Jo told me it was her baggage, the weight of this mental disorder that she can never get rid of because she will always carry it with her.
There were these mood swings that would deathly terrify me. You never saw them coming! She would be sitting on the couch in my house perfectly content and then get angry for no apparent reason. It’s terrible and must be horrible to live with. Jo would turn into a completely different person. I could handle her yelling much better than when she got sad. Her sadness was the worst, she would lay in her dark bedroom the entire day and when someone would walk in she wouldn’t say a word.
At times I would wake up and catch her writing. She has this window sill in her room that she would crawl up onto with her fuzzy blanket and black journal. Scribbling away at hours that most people aren’t awake to see. The moon would catch her face and I couldn’t help but stare. She would usually catch me and come back to bed at those times, with embarrassment. Jo said her favorite hours were from one in the morning until four. She loved the nighttime and even when she would sleep she always managed to wake up to see the stars. One thing that really struck me about her was that she loved color blind people, she thought they got to see the truth. Now I never really understood this but I always thought it was an amazing thought.
We were never really together together if you know what I mean but it was something. She stayed with me for about two weeks. I think she trusted me the moment she met me. Choosing drugs over my life was wrong of me. Hurting her like that wasn’t my plan but I’m a sick person.

“Here’s the letter I mentioned.”

My dearest Levi,
I have no right to be upset with you, none at all. You weren’t bound to me and we hardly knew each other. Even though you could’ve warned me to not get attached because it’s been a month now and I am still not over our little thing. Pathetic really. You were this amazing person who popped into my life. I trusted you and was comfortable around you, you betrayed that. Levi, you can have any girl you want. So I came up with the theory that you have a lovely garden full of flowering girls and I was nothing more than a little weed you had to remove. Maybe I’m wrong but three of my other acquaintances did this exact thing with you, minus the you leaving them part. So it really sucks because I don’t feel good enough anymore.
You are a spectacular artist, continue that, go to New York and follow your dreams because you are that good. If you go into rehab you can get better, I know you can. Remember that when good things leave it’s because there’s greater to come. I just need you to know that I still care and you will always be my favorite moment of time. It was a short time but it was meaningful enough to me that I think it counts as my “love”. Even though it wasn’t.
Just to let you know I forgive you for the everything and nothing you did. Thank you. I think that the world deserves to know that I’m not committing suicide because I’m depressed. It’s because I am so content with what I know and what I’ve heard that I see no purpose for myself to be here. Which in my opinion is lovely and terrifying at the same time. I died happy.

       With All My Love, Jo