Thirteen Ways To Cope≫ ImmortalHD

5- don't be afraid to cry

Waking up the next morning after a day of rest seemed peaceful then like a mad scramble where absolutely nothing in life went right.

First it turns out I had no clothes washed which meant I had to resort to wearing clothes I'd worn previously last week. Then after the scramble to find my clothes I discovered I was running late, and barely had time to run a brush through my hair.

Upon reaching the bus stop I'm met by an empty sign clear of all life which mean the bus had already come and gone. Sighing, I finally give on in my quest to get to school as it obviously was not going to happen. I collapse onto the curb feeling lost as to what to do as well as hopeless.

My face became buried in my face, tears threatening spill over, but I hold them in telling myself not to cry; it's not worth it. A honk receives my attention and I look up to see a red Corolla sitting in front of me the driver sitting there with the window rolled down.

"Need a ride?", the guy asks and I look at him wearily.

"No thanks.", I stutter.

"You're scared aren't you?", he chuckles, "don't worry I'm a friend of Aleks."

"Who?"

"Aleks, you've talked to him right?", he asks. I shake my head no but he sighs.

"Just come on.", the guy says rolling his eyes. Slowly I approach his vehicle while we waits rather impatiently. Slowly I get in and am immediately greeted with a hand in which I assume he wants me to shake.

"I'm James Wilson.", he says smiling.

"Jasey Rae.", I mumble holding out a hand. James shakes it confidently before returning his hands to the wheel.

The ride goes by quickly and is filled by small talk which I shyly return still afraid to talk to anyone. James seems to understand though as he doesn't press for me to answer him instead lets silence fall until I speak or he thinks of a new subject to pursue.

We end up at the school in no time where I quickly thank him then hurry to class in hopes of doing a small amount of homework before the bell rang. I didn't get much done which frustrated and brought back the daunting feeling of failure that ultimately made me want to cry; I still tell myself I'm too strong.

.

The entire day passes by quickly and ends with an hour of detention for showing up late as well as not having my homework done for trig. It was a small price to pay for having the night off.

Time ticks by slowly as I dread what my moms going to say as well as how I'm going to come back from this. My head rests in my hands as I wrack my brain for reasonable explanations. Tears prick at my eyes as I slowly become engulfed in my thoughts.

Walking home was considerably worse than sitting in the classroom. There I wasn't able to cry because of the others looks, but here I was free to do whatever. I could cry, sing, scream; there were no limits. I withheld from doing any of that though and continued to keep all my emotions bottled up inside.

Once I got home it was a different story. I immediately retreat to my room before my mom can question anything. Shutting the door behind me I flop onto my bed unsure of what to even do or feel.

My feet ached from walking home, my head hurt from all the scolding and makes up home work paired with today's homework, the missing the bus, Eddie; it all just forms a massive pile. A pile that sends me over the edge.

Soon all of my strength has been depleted and I'm openly crying with no sign of stopping. Sobs wrack my chest as I'm haunted by everything that happened today; my too strong to cry mentality long gone. Tears leave my eyes in an endless stream as I sniffle, sob, and grip at the sheets wondering where in the hell I went wrong.

How everything changed so fast.

How I lost Eddie so easily

I cry, and cry until there's nothing left in me and I'm limply laying in bed. As I lay there post relapse I think of a.m, and what he'd think. He probably think I'm pitiful, and lose all the hope he had in me. I would.

Pushing myself up out of bed I walk over to where the note from him lay plucking it up. I look at it and furrow my eyebrows at the next thing;

5. don't be afraid to cry

For some reason that helps; it makes me feel less pitiful. Like my tears hadn't been for nothing as I shouldn't be afraid to cry and tears shouldn't make me feel weak. I shouldn't be afraid to cry because of what people thought.

Somehow that one sentence helped make my actions feel okay; like I hadn't messed up all over again.

And I appreciated that, I appreciated his actions whether he be him, a.m. ,or Aleks to me I appreciated him for making me feel like I wasn't a complete wreck.