Those Damned Tears

MistWeaver: Who's your favorite pothead?
Voice: Tsk, tsk. Been bad, have we?
Weaver: No, actually. Just sad. Of course, when I cry I have the handy talent of making my eyes go completely bloodshot. Not even bloodshot. Pink. Fully and completely. And the rest of my face looks like crap, too. I'm not one of those attractive cryers who look all dramatic and beautiful. I just look like a drowned duck.
Voice: While I find all of this absolutely fascinating, it does bring to mind a more pressing question. Why have you been crying?
Weaver: And that, fair lady (or man, or whatever you are), is the heart of the matter. Crying. I've been doing way too much of it over the past few days. And try as I might, I can't stop.
Voice: You still haven't answered the question. Why have you been crying?
Weaver: A variety of reasons. The most pressing being that I've been so tired, every little thing makes me cry. Even when I don't want to. On Saturday, it was the fight I got into with Mama and Brian. On Sunday, it was the stupid email Mama sent me regarding the fight I got into with her and Brian. Today, it was Deb in the cafeteria lecturing us on how we need to be a team and how we don't pull our weight, and how... Ugh. Just... everything. And the entire time, I was thinking about how I really wanted to quit and that I'd been considering it for a while, but that I couldn't because throughout it all Deb made it clear that they needed me.
Voice: Why did you fight with Thelia and Brian?
Weaver: The same as always. About how we need to be a team, and how I don't pull my weight... Not to mention how I force them to drop everything and drive me everywhere (namely work), and how I work too much and it's costing Mama money and ... oh look. There I go again, almost. No respite from the stupid tears, not even in the middle of the school library. I guess it's a good thing that I didn't go to math.
Voice: Is that where you're supposed to be right now? Math?
Weaver: Yup. I've been stopping myself all month from skipping, telling myself that I need math, that missing it is a bad idea. I gave up today. Screw Math. Screw stupid pipsqueak Carder and his stupid discrimination. The best thing to do is study it myself and show up for test days. I almost wish that I would get caught skipping, for once. I can identify with certain characters from certain books... That reckless feeling where you want to get caught so you can yell to the world how you really feel.
Voice: And this is your way of yelling at the world. All those who care to read, step right up! Take a computer and boot 'er up.
Weaver: When you put it that way... I guess this is my way of yelling at the world. Teen Angst R Us. Although I feel closer to 70 than to a teen, at the moment.
Weaver: Do you know who happened to come in while I was trying to clean myself up in the bathroom before coming here?
Voice: If I knew, you wouldn't be asking.
Weaver: It was KD. Yes, KD. The one that I never particularly liked, and thought to be shallow and inconsiderate. I've never hidden my opinion of her, either. But when she walked in, inconspicuous cryer that I am, she took one look and asked me what was wrong. Gave me a hug, too.
Voice: Has your opinion changed of her?
Weaver: To be honest, not really. She's still pretty shallow and mean. But at the same time, even the shallowest person has a heart. I don't know where I'm going with this.
Voice: Maybe towards the idea that she's a tolerable person?
Weaver: Yeah, I guess. And I'm probably going to go watch her Drama class second period since I think that I've changed my mind about going to math at all. And I should probably reread my reply to my mother's email. I was so tired, and crying so hard, that I have barely any recollection of what I wrote. I have a vague memory of thinking it was really bitter-sounding. Am I right? I can't remember. Maybe I am just a selfish bitch. Bleah.

Oh, and a note: I'm still trying to figure out whether I miss Ryan. I haven't really talked to him in like two weeks. More if you count talking to him sober. I don't go to Youth anymore. I think our last meaningful conversation was when I told him that. I'm trying to figure out whether to invite him to the Dance next week. We had agreed that if we had one with guests, he'd come and we'd have a blast. Then again, I'm not even sure I can go. But it's formal! And I've wanted to go to a formal dance forever...

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