And Never Let Me Go

I feel like I'm suffocating.

There's no reason to feel that way. I know this. I just do. I don't pretend that it makes sense. It's why I don't talk about it. It's irrational. If I can't justify the way I feel, I have no business feeling that way.

But I'm smothering.

I know what I need. It's silly and I can't really bring myself to ask anyone to do it for me.

Frankly, I need to lay on the floor and cry. I've cried alone, I've cried hidden in the bathroom. I've cried in the shower. But I haven't yet laid myself down and cried. I can't take one single step more, and I want to cry about it. It's stupid, it will not solve a fucking thing.

And yet, that's what I want.

And I don't want to do it alone.

I would ask my Bubby, but whenever he sees me crying, he can't take it. Bubby should have been my brother. He just cannot stand to see me crying. So even though I know I would be okay if I could just cry in front of him, I won't ask him to do that for me.

My Charliam is in Ohio, and therefore too far away.

Because what I want, basically, is someone to lay on the floor with me. Lay on the floor with me and stay quiet. I don't want to hear that I'm going to be okay. What if I'm not going to be okay? I don't want promises made that aren't going to be kept.

I don't want someone to beg me to hush, or be still. If I am quiet, or still too much longer, I will break. This will kill me. I just want to lay on the floor and be broken. I want someone there with me, to witness me being broken, to see. Because then it will be real.

It's ridiculous though. I know that.

Just Let Me Off the Bus.

It's been relentlessly sunny this week. We're having a bit of an Indian Summer, and while I should be relishing the weather, I'm stuck inside. Not only do I have a Medical Terminology AND a Human Biology test next week (which is a lab practical and a written test), I have bronchitis.

Joy.

Be that as it may, I still needed to go half way across town to pay a bill for She Who Must Be Kept. I decided not to bother with bugging a friend to take me, I didn't want to hang out at all, I just wanted to go and pay this bill. The bus is only a dollar anyway.

So I got on the bus, got downtown, and made my transfer. As soon as I got on, this bus driver was giving me withering looks. I don't know why. I've only ever ridden that route maybe twice? And neither time I had that driver. I don't think I've actually ever encountered her before, which is rare. I've ridden the bus for about eight years now, and most of the drivers know who I am. They don't know my name, but they know I go to the community college, I went to the high school on the college campus, and I sit and read for most of the ride, and say thank you when I get off.

So I got on, and when I saw my stop coming up, I hit the button. No buzzer went off, and the light didn't flash. Weird, huh? Especially because this was one of the NEWFANCYEXPENSIVEAREN'TYOUGLADYOUPASSEDTHATMILAGE?!?!?!? buses. Whatever, maybe I didn't press it hard enough.

Nope. It was broken. Something.

So I popped out my earbud. "Hey, do you think I could get off at the next stop, please?" I called. Raising my voice was difficult, and I am particularly hard to understand right now because of my hoarse voice and stuffed nose.

"WHY WOULD YOU ASK?!?" she turned and screamed. "You pressed the button! Why would you ask to get off at the next stop!?!? WHY?!?!?!"

...What? Seriously, what? I have no idea what the issue was here. The buzzer didn't go off, the light didn't flash. I just wanted to get off, pay my bill, and go home. I wasn't interested in causing problems. I asked to be let off, because I didn't feel like walking in the sun, which I am ALLERGIC to.

"Well, madam, I didn't hear the buzzer." I said stiffly. "But I will be SURE to let the bus station know about this."
"Good! I'll tell them too!"

Tell them what, I wonder? That she went postal because I asked to get off the fucking bus? I'm pretty sure if I hadn't asked, she wouldn't have zipped past my stop and if I ASKED then, she would have shouted at me to push the button.

I wrote out a complaint (after walking two miles) when I got back to the transfer center. I was told they only take their written complaints once a week. Because that makes sense? And I would get a call back.

I told She Who Must Be Kept too. I guess she's calling herself to discuss this attitude. I mean, I don't understand the issue. I asked to be let off the bus because it wasn't working. I don't know if the driver can see me or intends to let me off if the buzzer doesn't go off and the lights don't flash.