Fight or Flight

I'm sitting in a room in Jamie and Shehan's lovely home. My thoughts, like always, consume me. I'm not exactly sure what I want to write about. I just know I have to get something out. Oh the repetition of my life. Blah.

I adore the blanket that is wrapped around me. Adore.

Ten years ago it was a Tuesday and I was in 6th grade. I used to use my TV to wake me up in the morning. There was an alarm set to it that at a certain time it would turn on and that would mean I had to wake up and get ready for school. My TV turned on that morning and I woke up to images that I didn't fully understand. It just made my heart sick the way it always does when I know something is wrong.

I sat in the Catholic church here in Bountiful, Utah for about 45 minutes prior to mass starting. It was quite wonderful. My memory had failed me in thinking I had not been there before. Of course though once I stepped inside I was flooded. It was as though I had stepped back into a moment in time and was weighted there, forced to feel everything again. I felt a tug at my hand and expected Diana to be standing there, awkwardly like she would with a smile on her face motioning me to follow her. I froze for a second and blinked and just walked in the opposite direction of where I knew her and I had sat. I wanted to text Erin, to hear something from her but I decided against it. Number one, I was in church and was not going to pull out my phone. Number two, Erin never has been nor ever will be Diana's replacement. I have never considered her that. I never wanted Erin. I never wanted another best friend. Erin just showed up. And then ran through my walls. Of course though, so much rides on our friendship. So much scares me about it. I hate how insecure I am. I wanted to talk to her because I wanted some reassurance. I wanted to make sure she existed. But its silly. So I just stopped myself, sat down and focused on the cross.
I prayed a little. I sang to myself. I sat silently. I looked over the readings and I ached with the idea of how I would proclaim them. Then I took out my journal in my purse and my pen and I began to write. The last sentence I wrote right before mass began was a plea. I'm begging.

I received some unexpected news today. I'm trying to think of a million and one solutions. Funny how all of them involve me. I try, but I can't picture myself out of the picture. I sent a text to my sister. I told her I would take care of her. Her response made me want to cry and run far away into the mountains. But it also made me want to run home to her right now and get everything done.

What exactly are you doing God?

I want to stay here longer...