(Morning of) One Lapkritis of Twenty Eleven

Almost dry tears stain my cheeks, smearing the foundation that covers my shame.

But why, am I so upset?

I am lonely. Although my family in only a few hours away and my boyfriend closer, I desperately miss them. I almost fear that I cannot live on my own. I am in constant need of companionship. I barely make it through weekends without company.

I touch the fluff on my pillow and mistake it for a cat's fur. Piles of clothes deceive me as a sleeping kitten.

I miss the family's morning scrabble. How my father would rush my sister and I out of the house so that he could get to work on time. How my brother sat and waited for the bus. I miss the mornings where I scraped frost off the car with my mom.

I remember a day when I cried as she left for work. It was just another day. She simply left for work, like every other day. But it was the fact that she had left that was hard for me to grasp. Even at thirteen, I sobbed as she drove away. Even though she could help me, she was physically distanced from me and I was left without her.

Even now, I find myself in tears, missing home.

Most kids are so eager to get away. To go live on their own, toughing through the daily grind. They're eager to go to parties and be irresponsible. Even though I was raised conservatively, I've never felt the need to so harshly break away from my parents and rebel so strongly. I've never wanted to party, drink, or try illegal drugs. I've never had some craving to sleep around at a party, or even associate with people who smoke weed. None of this has ever been an attractive prospect. To me, my parents taught me that I didn't need to live that life. That even though I couldn't trust them with everything (they are still my parents), I could trust them to help me and be proud of me. They hear me out.

I miss them so desperately.

Sometimes I wonder how I'll even go on, when they've gone.

It's early in the morning. I've got class in eight hours. I want to run to my parents room, watching the numbers and trying to navigate, and wake up my mom. I want her to check outside my window with me. To tell me there's no one outside, no one trying to break in.

But here, I am alone. Crushed into solitude for another six months.

Happy Half Birthday to me.

'Metal walls push me in,
glass against my back.
Cries of anguish,
regret,
despair.
His single smile reminds me,
of that moment,
when I could not trust.
My tomb,
I found it.'