Manage me, I'm a mess
Turn a page, I'm a book half unread,
I wanna be laughed at, laughed with,
Just because,
I wanna feel weightless, and that should be enough
-All Time Low, Weightless
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My eyes were open before the sun has even rose. I woke with a headache and an uneasy settle in my stomach, and even I could put things together to realize I probably had a hangover. I hadn't drank like that before, not like that. Last night, I drank just for the sake of getting drunk, and I scorned myself heavily.
I promised myself that I wouldn't do it again. Already the feelings of guilt and disappointment for my previous judgement were catching up to me. I wasn't cut out for that kind of thing; I wasn't the kind of person who liked inebriation, who liked to forget. I wanted to remember everything, and I was going to need my head to be set on right if I ever wanted to find out what had happened to my father.
I realized now, wearily, that I was not only concerned for knowing what had truly happened and why James had left. Although James' departure left me feeling kind of suspicious, and my father's demise left me feeling all sorts of awful, there was a wider picture that I wanted. I wanted security in the knowledge. I wanted to know, for sure, that the rest of us were going to be okay. I wanted to know that my mother and step-brother were going to be safe in our home, and I wanted to know that I could protect them if we were not.
There were a lot of things that I wanted, and unfortunately, there were a lot of things that I could not have. There was too much that I wanted to know, and I didn't really know where or how to get to it. At that point, I was still following the "knowledge is power" ideology. I thought that knowing the truth and the solutions would make me a better person; I thought that the truth was going to be on my side. In hindsight, I know now that the truth is never going to play to what you want, or even what you need.
The truth in incessantly indifferent to not only the course of my life and needs, but also to that of every life and every need on our planet. But of course, I was naiive, following my gut and my impulse to a truth that I thought would help me. The truth didn't help ease anything, as I would later find out. The truth wouldn't help to even solve anything. No one wants to admit that not knowing is a perfectly reasonable truth. Everyone expects an answer, and our heads stutter when we find that there actually is none.
However, at the time, all of the early morning, existential thoughts left me with nothing but a pounding headache. It came to me that I had actually just run away from my house to drink with a group of abandoned teenagers and sleep on the concrete under an overhang. And I had made acquaintances there. And I had been alright with the entire premise. The world was odd that day. But, odd or not, it was a day, and it was a day that I had to use up anyways, whether or not it was good for me.
Surprisingly, nothing was stolen from my backpack. Well, truly, I don't know how surprising that should have been. Rational me told me to go back home. Impulsive, egotistical me told me that I would make it and that it was going to be okay, this run. I couldn't tell if I was running into the truth, or away from it. I couldn't even tell if I was going the way that I wanted to go, or even which way I wanted in the end.
I unrolled the paper, the one with my step-parent's house address scribbled onto it. I shook the greasy-haired girl awake, and she grumbled a bit before giving up and complying.
"So, we off right about now, huh?" She glanced around, looking at the circle of sleeping delinquents settled around the ashes of last night's fire. She shook her head, and laughed, and even though I sort of understood the laughter, I couldn't find it in myself to join in. I just waited until she stopped laughing, and then we started walking off, out of the alley and onto the side road.
She seemed to either not feel her hangover, or not care about how she felt, because she seemed to wake quickly and walk with a bounce. She walked confidently, as if she owned the world, and her positivity was almost nauseous. She looked at me, smiling, and began to talk in a voice that was too loud for the soft morning air.
"Don't have any idea where you're going, do you?" She said.
I shrugged, and handed her the paper, stopping at a street-light intersection. She read, and she thought for a second before jumping up, almost startling me. 717Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡPfjI6atgae
"What are you on about now?" I huffed. She rolled her eyes. I didn't care what she thought of me right now. If there was anything that I learned from last night, it's that we all have no right to judge one another. We're all the same, we're all screwed, and so I didn't care what she thought I was like or what she felt about my personality.
"Yeah, okay, grumps. I know where this is."
Now that struck me. I didn't expect her to actually know things, which was stupid. Hadn't she done a few years at college, hadn't I learned that we were all the same. I found out, in that moment, that I was a very judgmental person. It wasn't necessarily my fault, I had just been taught since I was younger that I was a good person, that I was smart and well-to-do and kids like this girl were to be felt sorry for but not sympathized with. However, I was sympathizing with her. I was very much like her.
She took in my reaction with eyebrows raised and a smile on her face.
"Yeah, I know where this is. Weren't expecting that, yeah. But I know this area pretty well, it'd be a waste if I didn't even know that much. People see me, they see a dumb, drunk blonde. They don't see a person, they see a basket case. But I got some stuff up here," she pointed to her head, "I could even help you with some maths homework if you needed it, I used to be pretty good."
We crossed the street, her re-direction me towards our destination. It was a nice pattern: her talking, me half-listening, waiting at street-lights, crossing intersections, watching the day slowly fall into place. I became the follower, though we were walking side by side. I no longer was leading my own stupid little adventure. But I was okay with that, to let someone else take the reigns for a second, especially if they knew better where I was going.
We were waiting to cross once again at the time when I felt awake enough to talk.
"So, this is crazy" I said numbly. She nodded.
"I don't know you," she nodded again, scoffing a little bit, "No, really though, I don't even know you."717Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡsWn2voOWUE
She furrowed her brows, and then turned dramatically, extending a hand, "Yeah, guess not," we shook hands, mostly sarcastically, "Well, my name's Missy."
I nodded, "My name's Chris. Is Missy your full name?"
She laughed at my question, because we both knew it wasn't.
"Yeah, I'm Missy as much as you're Chris. That's a guy's name?"
I withdrew my hand theatrically, "It's actually gender-neutral, thanks Missy."
She smacked me on the arm a bit, playfully though not un-painfully.
"Alright, kiddo. Respect your elders."
And then we laughed and both fell into a silence, knowing that neither of us would could fully respect each other. However, at the same time, I felt like I understood Missy more than I understood half of the people in my life, for whatever that was worth. I might not have been able to respect her fully, at the time, but I trusted her enough. Maybe I was being a bit too trusting, as was my usual, but I couldn't find it in me to actually act upon the defensive feelings, as they were so slight. I thought a bit as the whizzing of cars became more frequent and more apparent.
I was a mess.
But at least I had the chance to clean myself up a bit.
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