Pepsi in the Debate Room

I quit the team, which was a hard but good choice.

They lit up the Christmas lights here on campus, so the campus is beautifully sparkling into the night. While I appreciate it and it makes it feel like home, I can only help but cynically think that it is my tuition moneys going to light the pathway of the mall.

I guess that is my attitude on life all the time though. I am pissed that it had to be Ian who has chest problems. Why couldn't it be someone else? I am continually tried by God, asked for patience when I do not have any.

I love Ian, and I will care for him no matter what comes, but I resent the fact that him and I have to face this, instead of some other anonymous teen.

So Matthew gets great, perfect health? So he can go break another heart, while Ian stays loyal and dies?

I am angry, on the verge of tears. It makes me so mad because I do not even feel like I can really put anything of mine of Ian's shoulders, as the days go on, he is able to carry less. When the day comes, will he teach me to ski? Will he be able to?

Will we ever hike again? Hell, we didn't even make it to the foothills to see the city lights. . .

I started running again, but it is not fulfilling me. I go to class and I am an intelligent but average student in the class. I come back and I act like a dumbass for my friends' entertainment. I guess it just gets more empty because nothing has ever really worked out for me in my life, so I expect this to be no different, which is no fault of Ian's. No fault of mine. Just. . . .Life.

I am happy, content, or should be. I am just really mad that, MY mother had to die. That MY newest friend, and love interest had to die. That MY bestfriends have always abandoned me for their West Points, their Seminaries, their public schools.

Everyone tells me this is life, but if so, why do I not see that? Why do MY grades, MY work, take so much more effort than anyone?

Why am I forced, FORCED, to love people who die or leave? I am quickly approaching a deep loathing for God's unhelpful answers to my pleas. I just want to know why.

I want to know why Ian is sick. Why does his chest hurt all the time? Why did it have to be him? Why did God make me love him, only to punish him for me getting close?

Just when I was able to recognize that my Mom's death was not my fault, I begin to doubt that claim. I feel like I am poison. Poison Ivy, seducing others to their death. No, but I am not even clever, I am just a sad pitcher plant. A slow end to others.