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2015-04-13 18:45:02 (UTC)

Seeing Her Everywhere

"Night On The Sun" by Modest Mouse [Elise liked this band!!! I liked that about her and it's part of what made me think she'd like Mr. Sandwich. Me and him bond over Modest Mouse]

April 13, 2015 Monday 6:46 PM

Today was rough but not too awful. Not only did I hold back my tears for most of the school day, I was also receiving hateful anonymous messages calling me racist and stuff. I stand by what I said, which is that if you want to change the world, you can't do it by being a hypocrite. I understand that white people have been major assholes in the past, but this is a new generation, an improved generation. Although there are still people out there who refuse to see everyone as equals, that's not the case with everyone so when someone happens to not know something (or I guess they're ignorant on the subject, but not in an awful, awful way. Not the way they use the word "ignorant") or just happens to have a different opinion based on different reasons and perspectives, they are automatically racist and stupid. It just seems dumb that after all they've gone through, they want to conquer it by being assholes to people who are only guilty of looking caucasian. And yeah, it sounds fucked because everyone is used to it being the other way around. If you enslaved white people for four hundred years, would that make anyone feel better? No. In fact, it would just be the same old shit. Look, I was never saying that caucasian American people have never done any wrong, but it's dumb to assume every single white person is privileged and racist. Maybe they don't have the same experiences as you due to their color, but does that mean they're racist? No. It means they don't know and it's your job to educate individuals. Basically, you can't fight fire with fire or hate with hate. It doesn't work. I voiced this opinion on tumblr and have been insulted a lot because of it, but I stand by it.

Okay. Done with my rant.

I cried during ninth period. I'm not keeping Elise's death a secret, but I'm not coming straight out and telling everyone, you know? But they didn't know her, so I want them to ask about her so I can tell them what she was like.

Anyway, I've been drawing her. I wanted to paint a portrait of her and maybe send it to her family, but I needed to practice so that's what I was doing. My art teacher came over and looked at it, as well as this other dude in my class. He's the guy who, sometime in December, said I had a beautiful smile and I very much respect him for his kindness.

Anyway, he said, "Who's that?"

I said, "She was my friend," kind of choking on the last words.

He said, "Was? What happened?"

And I don't really remember clearly the next few sentences. I think he asked if she died. Either that, or my teacher asked and I nodded while trying to, y'know, not cry and my teacher said, "Was that Ethan's sister?"

I shook my head, no.

"Ohh, and I can tell it was recent, too, by your sensitivity. You can go walk around for awhile if you want,"

I think I said thank you??? Not sure. I just know I grabbed my phone and went to the bathroom, where I cried a bit.

I headed back to the classroom when I thought I was alright, but I kept replaying that moment in my head, I kept thinking about her, and I kept wanting to cry. I had to breathe a lot.

Adrian came over to my table at some point. I probably looked like I had been crying. Red eyes and nose. He, I believe, asked how I was and I said that I was fine, in kind of a super quiet voice. Asked who the girl in my drawing was, I said, "My friend." and looked away so that I could hold the fuckin' ocean in me.

Luckily, he started talking about other things and showed me these really weird, medieval drawings that made absolutely no sense and it was great. They were really funny, like, "Birds eat other birds right?" "yeah" "What kind of birds do they eat, the same kind of other species?" "Same kind." "Of course, of course."

And then there'd be an old drawing of several birds eating one of their friends. It was fucking weird, creepy as hell, I liked it. It made me feel better, actually. People were pretty nice today.

I still want to tell everyone about her, though. I still have these split second moments where I think she's alive. And then I have the numb streaks where, even if I think of her last moments, I just can't bring myself to care. I hate that part. I'd rather be crying my eyes out than not feeling anything. Right now, I'm kind of alright. I think about her pretty much constantly, see her in everything I do, everything I think. I imagine her approving and disapproving, agreeing and disagreeing, I remember our old conversations and regret that there weren't more.

I do miss her and I look at her pictures and feel myself about to cry, but I don't know... That grief, it hurts and feels like insanity, but it means she's still in me. I'm kind of scared to stop crying.

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