Without You

I miss Amber. Yesterday I wrote a letter to Cat Fancy magazine. "...I don't have any cats because my dad is allergic and refuses to consider getting one even with all the new medicines and your article about how to control cat allergies. Well, I suppose this isn't quite true because last year a stray cat took up residence in my backyard. I named her Amber and set up a home for her in the gazebo. We think she was abandoned because she was too friendly to be a feral cat. We put up found posters all over the neighborhood and put her up on the internet, but no one claimed her. We kept her for two months until we took her to the local animal shelter for adoption. We did this because Amber needed more attention than I could give her, and she needed to be inside. She couldn't come in my house because of my dad's allergies. She may also have had separation anxiety problems from being abandoned. Although we never officially owned Amber, the paperwork at the animal shelter says it was an owner surrender, so I like to think that she was my cat...."

I started reading "Without You: A Memoir of Love, Loss, and the Musical RENT" by Anthony Rapp today. It isn't helping. It's actually making it worse. And listening to "Your Eyes" and "Finale B" is definitely not helping. And talking on the phone with my sister about how stressful school is and how many things I need to do and how many clubs I need to join and how I need to get a boyfriend isn't helping. And telling her that everyone in band thinks I'm just a stupid freshmen doesn't help. I feel so alone, and Amber's not here to comfort me. I remember one Friday that one Friday was the worst. Mr. Knapp was making my life miserable. That was the day we all started crying. He didn't notice. I was hit in the face with a book. He didn't notice. I was so disturbed I got out of sixth period to go to the office and tell Ms. Rav. But I couldn't speak because I was crying so much. THen when I got home, I wrote a poemish. I was too disturbed to distinguish between prose, poetry, and what/who I was writing about. It sounds really bad. But it gets the point across.

The sky is crying

But not with me

It’s crying for all the things

You used to be

I had high hopes

But you proved me wrong

I thought you were my friend

But you weren’t for long

There’s evil in this place

You made a promise

To hide me from it but you couldn’t

Shield me from yourself

Is this a circus?

Are you doing your job?

If I even have to ask

You know something’s not right

You know something’s wrong

When you cater to the slackers

And forget those who work

Those who matter

You forgot me

Or did you ever meet me in the first place?

You mattered to me

I thought it was mutual

But when you didn’t notice

My friend was hurt

I began to notice

You were too wrapped up in yourself

Who are you to change the rules?

I’m afraid and I don’t know of what

I began to hurt and you didn’t even care

Maybe because you didn’t even see me

You pay more attention to my enemies

Than you talk to me

You say you want to help but you never come through

Do we really need to set up a time for talk?

Have you ever felt remorse

For what you’ve done

To not only me but all else

You’ve influenced us

We’ll never be the same

Thanks to you

We’ve learned to distrust

Those who are new

But you’re not new anymore

Stop fooling yourself

I need someone to lean on

You’re just a setback in my quest

I thought I had found who I needed

Thought you could make a difference

But you’ve just confirmed my beliefs

There’s no one for me

Let me be afraid for you

If I’m like anyone else

They’ll all be singing their own lament

About a false friend

I don't know if it sonds like this to you, but it sounds like I'm breaking up with someone. What I meant was I thought I could rely on him to be a good teacher and help me succeed, but he didn't. So I wrote this and went outside to see Amber. It was raining. I love the rain. Amber jumped up on my lap, expecting to be pet. I tried, but I was crying and shaking and Amber didn't like that. She jumped off my lap and went to the other side of the gazebo.

I was all alone and even the cat didn't want to be near me. How pathetic.

And yet, that's how I am right now. I'm all alone and Amber's just a picture on my wall. A handprint on my heart. Pawprint.

It's not that I want to be comforted by someone, I actually want to be left alone to vent. And I know I'm not alone because God and Erik are always there. Sometimes I wish I had a sign from them that they were there to watch me. Then I cry a lot because no sign ever comes. Then I listen to my iPod to go to sleep and I get the sign. It's called "Bridge Over Troubled Water".

"If you need a friend,
I'm sailing right behind
Like a bridge over troubled water
I will ease your mind"

That's not Paul Simon, that's Erik. Erik's message. It's everywhere. Just open your ears. He's with us all the time. I wonder if this is how Christians feel about Jesus. ttyl!