Tattoos

I woke up this morning surrounded by used tissues with a bottle of wine and a bottle of Baileys in my bed. Clearly I had a rough night.

I skipped school today and slept. I woke up for real around 12:30 pm. It's 2 pm now, and my eyes still hurt from crying last night.

I spent the last couple hours looking at apartments. I figure, I'll try to talk to my mom today, and if she still insists that we can't live together, then I will move out. It is unfair for her to move into an apartment and leave the house to me. I don't belong alone in 3 bedroom house. That is just silly. I found about four that I liked well enough. They are pretty cheap, all under 900 a month for a one bedroom. It's tough to find them, though, because I have a dog and cat that will be coming with me. I have a guinea pig too, but I may have to sneak him in. He is small enough and his cage looks enough like a dog cage that I might just be able to get away with it.

I never thought I would ever come to a point like this. You hear of those kids who get kicked out of the house because their parents can't live with them anymore. They are usually drug addicts, gang members, badly behaved, etc. I was always a well-behaved child. I wasn't perfect, but I wasn't a hellion. I got pretty good grades and I never did drugs. I guess somewhere along the way, I messed up badly enough to lead my mom to think we can't live together anymore. If I do have to move, I will have to do some serious soul-searching to make myself be a more tolerable person.

I think when all this is over, and I have the money, the first tattoo I am getting is of a phoenix. If I can make it out of this alive, I think that will be fitting. A good reminder that I can be strong. Because I am not a strong person. I will not be surprised if this breaks me. But somehow, if I can hold it together, and rise up out of the ashes of my fucked-up life, then maybe, just maybe, I can conquer anything.