Sticky.

I'm listening to this song that reminds me of him. Of his smell, of his car, of his stupid haircut, of his smile that leaned to the side a bit...it's stupid and I need to stop. I know.

And talking of stupidity is the girl of the hour...the seemingly always brought up girl, in my blogs. She is still alive, and don't get me wrong I am grateful for that, but in a sense she is already dead. Giving her creative mind things to smoke out of. Ideas to make her dark world a little brighter. A boot, an apple, a trophy. Nothing matters. She is caught up in the smoke and she can't see, but she also can't breathe. And she can't breathe because she is constantly suffocating her world with shit.

And then the other girl who's never mentioned, because dude it just hurts to talk about her. How close we used to be-and yet I have to find out about her well-being through other people? How sick is that. Chew on that a bit, and you'll realize it's plastic and you're thinking to yourself--"Kelsey what in the hell are you saying?"...and then you raise questions about the probability of getting high through skype. That somehow the smoke enters the speakers and through your gullet and you choke out the same smoke that she had once inhaled.

Merry Christmas and my world seems less glue-able. I should probably clean my room, but Grey's Anatomy sounds better.

...

It's unlike her to not be there when she says she will. She relies on me. Every message, every call, every conversation-she craves. She is so lonely that she feeds off my presence. I'm fine with that. I love her and I am fine with that. But today's message was extremely chilling. A message that I wouldn't dare not to answer. A message I responded to in a heartbeat. A message that scared me. Then a call. I was at Annie's tonight hanging out with her and Morgan and she finally called me. My phone was about to die, so I told her I'd call her when I was home in an hour. Morgan wasn't ready to leave after an hour so I said my goodbye's and walked home, because my friend needed me...I got on skype...she wasn't there. I got on facebook...nothing there, either. And I'm just praying everything's alright, yanno. Just praying for her.

Passion Play-William Fitzsimmons

Grief whirling around, and around, and around.

All this time I put her through grief is now being understood by my own eyes. So much pain has resided in my heart for the past couple years, especially. The only way I knew how to draw a breath was to share the pain with my best friend. But instead of leaning on God, I crushed her instead-I used her as a shield. Whatever I would feel and whenever I would feel it, Maggie would, too. And how is that fair? It's not.

Lexie has helped me realize this. As I am getting better, she is getting worse. It's an interesting mix of understanding and resentment. I wish I would have done so many things different, but at the same time all of these scars have made me who I am for a very defining reason. Maybe going through what I did, maybe even being the poor friend that I was, will somehow help Lexie? Maybe God will use what I endured to make the pain less on my hurting friend? Sometimes my inhaling is so hopeless as I exhale the truth that she isn't getting better, though. That she is weaker and more pathetic every time we skype. That I cry myself to sleep every night because I am so scared for her. For her body, for her soul, for her life. It is constantly spinning around in my insomniatic brain.

I am living so much more prayerfully and I love that. I love having a two-sided relationship with so many more people. I love having people in my life rely on me. Trust me. Love me. It's the best feeling in the world. And although I have been struggling and hurting over the fact that I am rotting in Norman, OK God knows what the hell He's doing. Which is awesome...because I sure don't, and someone's gotta pick up my slack. I wrote a song today...it's called "Yahweh"...it means the world to me, because it's my life in the lyrics. Yahweh has been through it all with me. And Yahweh will help Lexie through this, too. I know He will. He's got to.