The downpour goes on

It may be sunny and warm, but the downpour goes on.

So, I went to get some stuff done…dry my tears, buck up, and do what I gotta do…

Met with my professor…no way to pass enviro…fuck it. So, I may pull out of the semester with a 0.0 GPA.

On my way to the business office to get funds for Casey and Steph for what they put into the end of the year party, I ran into Jimerson.

He proceeded to talk to me, but I kept walking. I was in a hurry. Standing in line for the correct form to fill out, Dean Hall comes up behind me. Tears well up.

“How are you doing, Lindsay?”

“Nyaaa…” is all I can get out as I hurry out of Old Main toward JCFA.

Paul has to sign the form, but he and Lora Roberts are nowhere to be found. Dropped the forms in Paul’s office and ran by the Green Room to see if Melissa was around or something. No dice. So, I walked through the empty theatre, the booth light shining down on empty chairs. Without the set and props it still looked so similar to the night the operation went down. It struck me a little. Empty. Quiet.

Went to Casey’s room, and used the key that Andrew dropped off this morning to get in. (Yes, Andrew has had a key to Casey’s room all semester. That could have come in quite handy before, but isn’t so useful anymore.) I gathered my things and took them to my car. A Wal-Mart bag of my clothes, toothpaste, hairbrush, and other belongings of mine that were still lurking in his room…my soccer ball, my fiberfill that we used to make his throw pillows. I still have to get my easter basket and DVD player, which I’ll leave tonight because he is planning to watch The Godfather.

I left quickly, went to the SAC to pick up the Drama Club budget. Check. Finally, something I’ve done right this semester. On the way to my room, I ran into Karen. She wanted to tell me what she wrote in her notes on here, and ask me about classes. I don’t want to talk. I want to sleep, I want to throw up, I want to go away. I want to scream at the top of my lungs.

And most of all, I don’t want to care about all of this bullshit that I know is going to pass. But, I do care. And my mind keeps racing with thoughts about all of it. Instances in which I could have made things better. Instances in which it was better. I hate myself so much right now. And what reason do I have not to?

I know I don’t need any one person to make me happy. And I still have Casey to talk to, to be my friend and companion. It doesn’t make it easier at the moment. Someone holding me and telling me things are going to be fine may not fix anything, but it will help me calm my ass down, which is what I need right now. At few times in my life have I ever felt this helpless, hopeless, and lost.

And it’s mostly because I don’t know where to go and what to do…not necessarily because things have been shitty for the last 48 hours or so. There’s no goal ahead, no path to take, no person to help guide me. What good is freedom when you don’t know what to do with it? Every moment of indecision is agony to me.

Yeah, I’m upset about Casey, but I’m really okay about that. Yeah, I’m upset about my family, but there’s nothing I can do. Yeah, I’m upset about my education, but it’s done, and I can’t fix it. Yeah, I gave up too soon. Yeah, I could’ve done better, but I didn’t. Yeah, I didn’t give everything a chance.

So, now that we’ve established that I’m a fuck-up, what now? Somebody tell me, what now?