Last week I wrote some stupid post about my dog. My mom once told me to write a heavy diary one week, a lighter one the next, then one heavy one, and so on. She said that way people would know I could write but wouldn’t feel stressed reading my stuff. I wanted to do this, but I’m finding it really difficult to think about anything light right now.

I feel like I should never take anything for granted again. I feel angry because I feel I should have been able to take her life for granted. Everyone should be granted their parents, and other important things. If I feel that it should just be a given that everyone needs fresh water, of course I will take it for granted, and be even more disturbed when I find not everyone can. Is this optimism? Is it anything?

If that is optimism, I can no longer be optimistic. My world is half empty. God, that sounds stupid. She would say it sounds cheesy, cliché. I don’t really feel bad for myself, I just feel extremely shitty, and I think that’s reasonable, which makes me feel selfish. I’m supposed to think that I deserve this. But nobody deserves to have a parent die when they’re 14, and I’m somebody. Or am I supposed to have horribly low self-esteem? Am I supposed to be nobody?

I dyed my hair dark brown. I like it (my sister says it looks weird, and surprisingly, my dad says it looks nice). My mom will never see it. That feels so weird and I feel like it should be sacrilegious to change anything now. Pretend it’s all the same, don’t rearrange the furniture, don’t put up a new picture in the living room, or we’re doing it behind her back.

I have always been extremely logical. Maybe not in my actions, but in my head. The only exception is with ghosts—such a scary idea for me. It seems to kind of make sense but not really, like psychics. In sixth grade I was deathly afraid (ha) of ghosts for some reason; I couldn’t look in mirrors or down hallways. I was afraid to open my eyes at night; there were times when I was afraid of closing my eyes in case I’d see one inside my head (those were the worst). I was also afraid of dangling my feet off of beds because that’s supposed to summon them or something. Now I sleep with my feet off the bed; I stare into mirrors at night, I walk down hallways when I’m alone, and I never see anything.

Is it going to be like this forever? I know I won’t ever wrap my head around why this had to happen. But will I always wonder? ♦