By this time, her visiting here got pushed back from August to...now sping break, all the way until April. Her parents wanted her home for fall break, and they most likely weren't about to let her run off with a girl from a whole different state, so, you know, I was disappointed, but not surprised. I was used to it by now...Which probably wasn't too good of a sign.

It was September, and I was about to start highschool, with Najwa starting college. I was pretty stressed out because my family kept on fighting with one another. My mom and dad would agrue almost every night and end up swearing and slamming doors and yelling in each other's faces. I honestly couldn't wait to start school to get a load of homework so I could escape in that each night. Especially since I'll get a bunch more because it's highschool...But since Najwa had started college before I started at my highschool, she was super busy already with coursework and we hardly got to talk to one another. I was patient, like I always am, but as time went on, I grew impatient...

I dont remember my first day of highschool very well; only that it was a bit scary, and that the summer program I did over the summer didn't do SHIT to help with knowing how the school is laid out. Because of my cerebral palsy, my schedule was specifically put so I could have the least amount of walking as possible. And even then, it was STILL a LOT of walking. I had Honors Biology first, then Gym (which I hate...), Algebra, Band, lunch, Honors English, and then lastly Civics, all in that order. I can't recall how my classes went, but for some reason I remember band:

The hour started with siting in our sections. How we had to sit was drawn up on the board by my director, Mr. Hoehn. Now, Mr. Hoehn had been the director at the middle school when my older sister, who plays the Tenor sax, went through middle school, so I knew the director pretty well. For my middle school band I was stuck with Mr. Christanson. And boy, did he SUCK. He didn't teach us crap about band or music theory and just made us play boring music. He'd argue with the students all the time, and the class wa schaos. I almost quit band the year previous to this because I couldn't take him and the class any longer, but I stuck through it because I loved actually playing. And I am extremely happy that I didn't quit, if I say so myself.

I play the Alto saxophone, so I looked around for Marcos, whom I played Alto with in band for the last three years since the sixth grade, but he was nowhere to be seen. Are you kidding me? I thought, Am I going to be the only Alto?! I started to panic, but I saw a sophmore who I didn't know sitting in the general section that we saxophones were supposed to sit, so I went up to him and asked, "Are you a saxophone?" and he replied with, "Yes...I play tenor." Well, thats better than nothing, right? With that, I sat two seats away from him. I would soon know this boy as Zach, and he became one of my better friends in other classes. Everyone in the room was busy trying to find their seats and asking Hoehn questions. I didn't have an instrument because I couldn't afford to buy one for over $1,000, so I had to rent one from the school, meaning that I did not have one over the entire summer. Mr. Hoehn announced that whoever needed a school instrument should come visit him in his office. I did just that, and a few minutes later I had my saxophone that I would use for the year. When I came back, instrument case in hand, everyone who had their own instruments were sitting in their seats. And I saw Marcos! YES! I rushed over to my seat which was two seats between his. "Dude! You're here! I thought you were going to another school!!" I exclaimed, totally giddy now.

"Noooope!" He said, smiling. In between us were two boys who neither of us knew. They were clearly sophmores. One had black hair and tan-ish skin, and the other had long-ish wavey brown hair and pretty pale skin, aside from some acne. I didn't think much of them at first, aside from the fact that they were older. And better at playing...

I would have replied to Marcos, but our conversation was cut off by Mr. Hoehn telling everyone that they had to make name tags for their stands so he knew who was who. On each music stand was a piece of paper and a marker that we could use. After I made mine, I folded the side of the paper that my name was on in half and proped it up on the stand. I peeped at the boys' name tags of those who I did not know; the one with the dark hair and tan skin was Israel, and the the boy with the pale skin and poofy hair was Hayden.

 My section proceeded to taking their instruments out, so I did the same. I felt so nervous that when I was going to try to play sheet music, I would forget all of the fingerings and notes since I didn't have an instrument for three whole months. I'm always paranoid about this every year, but I always get into the hang of it. And that's what happened. Again...

 The first piece of music that we got handed out was called Riverdance. My school's marching band had played this over the summer, so I knew how it went. Though the reason we were playing it was that we had to perform it on the football field for the Homecoming dance a month ahead. We got pretty good at the music as a whole, but I struggled with some of the faster parts, as did Marcos. Hayden and Israel took care of that, though! They flew through the notes as if they didn't even have to think, and I couldn't help but feel a bit jealous. I found myself thinking: Why can't I be that good?

In order to figure out who would be what chair for sections, we had to do a private playing test with Mr. Hoehn. Israel ended up moving somewhere else the second week of school, so now it was just me, Marcos and Hayden. Marcos and I ended up getting second chair, and Hayden got first, because, let me tell you, Hayden was amazing at playing. The day after everyone finished theirs, Hayden asked me during band: "How did your playing test go?" and I replied with, "Um...It was...alright..." which was true. I pretty much failed it because it was all sixteenth notes, and before that I hadn't played much fast music like that at all. Though since I completed it, I got an -A, so it was worth it! But when Hayden talked to me, I totally fell in love with his voice. It was deep and kind of boy-ish, though not at the same time. It reminded me of velvet. Of comfort. I don't know why it stuck out to me, but it did. Thats honestly what started a whole bunch of other...troubles, with Najwa and I.

Him.

 As time progressed, Najwa was still busy with school. At one time we hadn't talked for over a week, and that to say the least made me extremely sad. Whenever she tweeted I jumped forward to tweet her as fast as I could back, but most of the time she never replied. She tweeted other people back though, which I really didn't understand. The same went on with text messages. I tried to ask her why she was ignoring me, and she always said that she had a load of coursework, which I understood since it was college, and that she had no time to talk. I felt ignored, hurt, and neglected. On top of that, my parents have started to fight even more and my sister is admitted into the psych ward in the hospital yet again because she felt suicidal. Whenever my sister got admitted to the hospital, it brought everyone in my family down. Also, my mom shared with me for some reason that she was suicidal because of everything that was going on, and that she understood why one of my relatives commited suicide because she really felt no reason to live anymore.

It all really felt like the end of the world. I soon got depressed and frustrated beyond belief. I started to think that no one cared about me; not my friends, family, or even Najwa, because, why else would she ignore me like this? She loved me, didn't she? What have I fucked up this time?

My friends started to not talk to me. I never wanted to go home at the end of the day because of all the arguing from my family. And I didn't want to scroll through my contacts on my phone or listen to my iPod because something would always remind me of Najwa. I felt numb on the inside. I didn't look forward to anything. It hurt to get up in the morning, and I would have nights where I would bawl my eyes out for hours because I missed Najwa so much. I would fake smiles every day at school. I would have false moods of happiness because I eventually got so good at faking smiling and laughing that it somehow got easier. One day during my lunch period, I was so down that I couldn't hide it anymore. My friend Jenny noticed that I did not say a single word, and that I was not smiling or laughing like I usually do. She asked if I was alright, and I lied and said I was just tired.

I would use that lie many, many times.

Another day, one of my worst days, I decided to dress oppostie of my feelings; I wore a rainbow colored sweatshirt, a bright red top underneath and bright pink jeans. My mind was so out of whack that I accidentally left my first hour class 10 minutes too early (I have to leave each hour during school 5 minutes early to be able to take my time to get to my next class) and I hadn't noticed.

I rarely ate anything, and I actually enjoyed the pain that starving myself would bring me. I would take freezing cold showers just to torture myself and to make myself feel something.

I was never suicidal, but I had thoughts of hurting myself further. For example, I wanted to take vodka that was my older brothers' and drink it so I could forget about things that were wrong in my life. I also debating throwing myself down the stairs during passing time at school so I could break something and get attention for once. I never did any of that though, because I knew I was better than that. I knew I needed to get this anger and frustration out of me somehow, and substances or physical harm were not the answer.

Though I think it's safe to say I harmed myself emotionally.

Maybe a concert would help?