I'm sick. I have been since since before vacation, since before Christmas, evidently. Didn't know it, so just thought I was tired from classes, work, boy, etc. Nope. I was sick.

MONO.

God, what a dreaded word to hear when test results come back positive. That cruel illness that strike you down without further thought, proceeds to try to eat your spleen. Then when it finds it cannot, that your spleen refuses to succumb to its greedy appetite, sends down further illness to destroy your liver- this is that monster.

I am so sick of being sick. I am now at least 2 weeks behind in school, and after I go back, probably more. I look outside and the sunshine holds charm, so I know I'm better, but there is no inclination or desire to go out- for what can I do? Nothing. Lay there on a pad of pillows and blankets, freezing, for it is still cold out. So I lay on the couch in what my mom playfully calls my "nest," refusing to eat because it hurts, being forced to eat and resentfully doing so... but only because I know that if I don't, it'll take longer to get better.

God, I'm so sick of being sick. Of feeling like I want to cry all the time because one part of another hurts, of feeling fire and ripping when I swallow, of looking in the mirror and only recognizing crazy hair, straight nose- those blue eyes aren't mine. Since when were my eyes so sad and lifeless? Since when were they so... empty?

Every once in a while, I feel strong. I try not to talk, it hurts. So I type. This is one of the first times. It makes me want to hit something, to... cry and scream and shriek and rail against the unfairness of it all- I'm going to have to repeat this stupid semester! Do all this CRAP again! Without any friends or help, without anyone but myself! It's frustrating enough to make me want to quit, to just lay in a heap on my bed and give up... Ugh... So fatalistic. I'm done... I'm getting tired, I can tell. More TV, more Lasher, more... nothing. Yay.

Can someone please cheer me up? I want wit, I want charm and sarcasm. I want... to be normal again. Happy. Ugh... Change thyself, for no one else can, right? Ugh. I hate being right. I hate knowing the answers already. I agree, Matt. Perhaps to have no knowledge would be nice. Then, at least, I could have hope until someone else broke up. Wouldn't have to know from the very beginning that I will not be happy until -I- am happy. Does that make sense? I'm rambling. Enough. Done.