Thursday, November 10, 2005

It’s strange how she can feel so icky and somehow finds this deep comfort in being sick, so comfortable that the thought of getting better almost sickens her more. See Lola is pee-shy; she can’t literally pee if she thinks someone might hear her. She would hold it all day long until she got an awful kidney infection. Now she has developed this irrational fear of kidney infections she drinks enough water for a small army and lives wholly on a scheduled, military time, she has planned times and bathrooms so she can take care of business. She is also a germ-a-phobic; she carries Lysol wipes with her so the bathrooms that she uses are germ-free. She’s obsessed with cereal, anything that crunches really, carrots and apples, maybe it’s because the sound of the crunch is the only thing that drowns out her own thoughts. It’s the only moment she has peace of mind, when she’s crunching, she goes into this zone and can’t think of anything besides the crunch. She’s afraid that her body won’t be able to process things that are not natural, so she reads the labels on everything and doesn’t go out to eat. She believes that high fructose corn syrup and artificial flavoring are slowly poisoning her to death, sitting in her body and rotting away in her intestines. She’s afraid of loving someone, the only person she ever loved left because he said that she set him free. She doesn’t understand though, she feels like a prisoner inside of herself and somehow she inspired someone to be free? She is almost like a people-magnet, people meet her and instantaneously cling to her, they open their hearts to her, spill their woes all over her and she wipes them away. They tell her how unique she is, how they’ve never met anyone like her, and to never change. It’s because she cares, it’s because she knows what its like to feel pain and she’d give her world to a stranger so they would not have to feel it. It’s because when you meet Lola, you meet Lola, she doesn’t hide anything from you and if she’s about to piss her pants, she’ll ask you to sing and turn the radio up real loud so she can. It’s because she carries sidewalk chalk with her, just in case she sees a little bit of the world that looks sad, she’ll make it happy with color. If you’re sad or feeling sort of lonely, she’ll give you a monkey, from her barrel of monkeys, because you can keep it in your pocket so you’re never alone, plus it’s red so it’s automatically fabulous. Then they tell her that they just can’t be friends with her anymore, mostly because they’re a new person now and they need to move on with their lives. They tell her thank you a million times, “thank you for helping me see what I needed to change, thank you for helping me find the strength to change,” they need this fresh start, they need to break ties with the past, and she is the tie that links the past to the future and they cut her with the sharpest of scissors. A few leave because they love her so much it hurts them but she understands that. It’s been known to happen that a few will completely steal her identity, she certainly becomes annoyed by this one especially, but she moves on, she’s learned not to harbor anger because it grows and gets worse. She’s tired now though and it’s been making her sick, real sick, she’s become so afraid that she just can’t move and if she’s sick then she doesn’t have to move, she doesn’t have to get hurt, and she doesn’t have to fail. All these people that she cared so much for have left her out to dry, she just wants to be sick, and waste away, hoping someday someone will remember her. She’s already left her mark on the world.


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