Bruised. Battered. Broken.

Yesterday we learned one of our competition dances for drill. We danced for six solid hours. This bruise on my arm is one of many that I acquired from this. Besides every single muscle in my body being totally sore, some that I didn't even know existed, I also have bruises on my arms, knees, shoulder, head, back and spine. If I sit in a single position for very long, it kills me to move. After I woke up this morning I lay in bed for a half hour dreading moving. Now I understand the phrase "that's going to hurt in the morning." But get up I did. Gritting my teeth against the pain like my brothers taught me.

But it was more than just physical pain I was gritting my teeth against. It seems that whenever I get things in my life to click, it doesn't hold for very long. That's how my life feels right now; somewhere between being perfect and falling completely apart. And it's probably my fault anyway. I have a tendency to bring things upon myself. And when things like this happen, I look at things differently. Like, instead of just accepting what someone says like I usually do, I start to wonder about it. I don't think too deep about it, but just deep enough to hurt. And believe me, it hurts.

Since Beau left, my parents have been trying even harder to not let me grow up, keeping me on a tighter leash. I'm not sure how it happened. I use to have a curfew of 10:30 on week nights and 11:30 on weekends. Now my curfew is straight up 10:00 for any day. I don't know if my parents are trusting me less (I don't know why they would, I haven't done anything to lose their trust) or if they think by keeping me home I'll somehow not grow up. But that, in it's own way, hurt as well. I lost my freedom the same time I lost my brother. Harsh.

And I miss Beau a lot. Right now, sitting here, listening to cd's Dallas gave me, being bruised, battered, and broken, I feel so alone. I want to talk to someone. To actually be face to face with someone and have a real conversation. Not light chatting, not an interrogation, not arguing. A conversation. But I doubt that will happen. It's been a long time since I've had a conversation that's actually done me any good.

Oh, well. Life goes on. School has started. I'll survive. And work on my book. It keeps me from too much insanity. Bruised. Battered. Broken. I'll heal eventually.

Smile. It makes life better. :)