I don't know where to start. . . no longer sure when my bad mood began, what the exact trigger was, or why I can't seem to shake it. I have two ways to go on this; in or out. But if I go in, I have to go all in. I'd have to be the best- put in the most hours, know the most people, pass exams, impress. I'd have to care- ha. And I'd have to give up a lot of other things, a lot of things I'm not ready to lose. I'm sick of being judged, sick of that one question and the worried looks with my response, the nervous answers telling me its okay. I know its friggin okay- I don't care why the hell should you? Why don't people hate you? Why don't you annoy them like you annoy me? And if you don't annoy them like you annoy me- then go talk to them and leave me the hell alone. Because you drive me crazy, frustrate me and more than anything you make me feel stupid- which I fucking hate! I'm not stupid which I know but when you give me step by step instructions, make decisions for me, and waste my time with making things that don't matter thats how I feel. I don't think at work, theres no point in me being there other than to do data entry for you. What do you do all day- because everything we do, I do. But they like you and it sucks. You all had this idea, we had this idea. We discussed this, that I could be good at this, and now it sounds like its just me. You all seem to think I should do something different or stick it out. I just don't know that I can do that- know there will be sacrifices, big sacrifices but right now its the only option that makes sense to me. And I wish you would all agree again. I left trying not to cry, I'm not sad just mad. Just frustrated, with nothing I can do and no way I can fix it. I had to wear it to volleyball, I wore pants. Pants to cover it because its not a conversation I want to have, not something I want to have to explain. I wish I hadn't said anything to anyone, because when you apologized I almost fell apart. When you looked me in the eye with all that worry and genuine concern it was real and permenant and a pain that everyone would know about. I don't want to see you, I mean I do but I don't. I don't want to be questioned, to be lectured. I already know and already hate it but your "encouragement" is only going to make things worse. . . . word vomit.

The old one was different. The old one made things possible- allowed me to play before I was supposed to, before I was ready. The old one represented how hard I had worked and how far I had come. Don't get me wrong, I hated it. I hated the daily reminder of what I had loss. But in the end, that brace marked a stage in a long battle, the final stage. That brace came off... and this one won't.
I ran with it on today, the first time I'd put it on. Its bigger than I realized. It limits not just my side motion but also my ability to bend. It felt tight and it scratches my other knee- its just not comfortable. It's stupid and I'll get used to it, but I really don't want to. I don't want to get used to wearing it, to bringing it with me, to needing it.
What does this one represent other than pain and weakness?

I knew my parents moving away would have consequences. I knew that I wouldn't go back there for summers, for school breaks, for holidays. I knew I would grow apart from the majority of people I had known for as long as I could remember. But I also felt sure that the important relationships, the forever friends would be just that... forever. I haven't lost confidence in life long friendships, just my ability to predict who those friends would be.
I actually wish you hadn't invited me. I would have been hurt, but at least that message would have been clear. Instead, I'm hurt and confused. Unsure of what message you were sending; hoping you just don't realize how little you made me feel, hoping it wasn't intentional. But then the question is what was your intention; Was it to tell me what an awful friend I've been? Was it to tell me I didn't matter anymore? Was it to tell me that I didn't fit into this world, your world? OR Was it to give me a chance to step up? To prove I was fun? To prove I could fit in? To prove I could be a good friend?
You know what, it doesn't matter what your message was, because all of those were the messages I received, all of those are the feelings I associate with that moment, that memory. And I deserve none of those things, I owe you none of those things. I may not have been the best friend; the best at keeping in touch, the best at being around, the best at fitting in, but friendship is a two way street...
I'd like to fight with you, to have an all out yelling match- just like you used to want to do. I'm finally ready. I'm finally hurt enough to say all the things that you need to hear. You got to send your message, but what about mine? That's selfish and its stupid but I'm angry and I'm sad. And maybe none of this will matter one week from now, one month from now, one year from now... but right now I hate this, I hate it a lot.