One of the best T-shirts I ever saw said, i was happy once, but i’m better now.
I’m going home today. Most people would say that they were “happy” about that. And I guess I am. I mean I am.
I said good-bye to Martha and Juliet. Martha’s staying. For a few more weeks, anyway. Then she’s going to live with her aunt. She still isn’t saying much. I think they’re keeping her on the Wonder Drug. Poor kid. She definitely got a bad deal.
Juliet is leaving next week. It turns out her parents are super religious. Juliet told me they think she’s possessed by demons. Seriously. They believe in that kind of stuff. They want her to let the people at their church do some kind of healing ritual for her. She says she’s thinking about it. It’s weird, but I used to think she was the craziest one in here. Now she seems kind of normal. I don’t know if she’s gotten less crazy or I’ve gotten more crazy. Probably it’s a little of both.
Oh, yeah, then there’s Squirrel. I still don’t get him. Juliet said she’ll find out what his story is and let me know. She won’t, though. She’ll forget about me as soon as she’s out of here. Maybe even as soon as I walk out the door. She doesn’t want to remember, and I can’t blame her. She’ll probably convince herself we were all ghosts, or a dream.
I wonder how many of us there are all over the world, how many kids in how many hospitals. How many Alices and Bones and Juliets and Rankins. How many Sadies and Marthas and Squirrels. How many Jeffs. And I wonder how many of us get out. I wonder how many of us are “happy.”
I had my last session with Cat Poop—I mean, Dr. Katzrupus—this morning. Only it turns out it wasn’t my last one. I’ll be seeing him once a week. At least for a while. I’m okay with that.
He said that I have to remember that even though I’ve changed a lot in here, I’m going back to a world that hasn’t changed. That’s going to be the hardest part, I think, seeing all the people who were in my life before. They don’t know what’s happened to me. They’re going to expect to have the same old Jeff back. But I’m not the same old Jeff. I hope they’re ready for that. I hope I’m ready for that.
I’m still kind of a mess. But I think we all are. No one’s got it all together. I don’t think you ever do get it totally together. Probably if you did manage to do it you’d spontaneously combust. I think that’s a law of nature. If you ever manage to become perfect, you have to die instantly before you ruin things for everyone else.
It kind of feels like the last night of summer camp. For a couple of years I went to this place called Camp Mikigwani. For the two weeks I was there I hated everything about it, the swimming, the campfire sing-alongs, the stupid crafts, the other kids. Everything. Then, the night before my parents came to pick me up, I’d start to wish I could stay for another two weeks. One summer I even asked my parents if I could. They said yes, and for about three seconds I was really happy. But as soon as they drove away, I started hating the place again and was miserable for another two weeks.
Part of me wants to stay here where people sort of understand me. But I know I have to leave. My vacation is over, and it’s time to let some new campers in.
I haven’t decided what to do about the Allie thing yet. Maybe I’ll call her. Or maybe I’ll send her here to talk to Dr. Katzrupus for forty-five days. I don’t think she’d hold out as long as I did. I bet he’d break her in two weeks. She can’t keep a secret.
Not that there are any secrets to keep anymore. I think I’ve told all of mine. Well, most of them. The big ones. You’ve got to keep some stuff to yourself, otherwise there’s no reason for people to get to know you.
I almost forgot. It’s Valentine’s Day. Allie and I always used to give each other silly valentines, mostly to make us feel better about not having real valentines to give them to. But also because we really do care about each other. Did care? Do care? I don’t know.
This will be the first year we haven’t done it. But what if I was going to give her a valentine? What would it say? Maybe something like this:
I’m sorry I couldn’t talk to you. I’m sorry I hurt you. I didn’t mean to. You’re my best friend, and I want you back. I know I’m sort of a different person now, but I hope you’ll give me a chance. I have a lot to tell you.
Love,
Jeff
I could never send that. It’s too sappy. Even worse than hugging. Still, Allie kind of falls for that sort of thing. Maybe it would work. Or maybe she would just tear it up. I really don’t know anymore.
I wonder if my parents would think it was weird if I asked them to stop at the card store on the way home.