Hlp me o lord

To: God
Re: Journeys and Destinations

Well, if there’s no specific point to being human and you say I should find my own, why shouldn’t I just forget everything that’s gone on these past few months (I really wish I could sometimes) and be a Christian again? It gave my life meaning, and it was working for me until you came along. In fact, it was the only thing that got me through a lot of very difficult times. It might not be a point that I came up with myself, but it was a point that was working, and my soul always seems to thwart any other points that end up creeping into my life.

There are a lot of things like that that aren’t technically impossible, but they’re so highly unlikely I don’t even think there’s a word for it. They could genetically modify pigs to have wings so they could fly too, you know.

The government are a lot smarter than people give them credit for though. They’ve set up this country perfectly to ensure that nobody is able to oust them from power. There’s never going to be a revolution because nobody has the time or money to be able to revolt long enough to make a difference. While people are trying to change the world, they still need to eat, bills still need to be paid and the world goes on. The political system is also set up so only people who are on the government’s side are allowed in, so there’s never going to be any real change. It’s not about your views or anything like that, it’s about having friends in high places, and it’s unlikely that any of those people in high places are going to have friends below them with the right kind of radical views.

The only people with the power to chance anything are mostly rich people who: A – are out of touch with the real world do see no need for change, and B – don’t want to change the system anyway because the system benefits them.

You can say what you like about religion, but if people still lived on religious principles like ‘love thy neighbour’ and ‘do unto others as you would have them do unto you’, then the world wouldn’t be the greedy free-for-all it is.

I don’t even think this planet is going to last long enough for the people who actually care about it enough to give up and leave for another planet. People pollute so much. We’re all going to be underwater from the melting ice caps soon, but nobody really cares, or at least they won’t until they find their homes flooded, and even then they’ll just move somewhere else. The government tax the hell out of cars and petrol and other polluting things and claim it’s to reduce pollution, but it doesn’t work. This government thinks the solution to every problem is to tax it. I wish they’d learn it doesn’t work. It just annoys everyone and makes everyone but the government worse off. It wouldn’t be so bad if they were going to channel the money into environmental charities or planting trees or even a non-environmental good cause, but I can’t see where it’s going other than their pockets.

That’s what this horrible planet is like. Everyone just trying to one-up each other. I mean, seriously, look at the news recently. Everything that’s going on with Georgia and Russia and all anyone’s worried about is how we messed up in the diving in the Olympics. Oh boo hoo, get over it. Still, it’s all the same principle, I suppose. One country being able to say they’re better than another, because everyone just getting along would be too easy. So, some countries are apparently better at diving than us. Big deal. It won’t make any difference, at least, not until half the country is underwater. It doesn’t matter that they have better health services and lower fuel prices too. Can we start a contest on that?

Oh, and while I’m ranting (because I’m getting into this now) and on the topic of fuel prices and pollution, companies like Shell and Esso and BP suck. They have things like electric and water powered cars and all sorts of other types of fuel that pollute less or not at all. Why do they not stop selling oil based fuel? Sure, it pollutes, but there’s too much money to be made from it. They want to milk the oil business for everything that it’s worth before they move onto other less damaging but less profitable avenues. They want to make billions rather than millions. They don’t do anything with the money either, it just sits in a bank account somewhere.

I’ve been thinking about my feelings recently, while Jack was in hospital. I’ve wasted too much time being upset and hating the world while Jack’s been here. Having Jack not there for that week was horrible and made me realise how much I really need to appreciate the time I do have with him. I’ve got the rest of my life to hate the world and be sad and upset and angry at everything, but I’ve only got, at best, 5 months left with Jack. I need to make the most of the time I’ve got, and worry about the bit afterwards when the time comes. I’ve got the chance to be happy now, however brief it might be, and I need to make the most of it while I still can. It’s probably bad for my mental health to bottle up my feelings like that, but I’m sure with the things that have happened to me throughout my life, I’m messed up enough as it is. Not sure how much worse I can really get, so might as well.

I haven’t heard from Damien since then. I wonder what he’s said to Michelle. I normally hate it when he keeps phoning and texting me, but I’m curious to know, but I don’t want to phone him or I’ll end up giving him the impression that I care about him.

It’s easy for me to push Damien away now, since he’s been replaced with someone much better in every way than him. Being with Jack has made me wonder what I ever saw in Damien. There were so many things I used to (and still do) hate about Damien, but there’s nothing like that with Jack. I love everything about him. All his little quirks and mannerisms, I love them all. The way I can tell when he’s thinking about kissing me because he’s got that smile he does just before he does it, or the way he strokes my thumb with his when we’re holding hands. So many little things like that that make me smile when I think about them. Jack’s going to be an impossible act to follow. I really can’t see myself having another boyfriend after Jack. Nobody else is even near to being as perfect as he is.

This bandage on my arm is really starting to annoy me now. I want it off. I keep knocking my arm on things too and it really hurts. Jack finds it funny that we’re both going to be going into hospital together in two weeks when I have my bandage taken off and he goes in for chemo again.

Well yeah, but that only works where there actually are positive outcomes.

I’m totally worn out, but in a good way. Okay, let’s do this in order…

Jack got home about twelve o’clock last Thursday and came right to my house. He was more excited than I’d ever seen him before. He wanted to know if I’d packed my things ready to go, which I had, although it had been difficult since he had refused to tell me where we were going, so I didn’t really know what to pack or how much to pack, since he hadn’t told me how long we were going for either. We went back to his house for a bit so he could pack his things too and say hello to his mum and Emily before we left. We all had lunch together then Jack decided it was time to go. Emily didn’t want Jack to go away and leave her again. I’d learnt that week that Emily needs someone to play with a lot, and I’d been on the receiving end of that, not that I really minded. It gave me something to do that week. It was like reliving the glory days in some way, getting back the childhood which in large part I never had, although I’m surprised I have any hair left by now. She spent half the week braiding, plaiting, styling and just about everything else you can do with hair to me. She wants to be a hairdresser when she’s older. She’s nine years old and already knows what she wants in life. I’m eighteen and still don’t know.

Anyway, me and Jack eventually got out of the house and into the car, where we sat and kissed for quite a while, during which I noticed out of the corner of my eye that on his way home from hospital he’d completely filled his car with petrol, so that meant we were going a fair way. We finally stopped kissing and went on our way, because I think at least I was going to suffocate if we didn’t stop because I can’t breathe at all when I kiss Jack and my heart beats like it’s just run a marathon.

So, we got going and it wasn’t too long before we were on the motorway driving along. We stopped a few times at the services on the way there, me still not knowing where we were going. I’m sure one of my treasured memories of Jack will be when we stopped at one of the services and they had a play park and Jack thought it would be a really good idea if we went on the see-saw. We were both totally too old and too big, and Jack ended up falling off backwards, bringing me crashing down to the ground and I fell off too, and we had the giggles for about 20 minutes after that. Everyone was looking at us which made it even funnier. We got the giggles in the car later too and Jack had to pull over so he could stop giggling and drive properly. We weren’t even giggling about anything in particular in the end, we were just giggling at us giggling. It was so funny.

Four hours after we left home, we were in London. It was amazing. We did so much. We stayed in a really nice hotel, in the same room in the same bed. Jack wasn’t sure if I’d be comfortable sleeping with him properly, since up until now it’s always been half accidental (even if it has been pretty much every night), although I honestly don’t know how he could have thought I’d be uncomfortable sleeping with him at this point, given that we’ve done so pretty much every night at home. It’s not really a big step to do it on purpose and in pyjamas now. I insisted on sharing the same room with him, and with a double bed, not two singles. He didn’t seem too upset when I suggested that either. I wish he’d realise that I’m so unbelievably close to him that I’d do just about anything to stay close to him. I don’t think I’d be able to bear sleeping in a different bed to him when I know he’s right there.

It was great that night, sleeping in bed properly together, all cosy and warm under the bedsheets and talking and snuggling. Normally when we sleep together, it’s because one of us has fallen asleep on the other one’s bed, so it was nice to be all warm and comfortable and talking about different things. I honestly don’t know how we manage to find so much to talk about. If he didn’t stop to kiss me every so often, I’d probably end up losing my voice.

The next day was great. We went around and did loads of tourist stuff. We went and saw Big Ben and Buckingham Palace, and Windsor Castle with the changing of the guard and all that stuff. Westminster Abbey was such a beautiful building. I loved it. We went to see the houses of parliament too and there were a load of people protesting there. According to the locals, there are always people protesting there about something or other (and see how much difference it makes?). One woman chained herself to the gates, and it was quite interesting watching the police trying to remove her.

Saturday was good as well. We went on the London Eye, and you could see so far into the distance from the top, it was incredible. After that we went to Piccadilly Circus and then to Hamley’s to find a present for Emily. I wish I was a kid, because it was huge! The amount of different toys they had in there was just unbelievable. I found it hard enough trying to help Jack find something for Emily, I can’t imagine what it would have been like if I was a kid trying to pick one toy for myself. In the end, we got her one of those doll heads with the hair on them so next time Emily doesn’t have anyone to play with, at least my hair will get spared. I remember I used to have one of those doll heads when I was little. I think I got it for Christmas when I was eight. I cut all the hair off of it not long after Mum died. I ended up breaking a lot of my toys after Mum died, since I didn’t want to play with them any more. I had nothing to take out my anger on apart from my toys, so they nearly all got broken and ruined, and of course Dad never got me any more toys after that.

We went in Harrods too, and bought some little things just to say that we’d bought something in Harrods. It was so expensive and extravagant in there, I felt so totally out of place.

We went to Legoland on Sunday which was really good fun, even though it was insanely busy. Jack managed to get me on so many rides there that there would normally be no way I’d go on, but we had so much fun. They had a stunt show there with insane people doing things like throwing themselves off a lighthouse head first into the water below with a really childish but utterly gripping story behind it. I thought it looked terrifying to do, but Jack thought it would be the most awesome job in the world. Yeah, if you have a death wish…

On Monday we went to Madame Tussaud’s and then to The Dungeons where I unfortunately had plenty of opportunities to show off what a total scaredy cat I am (even more than on the rides at Legoland). I held onto Jack’s hand so hard all the way around there. I was quite glad to leave there by the end. Jack seemed to enjoy it though, which is what matters more.

Tuesday was my absolute favourite day by far. We went shopping in the morning in Covent Gardens where Jack ended up buying me the most beautiful necklace in the world. It’s so beautiful. It’s got a little ruby in the shape of a teardrop with 5 diamonds around it on a silver chain. I hate to think how much it cost, and Jack won’t tell me. I haven’t taken it off since. I told Jack how beautiful it was and he told me it’s no more beautiful than I am. He’s so romantic. He’s not afraid to tell me how much he loves me. Damien would never do anything like that in front of other people, let alone in a public place. It was all I could do to get Damien to put his arm around me sometimes if someone else was in the room. Jack will stop to kiss me in even the most crowded place. I love him so much.

We went to the west end after that and saw the matinee of Joseph and the Amazing Technicolour Dreamcoat which was absolutely fantastic, then that night we went to see The Phantom of the Opera, which was such a beautiful play. I’ve wanted to see the film ever since it came out, but I still haven’t been able to get enough money out of Dad to buy the DVD. It made me cry twice. There was so much I could really understand and appreciate in it. That part where Christine visits her father’s grave and sings that song had me in floods of tears. Every line in that song reminded me of Mum. That last bit too, it really sent me over the edge: “Too many years
fighting back tears, why can't the past just die? Wishing you were somehow here again, knowing we must say goodbye, try to forgive, teach me to live, give me the strength to try…”. That song could have been written for me, it fit so perfectly. Then at the end, when the Phantom was left all alone and the one person he loved and loved him left, I cried again. I couldn’t bear it. It was so strong. I’ve been watching clips of the film on Youtube since I got home, and it made me cry all over again. I need to get it on DVD. It might make me cry every time, but it’s such a beautiful (even if it is upsetting) story.

We meant to come home yesterday but we ended up going on a boat ride on the Thames, and by the time we were done with that it would have meant driving home in the dark, so we ended up staying another night and going to the Natural History Museum while we were there.

We spent today driving home again, which was good fun too. We only stopped at the services once this time. I brought my iPod with me and Jack plugged it into his CD player so that he could hear how bad my taste in music is. He actually really enjoyed listening to my music though. Damien was always trying to put his music on my iPod because he said my tastes in music were awful, not that I ever asked him to listen to it. Jack’s taken half of the songs on my iPod and put them on his own now too. We got home about three hours ago, and although we both had such a good time, I don’t think I could take much more excitement. I’m happy to be home again. I think I need a few days to recover from it all.

We’re going to go into town tomorrow to get all the photos we took developed. Jack bought a camera especially for it, and I really want to see the photos. We took loads. I hardly have any photos of Mum (Dad threw most of them out after she died, and I only managed to rescue a few), and when Jack’s gone I want to be able to look back at photos of him.

I also did a little experiment when I went. I didn’t tell Dad I was going. I was out of the house for seven days, and if he noticed I was gone, he hasn’t said anything. That’s comforting (being sarcastic, in case you can’t tell). I could be murdered in my own bedroom and he wouldn’t notice.

Gabriel, I asked Camael to hit you. If she takes it that far, it’s not my fault. If you start watching me again, I’ll ask her to do it again, and I won’t be held responsible for whatever she does. Maybe it’ll make you think twice next time. (Of course, your only way around it is to ensure you never leave me with Camael again so I can’t ask her, so I win either way).

My life sounds totally like some soap opera when you put it like that. My life is far too crazy to be real. My life’s not quite good enough for EastEnders though. It’s more depressing than entertaining. It would need to be more violent and sadistic to make it good enough for EastEnders. I never did like EastEnders, or any other soap opera for that matter. Now I think about it, they remind me of Camael. People complaining about their almost non-existent problems. I just want to say ‘You think you’ve got it bad? Get over it’. Recently though, I can appreciate these soap operas a bit more. They’re getting so extreme they’re unreal, so I can almost relate to it. The main difference between my life and soap operas though is that soaps are works of fiction, the product of mad, sadistic imaginations, whereas my bad luck is actually bad luck (although I do still wonder). That kind of stuff happens to me, and I don’t manage to attract millions of viewers.

If I’d known you were going to leave me with Camael for a month, I probably would never have suggested you visiting your kids. Especially if I had known that my world was going to collapse around me while you were gone. Camael made it even worse than it already was.

Are there any nice angels on this list? So far, everyone I’ve spoken to has either upset or really annoyed me, yourself included. I want it to be Michael’s turn. He makes me feel better.

-Poppy