Marguerite, holding her face: You know what makes me crazy? I'm sorry, can I say this? *Marguerite turns towards her (ex) husband with a glare* Marguerite, getting up: You know what makes me nuts? The fact that we could be together here together... Chad: Marguerite- Marguerite, holding up her hand: Sharing our night, spending our time and you are gonna choose someone else to be with- Chad: That's not what I'm- Marguerite: No, you are! Chad: That's not- Marguerite: Yes, Chad, that's exactly what you're doing: You could be here with me or be there with them- *Marguerite holds her hands up and glares at him. She drops her hands* Marguerite: As usual, guess which you pick! Chad: Marguerite- I have to go-! Marguerite: No, Chad, you do not have to go to another party - with the same twenty jerks you already know. *Marguerite backs away from him as he walks towards her* Marguerite: You could stay with your wife on her fucking birthday and you could- *Marguerite scoffs* Marguerite: God forbid. *Marguerite turns back to him as she glares* Marguerite: Even see my show! *Marguerite begins to walk away as he tries to touch her* Marguerite: And I know in your soul it must drive you crazy that you won't get to play with your little girlfriends– *She growls at him as he scoffs* Chad: You're crazy- Marguerite: No, I'm not, no I'm not! And the point is, Chad, that you can't spend a single day- *She points at him* Marguerite: That's not about you and you and nothing but you.... Mahvelous novelist, you! Isn't he wonderful, just twenty-eight! *Marguerite turns away as she covers her face and wipes her eyes* Marguerite: The savior of writing! You and you and nothing but you- Miles and piles of you! *Marguerite turns back to him and huffs* Marguerite: Pushing through windows and bursting through walls. En route to the sky! And I… *Marguerite wipes her face* Marguerite: I swear to God, I'll never understand! How you can stand there, straight and tall, and see I'm crying and not do anything at all… -------

November 23rd, 2017

The house is… empty. Strangely so. It’s Thanksgiving, and the family, for the first time, is not here.

I find a small bright spot in that I didn’t need to clean the entire house. It was an exhausting task.

I pretend that everything is okay. That my parent are in the same room. That this is a normal Thanksgiving, and not the last one I’ll ever have.

I miss the stuffing.

I think I cried the day before.

December 24th, 2017

Winter break. My dad and I prayed for my mom a few days ago.

It would be one of my last.

Christmas Eve marches on as normal. I give my grandparents gifts. I give my parents gifts. Art projects, all four people love them.

Around the time of the prayer, my parents said they would try it again. I was actually happy.

When night came, I was scared. They didn’t come downstairs until late. But they finally did. We had a happy Christmas Eve.

December 25th, 2017

It’s weird, still, to have the big house empty on the holiday. But we make the most of it. There’s more presents to open, and a few hours later, everyone is out in the snow, in an free for all snowball fight. We’re all laughing and giggling and happy, hopeful for the future. A good Christmas.

December 31st, 2017

I’m filled with hope for the new year. We watch the Kingsmen movies, starting late enough that we could stay up and toast. My parents had champagne, I had sparkling cider.

I thought they had fallen asleep.

They hadn’t.

January 1st, 2018

My dad and I go to a bookstore. I have so, so much fun. After, he comes into my room. The small bit of hope I had is shattered as he tells me he’s moving out. I can’t react properly. My mask, which I thought was gone, comes back full force.

February 14th, 2018

I want to have a fun time with my dad. I’m too sick to.

March 30th, 2018

My 17th is… a quiet affair. I get some books.

April 20th, 2018

I move out of my house in twelve hours. I break down crying at the end of it. I don’t want to leave.

I don’t want to say goodbye.

August 12th, 2018

The summer has been… rocky, in terms of my relationship with my dad. My mom cuts me off from him.

I do not protest.

September 23rd, 2018

My dad gets married again, five months after the divorce finalizes.

September 24th, 2018

I want to tear off my mask. It’s glued onto my face. It’s glued onto my face. The anniversary is in. It’s in under three weeks. I want to scream or cry but all I can do is… write. Write, and wish I could scream and cry.