Sinusitis

So I've been sick for what? 7 days now? I've never been this sick. I was terrified when I found out that blood was coming out of my nose along with my mucus. I was coughing out blood too. Some guessed that I might have pneumonia, but that directed me to thought of death.

I didn't go to school on Monday, but on Tuesday, I had no choice but to go. Because of a stupid annual math exam. The cafeteria had no damn tissue box so I had to get up and go to the bathroom to blow my nose with toilet paper. When I got up from my table, some stared at me but I didn't care, I was on a mission to stop dripping of mucus onto my exam. I no longer cared how much questions I got correct or incorrect, I just wanted to walk away from school and forget everyone. Wednesday came, I stayed home, I didn't even feel like like going to the church service up at Makawao. My mom said the chilly air there would make me worse. So that night I stayed home and thought of whether I should return to school on Thursday. Thursday reminded me that in my fifth period class I had a debate to do in Chemistry. My group consisted of six people but only me and Rzz actually cared. I knew that Rzz could defend herself but I at least wanted to support her by my presence. I knew I had to make up for the rest of our team. She was the one who spoke mostly, I only got up like twice and said something minimum. One of the guy's on the other team decided to be a dick to me [pardon my language] and said "SPEAK LOUDER" in a harsh tone, and that's when our teacher said something about me being sick. I then murmured to the side, "Bitch". Chemistry, in general, is boring, science is so NOT my thing, people say our teacher sucks and she doesn't deserve the title as "teacher." But I'm like "fuck it." LOL. Anyway, I was still bleeding from my nose that Thursday morning, I felt worse. I knew that I shouldn't have gone to school that day. During recess, I called my mom to let her know that I wanted to come home, she knew what state I was in. One period later, there's a phone call with the message of my ride being in front of the office. I was so glad I was going home. There at least I could put my head down and not care about anyone.

I was wrong, I had my mom to think of. She was still sick, but she was getting better. I remember that last week when she was sick, I wasn't much of a help to her. I wasn't the best nurse around. But now that I was sick, I felt guilty and horrible. So I tried my best to put a huge smile on my face and told her I felt a whole lot better...

It's Saturday now, I'm still telling her I feel good. But I think she knows my lies. She let me rest but I felt guilty. She worked so hard yesterday, she worked two hours cleaning the Bailey Museum, six hours at Raul's house, and still come home to sell pupusas for the hungry. I really wonder where she gets all her energy and motivation from. When I ask her these kinds of questions, she doesn't understand me.

I've been stressing out on Senior Project presentation, 'cause I haven't exactly written my speech or practiced anything yet. I have a lot of back work from being absent so much. I know we have a 5-day weekend, but I've already used up two without doing anything. I really hope I finish reading Jane Eyre and my speech and my powerpoint for Chem by tomorrow. It's just, I need to feel better and have motivation or inspiration. Whatever it is.

I'm supposed to go to church in a few hours, depending on how I feel. There are two reasons as to why I go to New Life Church. One, when the pastor holds his prayings, I get fascinated by everyone chanting and crying. Their faces are full of hope and desire. I admire Christians, they believe in someone who promises miracles. But the catch is too be able to serve him in the good and the bad, the bad meaning he's testing you to see if you really love him. Sometimes I wish I were like that. Quickly, I am reminded of how weak of a person I am. A little problem pops up and I'm already finding a way to rid myself from it. I should be able to stand up, chin high and let no one back me down. But I am so weak...
The second reason why I go to church, is to see this one guy. His name is the Spanish term for "Saints." I met him two years ago at the same church, we exchanged numbers, began texting and called each other. He asked me to be his girlfriend but I denied. He's a couple years older than me, at that time I saw that as a turn off. He also has a mustache and that was another defect. Plus, he asked me out over a text. Who does that?! But now he returns to church, stares at me from across the room, and in one exchange of eyes, I managed to give out a quirky smile, he smiled back and lifted his eyebrows. He didn't speak to me until the third time he came to church. I was having a bad day that Sunday but It happened like this: I was sitting next to my dear mother and had two empty chairs to my right. During the church service, I would see him from the corner of my eye. As I recall, I had a runny nose (again) so I went ahead and grabbed tissue from the bathroom again. I returned to my seat and stared forward towards the preacher. I saw my mom make a gesture to someone on the right side of church, that's where he was sitting. I quickly glanced at him and saw that he was asking what happened to me. By gestures of course. Ten minutes later, by the corner of my eye I see him saying bye to his friend. I thought "Aww he's leaving, already?" Five minutes later, he randomly appears on my right. I was shocked and got a little nervous but it didn't prevent me from side-talking to him. He seemed to be in a playful, while I wasn't. We overheard the preacher say "cheer up those who are sad or mad" and Saints joked about that with me. Saying something about his cheerfulness being contagious. He was right though. I was happy that he approached me first, that he spoke to me, that he made me smile on my bad day. Church people are gossipers, but I admire how he didn't care what people thought, and sat by me anyway. That was the last time I saw him. It's been two weeks now but I am still hoping he comes back. He will make God and I happy he came to church. :) I should've made another post about him. Oh well what's done is done.

Tonight, mom promised me she'd take me out to dinner at Casanova. Just the two of us. Because it's better that way. We know each other and we can practically read our minds.

I'm not looking forward to Valentine's Day either. I just hope I get to see and speak with Saints. Yup, that's his Mexican name. I don't care. I don't care that he has a mustache/beard. I don't care that he's Mexican. I don't care that shaved his bald. I don't care if he does drugs/drinks/whatever. I don't care about his past. I just want another chance with him. I was foolish then, please come back?