I Don't Want to Be Crazy by Samantha Schutz Read Free Book Online

graduating
at the end of this semester.
    There are so many things about him
that scare me,
but I cannot lose another chance to fear—
fear of being vulnerable,
fear of being hurt—
when all this time I’ve been hurting myself.
Putting the potential for damage
into someone else’s hands is scary.
I have to have control,
even if it is the power to self-destruct.
    Jeff scares me because he is smart,
because maybe I won’t understand
or maybe because he’ll make me stand up taller.
I’m scared of what will happen
when he leaves in two months,
and it’s only been a week and a day.
    I want things so bad
that I force them,
push them until they tear.
    Snow again.
Every time the seasons change
I think about the year before.
I wonder how I felt
and if I thought the snow was as beautiful
as it is right now.
    I have the dream again,
this time with glass.
I am standing near an ice sculpture
that is starting to melt.
My mouth is filled with glass
and I am bleeding and drooling all over myself.
I keep spitting out tiny shards,
but it is never enough.
    Jeff and I are going to a play
at a tiny theater in town.
I’ve bought a bottle of wine
for afterwards.
When I get to his apartment to meet him,
he isn’t there.
I call him over and over
from a pay phone outside.
It is raining and this feels like Jason.
For every minute I wait,
my anger builds.
For every time the bottle of wine clangs
against the stuff in my bag,
I hate him.
    He finally comes downstairs,
apologizes,
says he was watching Seinfeld at his neighbor’s,
and we walk to the play in silence.
    The play is bizarre
and there are dead baby dolls
hanging from the ceiling.
    Back at his apartment,
before I have a chance
to open the wine,
he tells me it’d be better
if we didn’t see each other
since he’s graduating
and then traveling in Europe.
He says it’s only going to get harder.
But I don’t feel any better.
It doesn’t feel any easier.
And I can’t believe
that it is happening again—
that I have found something good
only to have it taken away.
    We have an awkward good-bye hug
as I wait for Rachel and Rebecca to pick me up.
He kisses me on the forehead
right between my eyes—
as if I didn’t feel bad enough.
    This night was supposed to be fun—
a bottle of wine
and me staying over,
but now I am sitting on a bench
behind the dorms with Rebecca
and I am crying.
There is a pit in my stomach
and I plan to fill it with wine.
Half a bottle later,
I am in my room, cutting my braids out.
I know I am drunk.
I know I am being dramatic,
but it feels good.
    In the morning I don’t go to class.
I go to breakfast so late
they are already clearing for lunch.
When I get my cereal,
I see a ghost.
    There he is,
in the dining hall,
and I have never seen him here before.
We both smile
and he sits down with me.
He asks how I am
and I tell him about the bottle
meant for us
and the braids.
And it doesn’t hurt to see him
like I thought it would.

ii.
    I am home for winter break
and I can’t tell if things have gone back to normal,
or if this part of my life is the anomaly.
Things are how they were
just before I left for school last year.
I spend most of my days working at the theater
trying to earn some cash.
I sit in the booth and sell tickets
to rich people who think I’m retarded.
Men hit on me,
say, “You’re such a pretty girl.
Why don’t you smile?”
I’m in a tiny glass booth
making seven dollars an hour.
What do I have to smile about?
Usually I just bare my teeth
like an animal in response.
    I try to entertain myself in the booth
so I don’t go crazy.
When it’s quiet
I do crosswords and read.
When it’s busy
and a customer is being rude
and paying with a fifty or a hundred, I
pull out the yellow marker
to see if the bill is real.
It drives men nuts
and makes me laugh.
    At home it’s the usual drill.
My parents are constantly on top of me.
They want to know where I’m
going, and when I’ll be back.
    I try not to stay out too late
and dodge the same fight we