a big, red, bubbling scab

I'm in history and since i've got nothing better to do really, i thought i'd come on here, again.
i've wanted to write an entry about my relationship with my mother for a while, and keep forgetting somehow or i keep getting something else to inspire an entry.
pretty much ever since i started seeing jordan i've been distanced from my mother, as though we both feel i'm too grown up to climb into her bed every morning for a cuddle, or to sit beside her on the green recliner while she reads a book and plays with my hair.
and i never talk to her about my problems anymore, as though by telling her the details of my life i'd be setting myself up for a mass interrogation. and i can't really tell her anything anyway, without having to tell a dozen lies to come out with one line of truth.
but i wish i didn't have to hide things from her. i wish i could tell her the problems me and anthony have and the reasons we argue. i wish i could be honest with her and tell her how much i hate this school and how much i've hated it for the past year - and how i'm failing at it - for the first time in my life.
i wish i could just try and begin to describe this feeling i get of emptiness, and the razor-sharp knife edge i feel running across every pore on my body, tinged with acid, burning my skin until i'm nothing more than a red, bubbling scab.
but i can't, and i won't.
this week though, when i've been coughing and sneezing and shivering and crying, i've been able to cuddle up to her and give her huge hugs and feel like i'm still her little girl deep down, just hidden beneath layers upon layers of lies.
it's this time of year that we went and collected those crunchy brown leaves and placed them on a collage for her to keep forever. that was about nine years ago though.
sixteen soon. there was a time when i couldn't wait to be sixteen. now it's just another year further away from a time when i was able to do whatever i wanted and not be judged, or compared. it's strange but i feel as though i belong in neverland (no, not michael jackson's place) where i could have stayed young forever and would never have had to grow up and face all this reality.
it's all so ugly and real.