I'm sure this happens to ya'll but have you ever put on a song and you get these flash backs of another time when you were listening to that same song, something that you either wouldn't remember nearly as clearly, if at all, or just something that you wouldn't think about without it popping into your head because of the song? That just happened to me. Right now I'm listening to Melissa Ferrick and her songs make me think of walking forty minutes to college in three inches of snow with flakes blowing in my face and my fingers freezing in my gloves. I can see the gradual lightning of the sky as I get further away from the house before my eight a.m. class and feel the numbness in my legs as the cold sinks deeper into me as I continue trudging through the snow with my packsack weighing me down. And I can see the spot where I slipped and fell on the way home. I'm cold to. Isn't that weird how a song can just make you think of these things. They're like little bookmarks in your memory helping you find your place in the past. It's nice how words and a tune can do that, bring back things that you had forgotten - not that I really want to remember those cold walks - and just make them more intense so you can relive them in a way. The power of words is quite amazing when you think of it. They can make you laugh, cry, smile, and remember. They leave a lasting impression in not only those who have read or heard them, but in those who also write and say them, and those that just get glimpses along the way. Words keep the soul immortal and for anyone who writes their thoughts, feelings, opinions, and stories, they become immortal entering into the lives of future generations to live again through them and with them.
I want to be a writer. To touch people with my writing and to make a difference in the world. Big or small I want to leave long lasting impressions with people and make them think in bigger and more open terms. If my writing only ever does that for one person, I will consider it a success. It may take the rest of my life to touch just that one person, but with one person seeing differences because of something I wrote there is always a chance others in the future will as well. It only takes one seed to grow a flower, but that one flower is enough to produce many others...I think that made sense.
Anyways that wasn't quite what I came here to write about, these songs just got me a little sided track. What I'm really here for is to talk a bit about my trip I just came home from and some stuff connected to that.
So yeah, I went on a bit of a trip this past week with my mom. I went home sunday night and we left monday morning. Monday we stayed in a city five hours south of my hometown, the next night we stayed in a town about an hour south of there where my brother now works, and the next two nights we stayed in another city about an hour south of there where my grandparents, aunt and cousin live. The first day was pretty good. It was just me and my mom and though I didn't talk a whole lot that day, I did say some stuff and it went pretty well. The next day I was already getting depressed in the morning and just kept building all day. I missed Lisa something fierce and there were just a number of things that kept my mind on her when I know thinking about her sometimes makes my depression worse. So, needless to say I said a lot less that day, though my mom didn't seem to notice since I usually am quiet anyway or I just hide my feelings good. We met up with my brother and let me just say, he used to be the bad one in the family. He's stolen money from me and my mom before I assume for drugs, and he was pretty much just a big jerk a lot of the time. I was more of the goodie goodie in my brother and sister's eyes. I was the baby so they took that to mean I was the favorite and I was good in school so my mom was proud of me. So my brother was bad and I was good - I'm not trying to yank my own chain here, there is a point to this. It seems though that somewhere along the way we have sort of switched places now. He has a job doing what he has always wanted to do, he's making pretty good money, he's calmed way down with the partying and pot, and he's got control of his life. My mom is proud of him and is happy he is doing so well now. Where as I am just barely employed, depending on my mom to pay my rent, I'm a lesbian, I have a girlfriend I met online, I don't talk and I am stubborn to boot. In short, I'm not exactly the person my mom would have expected me to turn into. I'm actually sort of jealous of my brother to. Doing what he's wanted to do, what he actually went to college for, and supporting himself. Oh well, that'll come for me someday.
The third day into our trip we went to stay with my grandparents and we were there two nights. They don't have a clue about my sexuality and with my mom, I'll use Lisa's explanation here, I'm a box. She says that my mom loves me and listens about me coming out when she is alone to deal with it and as soon as there is someone else there she just shuts the box and locks it. So in that way, in her mind she accepts that I am a lesbian and that I am with Lisa, but outside her mind she is still trying to make it seem that I'm not. That, that part of me doesn't exist for real only in our minds. It is so frustrating and maddening. I bought a book about the rise and fall of gay culture. My mom had no problem with me buying it, but as soon as we walked out of the store with my book in hand, she said that I CAN'T take it into my grandparents house with me and, in fact, back at that car she buried it in a bag under everything in the trunk of the car so there would be no chance anyone would get a glimpse of the title. It was like she was just throwing the gay me in the trunk and hiding me away and only the straight me was aloud to set foot in the house. Trust me, that's not a pleasant feeling being hidden away like that. It's worse than being in the closet, cause the closet I was in myself and no one else was putting me there. But in the box, I am being put there by someone else and for their selfish reasons. When we got home, she said that she didn't think the family was ready to hear about my sexuality, of course they aren't. They won't be ready until about five minutes after I've told them. I think it is her that isn't ready for the family to know, because that opens her and not just me to judgement. They won't judge, that side of the family I know will be fine with my sexuality, but I think she fears being blamed for raising me wrong. I'm ready to be out to everyone, but do I have to wait until everyone around me is ready to hear it for themselves or for others to hear who I am? No one tells me they're straight, or waits to make sure I'm ready to hear they're in love with someone of the opposite sex, we shouldn't have to either. I would love to be able to just take Lisa into my arms surrounded by both sides of my family and everyone that knows me and just kiss her, deep, passionate, and long. If I had a wish that would be it, to just kiss her infront of everyone and no one, whether they knew before or not, would think a thing of it. Where's my genie when I need her?
After the first day of the trip, my amount of talking was way down. The majority of what I said consisted of yeahs, oh yeahs, mmm hmms, and ohs. I'm a great conversationalist as you can see. My mom doesn't understand my silence. Actually now-a-days she doesn't understand much about me. To her I am the most stubborn person anyone will ever meet, mostly just because I don't have my licence and won't say more than I'll get it someday when I'm asked about it. It's up to me to get it and when I get it, telling me a milliion times that it's about my independance and all that doesn't do anything but make me be more stubborn about getting it cause I don't want to give anyone the satisfaction.
I think this will have been our last trip together. The next time I'm able to go somewhere I hope Lisa will be the one I'm with. Now that she's in my life, going somewhere and staying away from her for a while, just takes too much out of me. I missed her so much since we couldnt talk, though we emailed once. At least if I go away for work, I'm kept busy a lot of the time, so only have some of the time to really think about her and wish she was there. Going with my mom, if I had been awake 24hrs a day I probably would have thought of her for 23hrs. The last hour would have been my futile attempt to pay attention to what was being said to me and the small distraction that gave me. I love you so so so much sweety, you're the only one I want to be with and do things with. |
