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| September 22, 2001 |
| I awoke this morning at 4:30. Through confusion and heartache I followed my stomach to the bathroom and vomited twice. Cold yellow tile caressed my spirit. You were not there. You will never be there. It didn't surprise me, you never really were. I remember your tales of how you thought I should be treated...how wrong he was, and stupid. I assume conquring me was a personal vendetta gone wrong. I will never know. The events of this year have brought so much hurt to the surface. I find myself in a very bad situation and I cannot be comforted by anyone. I try to empty my thoughts, I try not to notice the change in me, the heart beating. I try. I know that I can always be proud of myself. I did my best, but that wasn't good enough. Not for you anyhow. That's okay though, I got something too. I wonder what I was thinking at certain points, and then I realize that not only does it not matter, but that I don't really care. I have loved twice now in my life. Twice I have been loved back. Once, I remembered not to run. |
| How does your heart feel when you are inside me? not your physical self, but your soul? How do I feel to you? I know that you said that your love for me had faded and transformed...do you mean it? Or are you only hiding the heart that you fear I'd break? We haunt one another, I asked you why... Your response was stumbling and unforgetable, "better to have you as my friend than to have lost all of you." Am I as stupid as john in thinking that you care still? Do I actually have to hear that youd rather only have my body and not my heart? we have been through so much...we're coming up on years you know that? Maybe I do feel that you are my safety net...my place where the fantasy of love might exsist, where once there was love even if only for a breif moment. I don't know whats in your heart. Maybe I never will. you tease me with words like "I have something to say to you buy I will put it off as long as possible" what am I supossed to think of that? I cannot fight the insane thoughts that I have every time I look at another man....all I think is that he's not you and never will be. My eyes close and I wish for you. Always, only you to fill my void. I fear your reply, yet still I wait. I need to know if love still exists in you for me. I need to know if your heart and mine will ever combine again? or am I only a fun night and a good friend? |
| March 17th 2002 |
| March 31st 2002 I am amazed at my own solidity sometimes. I don't know how I got here, but I am amazed and frightened. I recieved a call yesterday that my mother was in the hospital and I barely flinched. She hasn't been well lately anyhow, like for the last 10 years at least. It seems that her drinking has finally officially signed her death certificate. The last and final warning came yesterday that she needs to stop. Will she? Doubtful. She is inclined to believe that we are all her problem. It has nothing to do with her or her own actions you see. It is because her own family doesn't have compassion for her illness. Well, no we don't. This has gone on far too long and I as her daughter have cried too many times for this anymore. Sometimes I feel that I am being a bitch or evil or whatever, but I work 50 hours a week and I am rarely home these days....think there might be a connection? I just don't want to deal with that shit antmore. I love her, but shes not my mother anymore. She faded and became someone else. I know that I have my own issues as someone used to tell me, but at least I can deal with those and leave them behind me. I guess I might be a fun treat for a psychiatrist.....who knows. I am done with pain in my heart. I am done with the drama. I found what I was looking for, and he left me. But at least now I know what I wanted and I had a tatse of happiness. Contentment rides on my shoulders now, soft, sad but surely real. I have no one who wants to listen to this bullshit, so here I am typing madly into my little computer wondering if any of it matters? TOO LITTLE TOO LATE. It is easter morning. I remember when I was a little girl I would wake up and on my bed with me there would be a huge basket full of celebratorty crap so to speak and I would smell delicious lamb cooking and know that I was safe. I would see my father that day and there would be like laughter in my house. Holidays used to be good. Now I wake in my dank basement and wonder if everyone made it through the night. Afraid to peek in that last door down the hall to check. So I don't. I slink past it like a criminal. How pathetic am I? I awoke today to a ham, so I guess we are suppossed to be celebrating. Weird though that I know in a few hours I will be seated next to my mother thinking of anything I can to not look, talk or listen to her incoherant self. I wish she was here. I won't even hug this woman who lives inside her now. She smells and she looks so old and dead. I told my ex that I still love him after a year or so of us being broken up. It didn't really seem to phase him. I don't know what to think about that . I do still adore him so, and I don't know why he keeps me around, quick free sex? HA! oh well. Meanwhile, I take hundreds of baby pictures a week and I see dozens of happy people. It makes me feel good that I can lend a hand in that smile. You know? I have fun with the babies, they don't know any better and they don't care. They reach out and hug me as if they know that I need that. I like that about them. Perceptive little buggers. I have now rambled and you must be bored. |