December_26

    I haven't cried in months, probably because I hold it all inside. Each day I cry a small tear and keep it locked deep within the confines of my bitter lonely soul. Everyday is a constant battle against the anxiety and longing that I am doomed to endure each terribly prolonged and melodramatic day.
     No one sees past the daily mask of happiness. It's all a show. Perhaps I'm the greatest broaway actress that there ever could be. Maybe I'd play the part of Roxie from the musical Chicago. There are times I look back on my life and see how maipulative I have been without even realizing it.
     There are times I feel so loved, and yet I always feel unloved. Invisily trapped in elementary school. Those were the days, competing for attention. Trying so hard to fit in, to be heard, to be needed, even to be wanted. These are the things everybody wants through some part or all of their life. I guess I still haven't gotten past these inner wants and desires. I'm not ashamed to admit that my inner child still screams for me to obey, still yields to the same juvenile fears.
     My father died and part of me died as well. My heart broke and a piece is left missing to this day. My being is incomplete without him. I don't know how to make it better. each day it only seems to get worse, and the aching reaches deeper into my heart. I'm losing myself in the pain and finding myself enjoying the wallowing more and more.
     I can feel, at times, the pulse of life coursing through me and around me. I'll stop and wonder to myself where it comes from, but there is no one to give me an answer. At other times I can feel it slipping away. These only last a moment, they fade away as quickly as they come. I can look out of my body and back into it, wishing I could understand where the energizer battery is, what makes the soul tick.
    When dad died I never really cried, I mean I came into school the next day and just continued on with life. I kept it all in and still do. What people have seen or heard about it is only the tip of the iceburge. I felt I had to be the strong one, be a pillar for my mother. She always looks to be as her guiding light, she doesn't realize that i'm walking blind through a place I don't know or understand.
     Maybe I'm just so scared of crying and letting it out because they maybe it would be like letting go of him. I already have so few memories of dad. It gets harder everyday to remember all the little things...the way he smelled, the way he looked, the way he spoke, ate, moved, etc. Who's going to remember for me when I get older. I lost so much time with him when I was little cause I was always to afraid to ask for it. And now I don't have any time with him at all. I was always so distant, and it's effected the way I handle relationships.   But that's a whole other saga. And i'm tired and worn/torn. G'nite.