April 3rd 2001

Today was a very beautiful day, I can't of anything that was wrong with it. School was ok, I got back a Maths exam I failed but it didn't bother me. I remember that some months ago, a failed Maths exam was the reason I started cutting. It felt good to know that these things are past, and that a failed exam can't make me feel bad anymore. And yes, I am very thankful for that, for the things I went through that made me to who I am now and that made me be aware of what life can be like, what life is like, and what lies in between the gaps you'll encounter in life. It feels a bit weird to look back now and realize that after all, there was something good about the past few months. I still remember all the pain so well, I remember desperate emails to Rebecca and Grace, I remember how badly my arm bleeded, and how deep the cuts were. I remember how insecure I was, how lost and hurt I felt. It was pain, I remember it. How couldn't I, I have scars. They are still pink, and deep. Signs of my past, a past that is part of me and that I don't want to deny, that I can't deny. I'm afraid that I am considered a psycho by people who don't understand, that don't even try to understand. That scares me, it's the only thing that scares me. The only thing.

It was nice to have my mom around again this afternoon. I'd missed her, the way she laughs, smiles, and makes me feel loved. She does it in so many little ways, and I missed everything so much. I realized that just today.

I finally wrote a poem today, I actually think it's one of my best. It was different when I wrote it, I had a picture on my mind that I described. May sound crazy, but it was just like that. It turned out quite nice, and I'm happy that I wrote something again after such a long time.

I will go shopping tomorrow, I need one or two pairs of shorts before I go to the US, and also some books. And all the rest you need to buy three days before vacation - a new tooth brush, new socks, a gift for my hosts, tapes to record your MP's, all these little thing that can make you crazy when you forget them. I will have to wear that stupid blue backpack so that the guy of the exchange program organization recognizes me as one of the exchange students. I'd rather have my Eastpak. It's been with me where ever I've been. Yes I can get sentimental about things like backpacks. I'm also great with that when it comes to old shoes I bought in a special place.

Life is beautiful. It sure is.

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