| MAY 2002 |
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MAY 2nd, 2002
I bought an ice-cream maker and the UPS man delivered it today - forgive me for being lazy and not wanting to haul my fat 6-month pregnant body all around buying stuff. I went to the grocery store and spent $240 on groceries, yet failed to return home with any of the necessary components to make ice-cream. I also called the apartment complex office and had someone come over and replace the light bulbs in the kitchen. We've been living in this bizarre rave-like atmosphere every time we turned the light on. It just flickered, and was very annoying. But good for a few moments of impromptu rave dancing every now and then ... I said "Let there be light." ... and there was. I am god. Why am I missing something I've never had? I can't say that I believe in the concept of making love. Or rather, I'd like to ... maybe it's something real ... but sex has just always been sex. The bitter after-taste of sexual abuse I would imagine. But I just don't really see how that one specific action can be the way people who believe in the concept of making love describe it. I mean ... what is it, this making love? How is it different from sex? I just don't get it. Don't get me wrong - I would love for a man (or woman) to touch me and make me feel the way they describe it. I would love to feel the way I imagine those people do on TV shows when they are shown in a making-love embrace. I would love to feel the passion, the tenderness, the oneness, completeness, engulfment, tingling that I imagine making love is. Maybe I do know what it is ... is it real?? Or is it some illusion society has painted so that we may always feel our lives are incomplete. Or am I the only one feeling that way?? I want someone to reach me. I want to be touched - physically, mentally, emotionally ... I want to be wrapped in another's joy and bliss and to share something unique and exciting. God damn it ... what the hell am I even talking about. Why do I hate myself for wanting closeness? Why do I disallow myself the pleasure of finding it? ~~~~~ 10:40a Earlier I said : "I want to be touched - physically, mentally, emotionally ... I want to be wrapped in another's joy and bliss and to share something unique and exciting. " To clarify this, I have had different people touch me in different ways. I want to find all of that in one person I guess. I want there to be one person who can make me feel all of those ways, who can touch me in all of those ways. -------------------- 4:21p Writing simply for the sake of wasting time I think. Much to be done around here, but cleaning and crap like that are really not much fun (or even moderately tolerable) when I have this fucking basketball sized and shaped object constantly smack-bam in the center of me. I pretty much hate being pregnant. Love the end result, hate the crap I have to go through to get there. Just deleted 2 paragraphs of crap that I wrote ... What is it that I actually want to say? ... my chest hurts. I want to cry. I want to be held. I want to be touched. Dammit ... back to the being touched thing. For god sake, I just want to spend more than an hour today without thinking and wondering about what-ifs or contemplating the present and future. I am so fucked up right now, and I don't even know how he did this ........ -------------------- 2:19a FUCK YOU DAD ! I fucking hate my dad. I haven't talked to my dad in months ... just the way I like it. I told him the last time we talked that I didn't want to have anything to do with him. And he seemed fine with that since he hadn't contacted me. But then tonight the phone rings and I answer it, and who the fuck do I hear on the other end ... He makes me crazy. His voice makes me feel sick. He always sounds drunk, different levels of, and I just can't stand it. He was asking how everything was ... me, Brandon, Cayden ... etc ... and the one word responses were all I could force myself to do. I just wanted to hang up on him, and even though he's 4000 miles away, I am still terrified of defying him in any way. I guess it didn't take him long to realize I didn't want to talk to him, and he tells me I don't need to stay so disconnected, that I can call or write anytime ... and I remind him that I don't want anything to do with him. And he um's and ah's like he had expected me to change my mind. He said the main reason he was calling was to tell me that he's going to be marrying Ros in a few months and he thought it was the right thing to do to tell me himself. I remind him that I knew that - he was drunk the last time I talked to him and we discussed it then. Discussed = me telling him I thought he was an asshole for marrying the woman he had an affair with 17 years ago. It's been 4 years since my mom died ... it doesn't feel like it's been that long. I said goodbye and hung up. I can't stand him. I want him to stay the hell out of my life and leave me alone. I want him to die a slow and painful death and get what he deserves. I've gotten grief from people in the past for my obvious hatred towards my father, and people tell me I should appreciate my parent(s) and accept that there will come a time in the future when I will want to have some sort of loving relationship with him even though now I *think* I hate him. Unless you watched your alcoholic father drunkenly beat your mom practically every night of your childhood, unless you heard the screams and the punches being thrown, unless you were sexually abused by your father from the time you were three years old, unless you feared for your own safety every single fucking day of your life ... do not judge me. Because you have no fucking idea what it's like. And if you can fathom for one second how a person could forgive a person like that, then there's something wrong with you. I just want to keep my sanity. I just want a calm peaceful life. And I can only have that if I keep the person who stole so much from me out of my life. Regardless of who he is, he is nothing to me, and I can't deal with the pain and memories he brings. After I hung up the phone I cried ... and I stopped shaking eventually. -------------------- 12:01a I am craving ice-cream. I want ice-cream. I want ice-cream BADLY. Unfortunately the grocery shopping that I did last week filled our freezer, so we have no room for me to buy ice-cream. :( I did manage to squeeze the bowl for the ice-cream maker in today, so hopefully tomorrow I should be able to make up a batch of Ben & Jerry's Chocolate Fudge Brownie ice-cream. But I want ice-cream now ... grrrrrr. I've been eating ice-cubes all day. Not exactly a good substitute for ice-cream, but along with ice-cream, I've been craving ice-cubes. Bizarre. Oh well. Lucky for me ice-cubes are easy to come by. But I still want ice-cream ............ -------------------- 12:58p
Today I'll worship
Today I'll heal
.... blah blah blah -------------------- 10:31p If the word FUCK offends you, don't read .... What a bunch of fucking crap day. I am SO fucking irritated and pissed off by the world and every fucking thing in it. I feel like I either have to fucking do or initiate every fucking thing that gets done in this house, and if I don't either do it or initiate it, it never fucking gets done, and Brandon just gets on my back about it or gets pissed off 'cause it isn't done. I want this fucking baby out of me. I am SO fucking sick of being kicked all the time and having a fucking head or knee constantly fucking wedged in my ribs. My back is SO fucking painful. It feels like someone is pulling my spine in half, and the pain is so bad it causes my chest to feel like it's being ripped in half too and it makes it impossible to breath without having to painfully catch my breath every minute or so. ~~~~~ 10:53p I feel like I could be so much happier ............. -------------------- 12:20a * I got new very-cool jewellery for my piercings. A real cute straight barbell with tiny little blue gems on each end for my bridge piercing. And I also got two curved barbells with tiny blue balls for my eyebrow piercings, but I'm gonna have to get the piercings redone 'cause they're both too-far forward. I need to get them done a little further back. So I'm gonna wait until then to put the new jewelry in them. * I started my fourth correspondence course - the other three are completed - this time I'm going all out and am attempting to get my Associate in Specialized Business Degree in Finance. I completed my first study unit today and took the first exam tonight - 100% - off to a good start, and hopefully a sign of things to come. I love learning new things! * Dr appointment tomorrow to check-up on The Unborn One ... am sure everything will be just fine and dandy as it always is. Gotta have a glucose test though to check for gestational diabetes, so wish me luck - having blood taken ... ick. * Grrrrrr ..... so tired. Must sleep .... kill ... me .............. -------------------- 11:14a I just took my second exam and got 100% again. Yay for me. Perfection makes me happy! :) I'm excited, but also daunted, by the amount of information I have at my fingertips ... information that I need to study and learn. Since I never went to college I had no idea that degrees involved so much. I have a 700-page textbook to study, and that only covers my next 6 exams ... after that I still have four textbooks which cover a total of 20 more exams. And that's only the first semester of this course, there are three more after this one. Phew .... I'm glad to be learning, but feeling a little overwhelmed. I am excited about the fact that even though this is a correspondence course, as in real-life college, I get to choose 3 electives over the whole course. I'm not sure which ones I want to do yet .... maybe Music (choice of that or Art Appreciation), and I get to pick 2 more out of 6 options - I think I'll go for Essentials of Psychology and Introduction to Literature. They sound interesting to me ... the rest, things like World Civilization and Political Science just really aren't all that appealing to me. Overall, I'm thrilled that I'll be learning so much, but a little frightened that I just *can't* learn this much. Guess all I can do is give it my best and hope it's good enough. Not good at living in that mind-set ... but it's either that, or spend all my time worrying that I'll screw this up. Things like this remind me of how easy it is for me to feel like a total failure, like I can't do anything, and that I'm stupid. Brandon tells me that I'm more intelligent than most people he went to college with ... such a shame I wasted that intelligence in high school ... and I have the grades to prove that I was totally screwed up back then ... that I was spending all my time drunk and on drugs. Oh well ... nothing I can do about that now, I guess, except make up for it by getting myself well-educated now. Hopefully I am as intelligent as Brandon seems to think I am. -------------------- 8:10a I was just wondering if I will gain all of my Australian accent back after we move to Aus. My friends in Aus who I've talked with on the phone tell me I sound SO American now ... I don't hear it, but am a little saddened that I've lost some of my accent. Brandon also says that he doesn't hear my accent anymore, but I think that's just familiarity, 'cause I don't hear his "american accent" anymore either - but I still hear most other American's accents. I guess I must still sound somewhat Australian, since people still ask me where I'm from every now and then. I just sound like me to me ... no change at all. I'm a little sad that something I had for 22 years disappeared without me even noticing. I guess sometimes we really do leave everything behind ... -------------------- 5:45p I hate feeling jealous, but alas, I am. The real depressive-jealous too, where you just feel like you completely suck and everyone is better than you. Ick ... -------------------- 12:52p People can change so much over time it seems ... or perhaps they are just a different person when they are with *you*. After you've been apart for a while you start to see the person differently - they make different choices, have different standards ... basically just act in a way that they never acted when it was *the two of you*. Paul and I started dating when I was 18 and he was 20. We had our ups and downs, as all relationships seem to have, we broke up and got back together twice, but overall were officially *together* for just over a year. At that time, it was my longest relationship. I was his first girlfriend, his first kiss, the girl he lost his virginity to (I'd already lost mine by that point ...). So we were together for a year. And during that whole time, he never once said those three words we all long to hear in a relationship - "I love you". To be fair, I remember once he said it to, and because it was so odd (because he'd never said it before) I asked him the next day if he meant it. He said no, he said he only said it 'cause he knew it was what I wanted to hear. He gave me roses from his parents' garden many times. We had lots of fun on the beach. He had great taste in music and opened my eyes to a lot of bands that I'd never heard of before. I loved the smell of his deodorant. He has dimples. I thought he was the guy I was going to marry. But we fought a lot. At the time we were dating I was also in the throes of my undiagnosed (and therefore untreated) mental illnesses. He had me committed to a mental hospital. I'm glad he did. Those last two sentences alone make me sound like a nut-case, but I'm not. I'm just a troubled little girl. We broke up. We still hung out all the time (we had the same group of friends, so we were still seeing each other every day) and we continued sleeping together for the next 3 years. It was obvious to our friends that we were still sleeping together, but Paul would have denied it to his dying breath. He never once admitted to anyone that we were still seeing each other. We didn't really date other people initially. I think we both just felt content in our bizarre twisted relationship of comfort and hostility, but without the constraints of a committed relationship. We both admitted to each other that we both just felt so comfortable with the other that we found it difficult to seek out other people. But in the end, we did. He had girlfriends, I had girlfriends and boyfriends, but we were still sneaking around, calling each other in the night to sneak off and have sex. I was almost always the initiator. I always wanted more than he was willing to give me in regards to the relationship, and I made this well known to him. In exchange, he made it well known to me that we were not going to get back together. According to Paul it took him a very long time (I think 2 years) after we broke up for him to feel comfortable enough to have sex with someone else. Paul and I actually lived together (as house-mates, not a committed relationship type thing) for 6 months before I moved to the US. That was rough. He had a girlfriend. She would sleep in his bed, and I would lie in bed in the room next to his and stare at the ceiling for hours, wondering what the hell I was doing and why I was bothering. I couldn't let go. And neither could he, because we were still sleeping together. She spent a lot of time at the apartment. I was very jealous. I would have taken Paul back in a heartbeat if he had have asked me. But I dealt with it all by getting drunk, using drugs, sleeping with complete strangers ... my usual coping strategies for shit like that. I hadn't seen him for a few months and we hadn't slept together for a little while when I left Australia and moved to the US without telling him.I wrote to him about 6 months after I had been here, basically to apologize for leaving the way I did (I essentially broke the lease on his apartment by leaving), and for the horrible way our relationship ended up. I didn't know if he would respond. He did. We started talking after that, and pretty quickly we bought our relationship back up to the point of us being very good friends. We've talked a lot about our relationship and I think dealt with most all of the issues we both had. We talk often now. Friends. Odd .... He had a girlfriend who lived with him, and they broke up. He found out she had cheated on him, apparently she left some link up or something to an online journal and she was apparently talking about her relationship with Paul and how she had kissed some other guy. He read it. He literally threw her out. So she moved away and lived with another guy, and started her teaching career in another city. We talked a lot about how he missed her and the usual things that come with a break-up. And then he contacted her, and after numerous emails in which he proclaimed love for her and the desire to have her back, she eventually decided that she wanted him back too. So they've started seeing each other again. And I can't believe he's taking her back. I can't believe that he can trust her. It's like watching our own relationship in reverse, with him being the one desperately chasing the other. And I'm not used to seeing him in that role. And for some reason it makes me think less of him ... because I just don't understand how he can take her back, how he can still want her after the things she did. He deserves better, and I wish I could make him understand that. Then again, none of my friends could make me understand that when I was the one chasing Paul and our relationship. I guess we all need to learn. I just hope that they don't end up "together forever" because I think that he could be so much happier with someone else. Perhaps I'm jealous. Perhaps I'm lonely. Perhaps I'm just so screwed up that relationships make no sense to me. I don't know why I wrote all this. He's an important person in my life, and he's had a profound impact on me. He is one of my best friends in the world, and I miss him so much. I look forward to seeing him in person and being able to touch him when we go back to Australia. He says he misses me too all the time. We both just want a hug. A comfortable, familiar, heartfelt hug. Our lives are so intertwined, at least in the past, that I don't know if I will ever be able to let him go. I'm crying ... |
| APRIL 2002 <- | -> JUNE 2002 |
