your greatest fear will be the rescue of me
I secretly pray that no one reads this. It's 2 AM, I'm high, and there's really nothing else to do or no one I especially want to be with right now.
So much has changed, so much is changing, and so much will change.
I know "changes are a part of life" blah blah etc., but I'd have to say the past few months have smacked me upside the head repeated times. My well being has whiplash.
But it's nothing that won't pass too quickly. Bring it, world.
Our house sold on Monday. We have 30 days, and my mom's just started looking.
I've never been very close to that house. I've never really been close to any house, actually. I've had some good memories in it, but just as many bad memories. It wasn't somewhere I often hung out. My stepdad growled at anyone who got close enough, as most of you know. I used my room to sleep, have late night phone conversations with random boys I called, and to get dressed.
Nothing was relaxing about that house. My dad's house, the Pipers, and the Walled Lake Western Choir Room are relaxing. That last one not so much anymore, for obvious reasons.
No big emotional loss there. It was just the whole finality of the situation.
All of my things are in storage and my mom's taking my bed. That alone weirds me out.
My stepdad's a wreck about not seeing Laura or me anymore. I'm sure he is about mom, but he's nothing but hostile to her these days. It hurts, and is not making things any easier. The one and only night I was home over break he was so genuinely happy to see me. I couldn't talk to him without tearing up, so I locked myself in the music room.
And, for the record, Dave and Globerman are amazing friends.
I requested hard wood floors and a fireplace in our new house. And a puppy eventually. This summer will be the only time ever I live in it, so my mom's not taking me too seriously. Honestly, I don't care. I'll sleep on the fucking couch.
I just need to work. A lot. Like, 9 different jobs so I can stay at U of M. Then, the rest of my summer will be spent in the sun. Hopefully out on Wolverine Lake on Dave's boat, picnicking at Kensington with Nate, cruising around with the girls doing nothing, or laying in my backyard with a good book.
I cannot wait for Tiki Night at Alise's and Dave's. Lizzy's coming up, which means that I once again get to spend Fourth of July with her.
My favorite holiday, once again, will be spectacular.
School is amazing. I love it here. The people make me so happy. I try to avoid the fact that we only have 6 more weeks. Going back "home" is going to break my heart.
Karin and I are continuing to work well together. We got so lucky. It could be the fact that we're both ridiculous party animals, but I think it's more than that.
I love looking at our closets. Mine is dark. Hers is light. I also love symbolism, and what that says about me.
C'est la vie.
Break was most excellent. Seeing Lizzy was...too nice almost. We blasted Modest Mouse, drove around St. Louis, got pedicures, talked about economics and politics, partied, shopped for nice tops and big sunglasses, and argued about stupid things.
My last night there neither one of us could really sleep. We lay there in her bed, in the dark, and talked. By far, the best part of my trip.
Most of our conversation was done without words. I can say one short sentence and she'll immediately understand ten that I haven't said. I noticed how we did that across the room at a party. One casual glance would tell me so much.
That's when I really know I need someone in my life, I think. When I can love them solely based on what's not said. It's scary.
I just wish she weren't so far away. But perhaps that's why we're so strong together.
Then I went up north to John's place for the rest of the week. I slept way too much, and ate more junk food than ever should be eaten.
But I was completely at ease with the world. I guess it was John. He makes me feel comfortable in my own skin.
It's funny looking at how my sister and mother are reacting to all of this. Laura has Mike. Mom has Earl. I, of course, would be the last to admit that I am dependent on a man. But John's been there for me through this entire ordeal. I don't know what I would do without him. Nor can I really say why he and I so suddenly became such close friends. I guess I prefer it that way. It's as if he just appeared one day, said 'I'm going to take care of you', and then proceeded to do so.
I really don't think he's going anywhere. I really hope he doesn't. I've got enough to worry about.
I'm still lonely. I'm so lonely it actually physically aches sometimes. I don't think about it a lot, but when I do it twists inside of me. I wish that could make sense.
My dad looks at me and understands, I think. He'll casually ask me if I'm seeing anyone new, and I once again remind him that I enjoy scaring boys away by simply being myself. He really wants to see me happy, because I think he knows how it feels. My mother is the polar opposite of me, however, and could never understand how I operate. She just observes.
He'll look at me sometimes and it's so sad, it's almost pity.
There's nothing I can do, but feel. It's takes me a long time to get to sleep. I think of what it would be like to find someone.
Alright, I must sleep. Tomorrow brings the beginning of the weekend. Friday night brings David, half of Michigan State, and John's best friend. I plan on it being absolute craziness, and John and I have already predicted that I will probably die while playing in traffic.
The partying has gotten a bit out of control, I admit. I find myself longing to get fucked up in any way possible. I downed half a fifth on Sunday night and then fell asleep. Yes, maybe it's a way of avoiding my depression, but I'm not doing anything too crazy.
I'm not hooking up with random guys, puking, passing out, or even forgetting anything. Maybe I should be. Who knows?
I've almost finished Ayn Rand's "The Fountainhead", which is blowing my mind in so many different ways. I'd recommend it to anyone.
Then Kelly can have his book back, and I can go start Atlas Shrugged.
Literature is better for me than Bacardi Razz, me thinks.
Goodnight moon.
Go confidently in the direction of your dreams. Live the life you have imagined.
-Thoreau
So much has changed, so much is changing, and so much will change.
I know "changes are a part of life" blah blah etc., but I'd have to say the past few months have smacked me upside the head repeated times. My well being has whiplash.
But it's nothing that won't pass too quickly. Bring it, world.
Our house sold on Monday. We have 30 days, and my mom's just started looking.
I've never been very close to that house. I've never really been close to any house, actually. I've had some good memories in it, but just as many bad memories. It wasn't somewhere I often hung out. My stepdad growled at anyone who got close enough, as most of you know. I used my room to sleep, have late night phone conversations with random boys I called, and to get dressed.
Nothing was relaxing about that house. My dad's house, the Pipers, and the Walled Lake Western Choir Room are relaxing. That last one not so much anymore, for obvious reasons.
No big emotional loss there. It was just the whole finality of the situation.
All of my things are in storage and my mom's taking my bed. That alone weirds me out.
My stepdad's a wreck about not seeing Laura or me anymore. I'm sure he is about mom, but he's nothing but hostile to her these days. It hurts, and is not making things any easier. The one and only night I was home over break he was so genuinely happy to see me. I couldn't talk to him without tearing up, so I locked myself in the music room.
And, for the record, Dave and Globerman are amazing friends.
I requested hard wood floors and a fireplace in our new house. And a puppy eventually. This summer will be the only time ever I live in it, so my mom's not taking me too seriously. Honestly, I don't care. I'll sleep on the fucking couch.
I just need to work. A lot. Like, 9 different jobs so I can stay at U of M. Then, the rest of my summer will be spent in the sun. Hopefully out on Wolverine Lake on Dave's boat, picnicking at Kensington with Nate, cruising around with the girls doing nothing, or laying in my backyard with a good book.
I cannot wait for Tiki Night at Alise's and Dave's. Lizzy's coming up, which means that I once again get to spend Fourth of July with her.
My favorite holiday, once again, will be spectacular.
School is amazing. I love it here. The people make me so happy. I try to avoid the fact that we only have 6 more weeks. Going back "home" is going to break my heart.
Karin and I are continuing to work well together. We got so lucky. It could be the fact that we're both ridiculous party animals, but I think it's more than that.
I love looking at our closets. Mine is dark. Hers is light. I also love symbolism, and what that says about me.
C'est la vie.
Break was most excellent. Seeing Lizzy was...too nice almost. We blasted Modest Mouse, drove around St. Louis, got pedicures, talked about economics and politics, partied, shopped for nice tops and big sunglasses, and argued about stupid things.
My last night there neither one of us could really sleep. We lay there in her bed, in the dark, and talked. By far, the best part of my trip.
Most of our conversation was done without words. I can say one short sentence and she'll immediately understand ten that I haven't said. I noticed how we did that across the room at a party. One casual glance would tell me so much.
That's when I really know I need someone in my life, I think. When I can love them solely based on what's not said. It's scary.
I just wish she weren't so far away. But perhaps that's why we're so strong together.
Then I went up north to John's place for the rest of the week. I slept way too much, and ate more junk food than ever should be eaten.
But I was completely at ease with the world. I guess it was John. He makes me feel comfortable in my own skin.
It's funny looking at how my sister and mother are reacting to all of this. Laura has Mike. Mom has Earl. I, of course, would be the last to admit that I am dependent on a man. But John's been there for me through this entire ordeal. I don't know what I would do without him. Nor can I really say why he and I so suddenly became such close friends. I guess I prefer it that way. It's as if he just appeared one day, said 'I'm going to take care of you', and then proceeded to do so.
I really don't think he's going anywhere. I really hope he doesn't. I've got enough to worry about.
I'm still lonely. I'm so lonely it actually physically aches sometimes. I don't think about it a lot, but when I do it twists inside of me. I wish that could make sense.
My dad looks at me and understands, I think. He'll casually ask me if I'm seeing anyone new, and I once again remind him that I enjoy scaring boys away by simply being myself. He really wants to see me happy, because I think he knows how it feels. My mother is the polar opposite of me, however, and could never understand how I operate. She just observes.
He'll look at me sometimes and it's so sad, it's almost pity.
There's nothing I can do, but feel. It's takes me a long time to get to sleep. I think of what it would be like to find someone.
Alright, I must sleep. Tomorrow brings the beginning of the weekend. Friday night brings David, half of Michigan State, and John's best friend. I plan on it being absolute craziness, and John and I have already predicted that I will probably die while playing in traffic.
The partying has gotten a bit out of control, I admit. I find myself longing to get fucked up in any way possible. I downed half a fifth on Sunday night and then fell asleep. Yes, maybe it's a way of avoiding my depression, but I'm not doing anything too crazy.
I'm not hooking up with random guys, puking, passing out, or even forgetting anything. Maybe I should be. Who knows?
I've almost finished Ayn Rand's "The Fountainhead", which is blowing my mind in so many different ways. I'd recommend it to anyone.
Then Kelly can have his book back, and I can go start Atlas Shrugged.
Literature is better for me than Bacardi Razz, me thinks.
Goodnight moon.
Go confidently in the direction of your dreams. Live the life you have imagined.
-Thoreau