pain has an element of blank
so today was pretty good.
i think somebody's breaking into my house right now.
but today was pretty good.
it didn't feel birthday-ish at all, and for the first time that didn't really bother me.
although the waiter at eggspressions overheard my mother and i talking and wrote "happy birthday" with strawberry syrup around my fruits.
so that was birthday-ish.
and i got a really sweet card from kelly, with 3-d butterflies that she made with bobby pins and paints and all kinds of things.
and david gave me these huge bright pink beautiful roses and a very intriguing card and money for shopping.
and everybody called me. even random people i wouldn't expect, like matt while i was at mec.
and then i had a dairy queen ice cream cake and fajitas and salsa and guacamole although not in that order. and a daquiri.
and tomorrow i work 7.5 hours but that's okay. and david left kind of preemptively but that's okay, too. for a change.
and conan's a repeat which isn't as okay, but it's still okay.
and i'm 21 and that's good and okay too, because it has a nice ring to it, and even though its nine years away from 30 (as my brother kindly pointed out) nine years still seems long, even at this age, which is really comforting.
and even though it means that i'm technically 'robbing the cradle' (as my mother kindly pointed out) david likes saying he's with 'an older woman' and i like to pretend i'm the mature and responsible one.
and i feel better about kelly, and more accepting, and she's so much more open with me too, which i like. and she signed her card 'love kelly' and i know that she's like me and she probably wondered whether or not that was okay for awhile. and it's okay.
and my stomach is bulging but i feel full for the first time since christmas and i like that because it makes me feel wholer. (wholer?)
and i'm scared for my exam, and for not-having a job for the summer, and for other small things. but the weather is too nice for me to not be okay with all of that right now.
so i'm okay.
and now i'm reading over old birthday entries. i write every year on my birthday. it's crazy how much i change. apparent in my expectations/views on the day... for example, last year i wrote: "everything looks fragile today" and 4 years ago i wrote: "and the way he leaves, he still leaves... and although i dont actually feel older now, i do feel something like a shard, twisted, suspended in time, between years a tornado child swept obliquely into the abyss and maybe thats a good thing, or a bad thing or everything but i felt a lot more sane when my feet could still touch the ground." (what was i thinking? abyss??) and 3 years ago (god i wrote so much that year) i wrote something about throwing a tantrum and hating a family member and being an unhappy belated birthday girl, & 2 years ago i wrote: i wanted a part, even if it was just a small fraction, of what he felt for her. i wanted to feel that look of approval. its hard to forget that kind of heartbreak. pumped gas and ended up at his house half an hour later. he came out, shorts, flip flops, drink in hand. sloppy t-shirt and confused-happy-to-see-me smile on his warm face. soft face. familiar face. i felt empty for a second, but then i let him take me. so...i guess im 19. nothing has changed, really. nothing at all. and finally, one year i wrote:
"i think thats whats always really bothered me about my birthday... the fact that im being forced into another age, forced to accept the coming of another year during which im supposed to transform into this older, more intelligent, more mature, more experienced individual and maybe the fear that i just cant. or maybe i just dont want to, even though i can and will and life will continue on and on and on until im 85 and brittle and half deaf and half alive and half loved by people i wont really even know anymore.
but thats not it really, because ive always had this sliver of pure excitement around my birthday. maybe its spring, the month of april, the feeling, the thrill of having the ownership of a day that everyone is a part of... secretly knowing that its mine, even if its in the most minute way possible. when i was younger, everything looked different on april 19. kind of glazed. usually with rainwater. but also crystalized into a sort of magic. the smells were slightly off, slightly sweeter and more substantial. like i could suck more out of that air than on any other day of the year. thats what depresses me as i get older. my birthday starts to fade... like everything, as time passes. but if something fades... does that mean it retains less value? or does it double, triple, quadruple with every passing day. maybe thats it. antiques are worth a lot, after all. i wish i could have thought about this before saturday... i wish i could have thought about a lot of things."
that last one makes me cringe. i'm really okay with the fact that i'm just okay today. and maybe i can stop writing about my birthday. maybe this marks the last year.
i think somebody's breaking into my house right now.
but today was pretty good.
it didn't feel birthday-ish at all, and for the first time that didn't really bother me.
although the waiter at eggspressions overheard my mother and i talking and wrote "happy birthday" with strawberry syrup around my fruits.
so that was birthday-ish.
and i got a really sweet card from kelly, with 3-d butterflies that she made with bobby pins and paints and all kinds of things.
and david gave me these huge bright pink beautiful roses and a very intriguing card and money for shopping.
and everybody called me. even random people i wouldn't expect, like matt while i was at mec.
and then i had a dairy queen ice cream cake and fajitas and salsa and guacamole although not in that order. and a daquiri.
and tomorrow i work 7.5 hours but that's okay. and david left kind of preemptively but that's okay, too. for a change.
and conan's a repeat which isn't as okay, but it's still okay.
and i'm 21 and that's good and okay too, because it has a nice ring to it, and even though its nine years away from 30 (as my brother kindly pointed out) nine years still seems long, even at this age, which is really comforting.
and even though it means that i'm technically 'robbing the cradle' (as my mother kindly pointed out) david likes saying he's with 'an older woman' and i like to pretend i'm the mature and responsible one.
and i feel better about kelly, and more accepting, and she's so much more open with me too, which i like. and she signed her card 'love kelly' and i know that she's like me and she probably wondered whether or not that was okay for awhile. and it's okay.
and my stomach is bulging but i feel full for the first time since christmas and i like that because it makes me feel wholer. (wholer?)
and i'm scared for my exam, and for not-having a job for the summer, and for other small things. but the weather is too nice for me to not be okay with all of that right now.
so i'm okay.
and now i'm reading over old birthday entries. i write every year on my birthday. it's crazy how much i change. apparent in my expectations/views on the day... for example, last year i wrote: "everything looks fragile today" and 4 years ago i wrote: "and the way he leaves, he still leaves... and although i dont actually feel older now, i do feel something like a shard, twisted, suspended in time, between years a tornado child swept obliquely into the abyss and maybe thats a good thing, or a bad thing or everything but i felt a lot more sane when my feet could still touch the ground." (what was i thinking? abyss??) and 3 years ago (god i wrote so much that year) i wrote something about throwing a tantrum and hating a family member and being an unhappy belated birthday girl, & 2 years ago i wrote: i wanted a part, even if it was just a small fraction, of what he felt for her. i wanted to feel that look of approval. its hard to forget that kind of heartbreak. pumped gas and ended up at his house half an hour later. he came out, shorts, flip flops, drink in hand. sloppy t-shirt and confused-happy-to-see-me smile on his warm face. soft face. familiar face. i felt empty for a second, but then i let him take me. so...i guess im 19. nothing has changed, really. nothing at all. and finally, one year i wrote:
"i think thats whats always really bothered me about my birthday... the fact that im being forced into another age, forced to accept the coming of another year during which im supposed to transform into this older, more intelligent, more mature, more experienced individual and maybe the fear that i just cant. or maybe i just dont want to, even though i can and will and life will continue on and on and on until im 85 and brittle and half deaf and half alive and half loved by people i wont really even know anymore.
but thats not it really, because ive always had this sliver of pure excitement around my birthday. maybe its spring, the month of april, the feeling, the thrill of having the ownership of a day that everyone is a part of... secretly knowing that its mine, even if its in the most minute way possible. when i was younger, everything looked different on april 19. kind of glazed. usually with rainwater. but also crystalized into a sort of magic. the smells were slightly off, slightly sweeter and more substantial. like i could suck more out of that air than on any other day of the year. thats what depresses me as i get older. my birthday starts to fade... like everything, as time passes. but if something fades... does that mean it retains less value? or does it double, triple, quadruple with every passing day. maybe thats it. antiques are worth a lot, after all. i wish i could have thought about this before saturday... i wish i could have thought about a lot of things."
that last one makes me cringe. i'm really okay with the fact that i'm just okay today. and maybe i can stop writing about my birthday. maybe this marks the last year.