22 November 2004
Sleepless in Seattle
Dreamt last night about watching my brother use a sniper rifle on someone at a crafts fair. He was very nonchalant, joking about missing the first time while he lined up his shot. I tried to grab my sister and run away, but I couldn't run fast enough over my front yard, and I tried to hide in the bushes, but he kept threatening me if I told anyone. Then it was my dad, and I was trying to tell him that D**** had killed someone, but he didn't believe me.
So, all in all, a pretty normal family interaction.
Everybody is different, right, and most of us fall within normal operational bounds. I do, too. But sometimes I think I'm at the edge of functional, and that maybe that hurts more than knowing you're just totally befukt. I think about growing up, and I don't think I ever learned anything about love, other than the fact that it leads to fighting, mistrust, fear, betrayal, and loneliness. I don't know what it feels like to accept love, because I'm scared that it's a ruse, or temporary, or so tenuous that it will shatter as soon as I do something wrong.
On the night I got engaged, I felt what it must feel like to be loved without being afraid. It felt so relaxing, so comfortable, so good. And it didn't last, and I can't get it back. I wish I could fix myself. I feel like I've tried everything, attacked the problem from every angle, thought about every possible cause, examined every detail that might hold a meaningful clue. And it's nothing. It's just a hole in a heart that grew the wrong way.
E***'s mad at me, my toe still hurts, my throat is sore, and it's overcast. Yeah, today is going to be great.
Can I -move- yet? I mean, because if you can't cope, you can always escape, right?
—
No matter what else is pulling me down, it is very hard to stay unhappy at work. I can be tired, I can be annoyed, and I can be frustrated, but I can't be unhappy.
I care about all of the kids I work with, but there are certain children that really remind me what love is. They hug me for no reason. They tell me they love me for no reason. They smile when they see me and wave hello. They want to come to my class, they want to hold my hand, and they want my help. They say goodbye at the end of the day, not just once, but like echoes every time I say goodbye back to them.
I like my job. I like my friends. I like my boy.
(...I'd still like to move back to da East Coast.)