Friends

I think that even though it might be a good thing to have one person that you can tell everything to, I think it is probably a good idea that some things remain unsaid. Or, if that can't be the case, have several people that you can tell certain things to. I say this because it seems as though I have made the mistake of telling one person nearly every important thing about me, expecting somewhere deep down inside that we would always be friends - and now, I guess we aren't. Maybe you could still call us friends, but friends at least reach out and touch one another, and while I have made the effort to do so, that person has not reciprocated, and it leaves me feeling rather empty. I want to force a confession from this person - why would do you do this to me? are we not friends? is this it?
I won't.
I'm trying to see it for what it is, and realize that maybe this is the best thing to do.
But it's hard.
And I miss her.

what child is this . . .

being a mother is one of the most exhausting things on this planet. it is very rewarding - extremely, but there are days (more often than not) when i wish that i wasn't a parent. i love that little girl to pieces. she constantly surprises me with her level of intelligence and her wit. she's absolutely gorgeous, and i am not looking forward to her older years, because she's only going to get prettier.
but she frustrates the shit out of me. sometimes, when i hear her cry, i just think "shut the hell up! christ!"
and other times, my heart aches. i hate when chris doesn't move fast enough to get to her or treats her in a way that i think is wrong.
is that normal? i feel like i'm more often angry at her than not. i know that part of it is because of j. i feel like she loves j more, and if i were to leave lola there, she'd never notice that i wasn't around. i truly believe that. she doesn't want to come home, whines about being here, calls me grandma for a week or more.
i'm sure that i love her unconditionally, and that i would murder anyone that hurt her, but sometimes i'm afraid it's a case of "i like her, but i don't love her", and i don't want that to be the case. that isn't right. i'm her mother!
i'm also afraid that i'm treating her this way because i'm finally pregnant with christopher's baby, and that i'm going to like that one more than lola. i hope that isn't the case, because that isn't fair to anyone, and i don't want to favor one child over the other.
maybe i just need to learn patience . . .

she and i

i admitted to him that i miss you. that, i thought i would never do. even though our relationship was out in the open - all of it - it was something that i didn't talk about. why make him mad, or upset him when it didn't really benefit me in the end. after all, it was him that i had to share space with.
but we worked together, and that was something as a victory, even though i didn't get you the job there in order to circumvent him. but then you left. you left me, i guess. i've never really admitted that out loud, either, but that's kind of how i saw it. i think that helped me resent you for a little while.
it didn't take me long to get over that, honestly. i put on a face because i didn't want anyone else to know that i really did miss you.
now you've moved and you're engaged and we don't ever talk. i've reached out to you a coupla times, but you haven't gotten back to the email that i was most hoping you'd respond to. and you've resurrected friendships with two people that you swore you wouldn't (and i have to admit that i was happy about that, because that meant that there'd only be me).
so now, what?
we've both moved on and we have our own lives . . .
but i miss you. i miss your sense of humor and how you were always around to go to joe's or just to hang out. we had a fucking gimmick, for Christ's sake.
we shared a lot. i came very close to ruining my marriage for you, and now there's nothing. i could accept that if i knew that you were meant to be my closest friend just to help me heal wounds that were still festering. maybe that's all we were supposed to be to one another, i guess.
honestly, though, i'm still feeling that urge to reach out to her (and again to you) so that we can all hang out. why? because you both were a part of something that i wasn't there for and something that i still regret even happened. i know that i won't say anything to either one of you, but i give it some thought. my fingers dial your phone number every once in a while, but i never hit the talk button. what would i say?

i miss you and i wish i knew you missed me.

the boy

this picture is one of my favorite of him, and i didn't even take it. it was given to me by samantha, long after the fact. but this picture demonstrates what i love about the way he used to dress. i love him in a hat (even if it does say AMXS in big red letters), and i love him in one of those t-shirts and jeans and skate shoes. i miss that. i miss it more than i should admit, honestly.

from my pen-to-paper writings:
i miss you in jeans and white t-shirts. i mis your hats and skate shoes. i know that isn't your style anymore, and i'm ok with that, but you just looked so good . . . so at ease. there was also a certain familiarity in the way you acted and moved. i think that's what i miss the most. why, i couldn't tell you. maybe because of the sheer volume of memories that i made with the boy in the gray cargoes and worn out t-shirts. that isn't to say that i don't thoroughly enjoy the man that i married (as they are one and the same), but he takes some getting used to - still, after so long. he's so much more responsible. i know that he should be - he's an adult, after all, with a wife and a daughter and another on the way. he has bills and all of that stuff, but i miss when he was a little bit more reckless. reckless . . . i don't know if that's the word i'm looking for. maybe 'innocent' would work better.
part of it is probably because i missed out on the transformations of you from high school to airman to adult. i don't feel like i've changed at all, and that it's you who has re-engineered who you are, but i'm sure that's just life relative to me. i know that i have changed, i just don't see it because it's me.
i keep telling myself that this too shall pass and that how you dress now versus how you used to dress won't matter, but that seems like a long time in coming.

these things are transitory

i have a myspace and a livejournal, but i feel stifled in both places. even though those are "my spaces", i feel like i have to write for my audience. there are things that i want to write about but don't, because i know who will be reading. it sucks for me, because in the end, those things never get out. they just sit and stagnate, and i am tired of that.
there is too much history on livejournal. i've been so many different people there (proof, i suppose that i have changed), that it seems . . . useless, maybe, to "start fresh". i changed my username once, but nothing really changed. i don't really even blog there anymore, just keep up with people. as for myspace, it is mostly my audience that troubles me. chris reads, samantha reads. kristine reads, kristina reads. i want to write about things that i have already written about, but feel like going over once more, and i hate the thought that someone is reading that and rolling their eyes, thinking that i should move on, already.
so here i am. i haven't decided if i will keep this totally private, or if there are certain people i'll share the link with. only time will tell.

i have been writing a lot more on paper lately, and i guess that is because of the lack of free space. the good thing about it is that i'm getting out those thoughts exactly as i think them, without embellishment or editing. i like that. i would continue to do that and scorn the internet, but i'm so leery of paper journals and i often get tired of how long it takes to write one thing when i could have written 10 by computer in that same amount of time.

i honestly hope that this will turn out better.