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Tuesday, January 18th, 2005
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10:13p
I have this suspicion that some of my friends are unhappy with me, but I don't know and I'm not sure. Everything that causes me to wonder is vague and inspecific. It's something about the voices- the tones people have started using with me. Or not using with me.
I've been on antidepressants for two weeks as of today. I think that might be why I haven't written any long entries. I think about what to write, but then I don't write it. Spending as much time as I normally spend on my journal seems a little ridiculous. I miss my long entries though. Not writing them is disappointing.
Also disappointing is how much I've been sleeping. I fall asleep before midnight almost every night. Kristin thinks she puts me to sleep. But I think it's the medicine. I sleep for seven-eight hours every night and then I still come home and fall asleep for hours after school. I had more energy when I wasn't sleeping at all.
I think my mom is disappointed with me. I guess she's dissatisfied with everything lately. Maybe I'm too sensitive. She isn't able to do anything. She went grocery shopping last week and it completely wore her out for the rest of the day. She didn't go to work with me on Saturday. Tonight she was dry heaving a lot and throwing up a little. She and John went to bed a while ago. I can hear her sniffing. Every so often I hear a sob.
I wonder sometimes if most of my tendencies toward introspection come from living with someone who is so frequently sad. I don't mean sad trivially. My mother is a sad person. She lives with deep sadness. I called her on Saturday when I was on my way home from work, to ask how she was doing. She sounded hoarse and she said she hates how her depression dominates the house, covers everything. I didn't know what to say.
Girls are beautiful. All of them. But some are more beautiful than others. I'm attracted to some more than others. I like hips, soft and rounded stomachs. I like breasts, arms which easily encircle.
Kristin unnerves me. I told her that and she asked why. I answered, Because I know how to deal with people who aren't good enough for me. I don't know how to deal with you. She catches me off-guard all of the time. I'm always catching my breath, reminding myself to breathe. I went to see her this weekend. I slept around her. Her bed is thin. One of us would lay on our back and the other would snuggle into her side. I had nightmares and she was already awake.
In the morning, when I was awake and she was still tired, I studied her face. Her eyelashes are dark and numerous, but not as long as mine. Her nose has a bump, which she calls the Mason bump. I don't think she likes it much. I wish I'd had my camera with me. I love her upper arms. Soft and warm, look better than mine. She has nearly invisible scars on her arms. I wanted to kiss them all.
She took a shower Sunday night. I was falling asleep in the bed. She came back in her robe. She was toweling her hair. She asked if I wanted her undressed or dressed for bed. I told her I didn't have any preference, which was a lie. She said if I had no preference, she was going to put clothes on. I don't think I responded to her. She walked to the end of the bed and crawled up to the pillow naked. Her hair was wet. Her skin was cool.
In the morning, when I realized I was never going to get my fill of studying her, I rolled out of bed to take my shower. She turned her body in to the spot I had vacated. Her hair was loose and wavy from sleeping on it all night. Her eyes were blue-gray moons and she was looking at me, slightly pushed onto her elbows. I feel like I'm still in that moment. Everything in me fluttered and stopped. I shook my head at her and left the room. Outside the door, I leaned against the wall and shut my eyes. I had to bring myself back to the ground. How can one person have so much light and so much grace and still have no idea?
I climbed back into bed with her when I returned from the shower. I kissed her right away. My hair was wet then. She touched it often. I have Harry Potter hair sometimes, usually right after a bath. Unruly and shocking. I love my hair. Unfortunately, it's always going flat before too long.
We cuddled a lot and didn't really move from bed until two, at least. We went to lunch before I left. Arby's. She made me pick where we went. We laughed ridiculously. Our relationship is strange and wonderful. I don't have many secrets in my life, but she knows what they are. She likes when I'm serious and when I'm silly. She likes when I'm impatient and when I'm sentimental. There is something in the beautiful in that we are even together at all. I find myself thinking about the future.
I thought Amanda was mad at me last week. I talked to another friend, who told me Amanda had been cranky lately. Then I thought maybe it wasn't that she was mad at me. Now I'm not sure. She doesn't really talk to me anymore. It's not like the time she gave me the silent treatment because I'd been sick for a week, she just doesn't seem to have anything to say. I don't know if it's my fault or not, but I feel like I'm failing.
I think I'm letting David down too, but I'm not sure how. I wonder if I let him down when I told him I didn't want to answer his questions about sex anymore. I should be a better friend. I'm going over to his house after the French final tomorrow. We're going to watch Mean Girls.
current mood: affectionate
current music: Gone Sugaring -- Mirah (6 comments |comment on this)
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