|
|
Monday, January 31st, 2005
|
2:12p
I don't think I'd feel so confused if she were here.
I made her lay on top of me when I visited her. The weight reminded me I was unquestionably real. My legs fit well around her waist and I could hook my feet innocently together behind her back. Just to keep them that way. She smiled at me a lot. Her smile is my favorite thing in the entire universe. Her chest is my second favorite, but there is no contest that her smile comes first.
I really hate what this drug is doing to me and I really hate that my mom says I am so much better while I'm on it.
My parents came home last night and they saw everything I'd done for them.
They immediately informed me of how many rules I was breaking by being on the computer at that moment.
I went up in my room and cried. Fucking hormones. Fucking parents. My mom came in my room a few times and talked to me about why I was upset. One of the times that she came back, she established the obvious and said I was crying again. I told her I wasn't, she was seeing things, and doesn't she take pills for that?
Speaking of pills. The Lexapro made me feel weird when I didn't take it two days ago, so I made sure to take it yesterday. Now I feel even weirder. My head is very fuzzy and sore.
I had more dreams.
My father and I were in a bed together. I reached down after he left and my hand touched something wet and sticky. I felt disgusting.
I lived in an apartment with a boy and a girl I kept referring to as Ginny. It confused her. She had another name. In my head, it was always Ginny. Correction- it was always my Ginny. That's how I thought of her. The name slipped a few times. My face would flush and I would cover excuses.
She kissed me once. We were laying on a bed which was near a window. The sunlight was blinding and warm. The whiteness and purity of the sun made me feel clean. Clean clean clean. She was on her back and I was on my stomach. Our heads were part of the same joint and I leaned forward and down to press my lips against hers. My body felt redeemed for what I had done with my father.
But then when I leaned away from her, the boy leaned in and kissed her also. But where I had only kissed her once or twice and only softly before pulling away, he plundered her. My heart broke, watching. Again I felt disgusting. I felt love where love was unwanted. I was disgusting.
I left the room.
I turned on the television in the other room. It reminded me of the way I'd focused on The L Word when I wanted to cry at Hannah's house in December. My Ginny and the boy followed me. I was laying sideways on the bed. They stretched across the floor, entangled, caring about me and unaware of my hurt. I felt more disgusting then.
I hate my dreams which are so clear and make so much sense. I hate that I know why I dream of these things and ugh. I had a crush on the student teacher in third grade. Her name was Miss Lane. She knew sign language. She taught us how to perform Silver Bells for the holiday assembly. I had a dream once that she kissed me on the cheek and I could never look at her the same way again. It made me shudder when she put her hand on my shoulder in class.
Samantha means Listener of God. I have this fantasy in which I am a prophet and I stand in the center of my people, reading to them. They love me and they love each other. We are equally wise and they speak in urgent choruses. I am in the center, with my eyes closed and wide-open. My head is tilted upward.
My grand ambitions. At the moment, I want to double-major in Religious Studies and Political Science- then I want to use those degrees to work toward a doctorate in Psychology.
I'm still working on the love poem.
Finally typed up my cover letter for my college applications. I showed it to Hannah and she said -
Hannah: you are amazing
Me: what do you mean?
Hannah: that was a very good cover letter
Hannah: you can go to Hannah College
Hannah: you have been accepted
Me: I love you Hannah
Me: *messes up Hannah's hair*
Hannah: love you too
Me: and how should I address/sign the letter, do you know?
Hannah: sincerely?
Hannah: best regards?
Hannah: XOXO Sammi
current mood: frustrated
current music: The Struggle -- Mirah (comment on this)
|
3:02p
I love -
keeping up with all of JoAnna's journals, slash stories that manage to make me happy even without the presence of girls, when Hannah turns on her webcam, small anniversaries, the way my body sections itself, 'Studying Stones' by Ani Difranco, Kristin's breasts, discovering new books, titling icons with song lyrics.
P.S.
I am such an ass girl, why do I love Kristin's breasts so much?
current mood: pleased
current music: One More Night -- Nina Gordon (6 comments |comment on this)
|
|
|
|