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Monday, February 14th, 2005
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12:33a - Kristin.
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1:06a
On Friday, the school psychologist called my mother. I guess one of my friends printed this out and brought it to the psychologist because I mentioned suicide. He/she told my mother that she should have me assessed to see what kind of risk I am to myself.
(When the psychologist first called, my mother couldn't find the phone in time to answer. For some reason, John #1 is still on the emergency call list - that's smart, I haven't been near him for more than two years - and when my mother didn't answer, the psychologist tried calling John. Later, John called my mom and wanted to know what's wrong with me. She told him it was none of his business.)
My guidance counselor also called. My mom and I have a nine o'clock appointment with her tomorrow morning. On Friday, when I first took the call, I was thinking about school and going back felt right. Even early on Saturday, when Kim wanted to sneak me into the dance, I wasn't afraid to see anyone. But Saturday evening, I was thinking about the appointment with Mrs. Brookman and I just felt sick to my stomach.
This morning I had a nightmare.
It shouldn't even qualify as a nightmare. I dreamed that it was Monday morning and I was waking up. My mother was out of sight, but she was talking to me. Why aren't you going to school? she asked. Go to school.
And even in the dream, I could feel the dread. I couldn't breathe. My chest hurt and my eyes stung. I curled into a ball.
When I really woke up, my girlfriend was in bed next to me and I felt mostly better. But I still couldn't shake the feeling of the dream. It's gotten worse throughout the day. My lip is bleeding from biting it. I don't want to go tomorrow. I don't even want to go to the meeting. I just want to cry. Everything in my life is good right now. My friendships, my love life, my familial relationships - except school. I don't get it.
(My mom came in my bedroom after the psychologist talked to her and asked me if I was a threat to myself, asked why I had mentioned suicide. Everything I loved about school is different, I said. That's a devastating thought.)
It's true. I used to love school so much. I loved the way no one knew how much attention I paid. It would look like I was doing something completely unrelated to class, but I was listening. I would take in so much information. That's how I learn, I listen. Sometimes I would watch my teachers' lips while they talked and I would think - How beautiful, this gift, what they've giving me. I didn't usually do my homework because I didn't need to. Homework is to aid in learning and I didn't need that aid. I listened.
I loved the way my teachers understood me. Mrs. Dawson told me once that I could never be a teacher because no one could follow the path my mind wound around - but that I came to the right answers. I was right and she had no idea how, but I was. Freshman year in Algebra II, I would always correct Mr. Ruhl when he was at the board teaching us. On one of the last days, the students had to fill in self-evaluations. There was a blank near the bottom intended for any questions we had for the teacher.
I wrote, Does it bother you when students correct you? Mr. Ruhl was sitting at the long table in the back of the room, grading a stack of tests. He read our evaluations as we finished them. I was sitting at my desk when I heard him begin to laugh. Loudly, genuinely. He had the voice of an ogre. He boomed, No, I don't mind - not when the students are right and he looked at me and laughed some more.
Mme. Castenson called me on Friday, too. Thinking of her makes me want to try. She's so generous to her students. I know I've benefitted from knowing her and having her as a teacher. She's just about the only teacher I love this year, though.
( An e-mail to a friend about my teachers. )
Kristin was here this weekend. My sister launched herself at Kristin within fifteen seconds of meeting her. Within a few minutes, the three of us were sitting in a circle, holding hands and singing kumbyyah. Kristin told me she was trying desperately to make sure my sister liked her. Ali told me she was worried that Kristin was annoyed by her.
My two girls. Trying to please each other to please me. I couldn't have been happier. On Saturday morning, I climbed into my bed with Kristin to cuddle her after sleeping on the couch. Ali came in a few hours later and laid between us. She looked at Kristin and said, If you break my sister's heart, I will kill you. Then she looked at me. And if you break Kristin's heart, I'll kill you too.
Ali wasn't the only one who liked Kristin. My mom told me unprompted that she likes her. Then she repeated what a nice girl she is and that she has to come visit again next month and how much she likes her. David was thrilled. He said I'm more fun with Kristin around and he told me I can never, ever break up with her.
Smart boy. I wasn't planning on it.
She made me cry this weekend. On Friday, when she first arrived, we exchanged presents. I gave her a stuffed kitty that looks just like my cat and Blood and Chocolate by Annette Curtis Klause. She gave me two books - Wasteland by Francesca Lia Block and Lost Souls by Poppy Z. Brite. She also gave me a Reeses and a story she'd written for me.
The story is called you [me] being in love and it's about her feelings for me. I don't want to share the whole thing because it's the best present anyone's ever given to me and it's mine, mine, mine - but I do want to share part of it, just to say, Look at how well she loves me.
"She has Harry Potter hair that fits perfectly between your fingers and a voice that follows you devotedly like a kitten. She has eyes, dark and sometimes pupil-less, that remind you of all the childhood joys you'd thought were gone. Her body makes you forget to breathe. Her lips always remind you."
I realized something tonight that was both disconcerting and the most perfect thought I've ever had in my life. I asked Kristin to tell me a fantasy that doesn't involve me and she told me to try thinking of a fantasy that didn't involve her - because she couldn't think of anything. I couldn't think of anything earlier. As she put it, I could think of things I used to want, but I couldn't think of anything that really sounded good without her.
I want to share my life with her. I don't want to say that, I don't want to think I might want things that aren't possible - but I feel more safe and more loved with her than I've ever felt with anyone. I look at her, I look at every part of her and I think she's the most beautiful girl, the most beautiful person I've ever seen. When she was in my bathroom, when she was taking a bath in my bathtub and the door was shut, I laid in my bed, listening for the sound of shifting water. I could be that quiet and I could feel that calm, just to listen to matter moving around her.
We didn't have sex this weekend. It was unnecessary. I kissed her mouth every chance I got and I stroked her hand and leaned into her body. I picked out lingerie for her at the Gap and looked at her in the dressing room. I helped her change, I touched her skin. I looked at her. In line at the cafe in Borders, I stood behind her, my fingers stroking her sides and my nose pressed into her hair. I adore her. My body knows how to find her. If I closed my eyes and the room were full, I could still see her, find my way to her.
She calls me her kitty because I am devoted to her. I curl into her embraces and am solaced by the verbal purr of her voice. My cat loved her. Bebe climbed onto our bodies every time we cuddled and slept with Kristin while I was on the couch. At one point, the cat was on her lap and I was snuggled into her side and she stroked my hair, saying, My two kitties. I liked that she called the cat hers.
We watched movies all the way through and I read cummings to her at four in the morning, laying on my stomach while she was on her back, stroking the cat who was laying across her. I slept on the couch, but I came upstairs as soon as I woke up both mornings and climbed into bed with Kristin. She told me tonight that during one of the mornings, she shifted into a new postition and I made a sound in the back of my throat and curled myself around her.
Her eyes watered when it was time for her to leave. It made my heart beat like wild, but I looked calm, I think. I touched the side of her face and said it was okay. I meant it was okay to cry, not okay for her to leave - because I didn't want her to leave. I want my Kristin. My symbiotic, canonical love. My brilliant girlfriend who listens to some music I like and some music my mother likes, who rolls her eyes at my romance, who writes that it hurts to breathe when she disappoints me, who imagines that we'll be together for years and makes wishes when I tell her to. I've never felt love pure like this. I've never been so calm and so happy. I've never dated anyone who my mother has warned me to treat well.
I knew this before, but after this weekend I know it better - when I look at my life and I am older, I am going to think, Kristin is the one who loved me. The girl you miss in your bones, the one who probably shares threads of your DNA, the one who mattered. The one who mattered.
current mood: loved (3 comments |comment on this)
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5:56p
Within two minutes, Mrs. Brookman asked my mother if she'd yet considered hospitalization. I felt my mother's fierceness like a flood, but she looked calm and said, No. I'm not sure I've ever heard her be so firm.
I'm going back to school tomorrow, I guess. Mrs. Brookman modified my schedule - I didn't even have to ask! I have two study halls now. I got to meet the school psychologist. I never even knew he existed. He has a reassuring presence. I liked the way he spoke.
So. School tomorrow. All before and through the meeting, I was playing nervously with my hands. My palms have nail marks so deep I almost bled. School tomorrow. I will not be afraid. I will not be afraid. I only have to worry about my first and last class, it'll be easy. Easy. Easy.
It will be.
current mood: nervously okay
current music: iieee -- Tori Amos (1 comment |comment on this)
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8:45p
This is the best Valentine's Day ever.
I forgot to say earlier that I found out at the meeting that Mrs. Letzter was the teacher who brought everything to the school psychologist. JoAnna loves me. Amanda left a comment for me. David called me from his Scholastic Bowl meet just to ask how the meeting went. Jordan left me song lyrics. Sandra told me she is looking forward to my return. Cara told me she understands. Kristin is going to stay awake with me tonight, until I fall asleep. Her cut-off time is five in the morning. Until then, if need be, she's all mine. Leah wrote an entire entry about being happy about my return.
[ETA: AND I HAVE COFFEE ICE CREAM. HALLELUJAH.]
current mood: cared for
current music: I Know -- Trespassers William (3 comments |comment on this)
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