05/13/2012

i’m back to writing two entries a day and i apologize. i’ve spent more time alone in the last four hours than i have in months and it feels so awesome. no eric, no sushi, no mom. i just want to sprawl out on the floor at stare at the fan and relish this time alone.

more importantly, it gave me time to look up something that brought me immense satisfaction and closure. i facebook stalk tom every now and then. i just entered stalk mode deeper than i ever have with tom and found pictures of his ex girlfriend. because i’m immature and stupid and he made me feel so shitty about myself, i take a lot of happiness in knowing that i’m a lot prettier than she was. sorry for all of the in your face pretty talk lately, but…yeah, sorry. it also makes me happy to see pictures of tom in disarray and grossness. his apartment was gross, he had terrible sideburns, and he was a little hefty. yesssss. no wonder he was always so terrible to me. i was WAY out of his league.

i’m finished being immature now.

i don’t know if the photo is working, but my photobucket isn’t. that’s me. the second in from the right.

when i saw this picture, it made me think about how i relate myself to my parents. since i’ve been able to reach mirror height, i’ve tried to figure out which parent i favor more. i have my mom’s eyes, my dad’s facial shape. but this picture is different. i look like me and i almost didn’t recognize myself.

my mom tells me frequently i look exactly like her when she was younger. she thinks part of the reason my dad struggles with me is because he sees so much of her in me, physically and emotionally. she asked me today what i considered myself most out of a square, a triangle, a circle, and a figure eight. i said that i’m most definitely a figure eight and this apparently means i’m a non-conformist.

i’ve thought a lot about death lately. about religion. about gay marriage. about marriage. about love and peace and happiness and solitude. about loneliness. about satisfaction. about why i’m here and who i’m impacting and where i should be going. about what i’m wasting and gaining. about sleeping in versus waking up and running errands and hitting the ground running and not wasting time. but what is wasted time?

buck, the dog i’ve had since i was twelve, died yesterday. my dad sent me a text at 5:19 am to tell me. is this what’s left of my relationship with my dad?

while i’ll miss buck, he meant something different to me after my parents’ split. he symbolized us. my family. buck was laughter and swimming in flood waters and long family walks after dinner. my dad told me a few weeks ago that buck was having liver problems and he was going to pass soon. i brought him a bone and sat next to him for an hour and cried and leaned into eric and thought about my family and buck. he was one of the only tangible memories i had of all of us together. he was getting better; the liver problems went away but i think it took too much of a toll on his body.

what is life? is it sunsets and rainstorms with the most fantastic lightening ever? or is it the way i feel when i’m driving in the car with eric screaming song lyrics as loud as we can? is it the ache i feel when i miss my brother? is it all of these things? when i’m old and "ready to die" will i actually be ready to die? are you ever ready? is life so tiring that around seventy-five you’d rather just pass?

i need to sleep.