Boxing Myself In

Sometimes things happen. Life crushing things, Things you don't know how to get over, or past, or through. Its like this one song we sang at camp where the subject of the song comes to a spot of tall grass, "Can't go over it, can't go under it, can't go around it, gotta go through it." The thing is, I don't want to go through it. I don't want to feel the pain, the cuts and nicks and bruises that I will endure will be more than just a sting.

I feel like everything escalated over something stupid. A distasteful joke that didn't even APPEAR to be a joke. That made me out to be a bad friend who would choose her own child. Well, I will ALWAYS choose my own children. But lets be honest here, I tried and tried all day to have her come over. After she said "not today" I went ahead and took Kai to Percy Jackson. We had fun. Then I came home to the most hurtful thing I have seen and experienced. 24 years of love and loyalty and as she put it "ride or die" just thrown to the wind. Guess that means we died. I am angry. I am hurt. Other than when my ambien knocked me out, I have been crying. I can't stop. Did I waste 24 years? I don't really think so. But maybe she does.

She has let herself become a person surrounded by awful. I think maybe she thinks she deserves it. She doesn't. She deserves someone who will REALLY love her. But she settles for whatever comes along and smiles at her.

I have dealt with different kinds of friend loss in my life. Nana was my best friend and she died. Saggins was my friend and I didn't even realize it until it was too late. We've had friendships deteriorate and then start to rebuild. I had two close friends move, rather suddenly and we're not really that close anymore. But I still had her by my side. Or I thought I did.

I don't want friends any more. I don't want to allow myself to ever be hurt like this. Sometimes you have to climb inside a box and hide. Make sure you have room for your family but no outside people can enter. Being boxed away with my husband and children will be enough for me. But I am going to do it, box myself in. I can't ever feel this way again, and if I don't let anyone in, I won't have to.

I just hope she keeps this clean. She said something about playing dirty and for her sake, I hope it doesn't involve my children. For them, I will fight. I'm not comfortable with Kai going to his school now. She works there and I know she can be petty and vindictive. I have seen her at it. I want to put in for a transfer but Sam thinks we can handle it at the office.

My heart aches. My head hurts. I feel empty. I feel angry. I feel completely betrayed. All in the name of friendship. I think I will just go back to my box.

When He Was Gone Part3

She stood there with their daughter, together facing person after person. Shaking hand after hand and reciving hug after hug. Everyone was a blur, the words seemed muffled and unimportant. She tried her best not to glance to the left too often. He was lying there in an unfamiliar way, looking different and still the same. Unmoving, he was so still.

His mother stood on her right, pursing her lips and looking as though she was holding back tears. Taking in all the sympathy the widows and old family friends brought with them. She didn't know. She could never know. His last birthday had been streamers and ballons. Party hats and presents, close friends and his family. She hadn't been there. "Too busy" she had said. Glancing past to the little girl she snaps, "Stand up straight. Have you no manners?!"

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Rufus was clutched in her small fist and she hugged him to her shast as she leaned against the wall. Standing all day had made her tired. People told her they would miss him too. She thought they would have to. He was good. Her grandmother was mean and yelled at her. This woman who never came to visit. She couldn't have been his mother. He was good. She looked at her mother and sat on the ground, waiting for a small sign of support. It came in a thin smile with soft eyes. Her mother had always said she looked like him when she was being hardheaded.
She leaned her head against the cool wall and drifted off, to a dreamless sleep.

When He was Gone; Part 2

Finally she rose from the pillow. Tears had fallen from her eyes for an hour, maybe more maybe less. She went to the shower and let the hot water cascade onto her face. It still felt like her warm tears lay on her face. But she knew now no more would fall. She wasn't sure if they ever would again. She dressed in dark colors. He had always liked her in dark colors, though he would have been happy with her in his old sweatpants. He loved her in anything. Maybe the dark dress clothes were wrong. But it was expected.

Last night was hard. Today would be harder. More people expressing sorrow and condolences. The older women, the widows saying they understood that they too had been there. She would give the expected half a smile of gratitude and talk to the next. But none of them understood. How could they? No one had exactly what they had. No one knew what it was like to lay in his arms and feel completely loved. At peace, comforted. And she had made him feel the same way. It was an understanding they had. They knew what they had and what it meant. No one else had exactly that. No one else could know her grief exactly. Now she had to face the day. She stepped into the hallway. She had to get their daughter.

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She was six years old. She knew what had happened and she understood. He wasn't coming back. Her mother had explained it very clearly to her, like she was a grown up. And she was capable of understanding it this way. She was far from dumb, and surpassed the intellect of most adults. She sat on the edge of her bed holding a stuffed dog. He had given it to her when she turned 3. The dog had become her favorite toy. She called him Rufus, though it hardly seemed important now. The dog's name didn't matter. It mattered that she still had a piece of him.

The other grown ups had tried to talk to her like a child. Telling her stories to ease her mind. They had all seemed full of holes. So she had asked her mother. Her mother had told her the truth. That she didn't know what happened after he died. Maybe he was watching from somewhere, maybe he was just gone. No one could know. This was ok with her. She had appreciated her mother's honesty. That made more sense then the fairy tales the old people told her with wings and halos. He would look silly with wings. If he was watching, then he could just see, he didn't need wings to fly around. That seemed silly.

She heard the floorboards in the hall creaking. She crossed the room with the Rufus dog under her arm. He was going to say good bye too. It was only right. The door opened and her mother smiled at her. She took her hand. And together they went to face the day.

Magic Writing Excersice

*Ok. So this might not be good. Sam and his friends are giving it a try. I don't play the game, but I thought maybe to try to urge my imagination and creativity into working again, I would try as well. What you do is choose a magic card and a land card. The land is where it takes place. You can use any part of the magic card to create a story (at least that is my understanding) So first here are the cards I have chosen. The Land is marked and the other card I chose for the idea that the picture and title invoked. So here it goes.*





Mirsa had lived in the land called Agnostos Paradeisos her entire life. Her grandmother, Jolrael had discovered the beautiful place in her youth. There were exquisite mountains jetting up between lush and beautiful forest land. There was a stunning waterfall cascading from a swiftly flowing river directly in the center of the land. The mountains encircled this ideal place, leaving only one entrance, through a shadowed forest along a path speckled with sunlight. At the bottom of the waterfall was a pool, from which the river continued to flow through out the valley.

It was in the pool that the magic of Agnostos Paradeisos truly lingered. Mirsa sat near the water brushing her torrents of red hair. Her grandmother had warned her everyday for as long as she could remember to not set foot into the water. Not until the pool called to her. So, everyday since Jolrael began to tell her that Mirsa sat near the water, listening. Sometimes she would sing, sometimes she would nap in the gleaming sunlight, but more often than not, she would remind herself why she was not allowed in the calm waters referred to as the Dream Tide.

Sixty odd years ago Jolrael had been wandering the forest and stumbled upon the path which lead to Agnostos Paradeisos. She thought she had just found a beautiful place to call her home. But she had found much more. She had found in the land and in the Dream Tide a true ally. Jolrael hiked to the place where the waterfall met the pool. She began to undress so that she could bathe, for she had been walking for days. Before she could place her foot in the cool water she heard a whisper. Frightened that someone had been spying on her she pulled her nearby cloak to her body and glanced around her. No one was there. Yet she could hear the voice whispering still, though she could not make out the words. "Who is there? I demand to know," Jolrael shouted. The whisper began to grow louder, more clear.

"Jolrael, this is a place of great magic. A place where you and your descendants will be safe. Trust the Dream Tide to guide you. Bring to us your friends, let us tell you if they are true. Prove to us your trust in us, then you may bathe in the glorious waters of the Dream Tide, in the land Agnostos Paradeisos." Jolrael could hardly believe her ears, the whisper was coming from the center of the pool, and the louder it got the more ripples began to appear. It was as though something or someone dwelt beneath the water.

Obediently she re-dressed and began to walk back to the place where she had separated from her friends. They were still seated in camp, lazing about instead of preparing to move on. They seemed to have barely noticed her absence or her return. "Come with me my friends. I have found a place of great beauty where we may rest our weary tired bones in peace for a while." One man, Grogan, jumped up and began packing. He thanked Jolrael for thinking of the group and scowled at the others until they too began to pick up camp.

Jolrael lead the party down the sun speckled path to the entrance. The entire group gasped at the beauty of the land. She lead them down to the pool at the base of the waterfall, and bid them all to bathe. One by one the group sank into the refreshing water. Then suddenly they all began to drift off to sleep. The waters began to bubble and ripple around them. Jolrael again heard the voice from the water, "None but one is your ally Jolrael. They deceive you and plot to ruin you. The one called Grogan, he may stay with you, and bathe in our waters with you. But the others are not permitted, and immersing in our waters has sealed their fate."

With that, all the party members other than Grogan began to slip beneath the water, still deep in slumber. Grogan awoke with a start once they had all vanished. With the help of the whispering water Jolrael explained to Grogan what had happened. Grogan expressed great gratitude to the Dream Tide, and great love and admiration for Jolrael. The two were wed later in life and continued to live in Agnostos Paradeisos, bathing in the cool waters of Dream Tide, and trusting the mysterious and magical force which helped them, to tell them when an ally was untrue.

The Dream Tide even accepted some others into the waters, but the number was very few. Eventually after Grogan and Jolrael had children, the children were accepted. Then later the grandchildren came to be judged. The Dream Tides seemed to not be as quick to condemn the blood of Jolrael, and either eventually granted permission to enter the water or banished the person out of Agnostos Paradeisos. All but three grandchildren had been accepted. Two had been banished, and now Mirsa waited. Mirsa pulled her hair into a bun at the nape of her neck and sighed. Suddenly she heard a soft whisper, "Come to us young Mirsa, it is your time." Slowly she slid off the rock, and into the Dream Tide. The cool waters enveloping her completely. She was one with Agnostos Paradeisos and the Dream Tide at last.

When He Was Gone.

She raised her head off of the pillow. It was morning, she sensed it in her stomach. But it was dark as pitch. The wind howled outside her window, whipping past with a violent force. She was alone. She knew it mere moments after waking. She still wasn't used to this, waking up without him here. She stretched a slender arm across the bed and felt the cool fabric of the pillow next to her. He hadn't been gone so long that his scent was gone, and she wanted to hold on to that forever, to continue to breathe him in as long as she could.

She didn't know if she would ever be able to bear changing the sheets, washing his scent away, clearing the bed of all signs he had ever slept there with her. Her stomach tightened and lurched at the very thought. No, she wouldn't do that, not yet. She inched her body across the bed and wrapped her arms around his pillow, breathing in deeply as she placed her face down into the soft place where he used to lay his head. And there, smelling him, missing him, sobbing, she screamed out in grief.




*This is just a piece of fiction. Came to my mind and I wanted to write it down. I thought to use this journal as a place to write my poetry and fiction, rather than my thoughts. You can comment if you like. It may not be good to your mind, but thats ok. I may add more, I may not. Who knows.*

Constant

Happiness. Seems a vague concept doesn't it? Everyone thinks that they have it. Until they find something better and realize they didn't. Go about your life, fool yourself. Say, "I am happy with how life is going." But how is life going? Do you love the person you are with? REALLY and truly. Are you unhappy with them more than you are happy, do they make you miserable an equal amount of the time. I thought to be really happy and really in love it was supposed to be more good than bad. But look at the world. Thats not how people live. They say, "I love that person, but I hate them too." Can you love someone you hate? I don't think so. It doesn't feel right. If you LOVE someone, truly and completely love them, then you don't hate them. Not a little, not at all. You may become frustrated from time to time, but you talk it through, you work it out. You don't ignore it. Because though it isn't discussed, it hasn't gone away. You are still thinking of it, they are still thinking of it. You are keeping things from each other. And there is where the trouble starts.

The husband and wife argue about bills. She needs new shoes, he says no way. They have a brutal argument in which they call one another names and hurt each other. Then they go to bed. No talking, no making up. Turned away from one another, angrily trying to ignore the person next to them. The next day, no one mentions the fight, they pretend it never happened. Then she goes out and buys shoes. She doesn't tell him. Starts small, with shoes. Soon she thinks, "why tell him I bought that dress, and since I won't tell him, I will wear it when I go out with the girls. Well I don't need to tell him I had a few martinis while we were out. Or that I made a new friend in that guy Joel. Joel listens to me, Bill doesn't. Bill doesn't have to know I am meeting Joel for lunch, its just lunch. Joel makes me happy. Bill doesn't need to know he kissed me, it was just a friendly kiss." See how much stupidness ensues from just keeping one little thing? This happens all the time. I see it. I watch the world. And it makes me sick.

Just like I hear that to a mother no one should mean more than her child. I am going to love our son. Completely. But not more than Sam. Think about it, you devote your life to this child who grows up and makes a life of their own, then you look at your spouse and you realize, we don't know each other any more. We don't even like each other any more. I spent the last 19 years dedicating my life to our child, and my husband drifted off into his own life, because he wasn't AS important to me. Now we're married, but completely separate. That seems a sad life to me. I will love our son and my husband equally. Differently yes. Because you cannot love a husband and a son in the same manner. But equally. Neither one will mean more than the other. Because Sam is my best friend. And after our son has grown up and made his own life, I want to know that I will be able to live out the rest of my life with my best friend, who I still know and trust completely.

I am lucky to have what I have. Not many people get it. My husband and I literally mean more than the world to one another. Nothing comes before. Our son will be on par with us. To US as US not him and I, our son will come before everyone else we know. He needs that to grow into a person that is good. He needs to know that above all else, his parents loved him and did their best. Not that they put him aside for their own selfish gain. Never. Granted, when he gets older, if Sam and I have things that need to be talked out, that will come before him playing a game with us, or going to a friend's house. But the most important times, he will know we are there for him. But he will also grow up knowing that Mommy and Daddy love each other as well, and they have a relationship to maintain, and that is just as important.

I used to think I was happy. I recently found out that there was at least one person jealous because of how happy I seemed. I wasn't happy. Not really. I did the fooling myself thing. Not worth it. Now I have Sam, and I feel this complete happiness and contentment all of the time. And our son, well he only strengthens that. Granted I still have stress. I still rant and rave. But the majority comes from the outside. Not the inside. I know what is important now. Its the inside. Its my family. My husband, our son, and me. Before all others. It might be taken as harsh by some people. But most people should understand and see what an amazing thing we have. If ever there was something to be jealous of, for good reason, I believe its this.

It is good to have friends, and family that you can count on for support and love. People who understand you, and what your core family has. This is a great thing. People who get that your core family comes first. And they are willing to hang out with you when its possible, and not get upset because you have a family activity planned for when they wanted to come over. These people, are good people. All people are selfish, I know, but you should want to surround yourself with people who are generally unselfish, and you should grant them the courtesy of the same understanding they give you. Be grateful for these people. They are the good ones.

Irrational and Bitter

It's been a while since I wrote anything in this blog. I have to say, that everything is working out. Sam and I got married a month after my last post and, now we are expecting a baby in April.

Things however with our friends have changed. Its not been an easy road. We've come to realize that the people we were once friends with, are bad people. The kind of people to whom real friendships mean nothing. Now we sit back and see the lives they are choosing to lead. Too bad, they could have been good people. My sister is still hanging around with one of them, and I have to admit, it pisses me off. I feel as though she should know better. And that she should realize that this somewhat feels like a betrayal. She tells me it is just so she can borrow things. But I am not as stupid as apparently she thinks I am.

I don't understand why bad people exist. Why things have to escalate to anger and harsh words. I am so angry all the time it seems. I think it is because of all the shit Sam and I have to deal with, and this neighborhood. I hate it here. Stereotypical assholes, who don't realize there is more to african american culture than speaking in ebonics, listening to music WAY too loud and teaching your children to be ignorant, disrespectful, stupid little retard assholes. And it isn't just black people. ALL the people in this neighborhood are that way. With the exception of the few people with manners. I can't stand going outside when the kids are out. All they do is stare at you with their little re-re mouths hanging open and bark at you, because god forbid they use english. Literally, they bark like dogs. I hate it here.

One day I am going to go off on someone. I swear. It will be someone from this neighborhood, or an old "friend" for lack of a better word. Bad people. Gah. Stupid people, slutty people, bitches, assholes and everyone who thinks they know us better than we know us. Like those people who said we would be bad parents. Haha when your children end up pregnant at a young age because of who you let them hang around with....well any way. Thats just me being irrational and bitter. Kind of.