~I suspect no one reads this any more.
~Everyone's left and moved over to Livejournal. That's good in a way...and bad in another. Diaryland was my first online journal, and in a way it's still my favourite. It was also a different group of people.
~Sure--Bunny and Menucca and Coru and Anisa and the others moved over to LJ. But we're all different now. Bunny's crazier and working on coping, Menucca's in Alaska, Coru...well, she never updates much but she's a frat girl now, Anisa and I are living together and see less of each other now than I really think we ever have.
~Everything seems less innocent and more grim. This could just be my imagination...but I think we are all growing up. For some of us, it's taken longer than others and it's defedentally manifested itself in unusual ways.
~A 26 year old woman goes to college. A homeschooled kid works her way into the popular crowd. A religious woman leaves everything she's known for what basically ammounts to another country. A spaced out blonde becomes a young professional.
~Welcome to growing up. Please leave your dolls and action figures by the door where they will be marked 'collectables' and kept high on a shelf. You mustn't play with them anymore; it will ruin their resell value.
~As for me...I've not yet made it through college. I don't think I'm cut out to be a college student, to be honest. So, I went with the next best thing: a real job.
~I work for a company that is still a teenager at heart--or atleast a young college student. At our last staff meeting, my boss pondered the fesibility of expensing a keg each month so we could have a grill up on the top of the parking deck. During work hours. 2-drink minimum for being on the phones.
~I guess I'm taking this growing up thing more slowly than most. Easing into the frightening black hole of Adulthood. It's the kind of ledge you can't step back from. Once you reach a certian age...there it is. A hole yawning into nowhere. Do you timidly walk to the edge? Slide one foot in? Look for the stairs? Leap headlong into the abyss?
~I'm a young professional now. I'm a project manager. I'm a tech support lackey. I have responsibilites that I never expected this soon. I dyed my hair purple.
~I'm not sure I'm dealing well with this pusedo-adulthood I find myself in.
~There is also a boy. He is wonderful and I do love him.
~I look back on the boys in this diary. They are each there, represented like a kind of scar. Some scars are good because they teach you lessons. Some scars are bad because they remind you of lessons you didn't learn the first time around. Some are just...there.
~There is Colin, and there is Brian, and there is Brandon, and there is Andrew, and there is Ryan.
~Colin is the type of scar that is only just now scabbing over. It is the one that I pick at and worry and break open agian and agian. I don't know why. What attracts me to a small, arrogant, spiteful person like that? I think somewhere inside, he could be good and kind and sweet if he'd break open and let someone in. But he didn't. Instead, he pinned me down in his brother's truck and I hit him. Hard. In the throat. I've not been that frightened of a boy in a long time. Even now, I get antsy when I'm in a contained space and a boy is facing me.
~Brian is the good type of scar. I don't think I really loved him, but he taught me a lot of things. That I don't need boys. That I shouldn't settle. That I don't have to marry the first boy who asks. He also taught me how to say no. And reinforced my fear of penii. We would sit in his truck and he would say things that start with 'just once' or 'just a little' and I'm sure I'd tense up. He also liked spanking, which tended to make me cry.
~Brandon is a special case. He is or was Colin's best friend. My no-sex version of a bootycall. WAnder up to his room...participate in a few sloppy makeouts...never see each other agian. His was the first penis I saw in good light. First handjob ever. Strangely, it didn't scare me. I don't even remember feeling guilty. No strings, no emotions, no...like a chalkboard. Write on it and then erase it. There's no memory with a chalkboard and a good eraser.
~Andrew is another of those scars that I don't know how to classify. I would have dated him, I think, if he'd asked. But he never did. We visited his parents once. I slept on the couch and we made out on his bed. We watched Star Trek on a tiny TV and entertained ourselves with each other during commericals and anything that was flashy enough to distract me. I felt a little like a manequinn with him. 'What happens if I do this?' We were both still finding ourselves in that way. If we'd dated, I think, I would have lost my virginity to him and we would have had a fantastic, crazy, insane relationship that would have crashed and burned in two and a half months. It would have been ugly. I still see him once and a while and think 'Oh, I wonder...'
~Then there is Ryan. He is the current boy, and I hope the permnant one. I do think I love him. Do you know how 'they' say silly things like 'the only boy worth crying over won't make you cry'? That's a load of bullhockey. Ryan has moved 6 hours away and it is hard. I cry sometimes because he id not here and I am not there. I cry sometimes because the longer we are apart, the more we fight. And I hate to fight with him. But he is good. He respects me and he is highly intellegent and all around good. He is sarcastic and critical--which is hard to deal with a lot of days...but we make it through.
~Where was I going with this? It feels like an introductory post: here I am, please friend me and tell me how cool I am. Measure my worth in 0's and 1's.
~For once in my life, it isn't. It is just looking back and saying 'oh, look at that. I am far from where I started and have no idea how to get back.'
~I've started considering going to therepy. Actually starting to see a shrink. Do I need chemicals to help me deal with life and understand it? No, not really. But it would be nice to have someone to talk to who is bound by law and ethics to be silent on the matter. I'm on my own insurence now, and no one would have to know.
~I've found that I've tended to be more silent that not on some matters. Ryan and I just had a fight. It's mostly due to the fact that my job has me tied up and exhausted five days out of...well, five. I'm on the phones three of five days and when I get home, the last thing I want to do is talk to people. And I should talk to him. I need to. But all I really want to do is be held. I don't want to talk...I would like to just lay there and be quiet together.
~That's hard when there's three states between you.
~I feel, recently, like discersion is the better part of friendship. I will say that I am lonely, but not that we are fighting. I only told one person...and he's in Japan.
~Life is changing. I'm changing. No one's listening to me when I say 'Wait, wait, let me go back and do that agian. Let me take a Mulligan on my last two years.'
~I feel as if I may have missed my chance to be a college student. I never went out drinking. I never went out partying. I never went to concerts. I never was wild.
~Now I'm a young professional working for a man who might as well still be 21. I've been drunk around him more than throughout all my college years, I think. I've learned to love bars and cigerette smoke. I want to go out and get raccously drunk and stand up and shout that I'm still in college and I still have time to be crazy.
~The days are slipping away. My young foolish years are helf metled Jello--I keep trying to pick them up in my hands, but they slip away and fall back into the bowl.~