So.

I’m sitting here alone, pondering exactly what it is about me that feels so out of place right now. I don’t quite know how to explain it. Things are getting strange again and I’m trying to build up that part of me that can just grin and bear it.

Daniel is backing off again and I don’t understand why. He came over earlier and we had dinner together, then I was tired so we laid down to rest for a bit. He barely touched me. He greeted me with this great bear hug, and was kind of standoffish for the rest of the time he was here. Which is not like him normally.

I’m not sure what is going on, and I’m not going to conclude anything. The only thing I know for certain is that while he feels that I’m giving him my all (and I’m trying), that he gives nothing back in return. And I don’t understand that. Sure, we don’t go out like he does with his friends. Yes, he’s paranoid about anyone finding out. I know and understand all of this. But is it so bad in light of the fact that when we’re together most of the time it’s like Disneyland? I thought things were pretty good. I still think they are. Definitely a bit odd, but that was part of it going in and I accepted that just like I do now.

I suppose I’m just disappointed. Because I’m over here missing him and wondering what he’s thinking and I wonder if he’s doing the same and I cannot give myself an answer. It’s not as though I’m asking for much, these things he feels he’s not giving me - I just really enjoy him being here, learning from him and teaching him at the same time, sharing myself with him, and getting/giving affection.

I got this wonderful birthday card from him two weeks ago telling me about how he looks forward to what the future holds, about how much I’ve given to the quality of his life. And yet I’m scared he’s backing out on me. And to be perfectly honest, I don’t think I could take that. Not right now, not when I’ve worked SO hard to have something good and share it.

Then again, maybe I’m just being paranoid from this bottle of champagne that I’ve consumed all by myself. When I hugged him goodnight and had to wait to see if he was going to give me a kiss, the fact that I even had to do that almost put me in tears.

What did I do in my life that was SO wrong that I’m sitting here now feeling like this?

What do you do when the entire world is slowly being consumed by this acidic sadness and somehow it gets a hold of you?

I still have this sickening feeling in my stomach whenever I see or hear an airplane. I have stopped driving down Wynnton Road because I cannot bear to look at the AFLAC tower. Three nights ago a plane flew over the house when I was outside and at first, I got that same familiar sick feeling when I heard it - then my sickness turned to horror as I looked up and saw the sparks flying from the engine of the plane and what appeared to be flames of some sort. It looked like fireworks! I didn’t believe what I was seeing at first, having never seen anything like that. I ran into the house and grabbed the cordless phone and called 911 to see if they were aware of this situation. The operator was absolutely dumbfounded for a few seconds and told me that she would notify the airport and thanked me for calling. My neighbors were outside taking out their Christmas tree and we stood there, horrified, watching that plane spewing sparks and circling the airport for the better part of 10 minutes. Eventually it landed at the airport, though no mention of it was made on the news or in the paper that evening. (My stepmother said she heard something about it but was barely paying attention.)

Later that evening I remembered talking to the operator and it hit me all of the sudden… I had dialed 911. 911. 9/11. And I cried and cried.

This is very much a different world from the one I lived in a few months ago. I cannot stop imagining those people falling from the Trade Center. Or the ones in the towers before they fell down. What were they thinking? How many on the upper floors knew what was happening? Did they feel that somehow they would survive this? How many close to the planes’ impact survived the initial crash and agonized until they died? Were they alive when the buildings collapsed long enough to realize it was happening? What was Christmas like for their families? Their parents and siblings, spouses and children, friends and lovers… What are we supposed to do in order to live with this?

I am not sure what to do with myself at times when I ponder these things. It is just entirely too big, and it represents some of the things I never imagined possible in humanity. Though I have had a lifelong emotional connection to the atrocities in the Holocaust and in Cambodia, I never imagined such a thing would be a part of my own history. Yet here I am and I accept that there are no answers for the questions I have. Which sometimes gives me enough pause to start asking different questions.

The truth is I will never stop feeling this sadness for what happened that day. Sitting there watching CNN while having my morning coffee without a care in the world, only to have it all unfold in front of me - live and on camera, as it happened.

I surround myself with the armor that is my friends and with Daniel, who is becoming a main source of strength and comfort to me.

All that any of us can do is to seek out the things we are a part of each day and measure what is important and what is petty, and use that as a gauge to see how many things we take for granted each day by wasing our energies on the wrong things.

I’m at work, waiting for another hour before I go home for the day, drinking a cup of vanilla rooibos tea and feeling a little silly. One of my favorite movies ever, Mr Holland’s Opus, was just on. That movie makes me very weepy at the end, so I was here a few moments ago just crying like a little kid with a skinned knee! It’s funny, isn’t it?

A lady named Jackie called here earlier to tell me how much she was enjoying my show, that she just moved here recently and would be a faithful listener from now on. She asked me what days I worked so she could be sure to tune in. Wasn’t that nice! She made my day.

I was hoping Corey would call so I could wish him a Merry Christmas. Corey is this guy that calls the station all the time just to talk. He usually tells us what a great job he thinks we’re doing. He’s somewhat slow and simpleminded, but there is no harm in that. I think sometimes that I’m one of the only people that is nice to him and spends time talking to him for a few small moments, because he tells me how others hang up on him or are just outright rude. I look at it like this - this guy has NOTHING to do all day, and as a result sits at home listening to this radio station at all hours. All he needs to feel special and important is to have one of these local “celebrities” talk to him so he can feel like he’s got friends on the radio. Maybe he tells people that and it makes him feel important, I don’t know. He’s never had an unkind thing to say to me, and even though he’s annoying at times, I will never hang up on him before talking for a few minutes. If talking to me helps him feel validated and good, then great! I’ve done something good for someone. I shouldn’t imagine he has many friends or much of a homelife based on some of the things he’s told me. And it’s not that I feel sorry for him, I mean I suppose I do pity him him in a certain way, but I was raised to never turn down a kindness without saying “Thank You” first.

So wherever you are right now Corey, I hope you’re well and having a fantastic Christmas. I’ll keep you in my thoughts.

What if I stopped?
What if I quit?
What if I just threw up my hands and walked out on this shit?
Would you even know, know what you were missing?
Or would you want to take back those times you just talked and talked and talked and talked and never listened?

What if I tire?
Get tired of playing grown
What if I just turned on my heels, took my ball and went home?
Would you then regret all those things that you said?
Or would you stop opening your mouth before you engage your head?

What if I left all my ghosts in the past?
What if I just grabbed my guitar and stepped out on your ass?
Would you then stop playing, playing the game just to win it?
I’ve learned we don’t want you as captain, we just want you to play in it

Did you forget who you’re dealing with?
‘Cause I’m the queen of in between
Just throwing it back and throwing a fit
Look at the board and let’s check the score
It’s one for me and none for you
Oh yes it’s true, look what you signed up for

They wonder why women just want to pack up and leave
It’s ’cause we’re given too many grievances and no permission to breathe
So as far as I’m concerned, it’s time for me to go
And if you want me you can find me
In the town that you can write me
It’s called KISS-MY-ASS, MEXICO

Did you forget who you’re dealing with?
‘Cause I’m the girl to hold the world between the downy cradle and a raging fist
And if you ever want to settle the score
Well pack a lunch and bring it on over for the ride
Look what you signed up for

Look what you signed up for baby…..
Look what you signed up for honey…..
Look what you signed up for sugar…..
Look what you signed up for darlin’…..

When I was little at christmastime, I loved to get up when everyone was asleep and turn on the tree lights. I’d move some of the presents out of the way and lie beneath the tree, looking straight up into it and breathing that smell deeply. I can remember the smell of the Christmas tree and how much fun we had decorating it. My father would put on the lights and my sister and I would put the ornaments on. My mother was either in the kitchen making something or watching us and smiling. I remember there always being a fire in the fireplace, and the Glen Campbell Christmas Album (still my favorite) played on the stereo. As I got older, shortly after they declared war on one another, I came to realize what my favorite thing about Christmas was.

There was never a fight during that time. It was clear that they actively despised one another, but they had enough sensibilities between the two of them that they never fought or argued for that small time. I’ve come to realize since then that I appreciate this as the final vestige of their trying to preserve a bit of “Family” harmony in our home despite the war they had some time ago waged with one another.

When they fought, they fought bitterly and viciously. It didn’t happen with any regularity or frequency, but it was always threatning to happen. They had slept in separate bedrooms for many years before they finally divorced, and I can clearly remember them going through days and weeks and not even speaking or making eye contact. Sometimes that was wore than the actual fighting when it happened, because you were always wondering when… When would the lid blow off again.

Throughout my childhood and my angst-ridden teenage hell, my sister Shay was my protector. She occupied me all of the time, took me with her wherever she went, and made sure that I was kept as far away from them as was possible. When they would go out of town on business trips and it would be just us at home, we would spend the entire time breathing freely and not worrying about anything going on in other rooms. We laughed again and spent time feeling the calm and peace, dreading the day when they would come home and it would all revert to the alternating silences and occaisional venom.

I could always tell when my mother was feeling calm, because her affections were boundless and she made it a point of telling us how beautiful and special and wonderful we were. So talented, so smart, and so loved. And when she was unhappy or feeling desperate, we were the ones she had no choice but to extract sympathy from. After all, where else was she to go? We were all she really had. My father had no one at all to confide in, and so having no outlet for his frustrations, it was all bottled up and vented at the most inopportune times.

This was all a very long time ago, and I hold no ill will towards either of them for their survival at that time. I have come to understand them better and although their choices would not be my own if MY children were involved, they are of a different time and mindset altogether. They didn’t have the advantages and support I have.

I love my parents, in spite of their treachery and ultimate failure. I have learned and been given many things as a result of their sacrifices, and for that I am grateful. But there are worse crimes against children than fighting in front of them and threatning life. There are worse things than cracking open a child’s sanctity and letting its contents spill out.

Worse things like not looking when you should and trusting the wrong people. Worse things like relinquishing the magic possessed by all parents to detect the monster that dwells within the last person you would expect to harm your baby.

I am a grown man now, and my life is very different as well. I have many who love me whom I love equally, and a very special man who makes me feel like no drug ever did. In my own way, I am happy and vital and free and boundless.

I love my parents, but cannot honestly say I like either of them. I would be devestated to lose my mother
or father at the same turn. Keeping my distance is the only way I can love them without letting myself resent them in their entirety. I’m working very hard as always on that, and finding a way to invite them back into the life I’ve made for myself, but it is so hard. Indeed, there are worse things.

I cannot begin to explain how centered I feel right now. I’m going to try though, because I want to mark this occaision for reference in the future.

I have felt so uninspired and unaccomplished for SO long. It was as if I spent this amazing space of time living vicariously through someone else’s dreams, chasing after them at times, and never giving thought to the ones I had for myself; the ones that could quite easily validate who I am and would be one day.

Daniel has helped me to change that to an extent that I never dreamed possible. There are things that I’ve always imagined and yearned for that felt like a blueprint for someone else, but were never destined for me. I have maintained that my resolve has kept me by his side when things were wonderful and when they were difficult, but held onto my conviction that it was right. I cannot explain how I know that, I just stick to my philosophy that when you know, you just know and better you accept that and not question it. I’m now feeling the rewards for that work and it overwhelms me.

He is by far the sweetest, most thoughtful man I’ve ever come into association with. He thinks at times that he doesn’t give me all of the things that I give him. On the afternoon of my birthday, he gave me (by phone) probably the best present I’ve ever been given in my entire life. When I asked him what he’d done up until that point, his reply was “I’ve spent the first half of the day thinking about how wonderful you are.” It moved me to tears, and made me feel like I was dancing in brilliant light. That someone this amazing who has completely altered the course of a life that needed it so desperately would show that, demonstrate it, give life to it and animate it into emotion, there is nothing that compares.

I am now in the position of declaring my feelings for him sacred, as this is nothing that I’ve ever experienced before. And there is SO much I have to even get to yet! The mere idea of things in the future, whatever they may be, brings me to a level of optimism that I never knew I had within me.

He wrote me a note and wrote to me in my birthday card and I know what it took for him to say those things to me and mean every word. I know what I mean to him for him to have committed these words to paper for me and about me. His evolution and reinvention is nothing short of miraculous, I cannot explain how incredible it is to bear witness to what he is becoming. For him to tell me the things he does and tell me at the same time how good I am for him just takes me back to a time when I knew nothing of such things. How for everything I’ve been through and survived, I never really lived before.

I’ve done everything I knew to do up until very recently to survive and keep my head above the water, because it was all I knew to do along with breathe. And someone has shown me with very clear eyes that I’ve only just started being alive again.

However long it’s been that I’ve forgotten that very simple fact. I will never be the same, and I’ll never go back to what passed off as living. I’m making memories from now on.

Just about to leave for dinner, we’re going out for Japanese. Have had an interesting day thus far, I’m really looking forward to eating dinner and seeing my baby - I didn’t get to see him at all yesterday, (I’m on the phone with him as I type). So anyway, I’m outta here!

First of all, I posted earlier in another entry reply that my birthday was the 13th - that must have been on one of my crack-induced days, because my birthday is on the 14th.

So.

There’s this really amazing song called “Lover, you Should Have Come Over” by the late Jeff Buckley that I’ve recently rediscovered. I liked his father Tim Buckley’s music, he’s the male equivalent of Joni Mitchell in a way. Jeff’s music resembles his father’s in a very odd way, and his voice is uncannily like his dad’s. Untimely deaths, the both of them. There was so much more great music that could have come from the both of them. If you’ve never heard that song, I reccommend it. And from Tim Buckley, I reccommend the song “I Must Have Been Blind”.

Hopefully, I can get all of my Giftmas shopping done tomorrow. That’s the plan. I have my list made out for the most part, and will hopefully get it all done early. If not, then I’ll finish it on Sunday when I get off work.

Jennie’s coming soon {WAHOO!!} and that will be cool. She’s in for some MAJOR culture shock, coming here from Los Angeles - but I think it will be a nice change of pace for her. At any rate, I certainly hope so. I know that Drew’s very excited, he called me this afternoon and I could tell it in his voice.

So.

My plan is to get up early, have coffee with Maggie and then if the weather is permitting, go for a nice long walk and breathe deeply. I’m going to the station sometime late to be with Renea, so I’ll have to get a nap in the afternoon sometime. My baby’s coming over when he gets off of work, and that’s what I’m looking forward to the most…

The song that describes my current state of mind is not necessarily for the lyrics, even though they are fantastic - it’s more to do with the music. Great song, and a must own for any true music lover.

I’m coming home to you
I’m cold - I’m a mess
I’m coming home to you
To get warm and undressed

There have been changes beyond my dreams
Everybody wants me to sing
There have been changes beyond my grasp
Things I’m sinking in

So keep me in your bed all day
Nothing heals me like you do

And when somebody knows you well
Well there’s no comfort like that
And when somebody needs you
Well there’s no drug like that

And when I’m here and in your arms
And I’m safe again
I’ll close my eyes and sleep
To the sound of London rain

So keep me in your bed all day
Nothing heals me like you do

I was thinking about several different things before I drifted off to sleep last night, the first of which are my parents. I was thinking how nice it it would be to explain who he is to me and ask them to be happy for me.

Mama will be happy for me, depending what mood she’s in. Daddy will no doubt try to make light of the issue and give me JUST enough to make me think he’s cool with it, but dare not give me too much, somehow explaining that he only wants me to be happy, but then sucessfully negating that statement while working in his disdain for the entire conversation. I’ve learned to live with his disapproval - it changes nothing about me to have it or not, truth be told - he made his life decisions and I don’t necessarily approve of his methods myself, but so long as he’s happy that’s all I care. His approval or lack thereof has no bearing on me living my life according to what is right for me. There are worse things than him having a problem with me in light of the fact that he’s FAR from perfection. All I have to do is think back to some of his own choices and it keeps me from being upset. I can humble him in my mind fairly easily at this point. I love my father, there is no doubt about that, the fact that I have ANY sort of relationship with him at all is already a good thing, and after September 11th my priorities have shifted. I have to make myself happy, life is entirely too fleeting and I cannot live for anyone else’s expectations if they aren’t meeting some of my own.

I was also thinking about how just completely addicted to this man I’ve become. I’m at that point where being with him physically, or at least talking to him on the phone, makes me light up and not having him there kind of makes me “Blah”, unless for course my friends are around. When I lay down beside him, and we’re not talking, I’m so relaxed that all I want to do is fall asleep and be as vulnerable as possible in his presence, just because I trust him enough to feel that I could. Last night, I was falling asleep in his arms - not because I was really tired, but because I was safer in those moments than I can ever remember being since I was a small child.

And all I can think of is how long before I get to do it again…