If you've been reading this blog in the last few weeks, I want to say thanks. I don't deserve you! Big Hug! I love reading all of your comments and it makes me feel part of a unique group of women who I've come to treasure.
Now, I've mentioned before that I've been spring cleaning ~ sort of. Not my house. Heaven forbid I should pick up a dust pan or break out the vacuum. I've been going through all the files on my computer and papers in my nightstand. You see, I used to be a writer. Ha! Sounds funny to say it now because it's been a struggle even putting a coherent sentence together lately. But, this blog, and all of your blogs, have inspired me to start practicing again. I don't know if I was ever really good, but writing makes me feel good. It's helpful to get my thoughts down on paper and out of my head. That's always been my problem. I think too much. Writing helps me let go and move on. Well, it used to. After I had my daughter, I was too busy to write. My brain was mush.
Now I feel like a human being again and I want to get back to writing. Having this blog has forced me to write everyday and that's the first step as far as I'm concerned. I've been reading so many great blogs lately. You all have been so inspiring. So, in the spirit of dusting off the cobwebs, I present yet another diary entry ~ this time from my 20's.
November, 11, 1998
Yesterday was my birthday. I am 22 years old. I hate that word - old. I’d rather think of myself as 22 years young. My birthday, this year, has been one of the most memorable. I went to the city to surprise my sister and I think my visit made her happy. It’s strange to share a birthday with someone for 20 years and then , all of a sudden, have to celebrate it alone.
I brought a little piece of home to her office in New York. Then, [my future hubby's] family threw a party for me. We ate vanilla cake with rainbow sprinkles. I tore open my birthday cards, pretending not to notice the money stuffed inside, and thanked everyone for thinking of me. Later we went to a bar and just when I was about to sit back and enjoy the final hours of my birthday, I spotted a familiar face across the room. It was him.
It's been almost four years since we’ve seen each other. My heart dropped into the dark spaces of my stomach where pain and regret lay. I had to decide quickly whether to recognize or ignore him. I chose to turn purposely away from the two and a half years that changed me forever. But, as the past always does, it snuck up behind me and tapped me on the shoulder.
My head was spinning because I had no idea what to say to you. hatever it was it was going to be long and mean. I never got to say the things I wanted to say to you after we broke up. I think in the beginning I was in love with the idea of escaping another relationship, not you. You were just a warm body, a shoulder to cry on, in the beginning. ventually, you weren’t even that. I sure as hell shouldn’t have expected to be happy with you. You made me feel worthless and stupid. You were a liar and everyone knew it except me. And what about the kicker, you didn’t tell me the condom ripped.
How dare you take my life in your hands. I am furious and dizzy with disgust. You knew and you didn’t tell me. Even when we found out, you acted like it was no big deal, like you had gotten another girl pregnant. I went through everything alone. I lied to my parents and my friends. I sat in your room, in the basement, in agonizing pain, bleeding from the operation, and you went to work. I had to call my mother to come get me and lie again as to why I looked like shit. I lost a piece of myself in that clinic and you didn’t care. For all I knew this had happened to you before. We never talked about it and it changed my entire life. I have never been able to forgive or forget. I can’t even face up to the fact that it even happened. I feel dirty and ashamed and it’s been 5 years. I want to be able to let go and forgive. I want to be able to tell somebody and not be afraid they will judge me.
Everything after that was a blur. I could kick myself now, letting it go for so long. You treated me like shit, yet you said you loved me. I know there must be good things to remember but I’ve forgotten them now. You took that away from me when you left me that day. I will never be the same. I don’t want to blame you, but I have burdened the grief long enough. I want recognition that you were involved - that it hasn’t been my lonely journey. I wanted your shoulder then, but you never offered. My anger turns quickly to sadness as I think about the damage that was done.
When I saw you last night I expected more and all you could say is “are you on something?” All that did was make me sure that we were never meant to be together. Well, I’m my fingers are tired from typing and so is my heart. I don’t want to think anymore about the baby we almost shared. Do you know that to this day I cannot say the words - what I did. don’t know if you will ever understand the effect that our relationship had on my life. In most ways it was, bad but I want to find what’s good. You helped to make me the person I am today and for that I guess I should thank you.
To this day, I still can't say the words.
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11 comments:
Wow...what a moving entry! You wrote that really well. I have always kept a journal of sorts, however I cannot bring myself to share the past with the present, you are brave and strong.
Wonderful entry, and really well written :)
You didn't "used" to be a writer, you are a writer.
Tragically beautiful. I hope you share more.
That was an exceptionally moving entry. You are most certainly a writer. And what's more a writer with a story to tell. Thanks for sharing this powerful piece on your blog.
i second mrs. chicky: you ARE a writer. thanks for sharing!
I have tremendous respect for your ability to write and your capability to reveal such intimate thoughts.
You are a rare, kindhearted and talented woman.
off subject: I love how you gave a little personal 'shout out' to several blogs...I may do that myself one day! I will be certain to include you!
Oh, for sure, brave and strong. I don't think I could eber write something this...compelling. Or frome the heart. God bless you.
This is lovely. And thanks for the compliement - I think the best of what we can all do as bloggers is inspire and challenge one another to push ourselves in our writing. Glad you feel it's happening for you; I feel it from everything I read every day.
you had a difficult decision and you did what was right for you at that moment in time. no one can judge you for that. i know that experience has made you stronger and more understanding of other people's situations, and i am sure your daughter will appreciate that in the future!
Mrs. Chicky said it perfectly -- "tragically beautiful." I could almost feel your intake of breath as you spotted him.
You are definitely a writer. It comes through strongly in the way you tell your stories.
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