what i want to talk about, what i want, what will be, what won't.
2004-05-16 3:07 a.m.

so maybe its time i started writing again.

i dont even know where to start.

i have experienced and felt so much that you, the reader, will not know. the last you know of me is what you read in the last entry.

but everything has changed, and I can't decide if I even feel like filling you in. After all, this is my journal. But then again, I owe it to you to explain what may seem to be a sudden mood shift. So i will do it quickly.

one of my two best friends, christine, passed away may 3rd after a battle with cancer. it is the same christine of the title of this webpage: "no coma mas leche christine, por favor." (by the way, if anyone is interested, that is a joke from a while ago. christine once said to me, "i have GOT to stop eating dairy foods, it gives me gas.")

If you want to know more about her life, read her obituary here. you can also read the entry she wrote for me a while back here.

no, i don't want to talk about it. i dont want to talk about the painful heartache i have right now, or the sweeping feeling of denial I get everytime i think about her face. i dont want to talk about the dream I had about her this week. I dont want to talk about the funeral and I don't want to talk about her family. I don't want to talk about any of that.

I want to talk about how empty the room is right now. Stefanie moved out on thursday. The ugly mattress that used to be hers is the only thing left. That and her Turbie Twist. I feel so incredibly alone right now.

I had been talking to accordian boy, but he, like most of the men in my past, flaked out on me. Saying he'll call and then "forgetting," not returning messages or initiating conversations.

I really want to care about that, but I find it increasingly hard. There is so much in my life that I can't find the energy to give a shit.

And yet...I notice that my thoughts are returning to adam, the biggest flake of them all. It doesn't matter if you know who adam is. maybe his name is philadelphia boy. whatever. i am thinking about him more lately. there is somethign very chemical about my attraction to him. i was doing good for a while without him (interestingly enough, the phrase "without him" implies that at one point i was "with him." do not be misled).

what i really want, right now, is this:

i want to be done with school. I want my teacher to excuse me from these two essays that are due on monday. i want to pack up, and go home. and when i go home, i want a man in my room, ready to hold me. we are going to lie in bed all night, and all day, and then the next night, and we will only get out to get food or to use the bathroom.

we will stay in bed as long as I feel the need to, and he will not let go. i will cry for a long time, and there will be tissues. i will experience two of favorite feelings at once: being held, and the sheets against my bare feet. we will kiss a lot and make love, because making love is more powerful than death. and he won't ask me why i need him, or whether or not my feelings are healthy, or if i've considered "talking to somebody." he won't question my emotions or needs.

and when i have had my cuddle quotient filled, i will get out of bed, put on my favorite jeans (which are no longer missing a button, but have been fixed by my mom), write in this diary. because this is something i love to do. and i will read published short stories and poetry by lucille clifton. and i will get paid $15 an hour, tax free, to read poetry. i will sit in the basement all day, and the window will be open and the roses in bloom, and my cat will be next to me. I can read about london, and not have to do any unnecessarily confusing preparations like course equations or travel visa paperwork.

at the end of the day, i will be with my family and friends. we will watch movies and they won't talk through them, and i will have my own chair that i share with adam, and laura will be near me, and so will my mother and my cat and jason as long as he doesnt nag me, and christine's mother will be there, and so will everyone else that i love, and i will miss christine but it won't hurt; it will feel sweet and soft and I'll be happy to have known her.

but it won't hurt, and i won't be here, alone, with work to do and jobs and england to think about, and adam wont dislike me, and my dahlia wont be just a stalk with leaves, but will have beautiful pink blooms, tall like sunflowers, large perfect blooms, layers of petals upon petals, fading from white in the center to blushing pink at the edges, like the sun.