Freshly Stitched and Afraid of ChoirMan

So, two days have passed and I don't feel any better. I am freshly stitched and so many promises have been broken that I can hardly find my reflection among the glimmering shards and fragments of glass. And I wonder if I will ever have another change... I wonder if I will ever have another chance...

And it makes me feel sick to know what has happened, and to know that he blames me even more for what happened on Monday night.

And my eyes burn and are so heavy and my head aches despairingly and I just want to close my eyes and have it all be over.

And I am thinking about Monday and how much I don't want to see him today!!!

****************************

Anyway, later... And sitting in rehearsal and beneath the sting of my eyes, wanting to die, die, die, die, die, die over and over again. I know that I don't deserve him and that this is really some kind of divine justice, but I can't look that justice in the eye and I can't bear what this is. (And VJ tells me that it is the typical burden of "being a woman in America" or something like that...).

And I don't want to look up, don't want to look up!!! So I will scribble for the rest of rehearsal if I have to.

To Do...

1.) Clean Room and Laundry
2.) Practice Ear Training (chords)
3.) Get dry cleaning
4.) Cable Box!!!
5.) Buy Books
6.) Email German history for syllabus
7.) Start to do HW readings
8.) Go to Patelson's and the makeup store

Swing Dance at Faculty House...

Perversions

I'm sorry, AIR7...

I'm drunk at the Dive Bar but I still care for you... You don't understand what loving me really means and I don't think that you ever will. You don't understand that love is pain because pain is the strongest emotion there is and that is what I give to you... that can be my only gift to you.

**********************

1:52 AM

Okay... So now I'm sitting on the steps outside Hogan waiting for KSing to get back. (I made her walk back up with E-the-R because I really just can't risk it). And I kissed ChoirMan... No! He kissed me. (I want to write it while my memory is clear and so I don't forget anything and let myself think that this was at all my fault!). And he kept kissing me...

I told him that I didn't want it... Or that if he wanted to kiss me, he should call me and make a plan that was not in front of everyone else. Because I know what they must be thinking and everyone hates me. But I know that he never will... I know he never will...

Anyway, I don't deserve AIR7 after this, and I don't deserve shit. I am not strong enough for any of this!!! And I know that I will see him tomorrow and pretend that everything was okay... I will pretend to ChoirMan that it's all okay, even though I want to die inside. And I will pretend to AIR7 that it's okay even though I want to die inside because I am not worth of him... It's like he loves me until he remembers who and what I am and then he doesn't love me at all... He remembers what a worthless piece of shit I am... a girl who can't even hold herself together...

And he plays that voice message over and over, hearing the pathetic betrayal in my voice and he is reminded of how disgusting I am and how pathetic I am and he is reminded of why any of this pain existed to begin with...

It is because I am shit and I love him and he doesn't care.

And it doesn't matter what I do' and it doesn't matter how hard I try' but I am shit and I have always been shit and I always will be shit. I am so cold here, sitting on the steps of Hogan... I think I will go inside and check my messages to get out of the cold for a while.

Purple Clouds

Trying... Trying... FAILING.

Tears in bed.
Pink eyes in purple clouds.


(To forgive is stupid? No. But to forget is really stupid.)

The Willow Tree

To CAFE 107 and wanting to forget, turn around, etc. Panic attack with KSing on 110th Street. Going into Rite Aid to buy razors. Fighting with them about going up (Ray's car). Cutting myself in the cab, smiling at John Jay, intercepted and "cleaned up" by AIR7. Slipping extra razor blades out of my pocket. Going home at 4:00 AM, cleaning up the situation with email and phone calls.

Collapse into sleep (in the hammock of the willow tree).

The Forced Promise

Okay, I am writing this here because AIR7 asked me to.. I must never, ever cut myself. Unless I go through this entire list first! People to call:

1.) Dr. G.
2.) BigSis
3.) GoldenFinch
4.) AIR7
5.) B
6.) KSing
7.) PhyicsGuy
8.) NiS
9.) Anxious
10.) Susanna
11.) My mom
12.) A help line
13.) Go to St Luke's Hospital physically

Anyway, I have to do this for AIR7. He says that he loves me and that it hurts him to think of when I harm myself.

It's weird how I write in my journal less and less... But it's because I'm sort of happy. I am still really scared because there's so much I'm unsure of with him. I think I lveo him... but at hte same time, he always controls circumstances and that scares me. It's like he knows what he wants and that's what's good for him and that's all that he cares about. Anyway... I am watchign my soaps, so I will write more later...

Between Two Worlds

On the LIRR on my way home... BigSis is leaving for Rome tomorrow and I am going to see Jol play the tuba in All County Band today. I didn't want to get up and leave his arms this morning. And now I have to go home and face that infernal power struggle between me and my mom... And I swallowed twice last night. I don't really know what we're getting into...

That Day at the Whitney...

Well, I'm still at AIR7's and it looks like I'm staying over again... My mom doesn't want me taking the train back too late..

The exhibit at the Whitney today was really great-- Duane Hanson. It was super-realism. Statues. Every piece had an air of melancholy and each figure was trapped in its station and life. Also, the people looking at them seemed to become art themselves and it allowed everyone to be seen in a different way.

I'm just so damned exhausted that I can't even really express what I mean...

That Night on the Carpet

Well, once again I am writing in the absolute blackness of night, only this time it is more like early morning (around 7:00 AM) and I am with AIR7. Things are getting stranger and stranger and stranger. He still says that he loves me but I wonder if love is really need. (And this whole room smells of sex). I guess I'd rather not analyze what is going on. (Is this pen running out? I can't see in the darkness, but it feels that way). And five times is enough to even wear me out, although AIR7 is definitely asleep and I'm still not the slightest bit tired. I suppose I will pay for it tomorrow...

It sucks that I have to go home tomorrow and be reminded of everything...

Well, maybe I should try to sleep at least three hours before the morning. AIR7 and I are going to the Whitney with his Aunt Rochelle tomorrow...

Florida Nightscape

I am writing in the pitch blackness, trying to sleep here in Florida and I can't sleep at all. Ten million thoughts tumble through my head. I remember when ChoirMan told me that he buys his wife emeralds (the night at Carmine's when his daughter came and so did Contessa). Also, wanting to talk to B SO badly... God, how I miss him! I wonder if he's thinking of me at all... Remember the last night I saw him and I said that I might come back a blond? I really meant it.

Which leads me to the question-- what color should I make my hair and how can I make a drastic change?

There is so much that has happened in the past week. I'm scared of AIR7 too. I mean, I know that he said he's the one that loves me, but why do I feel like it's my heart that's vulnerable? And how will I ever translate any of this into a novel? I want a STORY. A small plot an not this crazy broad one.

(This is not a dream my friend and it will never end. This one is the nightmare that goes on!)

Waving the red flag...

(I'll live inside you forever.)

Write about fat... nobody would read it, but you would be brilliant. Trapped. Trapped in your own body.

April sat in the room... rocking back and forth... She didn't know how she got there, but somehow this room had always been hers and she loved it because it was hers and nobody could take it away from her, but she could never leave.

Storms

Still in bed, and with a stiff neck. BigSis is in the shower. Today we are going to lunch, the flea market, home for rest, dinner, movies or the mall. What a life!

Remember when "Haven Avenue" was really a "haven?" Now it is part of the insanity and I have only escaped it here, although he follows me in my mind and in my dreams.

Last night there was a terribly violent thunderstorm that woke me and BigSis up. Electric lightening brightened the room and flashed and screamed and the thunder roared.

But tomorrow that will be a week ago and my breast is stills scarred.

BigSis is coming out of the shower in a minute and it will be my turn to go in...

**********************

Later, and sitting outside. I wonder if he is thinking of me...

New Year's Fallout

So, in Florida now and life goes on. Spent the day going to brunch, the mall to see Stepmom, and now back at the house at 10:00 PM. I'm just glad that I got out of New York after New Year's Eve. God, that night was an absolute disaster. BigSis knows everything. She saw everything. But at least it's out and we talked it though. Things will be fine with her.

As for AIR7, well, that's the letter I am sending, so I guess the best thing is to just forget all about it for now, although I don't know if I'll be able to. I wonder if my mom is right and if he set up that situation with Brandi on purpose, even if it's on some subconscious level.

God, I have a really stiff neck! I need B at a time like this!

I am still exhausted form that night though. (God, I can't stop thinking about him!). Why does it change everything that he told me that...? BigSis is talking to Bro-in-Law on the phone right now. I wish I could call him but I can't and I shouldn't want to.

Life is so different without being at school. I am going to stop with the cutting. I think that's what scares him the most. (By the way-- note to tell him about the perky waitress that called me "hon" and was our age).

Well, I have to force myself to forget him and work on myself. I can't though... Six more days until I see him again.