Midnight

The Nightshade Princess
2001-11-29 21:56:36 (UTC)

memories are just where you laid them

I nearly lost it again. When I got on the bus this
afternoon, there were screaming people in the aisles. My
day has been dull and lifeless, and I was just ready to go
home and sleep. They quieted down a bit after I got on, so
I did not completely spaz.
I have been remiss in writing... this I realize.
There has been no motivation for me lately to write. I
have done nothing these past 2 days. The only thing that
made this week bearable was seeing LesTaT on Wednesday.
Father does not wish to go anywhere... ever. He is
drinking more and more. It's beginning to worry me quite a
bit. The moment he gets home, he grabs a beer or a glass
of wine and does not stop drinking until he goes to bed,
and he doesn't stick to beer and wine, either. All he does
is sit at home and study his scuba book or watch TV, but
lately (to his credit) he has done a little laundry. "Oh,
YOU again," his look tells me when I speak to him, if he
looks at all. I don't even ask to go anywhere anymore,
because I know better.
I swear this house is killing me. The air, the walls,
the furnature, everything is infused with sadness, anger,
and memories that poison. Everything I've tried to forget,
every would I swore was healed bleeds afresh. I remember
mother and father arguing and screaming at each other all
day and part of the night. I remember going to bed with my
CD player in my bed, so that I could not hear them. I
cried myself to sleep many nights.
For years before that,I can see my father getting
drunk every day, yelling at us all for no reason in
particular, and going to bed. If we messed something up
accidently, he would not hold back on telling us how stupid
and truly worthless we were. The sad part is, after a few
years of this, I actually believed him. I'm still
struggling to pull some self-esteem from the dust.
I cannot tell him how I feel... once he used to be
interesting in what came out of my mouth, but he was on
meds by then and I guess it wasn't him I had befriended.
He used to ask my what was wrong, until I tried to tell him
and he got defensive. I got a single sentance in before he
stopped my flow of words with his own defensive replies. I
didn't tell him this, but he is a significant part of the
reason I gave up on men. I could not even trust my
father! There were some things that happened last year
that I do not want to talk about now. I really don't want
to become a sobbing little white and black puddle on the
floor again. I still only know 1/2 of it for sure, and the
other half I have some evidence that says it did indeed
happen. This is beginning to make no sense now, so on to
another subject.
LesTaT: A look from your eyes tells me why I am still
alive, still struggling through all that tries to hold me
down. Romance is alive within you, and beauty shimmers on
your long, blonde hair. You are my soul's mate. Together,
know we can rise from the dust we've been lying in and
paint the world with all the colours in our hearts. I can
see us there. I know we can make it. I love you.