Author: Jess

You know I’m feeling heart-broken when I’m listening to Ani’s Educated Guess because I feel like I need to, not just because it’s a good album. Meh. I guess that that’s life. And I guess the summary of that relationship was: you win some you lose some. I’ve been blogging mostly privately lately which I really sort of hate. I think I’m the kind of person who will make all those feelings public by the time they’re burried in the archive. It just seems silly to hide it. I’ve found that most of today I’ve been alright though. Despite the anxiety. I’m sort of sad. Sort of betrayed feeling. Sort of ready to move on. But mostly I’m just starting to try to feel alright again. I don’t have to supress my anger anymore, I can let go into it and then get past it and that’s probably the healthiest thing for me right now. And it’s nice to actually enjoy the singularity that I was aiming for when I broke up with Joe in the first place. Agh. (That’s a partial-lie that I’m telling myself to feel better right now). Man, I’m just really fucking all over the place about this. I guess that is the nature of heartache though. I notice that I’ve built a lot of walls. That I’m terrified to trust and even more afraid to love someone who isn’t myself again. I haven’t felt this way ever before that I can remember. Maybe with Colby, but that was really different. I was just really sad and heartbroken for the first time. I just want to push everyone away right now cos I’m scared of what hurt I could feel next. You really did a number on me, and in no time at all. I’m thinking an unsent letter might be the best way to deal with this. But we all know that my unsent letters always get sent. Always always. Maybe I should write an open letter. Open letters are the best anyway.

I wanna write a bunch of poetry. I like writing and reading poetry. So far today I’ve only managed to read two poems. One was by Hunter S. Thompson, it was alright. Hunter S. Thompson. You know. Writing poetry on a napkin in a diner, I’m sure. Writing poetry that makes you cringe a little as you read it outloud for the first time but by the end of it you shrug and say Well, that’s Hunter S. Thompson and move on to the next. Not bad. The other was by Tupac. Predicting his own death. Tupac is one of the major reasons that I started writing poetry. It’s nice to read him again.

I saw Stranger than Fiction for the second time with Steve and we hung out last night for a few hours as well. I think the movie was just as good the second time, but I totally have a crush on Dustin Hoffman in the movie in a sort of creepy way and so I have to factor that into my love of the movie. Plus, Maggie Gyllenhaal and Will Farrell and everyone… wonderful acting and I think the script is good. There are parts of it where I just get really caught up on the wording. Like the scene where Kay says “Like all things worth writing, it came inexplicably and without method.” I love it!

I’m also really glad that Steve and I are hanging out again, turns out I’ve missed him quite a bit. I was thinking during the movie about how long I’ve wanted to just be able to get along again and I’m glad we can do that now. It’s sad that he leaves for France in a week though… I keep thinking back to this conversation we had over one of our first dates about how in a few years he was going to study abroad in France for a semester and i remember being really sad at Paisanos that he’d be leaving because I had this really… loving… sense of “i’ll miss you” and I just sorta didn’t want him to go. and so much has happened in both of our lives (including the rise and fall of the most significant relationships of our lives to date) since that dinner and now we’re friends again and I’m sad he’s leaving again. How interesting life is. But in a good way. I’m so excited for him though. I think he’ll have a good time and I think it’d be fun to run into him in Europe in the summer maybe and nice to have the chance to really build a friendship when he gets back.

Well, I lied. I hope I feel good about myself now. Mostly, I don’t. Mostly… that conversation was one of the worst I’d ever had. I just kept thinking about my brother and how young he is and how much I care about all of his girlfriends that I’ve known for so long. And how the feminist-in-me’s first urge is to protect. So much for being radical.
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today was the first day of school and the one-year anniversary of mckeithan’s death. both went by pretty well. i had dinner tonight with katie and kandy to talk about mckeithan and stuff and so that we didn’t spend this day alone. man. what a weird thing to have him gone. but i think we’re all dealing with it alright. i don’t know. i’ve gotten over so many of the bad feelings. now it’s just the grief and the sadness that he’s gone. and a whole lot of happy memories for the time that i did have with him. i think sometimes i feel guilty that i don’t cry about him every day. because he meant that much. i think sometimes i still live in a hazy form of denial where i think that maybe if i go to the places where he usually is… then he will be there. but he isn’t. and really… it’s the times that i do go to those places that i do still breakdown and cry. kandy and i talked about maybe buying a memorial of some sort for him. maybe just a brick somewhere. “some place that we could go” since there isn’t really a grave to speak of at all… but certainly the only place to go is in NC where his ashes are. i don’t know. i think it would be nice if there was something to commemorate his life somewhere in town where i could go and sit and talk.

agh.

i miss him so incredibly much. it’s so hard to lose someone that you’re so incredibly close to. he meant so much to me and i just can’t believe that one day he was just gone. i really wish that he would’ve lived even just through that week so that i could’ve spent state with him. i wish i would’ve debated my freshman year… i wish i would’ve been around the squad more. dammit. i just wish that there was more time, you know. more time.

now i have dreams with him sometimes though. dreams where he gives me advice about whatever. it’s very mckeithan-esque advice you know. like “well… it sounds like you know what you’re doing…” and i know exactly what he means when he says that… it was nice to be able to talk to him like that in a dream. because i know that he’s there in those dreams. and that i’m still seeing him. and i’m still talking to him. i just have to do it in this other place now.

all my love, let’s be free.

ps. i still dont’ know what i’m going to do about this message i have to respond to. so far… nothing. maybe i’ll post my options privately and then deal with it there. oi. maybe i’ll just write pages and pages of poetry about it. and try to get it out of my system. i think in the end the best advice i’ve gotten has been from steve. but that’s not the advice i want to take. here here.

hey. psst. remember that time you went to bed on martin luther king day and never woke up again? hah. that was a good one. where are you? i need sent to the library, again.

oh man. who knew this day was gonna be this hard this early? i’m just not taking this very well at all. it’s 7 a.m. i haven’t really slept since my awkward and long nap from 5-midnight. and i don’t think i’m going to sleep at all today or tomorrow. i’m just… so… angry and scared and bitter and all of those things all over again.

i’m just going to watch buffy until i forget about it. call me.

You know as well as I do who we’re reading about,