Marian

My Very First Best Friend

2009-02-20T20:03:00.001-08:00

I turned 8 years old in 1980. The best decade of my life. LOL. Everyone in the world had big hair and a can of Aqua Net. Men had long locks and wore spandex and we thought they were hot hot hot. Olivia had us getting Physical while Ozzy had us Barking at the Moon. Michael Jackson was still mostly black and Billy Idol rocked my world and my dreams. Jelly bracelets, bangles, big hair, leg warmers, mini skirts and lacey socks with heels. ZZ Top would make us recognize the value of great Legs and we Desperately Sought Susan while dressing Like A Virgin. No one had a cell phone, you only talked when you were at home. Television shows were actually funny and there were way less commercials. We kids could walk miles around town without a parent. Cindy Lauper gave us color hair and announced that Girls Just Wanna Have Fun. It was the 80's.

In the fifth grade I met my very first best friend ever. She became a part of my family and I definitely became a part of hers. We were inseperable and we loved all the same things. She was third in a line of seven children and her house was full of love love love despite the extreme poverty in which they lived.

When I was in the eighth grade a double tragedy fell on her family. One of her older brothers passed away from epilepsy and her four younger siblings were taken by the state and given up for adoption in what was a very very unfair and tragic case.

From that point on our lives took very different turns and periodically we would lose touch but we were still best friends even from afar. Bad things would continue to happen in both our lives but at different times.

The last time I saw my best friend was when I was about 18 years old (for those of you unaware of my age.... that was 18 years ago). She had just given custody of her infant son to his crazy father and grandparents because she lacked the self awareness of her abilities to succeed in getting custody. Two days later she left the apartment where I lived and I never saw or heard from her again.

Yesterday, my son was playing with an answering machine as he usually does and as I listened to the repeating messages I've heard a dozen times I suddenly heard a voice I knew. It was my friend's mother, essentially my second mother. She had called on Saturday and now it was Monday. I nearly fell out of my chair I was so excited and I almost started to cry.

Yesterday was a glorious day as I talked to her and learned all sorts of wonderful and some sad news. My friend's oldest brother passed away last December of a brain tumor. The good news, my friend is doing wonderful now. She has a great man and another child, an 8yr old boy. She owns her own house and is having a great life. All of the children who were taken and adopted have been located. They too are all healthy and living reasonably good lives. Only one has not actually talked to my friend or her mother, but I am hopeful that she will. We talked for over two hours.

Later in the evening I finally got to talk to my best friend. It was amazing and we shared our memories from our time together and talked for over three hours. I was so happy that I didn't even need my depression medication. LOL.

Having this contact with these people reminds me of who I was before I got so lost in life and has renewed my strength that one day I'm going to be whole again.

I just wanted to share this story with everyone and remind everyone how freakin' cool the 80's were. Hope you are reminded of some of your own great memories..

Fawn

http://www.associatedcontent.com/article/376367/the_top_ten_craziest_fads_of_the_1980s.html?cat

Tick Tock

2009-02-20T20:02:00.009-08:00

Original Post Date: January 18th, 2007

TICK TOCK

Have you ever noticed that when you're sad the ticking of a clock is the loudest sound in the world? Every tiny click is like a gunshot reminding you that time is rapidly passing you by. Every lost second is a sign that you won't be getting back to where you were. Your mind twists itself about wondering if there is a way to warp time. You know, change it or travel in and out of it. The stuff of science fiction. Probably based on the crazed ideas of heartbreak and grief.

TICK TOCK

BANG BANG

Once the sound of two hearts beating. Now the sound of one heart crying. Time itself is endless and yet... our time is limited. And when you factor in time lost, childhood and old age... our time is even less. I guess I could say I'm in the heart of my time right now and it's just slipping away from me like sand through my fingers. I'm alone and the longer I'm alone the more likely I am to stay alone.

TICK TOCK

I wonder sometimes where would I go if I could travel through time. Which point would I go back to? The beginning, the middle or the end? I scan my memories wondering when would be the right moment for starting over. Definitely before his accident. Definitely before that last Christmas. Definitely before we began losing so many of our dreams. But when precisely would be the right time to return to? I have no idea because so much of us was great even when circumstances weren't good. Moving to Corrales eventually destroyed us, but a great many wonderful things happened there. A lot of memories were made right there in the midst of all the bad. So how do I choose a perfect moment? I can't. The perfect moment in all actuality is the equivalent of all our years together. And those came to an end nearly two years ago.

TICK TOCK

BANG BANG

Once the sound of two hearts beating. Now the sound of one heart crying.

Dream Ghost

2009-02-20T20:02:00.007-08:00

Original Post Date: January 14th, 2007

Your arm is draped over my waist as you lay behind and beside me. You come around to face me. So long since I've seen you this way. You lean down and kiss me ever so passionately. Oh the touch of those lips, how I've longed to feel them. As you take me I'm reminded of why I've always loved you. You complete me. Your hands are everywhere, touching me, loving me. Oh the joy I feel in my heart. This moment is bliss. My heart pounds with happiness. It's happened. You've returned and all is right again. Your voice speaks of love. My eyes are weeping with love renewed. We move in perfect unison, unmarred by time apart. We are as we were always meant to be. Together. I lose myself in the glory of our uniting. I can stay in this moment forever. But wait, you move away. Is it over? Are you leaving again? No. You have brought the gift of eternity, the never ending circle of gold. The promise of forever. A symbol to others that there is only one. Oh my...

Suddenly the world shifts. There is a rapid change in the way things feel. My eyes flutter. NO!!! The world has changed. I am back to the nightmare. The others call it reality. NO, NO, NO!! It was a dream. It was only the ghost of your memory that touched me. I weep uncontrollably. Oh no, I cannot take this pain again. It felt so real, I was so sure you were here. Now I feel as though you've only just left. I can still feel the touch of the dream upon my skin. Oh, why must my mind play such tricks on me? Why does the memory of you come to me in the depths of sleep only to flee at the light of dawn? My mind races, still sure that it was real. It scrambles about trying to find proof that it was not a dream, but my heart grieves at the truth. You are not here. If only I could find a way to stay in the dream. I could be with you forever there and I would be blissful. I long to stay in my dreams, in your arms, in love. Better to live in a dream than to love a ghost in reality.

Broken Promises and Idle Words

2009-02-20T20:02:00.005-08:00

Original Post Date: January 4th, 2007

I'm sick to death of empty promises. I'm tired of being told "Don't worry." Sick of hearing "I'll always be here for you." Every promise is just a bunch of words. I promise...doesn't actually mean anything at all. There is no keeper of the promises. No overlord to watch and make sure the promiser keeps his word. A promise can be broken at any time and there is no law to protect the one who believed in the words. Together forever is just a phrase and I'll be there for you is only uttered to comfort. Just idle words. Neither one meaning anything.

I don't need to hear the promises. They do me no good. It doesn't pay the bills and it doesn't hold me tight in the dark. I need action not talk. No action...then walk. Leave me alone if you're not really going to be here for me. Don't try to touch me if you don't plan to stick around. I don't need any more emptiness than that which is already in my heart and in my life. I don't need your words.

I don't need false hope. As I am already without hope in my world. I have been beaten down, let down, have fallen down and all because of words and unkept promises. I fear the words I hear. I know the path they lead. I know the deception they contain. I know the hurt they will inflict. I don't need them and I don't need you.

Coming Soon

2009-02-20T20:02:00.003-08:00

Original Post Date: December 30th, 2006

Good news for the month is that my son was born a little earlier than planned. It was a rough delivery. Lots of pain. I should have had the epidural. Won't make that mistake twice...LOL. Kingston Jeremiah was born Dec. 20 at 5:23pm. He was 7 lbs. 2.1 oz. His head was a bit too big, most women know what that means....tearing and stitches in places no stitch should ever be. I keep getting told things like "oh, but he was worth it huh?" Um, the answer is no, not when there were other options...LOL. He is a joy though. He is absolutely beautiful. He rarely cries and when he does it is with reason. He sleeps four to six hours at a time which means he nearly sleeps through the night, though this needs just a bit of work. His night and my night differ just a tad. It's all good though. I love my son and I'm glad he's here.

My family is all very excited to have this joyous bundle in our home. My brother brings everyone who comes over into the bedroom to see the baby. He is such a proud uncle. He is still nervous when it comes to holding him and picking him up but he's getting better. My mom is finally remembering how to do it all. It's been a while since she's been around such a little one. It's fun to watch her with him. She cuddles him and rocks him and smiles this googly smile. It's awesome. I feel like he's brought a bit of happiness into our lives that we were lacking before. For my brother, he has helped to fill the void of not being able to be with his daughter the first two years of her life. Her mother is this awful woman who refused my brother's financial support and then denied him the right to see his child. She's a bitch. So he missed out on everything and now he's getting to see what he missed and he's loving it. What a gift this child has turned out to be.

So the holidays aren't quite over but I felt a need to write. For starters let me apologize for my angry response to the holidays themselves. Jeremy and I were the biggest hams for the holidays. It was the most special time of the year for us. We always did it up in a big big way. No matter how broke we were we had a tree, presents and a big dinner. We bought gifts for everyone including our pets. I did all the decorating and Jeremy did all the shopping, well, we shopped together for the most part, but he did the gift choosing. Without him, Christmas just hasn't felt the same. Not since the day I came here. In the years before I made it okay because at least we got to talk on the phone, but the last two years he has been completely absent and I have been completely sad and even angry during the holidays.

New Years is still on it's way. That will be a really tough one. Before I came here, Jeremy and I were NEVER apart for New Year's no matter what. We were together and shared that midnight kiss. I've only kissed one other person at New Years since we parted and I can honestly say that it couldn't compare to the feeling I had with him. I try to be asleep before midnight now though I'm sure my son will have other plans.

The sadness seems to have grown stronger since giving birth. I had my mom and my brother there beside me but I still felt so alone in that hospital. Totally surrounded by people but completely alone is one of the most bizarre feelings in the world and a Classic depressive symptom. I cry so hard these days and I can't seem to catch them anymore. I used to be able to reel them in and now they just flow and I sob. Last night I had a dream that he was here. I could feel him. Could hear his breath in my ear. I made the mistake of thinking it was real and opened my eyes. My gut wrenched when I realized that I had lost the dream state and the moment was over. Nothing worse than reality in the wee hours of the morn.

It has snowed fiercely in Albuquerque. Something like three feet of snow and everyone staying. I cry when I see it because I remember that Jeremy and I took advantage of alone time in the house during times like that. Cuddling, movies and intimacy with no worry of going to work or anyone stopping by to visit. Just us spending time together and watching the snow fall. Then in the evening we would go and walk in it. I love walking in newly fallen snow. I love to hear the crunch beneath my feet. Now I hate the snow. It's pure whiteness bringing tears to my eyes. The larger the flakes the larger the tears. Go figure it would start snow now when I'm almost through the holidays.

After New Years comes my birthday. A day Jeremy never once forgot and always made a big deal of. With it being so soon after Christmas you wouldn't expect much but he always managed to make it something to look forward to. Now...I don't celebrate birthdays. I don't want to think of my birthday. After that comes Valentines and then we're clear till the Fourth of July. Yep, you guessed it, Jeremy and I celebrated every single damn holiday together without fail until I came here to this dreadful nightmare town. So, yeah there's a lot of baggage to be dealt with in the coming years until I finally heal from all of this.

So that's where I'm at in life right now. I'm going to be doing some blogging soon. I posted a little piece last night, a preview if you will. I feel words beginning to form in my mind again. But they are slow coming. I'll do my best to stay on top of things though and give you some worth reading entries. Can't guarantee you'll see anything more pleasant than the rest of my stuff but hey, this a process and it's just gonna take time. I'll try to put some humor in here from time to time just as a distraction from the depression. My last attempt at humor was taken far too seriously so we'll see...LOL. Also I expect to be adding a new picture of myself to this damn page. You know, that one in the corner is like six years old now. I still look the same though I'm sure there are a few new wrinkles and definitely a different hair color. So watch for that. Lots of things coming soon.

Anyway, I've missed you all and I will try to catch up on some of the blogs you all have written in the last month or so. I admit I haven't been on here much and have really fallen behind on the happenings of my friends, but I'll try to make up for that. Love to you all. Hope you are still reading. Thanks for stickin' around.

Little Girl

2009-02-20T20:02:00.001-08:00

Original Post Date: December 29th, 2006

I wish I could go back and be a little girl. Skinned knees were the greatest pain I knew and a mother's kiss could heal. Oh mama. Why'd he have to go away? And why'd he have to hurt me so? Mama, did I do something bad? My path has been long and hard. I've paved my road with many mistakes and now my heart is heavy with ache. Oh mama. I'm so weary. How do I let go of little girl wishes and little girl dreams? Why does it have to hurt like this? Oh mama. Why did I have to grow up? Why did I have to fall in love? Why did I have to lose? What happened to the days of dress up and make believe? I want to go back to the days of Santa Clause and the Easter Bunny. I miss believing that anything was possible. I miss the days of dreaming of the perfect man for me. I miss the days of knowing I hadn't met him yet. Oh mama. Is there no magic to heal this wound? Is it childish to daydream of his return? To sit like a princess in a castle awaiting the arrival of her fair prince? I don't want to dream of his not returning. My heart can't take the pain of that thought. Oh mama. I stand before the mirror and see the adult that I've become, but on the inside I'm just a little girl. My heart is broken and I don't understand why. What of the stories of love ever after? Why did I have to learn those lies? Oh mama. This little girl just wants to go home.

It Should Kill You

2009-02-20T20:01:00.006-08:00

Original Post Date: October 22nd, 2006

It Should Kill You:      The other day I watched one of my many many favorite movies, Under the Tuscan Sun, and something she says in the movie finally hit me in a way it never had before.

     "The most surprising thing about divorce is that it doesn't actually kill you, like a bullet to the heart or a head on car wreck. It should. When someone you've promised to cherish till death do you part says, "I never loved you." it should kill you instantly. You shouldn't have to wake up day after day after something like that trying to understand how in the world you didn't know."

     Now that I am going through the equivalent of a divorce, I finally get it. The pain you feel is physical as well as mental and it's true that you begin to think that if it hurts this bad then surely you're going to die because only death could come with this much pain. To think this pain is the beginning of something instead of the end of everything is unfathomable.

     Someone recently wrote about the old expression, "What doesn't kill you makes you stronger." He said perhaps this is just what people tell themselves to get through the moment. I tend to think that is true. Just because I manage to survive this (and I'm sure that I will) doesn't mean that I'll be stronger. I've been through many painful moments in my life. Moments that devastated me. Lost children, lost loved ones, lost loves. And I have to say... they didn't make me stronger. Being able to block out the pain doesn't signify strength.

     After my first miscarriage, I found the second one easier to block out of my daily thoughts... sort of. And with each one that came after that, I cried less and less. Was I really stronger or did I just learn to bury my pain? I never stopped mourning the losses. I never stopped wondering, "What if?" I never stopped feeling that stab in the heart when I saw babies in the arms of others. I just stopped crying. Was I really stronger? No, I don't think so. In fact, I know so. I just figured out how to ignore the pain, but it was still there. Learning to cope isn't necessarily strength. Learning to just not feel anything, isn't strength. I'm learning not to feel and I'm learning how not to care. What will I become then?

~Solemn Vow

I cannot forget him anymore than I can forget that the sun rises in the morn and the moon at night. He is the air that I breathe and the food that I eat and the water that I drink. I can no more live without him than I can live without any of those. But death does not come, for I am bound to this life and its responsibilities until the end. I shall never again wake to the beauty of those eyes looking down upon me as I slumber. Never again shall I hear the sound of that voice calming my fears. Never again shall I hold those strong hands in mine and feel their strength and security. From now on I shall be the voice of calm and my hands will be the hands of strength and security. I shall walk this path alone. Though many will stand behind me... none shall stand beside me. For now I will do what I have to do, then slowly grow old and wait for the day when I can pass from this life into the next, if there be such a thing.

Fawn

Random Act of Kindness

2009-02-20T20:01:00.005-08:00

Original Post Date: October 16, 2006

I have these sporadic memories that hit me lately. This is one I’ve never forgotten.

Fourteen years ago Jeremy and I were living in an apartment complex at the end of San Mateo in Albuquerque. I used to work at Winchell’s Donuts. We didn’t have a car so I used to walk to work. It wasn’t far and so I wasn’t intimidated by walking alone. Jeremy worked two jobs so he wasn’t available to walk with me.

One day, in the middle of the afternoon, I was taking my usual walk home. I was dressed in frumpy clothes, hair pulled in a bun, no makeup. There was nothing sexy going on in my appearance whatsoever. A man in a car pulled up alongside of me and asked if I needed a ride. I said no and kept walking. There was a large hotel on a corner along the way and I usually cut through the parking lot to shorten my trip. I was almost through the lot when I realized that the man in the car was following me. He pulled into a spot and was watching me. I started to panic, wasn’t sure what to do. I knew there was a bar in the lobby and I was near the door of that bar. I was just twenty years old and irrationally thought that I couldn’t go in there for help because I was a minor. What a strange thought.

I made the decision that they would help me and started back in the direction of the door, still keeping an eye on the man in the car who in turn was keeping an eye on me. Suddenly a man came out of the bar and for some reason I sensed that he would help. I approached him and said quickly, "A man is following me." He hugged me like we knew each other and then we both turned to the car and I pointed at the strange man following me. He must have panicked himself because he suddenly started his car and pulled out and away. The stranger I had placed my faith in, walked me to the corner closest to my apartment. After I thanked him for his help, he turned and walked away. I never remembered his name, though I’m sure he told me. His name didn’t matter, he was a guardian angel and I’m glad he was there that day.

I don’t know if that man ever remembers me, but I remember him. I don’t think he knows how grateful I was to him that day. Lord only knows what that other man had in mind. I don’t know how I knew I could trust the stranger that I approached but I did and it was the right decision. I continued to make that same trip everyday but with a new security, a new sense of safety followed me back and forth.

Random acts of kindness are rare, but when they happen... they stay with you forever. Thank you kind stranger for what you did for a scared young woman fourteen years ago. I hope that your kindness brought you rich rewards in the future. You are never forgotten and I’m eternally grateful.

The Other Woman

2009-02-20T20:01:00.003-08:00

Original Post Date: October 9th, 2006

"You lose ’em the way you got ’em."

Why is it that every woman in the world knows this old expression and yet many do not heed it’s warning? I keep thinking about this woman that Jeremy is with. She has no idea who I am. Has never laid eyes on me. Never met me. Never spoken to me. But she saw fit to call my house and leave a nasty threatening message. What does she think she knows? I assume he never told her that I was supposed to be coming home when he decided to move her in. And yet, I know she read my letters to him and so she must have seen it and yet... she stayed. Knowing that she was taking someone else’s man. Someone else’s love. Doesn’t that bother her?

I see women everyday, some absolutely beautiful, taking another woman’s man. And thinking that it’s okay to do. Somewhere the man’s wife/girlfriend/fiancé is lying at home in the darkness unaware of her mates whereabouts, knowing that he’s cheating but feeling powerless to stop it. Sometimes leaving the man isn’t really an option. Love is love. It’s without reason or sanity sometimes. But if other women weren’t so ready, willing and eager to "borrow" someone else’s man... these men would have no one to cheat with. We as women are as much to blame for the behavior of men.

Men are dogs. I will not pretend that is not a true statement. But they couldn’t be dogs if women weren’t being tramps. Women, we are selling ourselves short if we think for one second that taking a man from another woman makes us something grand. Now, I’m a fan of the song by the Pussycat Dolls - Doncha, but realistically, taking something or someone that doesn’t belong to you is wrong and eventually it will bite you in the ass. When your looks run out and you have no charm left and your man of the hour has moved onto a younger easier model... you’re gonna be alone and you’re gonna regret it.

As for the women who are not about looks and charm, but manage to steal a man anyway because they’re willing to play games to keep him, those women may not find themselves alone, but they will never know true love. They have him, but they don’t have his heart. Is it worth it? Do we really want to spend our lives with someone who doesn’t really love us? When you keep a man because it’s all about winning and beating out some other woman, what do you really get out of it in the end? You’re a thief. A criminal. What’s to be proud of? You stepped all over a woman you don’t even know and broke her heart just because you could and then to prove what a winner you are you kept him. Well, won’t that make a spiffy epitaph.

GET A CLUE LADIES!!! If he did it to her, he’ll do it to you. Just like you were there when he was bored with her, there will be another woman ready, willing and able to take your place. If he can stomp on someone he’s made a life with over many years, he can do it again. The only way to stop the cheating is for people to stop being willing to be the other woman/man. Let’s face it this isn’t just a woman thing, there are men who get cheated on and dumped by women everyday. It just seems to be that men do more of the cheating, but then again... they can’t cheat if the women weren’t willing. Never forget that the saying is true. You lose ’em the way you get ’em.

Jolene by Dolly Parton

Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, Jolene
I’m begging of you please don’t take my man
Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, Jolene
Please don’t take him just because you can

Your beauty is beyond compare

With flaming locks of Auburn hair

With ivory skin and eyes of emerald green

Your smile is like a breath of spring
Your voice is soft like summer rain
And I cannot compete with you, Jolene

He talks about you in his sleep
There’s nothing I can do to keep
From crying when he calls your name, Jolene

And I can easily understand
How you could easily take my man
But you don’t know what he means to me, Jolene

Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, Jolene
I’m begging of you please don’t take my man
Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, Jolene
Please don’t take him just because you can

You could have your choice of men
But I could never love again
He’s the only one for me, Jolene

I had to have this talk with you
My happiness depends on you
And whatever you decide to do, Jolene

Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, Jolene
I’m begging of you please don’t take my man
Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, Jolene
Please don’t take him even though you can
Jolene, Jolene

Is This My Life?

2009-02-20T20:01:00.001-08:00

Original Post Date: October 2nd, 2006

Ever wonder if you’re on the wrong side of the bowl?

I have this thing lately, where I don’t feel like this is my life. Like I’m suddenly in the shoes of someone else.

One minute, I’m living a life in Corrales, New Mexico. My life is far from perfect, but I have the love of a good man and I know that I will have the security of that love for the rest of my life. The next minute, I’m thrown out of that life and I land here.

One minute, I’m trying to have faith in love. Trying to believe that love conquers all. Finally discovering and understanding my own role in the breakdown of a loving and consistent relationship. Finally knowing that beside him, no matter where that may be, is where I belong. The next minute, I’m cut out of his life like a cancerous growth.

One minute, I’m finally accepting my inability to have a child of my own. Accepting that perhaps I will find a way to make a future that will allow me to adopt a child someday. Accepting that perhaps there will be no children of any kind in my life. The next minute, I’m carrying a child to term totally by accident.

I’m so completely thrown by all the events that have taken place in my life over the last six years. If some fortune teller had revealed these things to me the day before Jeremy left for Mexico... I wouldn’t have believed. I would have laughed that it could never happen. I mean, how could the man I love nearly dying pull us so far apart that we could never get back to where we were? I mean, tragedy is supposed to bring you closer together, not rip you apart. Right? Wrong!

So now here I am drifting about in my daily life, feeling totally disconnected from who I am. I mean how can this be my life? In my heart, I still live in a run down trailer with my man and my two dogs (my babies, Mimi and Greta) and a salamander and countless cats... don’t ask, he was a cat person. It was part of the "far from perfect" aspect. Anyway, in my mind all of that is still there in some way. I can’t seem to wrap my mind around the idea that my babies are dead and buried, that my man is now loving someone else and my home, now stands empty and void of all the love that he and I shared. How can that be possible?

Most of the time everything just seems surreal. I talk to people. I go to work. I go to the store. I watch T.V. or movies. And the whole time, I feel like I’m someone else or rather, seeing it all through someone else’s eyes. I look in the mirror and think... whose face is this? And where is the woman it belongs to? And what of her, is she where I’m supposed to be?

Don’t get me wrong. This life isn’t all shit. There are some great friends. An awesome family. A miracle baby. And a good man who hasn’t once tried to walk away from his responsibilities, despite the fact that we barely know each other. But I’ll be honest, this is not what I had on my Christmas wish list. When I was little and sitting on Santa’s lap, I don’t recall asking him to please bring me a man to dump me, single motherhood and a crappy job. No one asks for this shit. It’s just the hand I was given due to bad choices and terrible disasters.

And yet, these days... I just don’t feel like I belong here. I know that I don’t. Everything feels completely foreign to me. I still don’t feel like I’m having a baby. Sometimes when he kicks, I think... this is so bizarre. Is this really happening? Am I really getting ready to do all those things I dreamed of for so long? That can’t be right. I can’t have children. I accepted that. So what is going on? Whose life is this?

I walk around listening to everything going on around me and think... what are these noises? What is this place? Did I actually come here and walk away from the life that I had without even fighting for it? That can’t be right. Why would someone do such a thing? No one just gives their life away. Do they?

Nothing feels real to me. I’m convinced that at some point I’m going to wake up in my old bed in Corrales, roll over and tell Jeremy the most bizarre dream I just had. He’ll laugh and tell me I’m crazy, like he always does. And I’ll snuggle into his arms and drift back to sleep, knowing that I’m safe with him beside me. But that’s not gonna happen this time. Eventually I’ll get it figured out and maybe start to fit in with the life I’m living now. Eventually, I’ll learn to accept this too, the way I’ve learned to accept a lot of things that didn’t feel right in my life. Right now I’m just living on the wrong side of the bowl.