the words get in the way
March 29, 2004 � 2:21 a.m.

First Entry Today

Today�s Weather: Depressed with a hangover haze

Last night was a blast.

That�s a lie.

Last night started out a blast, but ended on a fucked up note.

I drink too much now. I�ve always been a drinker, but I am drinking too much while I�m out with Leenie and them. I drink and drink and drink�and I come out of myself�and I feel happy. I drink and drink and drink�to forget for awhile�forget him, forget life, forget me. I drink and I wake up not knowing who I am or where I am or what happened�feeling like a stranger in my own life�lonelier and sadder than I was before I ventured out and lifted that first glass to my lips to sip the nectar that will soothe me�.calm me�fog my mind. I drink to forget him, and it works for awhile�but then I get home and remember him all too well.

I laid there last night, so drunk I could barely move�so drunk I that the room was spinning and I felt like I was under water�like my lungs were filling with fluid and death was sitting on my chest with it�s hands clasped around my throat. I was that drunk. So drunk that I managed to find the strength to pick up my phone and say his name into it. So drunk that I listened to it ring with my heart pounding. So drunk that as soon as I heard his voice I started to cry. So drunk that I left a massage so stupid that I can�t even remember it. So drunk that after a few minutes, I called again and hung up as soon as the message started. So drunk that I curled up into a ball and hugged my pillow next to me�murmuring words of love to it�too weak and tired to even cry out the sadness inside. So drunk that I didn�t fall asleep at all�I blacked out�waking up a few hours later still drunk and scared shitless when I didn�t even know where the hell I was or how I�d gotten there because my eyes and head were too heavy to open and look around.

All this over love. All this because I love him. All this because he doesn�t love me.

Is this really what love is supposed to be like?

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When I finally drag my ass out of bed, I go get my baby and trek on down to see the Queen. Older�she looked older. And smaller�she looked so much smaller. And tired�she looked so tired. I saw her and my breath caught in my throat. She smiled and I was amazed. Even like that she was beautiful�radiant even�this small woman that used to be bigger than life to me, brighter than the sun to me�even though she was now dimmed to the brightness of a shooting star, she was the most beautiful woman still.

Is this really what growing up is supposed to be like?

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My baby talked a blue streak on the way down there, surprising me with the articulate way he expressed his thoughts with his lisped tongue. He sat there and talked�and talked�and talked�and it dawned on me that he isn�t my innocent little boy anymore. The world has changed him. He is getting older. He is growing up. Soon he won�t rush to me and give me hugs and kisses. Soon he won�t want to curl up next to me and fall asleep with his arms wrapped my waist. Soon, I love you won�t tumble from his lips as easily. I looked at him and then held him close�listening to his heart pound in his chest�and I was inexplicably saddened by the notion that one day he would go away from me, no longer so attached to me, no longer my baby.

I closed my eyes and held him tight�regrettably letting him go when he pulled away first.

Is this really what being a mother is supposed to be like?

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Now I am sitting here alone at two in the morning, listening to Deadwood to go off as I tap away on my keyboard and huff on my ciggy, trying hard not to down a glass of rum so I can just go to sleep. Sitting here alone�dreading turning off the TV and the lights�afraid of the silence that will keep me from falling asleep. I used to crave silence and now I fear it, because the silence is no longer really silent�it is filled with my thoughts and dashed hopes and failed dreams and it�s getting harder to stand it all. I reach out in the darkness of my room for someone but no one is there. Words tumble around in my head and I want to speak them all just to get them out, but there is no one there to listen, so they stay there�tumbling and rumbling and flipping all around�taunting and haunting and belittling me. I try to live my life peacefully, but the words get in the way and peace remains an illusion�except for when I drink. I drink and drink and drink and I find temporary peace�and I lose a part of myself forever. I drink and I drink and I drink�and nothing ever changes�and I never learn my lesson. I sell my soul to the drink just so I don�t have to think. Every second I am getting older and this life is fleeting me and instead of getting stronger and wiser I am becoming dumber and weaker, creating the same traps for myself�and falling into them every single time. I just want to live my life my way. I just want to find a love of my own. I just want to find solace in the silence again.

I just want to get the words out of my way.

Is this really want life is supposed to be like?