this is beginning to hurt.
30 March 2003 at 6:30 pm

I just talked to my brother for 56 minutes and some seconds. This is, perhaps, a world record.

I ended it with, �Well, the whole point of this conversation was to let you know that no matter how lonely you are, no matter how bad it gets, it�ll get better, and I�ll always be there for you, in an instant, not just as a sister, but as a friend.�

He ended it with, �Welp, I love you lots and�.yeah. Have a good night.�

We never say that we love each other. So that was nice.

�and that was last night. tonight, I�m eating cocoa puffs and listening to a band I once heard in santa barbara and getting ready to watch the rest of suburbia (not the one with giovanni ribisi). Aaron and I had dedicated today to mini golf (calling it putt putt is just a little too poufy, even for a girl), but by the time we found a place and driven the 25 minutes to get to fucking tukwila, I was pissy and the place was a scary casino and it was indoors, for fuck�s sake. We gave up and went to shorty�s downtown to play pinball and eat hotdogs.

Except we both suck at pinball (yes, it is possible) so we went across the street to singles going steady. That�s when esp called me and we chatted about suzy some and how when she gets back from the phillipines we�re going to go roller skating in her honor.

Anyway. My conversation with sarah a few nights ago is bugging me because I feel like neither of us Get It anymore. She was annoying me with thoughts you only have a in college (there�s a time and a place for everything � even eating food out of a dumpster for no fucking reason at all � and it�s called college), I was annoying her with apathy.

I don�t care about nothing. I just care about the wrong things.

I�m sitting here, on a fucking Saturday night, listening to the mighty mouse theme song, my hair mussed up from sex of yesterhour, my clothes reeking of chinese takeout and cigarette smoke, totally and completely along trying to balance my checkbook. I�m annoyed because Joanna didn�t pay last month�s internet bill. I�m disappointed in myself because I drank a good portion of a bottle of white wine � the first I�ve had to drink since aaron and I broke up.

This is what I wrote about suzy:

//there�s a very cute girl sitting tow booths ahead of me and I wish I were her because she is crying and I am not. I want to. I want so badly to let the tears fall, to let the emotion out, but I cannot because she is not really dead. I am not sitting in a diner, drinking shitty coffee, smoking camel lights, reading her favorite, her most relevant book, wishing I were breaking down in a public place. I am not doing any of these thigns because I wouldn�t be if she weren�t really dead.

But she is. And I am.

And I am envious of the girl who can cry and I am envrious of the girl who will never cry again.

But, just as she won�t cry, she won�t laugh, she won�t love, she won�t take spontaneous trips to Las Vegas and Atlanta, she wont� call me when I break up with my boyfriend to laugh about the silliness of depression.

�Morgan! It sucks!�

I know, honey, like I knew that somehow, sometime, it would be worht it, that if life is still with me when I escape from the nightmares in my head to the nightmares in reality there there must be something better. There must be a book I haven�t read, a song I haven�t heard, a conversation I haven�t had.//

Blah blah, the rest was bullshit.

And then I wrote:

//if I can find just the right distraction, I can get away with anything. We all have our closets, honey, our personal prisons, and maybe we don�t have the key � maybe someone else is keeping it safe just until our breaking point, or maybe you�re hiding it from yourself until you really need it . I wish you had held on just a little longer. Maybe you would have found the key.

Maybe you did.//

And then I wrote:

//it�s just like everyone is disappoointed in me for one reason of another � bad friends, bad choices, bad everything � and aaron isn�t and these bad friends of mine might not really care about me or my wellbeing but the don�t judge me. While I love and appreciate the friends who do, I really just need to be enough for myself and, at this point, a good way to do that is to be around people who don�t care about me so I�m forced ot care about myself.

Hey, maybe I do have it all figured out.//

This is all very redundant. I don�t know why I�m still typing.

Should I feel badly that esp wakes up in the morning and reminds herself the suzy is dead? No, because I feel bad enough with these fucking nightmares I�ve been having. Last night, I was stuck in a parking garage (in my dream) with, like, six other people and there was no way to get out�the elevators would only go up, the stairs that got us to where we were disappeared. There was a parking attendent, but she was just there. She couldn�t help. It was like we were some kind of experiment�and it felt like the world outside of the parking garage was gone and all that was left was us. It was fucking creepy and I opened my eyes and said, �oh my god.� That woke aaron up and then I started crying and kept trying to leave but he wouldn�t let me.

I think the dream has to do with my life � I keep getting myself into situations, keep making these decisions, and I can�t go back to the way it was. But, fuck, that�s life. And I�d rather have some stories to tell than have never known.

I�m thinking of that part in Pretty in Pink when Molly Ringwald suggests that perhaps Jon Cryer is avoiding the future by failing all his classes and Duckie says, �Well, whether or not you avoid it, the future happens.� Or something to that effect, trying to ignore her point. But it think it�s appropriate right now�I had this thought all formulated in my head, and I can�t explain it in words, which is always frustrating since it appears that that�s the one thing I�m really good at.

Well, I give a pretty mean blow job. Nerk.

Maybe the quote was, �Whether you plan for it or not, the future happens.� Which isn�t true. The future is not a definite�all we have is the now. Even the past is a distorted memory. And right now, it feels nice to be with Aaron. And it doesn�t make me happy to be around certain people, it just frustrates me because we�re on way different wavelengths.

When Michelle called me when I was in san francisco crying because she felt like a slut, we talked about how it�s ok to go through phases, to make mistakes, this time period is about learning who we are and what lifestyle we like and don�t like. And how hard it is to be around someone like joanna, not just because she�s boring as hell (haha, kidding), but because she has it All Figured Out. She Knows Who She Is And What She Wants.

Well, I don�t. So fuck people like that for judging me, because it�s ok. I�m looking for things that make me smile at that moment. At this moment, it makes me smile to think about moving to san francisco. It makes me smile to think that in 5 hours I�ll be waking up in aaron�s arms. It makes me smile to talk to people who don�t say, no, you�re wrong, you�re bad, you�re apathetic, you�re being stupid. I�m not telling those people to change; I�m asking them to understand when I don�t talk to them right now. You can�t relate to what I�m going through. So fuck off.

Another thing sarah said is that I can�t keep up and leaving, people get dependent on me, you can�t just leave people like this. I�m not leaving things, I�m not running away; I�m running to new things and people and places and it�d be stupid of me to stay somewhere I�m not happy just for the people.

My life is one big contradiction right now, and if you don�t want to deal with it, that�s fine. It�s ok! But I have to deal with it, because it�s my life, and I�m not going to pretend for anyone anymore.

Because that�s what killed suzy.

Christ.

What is it about certain songs that just bring tears to your eyes? Fuck you, weezer.

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About me
Hi. Morgan, 27, of Santa Barbara, CA. I am a hypocritical admirer of rhetoric (when it is my own) and an observer of literary trends. A secret: I don't take anything very seriously, and that includes myself.