A place for my thoughts and ideas, my creative outlet, a little piece of the web for me to call my own...yeah...right...
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| a bite of chocolat... ::home:: A place for my thoughts and ideas, my creative outlet, a little piece of the web for me to call my own...yeah...right... |
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Thursday, December 11, 2003 I've never really thought about myself as an emotional mess untill last weekend... I would have written sooner, but I haven't had time... which is actually pretty ironic, come to think... You'll understand what I mean by that by the end of this... Last Saturday, after classes, I took my friend Claire to West Campus to show her my dorm. Tiffany, my neighbor, came in to ask me to fix the dvd player yet again, She and Annie wanted to watch Father of the Bride. I mentioned I'd never seen it before, to their great astonishment, and they declared that I must sit down and watch it. Okay, I'm always up for a movie. Father of the Bride ruined my weekend... but I didn't realize that until much later... After the movie, Claire and I went to dinner, and back to her room to get ready to go see some unknown band... The band didn't show cause of the snowstorm, so kareoke was set up... We watched that for a while, then went back to her room to chill for a while. We talked on the usual girly conversation topics, life and love, and needs and wants, and shopping... I left her room almost in tears, no fault of hers, but I couldn't figure out why I was so unstable... I got back to my room, shrugged it off, went online to talk to some friends. Maybe they could lift my spirits... Alas, I got into a fight... A friend was voicing his concern that I work myself into the ground and never spare any free time for myself. And he's right, but he went about the discussion wrong, and left me feeling even more worthless than I already was... So as I lay in my bed thinking about what had made me so fragile, I came the the conclusion that it all started after that movie. Now what about a happy little movie about a girl traveling in Rome, meeting some amazing guy, and deciding to get married could make anyone miserable. Well, I don't know. Something about the entire movie struck me as so sickeningly fake... Who meets some wonderful, random guy and marries at 22? Who has an extravagant, beautiful, magazine cut out wedding done by a professional coordinator? Who's parents sit at a dinner table and talk to eachother about happy, mundane little things? Who's parents are so twined together that one little argument is something so unfamiliar that they almost cannot handle it? Who's parents are that happy??? Maybe there are people like that somewhere. I sure as hell haven't met them. I think I can count the seemingly happily married families I know one one hand. I don't think I could count all the divorces, deaths, affairs, and suicides. It also doesn't help much when you watch your mother grow sadder everyday living a life she despises. When you can't listen to a song that warns not to let life pass you by because you fear she'll burst into tears or kill herself or something, because she's commented about how life has passed her by. When you and your aunts are her only friends in the world. When she works all the time to keep up the household because her other daughter's selfish and ungreatful. When she tells you she hates him. She doesn't really; she's only angry. But saying it's enough. Should I not find it strange to see happy people? Should holidays depress me? Should upbeat music make me physically sick? I fear my life will disappoint me. And I have very little faith in love. I want so much to believe... posted by Shannon | 10:14 AM |
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