Well I made it over a year without writing anything. i remember when i used to write daily, sometimes multiple times per day. why did i stop journalling? in some crazy way i think i associate writing with being sick.
but i am sick. i am sick for home. i know i know i just got married, i should still be in my newlywed phase having sex all the time and loving it, right? is that how it is supposed to be? instead i get upset because i don't feel like i really have a home anywhere. i feel like i am playing house in this apartment and i feel like my parents have erased me from their home, and maybe i feel a little like they have erased me from their lives. i know you have to grow up eventually and i really really love clay more than anything. so what i am saying? maybe thats not enough. i am happier than i have been maybe ever. doesn't say much for me, does it? but i have to either break that bond with my parents or establish some kind of new relationship where i don't misss them so much. i lived in columbus for 3 years and except for the last one i was fine with it. but i was selfish and drunk the other two. i guess when i started to realize that they are actually good parents and i appreciated them that is when the trouble started. is it guilt maybe for how i behaved from 10 to 22? i've tried to explain that but they don't know that what i am looking for is sincere forgiveness, the kind that wipes the slate clean. and i can't tell them thats what i want because then it isnt the same. herer:
Well I'm New York City born and raised
But nowadays, I'm lost between two shores
L.A.'s fine, but it ain't home
New York's home, but it ain't mine no more
you know i do feel a bit better. maybe i found the source, or maybe this is just still cathartic for me. i guess i should keep it up...
posted by kate 8:21 AM