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2003-05-05 - 2:48 a.m.

'if the "toxic avenger" can find love, why can't i?'

It feels like the apocalypse has come. The day was so still. And warm. Somehow it felt like I was the only person left alive. All I heard all day was the spray of sprinklers outside my window and the echo of my sister's voice in my head.

And Penny's probably mad at me, because I didn't go to her show. And I'm not sorry, though I'll probably tell her I am. The truth is that I just did not want to. And I'm probably in that weird stubborn place, because what has she done for me lately? And a huge part of me is glad for the fact that she's probably mad at me. It means I won't have to talk to her today. Or anybody for that matter. It means I won't have to feel guilty that I have no plans to get dressed. Or to do anything constructive. Or even leave my apartment. Just like yesterday. Just like tomorrow.

I was thinking last night before I finally fell asleep that for the rest of my life I'll be haunted by two images. The first is of my mom in those last moments. While the other is of JD hovering above me like some terrible, unpredictable monster. Both images just are. They're both locked inside me. They're both inescapable. But I try not to think of them much. When one comes lurking in, I shake my head. Try to clear it out somehow. Usually that means falling asleep with music on or with the thickness of some over-the-counter drug fogging up the glass in my head. On all sides. I visualize the way words look. I type them into the air. I try to feel them oozing over and over in my head. I spell them out. Usually this helps me. It helps me not to see the picture.

I'd done this for hours last night before finally falling asleep. Then my sister calls and tells me she's having flashbacks. She's seeing the pictures that I'm fogging over. That I'm fighting the good, hard fight against. And sometimes it scares me how much our minds work alike. Sometimes it scares me how much I know that neither one of us will ever be the same again. How much we'll never be truly ok. And how much I wish more than anything that she could be.

These past couple of days I've been living with unshed tears in my eyes. Like it's only a matter of time before something breaks. And I'm a mess of sobs and uncontrollable waterworks. I know what it is. I know that it's just the weather playing it's evil little games. The days lining up to play their tricks on me. Because it's nearly summer. It's nearly mother's day. And my mom's not alive.

I drove around last night for hours warding off a panic attack. And as I pulled back into my parking place I couldn't help but think how nice it would be to open my front door and have someone be inside. How nice it would be to come home and no longer be alone. And maybe that's one of the reasons I'm leaving here. Maybe that's what I'm running away from. But then I think maybe it isn't running away if it saves your life. Maybe it's not running away if you're running towards something good. Something like happiness.

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all written material � jordorange 2003-2004

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