February 20, 2002
Carrot Sadness
Let's take a peek at Jill in the kitchen.
Kitchen is a funny looking word, isn't it?
Anyway.
...Jill opens mother's fantastic cabinet of things she shouldn't be eating. Is searching in vain for the thin mints. Those bastard girl scouts and their cookies. Spots Frito's, reaches, and subsequently withdraws hand. Moves to refrigerator. Begins to talk to herself.
"We're having carrots. Carrots and ranch dressing. Because it's good for us, bitch, and we like it."
I could be diagnosed with any number of mental diseases, I really think I could.
But these carrots aren't bad.
It was so crazy weird last night. I was talking to my friend Bill online (don't let the name mislead you, Bill is actually a sixteen year old girl named Michelle), and she mentioned that she had talked to Ryan. And immediately I asked what he had said, while at the same time realizing that for the first time in over a year, it wasn't really entirely my business. Because he wasn't mine anymore, and he could say whatever he wanted and I couldn't do anything about it. Tears sprang to my eyes for the first time. It is strange to think I won't have his laughter all to myself, the special laughter for nighttime and car rides and tickling. And I thought, I miss it, but that does not mean I want it back. I am sad that it is gone.
But what we had wasn't good anymore, and me being sad that it is gone is not going to make it any better.
I cried a little when I went to bed. I let myself cry just a little.
You know, I think I probably shouldn't eat carrots and ranch dressing while typing. I just got some on the keyboard.
astera at 2:56 p.m.