Turning the page...

I bought a new journal. I'm psyched. I've got a handful of pages left in the Pink Journal to write the rest of what I have to say about the summer, and then I must symbolically move on. CLOSE THE BOOK, you might say. Get him fucking out of my head, I might say.

I take these transitions very seriously.

The Tiny Notebooks were my travel diaries, and also "oh yeah THAT happened" when R happened, because honestly, who expected that??
The Giant Notebook was A + the shenanigans of senior year or so; the last page was written my last night in the old apartment.
The first page of the Pink Journal was my first night in this apartment (May). And then the rest of it, well, you can figure it out.

So what will the new one hold?? I had noooo idea when I started the pink journal that I would have something to fill it so quickly. And here I am already starting a new chapter.

*death by cheesy metaphor*

:-D

Bathroom mirror

She stares herself down. Cheeks flushed from drinking. Hair loosely pulled back, tendrils curling behind her ears. T-shirt clinging in all the right places. Lips full and fresh and not pointed upward. Eyes so beautiful but so, so sad. "I'm so pretty," she thinks. "Shouldn't there be someone to appreciate it?"

She'd given up on her first love out of a vague feeling of it not being "right." She had yet to stop feeling regret for her choice. How vain is it to decide another person's life without even providing a reason?

She acknowledges that she is probably overreacting. The relationship hadn't even lasted the summer; how could it be a Big Deal? It's sad when a 3-year relationship ends, but 3 months? It's not supposed to be the end of the world.

She blinks, the thick outlines of her eyes jumping back into place. She hadn't meant to fall in love until it was right - the person she would spend the rest of her life with. What can she trust if her own judgment will so quickly fail her?

She bites her lip, hand on the doorknob. One last searching gaze yields no further answers.

Different

Different.

I'd done it before, but with him it was different.

I didn't realize how different.

It wasn't just that it was way better (although that was much appreciated),

It...it was everything they ever tell you

All that stuff about two becoming one. About giving the person a piece of you. About being tied to the person forever. The flings weren't like that.

But this was different.

Different.

And I can't shake it.

My body yearns for it. I'm pulled like a magnet. I've never wanted something so badly.

I know I can't. I'm a smart girl.

But it's a hole I can't fill. (And not in the dirty, literal sense, because that one CAN be filled, and I don't think it would HELP. What I'm feeling is not as simple as being horny.)

Every inch of me screams out for it.

Different.

Lesson learned: this is why you're supposed to wait.

All riled up

There are certain things about Southern Baptist dogma--not about God, but just some applications--that I do not believe in. The two easiest examples: Abortion=killing babies and should be outlawed. Homosexuality=a sinful choice. Usually it's just Pat Robertson, for example, going off on that stuff, which is easy for me to ignore; when I do occasionally encounter it in my daily life, it really upsets me. I can't reconcile my beliefs about a loving God with conservative condemnation.

In Sunday School today there was some ranting (yelling, honestly) about the evils of abortion. The lesson was about moral relativism. I wanted to say, "you know what, I don't think anyone is relativistic when it comes to abortion. to ME, having the option is RIGHT, and denying it is WRONG, actually." but I mean of course I couldn't say that. and the teacher was, of course, dismissing any sort of argument as folly. I realize that when it comes to abortion most everyone is either firmly one way or firmly the other, and it's a difficult conversation to have, but it deeply bothers me to be yelled at along the lines of, "people are going to different countries to adopt babies, and we're murdering them here!"

1. You're a MAN, and as such could never be in a situation where you have to make that decision. Fuck off.
2. How do you know none of the women in the room have had an abortion? The statistics are very, very high. even if you consider abortion evil, which is your prerogative, you shouldn't go around making well-meaning women who made a mistake feel like shit. everyone fucking makes mistakes.

Sure, of course, a woman could carry the baby to term and give it up for adoption. All sorts of couples want to adopt brand-new babies and leave those older kids in foster care. but what if she doesn't want to go through A) the physical stress and B) the social stress*? oh, you say, it serves her right, it's what she gets for having sex. WELL, WHAT DOES THE MAN GET FOR HAVING SEX? ZERO CONSEQUENCES. ZERO FUCKING CONSEQUENCES, for being [at least!] equally guilty. So why should the woman have to suffer?

(*I mean, the woman who gives the child up for adoption would probably be alienated from, say, church. You wouldn't fucking praise her for being brave and carrying the child--you would fucking judge her for having sex outside of marriage.)

and I would think this is too obvious to even mention, but if you DID outlaw abortion, you wouldn't get rid of the motivation. Women would get them illegally and dangerously, and then not only would embryos be dying left and right, but so would women.

augh

it just really, really hurts me when things get...well...Baptist in a conversation about morality. if he had started to talk about homosexuality, as I was afraid he would, I would have HAD to have said something. Which then would have alienated ME from my new Sunday School class. Nice going, Sunday School teacher!

I love church. and I loved the rest of the lesson. I just can't handle being yelled at about the evil-ness of something that I 100% believe should be available, without there being an option for rational discussion. I mean, there's Sanctity of Human Life Sunday every year, and I've never been offended by the sermons. I always expect that I will be, but the pastor handles the topic very respectfully.

(Choose your own conclusion!)

Graceful ending:
There's a difference between valuing life and condemning sinners.

Bitter ending:
There's a difference between valuing life and condemning sinners--ahem--FELLOW sinners. Don't fucking think you're any better. All sins are equal in God's eyes, you'd know that if you read the Bible you beat people with.

If you made a mistake, wouldn't you do whatever you could to get your life back on track?

Trifling

I grew up on Disney movies, and came of age with musicals.* Do you have any idea how much it kills me to learn that it's possible that love isn't enough? That love won't conquer all, that being in love doesn't cause a "happily ever after," that two people can love each other very much and still not be right together?

love is like oxygen, love is a many-splendored thing, love lifts us up where we belong, all you need is love!
-please, don't start that again.

*yeah Moulin Rouge more than anything to be honest, but a little Broadway romance here and there.

second person is an awkward way to write

I've been thinking a lot about first kisses.

Soft and timid. Slow to occur because you're not sure if you're being too forward. A kiss goodnight as you go your separate ways a few hours after meeting.

Hard and certain. I-want-you-now, this-is-right, oh-my-god-we're-at-a-park-and-there-are-a-bazillion-people-around-and-I-don't-even-care. A kiss you don't forget about. A kiss you don't want to end.

Nervous but excited, leaned up against your friend's car. A kiss you didn't see coming. A kiss you wouldn't mind continuing but your friend's right there and waiting for you, for goodness' sake.

Meaningless as the clock strikes midnight. He'd been flirting but is on his phone when the year rings in, so you take charge for once.

(Others before that? Drunk and delirious. No specific memories.)

Hesitant with your new best friend. You're conjoined at the phone but there's more pressure in person. Does he not know you're crazy about him? You slowly convince him of your feelings as soft kisses build momentum.

So forced on your bedroom floor. A cruel experiment, leaving two lonely geeks alone together. You've never done this before and you're thrilled, somehow unaware that you're playing with matches. You're burning away all your fairytale dreams one nervous giggle at a time.

don't you bring me down today