if i am lost it's only for a little while...

I drank so much coffee in the month of March. Started my day out with a coffee, sitting next to my grandmother’s bedside. Went through the day sipping on coffee. Slowly pumping more caffeine through my veins, coca cola, coffee, whatever I could get. It was almost like a coping mechanism… I could get through the next few hours if I just had a bit more coffee. Roll up the rim didn’t help. 

I think that now I associate the taste of coffee with those long days in the villa, with low light and HGTV or Food network on in the background. Sitting next to my grama watching her go in and out of consciousness. Holding my breath when she held hers and hoping that this time wasn’t the last breath she took. 

I wanted her to go while I was there, next to her, holding her hand and telling her that everything was going to be okay. That didn’t happen. I think maybe that was her favour to me. 

I have had one coffee since she passed, and it was a very small decaf. I can’t bring myself to drink coffee anymore. 

I had an amazing weekend. It was fantastic. One of the best weekends that I’ve had all year, and that’s saying a lot because my weekends have been mostly fantastic since Tyler entered my life. 

It feels good to have someone to love, and take care of, who loves you back and wants to take care of you. 

This weekend was great. 20 minute exam on friday (that I got a 95% on!) followed by a few hours at work, which means I might get some money soon, and then cuddles with Tyler and sleeping in until a very late ten am on Saturday. Saturday was pretty close to perfection, sleeping in, breakfast together, shopping, and relaxing at home time. I can do nothing with Tyler and be perfectly content. 

Sunday was dinner at his Mother’s house, and Monday was dinner at my Auntie’s house. It is actually pretty awesome to have someone to take to family functions. To have a plus one on my side, to have someone to sit next to so that couch isn’t so lonely since every one else in my family is paired up. 

I’m so happy, but it’s scary to be happy, because every time things start to go well, things start to go terribly too. I’m trying to stay positive, but it’s so hard when you finally get what you want and you’re worried it’s going to slip through your fingers. 

I need to write more. Not this though. This is scary and depressing. 

It’s not something that I want to do. Not something that I’m looking forward to. Not something that I’d ever imagined that I had to do. But it’s becoming necessary. 

I thought my mom coming back into my life a month ago would mean things were different. I thought that there could be a separation between what happened in 2011 and a new mother/daughter relationship we could build on. This is not the case. I will never live up to her expectations. I will never be able to read her mind and I will never be able to say the things she wants to hear or do the things she wants me to do. 

I think I’m finally okay with that. I’ll be okay with that if it means that I don’t have to listen to her belittle me, if I don’t have to listen to her tell me I’m not living up to what she wants me to be. I will be okay with this if it means that I never need to read an email telling me that I’m ignorant and she’s embarrassed for me. I have not done anything wrong and I will not continue to let myself be harassed and made to feel like my value as a human being is less than it is. 

Today, I am done. Today I am letting go of my mother. I won’t sit here hoping for a civil relationship, or that she’ll tell me she loves me one last time. I won’t tell myself that this is “just the way she is, she needs help” when she is the one who won’t go and make things better. I won’t sit here hoping that she decides that I am the daughter that she wants. 

That’s enough. Today is the day that I let go of my mother. 

I need to write more. 

I feel untapped, like there is so much more that I could be doing but that I’m just not stepping up and getting it done. 

It’s like when I have so many balls to juggle I just say fuck it and sleep. 

I dont want to be that person, I want things to be different and it seems like for every step forward I take there’s two steps back. Like when I’m secure in something, when I finally start to feel safe, I start to think about what if’s and all of a sudden I’m freaking out and finding the worst possible scenario. 

I don’t even know what I’m saying. I just know that I miss the keys smacking under my fingers and I need to figure out what I’m going to do. 

He makes me happy. It’s only been three weeks but it’s been a great three weeks, and I can’t wait for what the future holds for us. 

Everything else in my life could be a mess right now and I wouldn’t care, because having someone - him, to wake up to in the morning just makes every damn thing amazing. 

Love is a great feeling. 

I guess being someone of the Alanis Morissette generation, I’m not 100% clear on the definition of irony. 

But I think this might fit the description: 

The reason I no longer speak to my mother was because she wanted me to buy a house and that was not something that I was ready to do. She controlled me for years trying to get me on the right track to buy a house. I was defiant and not ready and uncompromising. 

Here’s where the irony kicks in. Right now, the idea of owning my own house is probably one of my biggest dreams (after having a career and not a job) and it’s probably the most unobtainable thing for me for the next 5-10 years. 

I give myself stomach aches. 

I really feel like my twenties are a fucking joke. 

I just turned 26, and I’m underemployed, undereducated, underloved and underwhelmed. 

This was supposed to be the decade of finding myself, of growing into the person I want to become. Of learning from my mother’s mistakes, and my father’s mistakes, and getting out of the lower class life that I grew up in. 

I’m so disenfranchised and disenchanted. 

I hate the sad days. 

Hearing your ex say that you’re hotter than the girl he left you for is such an awesome feeling. They can suck it together, I’ve moved on and am not looking back. 

I want you to know
When I look in your eyes
With every blow
Comes another lie

You think its alright
You think its alright
You think its alright
You think its alright

Can’t you feel the knife?
Can’t you feel the knife?
Can’t you feel the knife?
Can’t you feel the knife?

-Grizzly Bear

I need to start writing again. Maybe I’ll do that on a week where I haven’t worked 77 hours in six days… 

I miss writing.