Rendezvous
01 February 06 : 01.32 PM
Dear God (and by God, I mean a Holy Entity, a deity, for convenience's sake, and not in the Christian sense because that would not only make me guilty of blasphemy, it would make this deity I am writing to, male):
I was surprised to find that I didn't wake up with puffy eyes, but I was expecting it too much for me to wake up for school.
I spent Monday night with Lawrence and Sean. We sat out on my lawn having Lunar New Year cookies and kitkat bars and coke with ice that already melted. We played cards and listened to Radiohead and talked till 3am. It's times like this that I'm not as fatalistic as I usually am, and for a second, believe that You actually like me enough.
Jarrett's going back to Australia early because of me, or so he says. That I've been selfish and mean and inconsiderate, but what's new? I haven't had any comment made about me recently that would disprove that. I know how these words are said, and why, yet I'm blaming it on a bad break up. People get over bad break ups, dammit, people live.
I had the affections of two very amazing guys. One, who reads Milan Kundera and writes amazingly, takes me on long drives and lets me listen to beautiful music, the other, plays for me the guitar while looking at me with intent eyes, and a smile to die for. But both are leaving, and I can't say I'm not to be blamed, but neither do I want it any other way. You brought to me the guy I loved last year even though I wasn't wishing for him, and then You took him away and in his place, tried to fit two guys that are larger than life. I'm only but a little girl, I can't hold my place that way.
I want to be able to spend time on my own, with Leonard Cohen and Tori Amos' words. I want my rose quartz to mean something again, a proof of my belief in the spiritual. I want to believe in the energy that Christians call prayer, Wiccans call Magick and Taoists call Chi. I want to start studying the way I should. I want to write the way I did before, always, always, with a pen in my hand and a notebook of words. I want to be sad, but only if I have something that can make me equally happy. I want to feel for people, I want to love humanity. I want to watch the sky and feel overwhelmed by nature and her grandeur. I want to be in love with the world again.
Anyway, God, you've been quite a pal I guess. Sometimes, You leave me alone when I'm crying and weak, and I could never understand that footprints in the sand story because I have never felt that strength before. Let me count the stars in the sky, I'm going on a hiatus to find You, to find my stand and maybe, something that can make me feel whole again.
Thanks for your time, God, even though I doubt You'll be online anytime soon reading this. I'm hoping You really are omniscient and know, that I'm here, working towards being grateful. (Even though I think You dislike me most of the time)
I want to be in love with everything. I want to be in love with cocoa and bubbles and orange smoothies and caramel and rainbows and sparkles and beat-up cars and elevator music and dried flowers and, I want to be in love with the world.
I want to be in love with the world again, the world You created (and it really is quite a wonderful thing), then I can love myself. Maybe then, I can love another.
PS. Thanks for Mason.
Love,
Vicki