The Diary of Queen Mothy |
Lost written @ 4:32 PM on June 19, 2003 Tuesday night I had no intensions of writing an entry on anything because it seemed for a little while that life was progressing unusually slow. But then, as funny as life will be, I had something to write about. Now that it's Thursday and I've had a few days to think about what happened, or what stands to happen, I'm much calmer. I can think rationally... or as rational as you can get in this situation. I still don't have much of an opinion-- or I don't care to discern it here because we'd all be treading on worn ground-- so you won't be reading any passionate fits of rage or sadness because the time for all such emotions is long passed. Without drawing out this exposition any longer, I will tell what happened. Because as far as confessing anything goes, this diary is all I have. My parents are separating within the next few weeks. Not divorcing, mind you. Not yet, anyway. To explain things as simply as possible, Dad has finally realized the person he has become. He has realized how dark his self has become, how much he's changed, and how far he's strayed from his intended path-- basically, everything I had been trying to tell him for three years now. He's moving out to some apartment (I really did not care to find out where exactly), and he's taking everything he owns, plus the family room furniture, with him. By moving out, he hopes to find himself. And when he does, he says he's going to fix things with Mom, and that everything will go back to what it once was. When he told me these things, he cried. The only time I have ever seen him cry so much was at Grandma's funeral. When he told me these things, I felt like a great burden had been lifted from my shoulders; truly, I could do nothing more. By him making that decision, his life is fully his responsibility. Even so, to my ears he sounded a little foolish, too. Because I know nothing could ever be the way it once was. He could never be the man he once was. He could be better, perhaps. But to be just as I remember him and want him? Never. Apparently, Mom had known of his decision since this weekend, which explains why she was so upset. She strongly disapproves of his decision. Without getting into too many details, she thinks he'll be taking too great a gamble with both money and his family. She admitted to me last night that once he walks out of the house, he fully betrays her and breaks whatever trust they once had, and that she'll only take him back if he's crawling on his knees. Those were her words. He can't simply go to therapy, she says, he has to go to the extreme. For, you see, Mom has her own decisions to make. She will give Dad this one chance, but she's not going to be his mother. I asked her if Dad does not change, where would she go? As I've suspected all along, the reason why my grandmother kept my great-grandparents' house after they died was to provide for my mother if she should ever divorce my dad. After my brother graduates from high school and enters the military-- as he seems to plan to do-- she intends to go back to Central Falls, Rhode Island. Or, she added, go to Hilton Head, where she has friends. She asked me if I would ever transfer from school. No, I said. I will not leave Cincinnati until my schooling is finished and my career begun. I will not uproot myself for the third time in my life because of my parents. I will not remake and remodel my life again. I will not sit by myself at lunch ever again, like I've had to do four times. My brother? He doesn't shed a tear. Mom told me that he once said to her, "If it bugs you so much, just do what I do and ignore it." Ignore it. Can you imagine? "It's just like in the movies," he said to me. "It doesn't surprise me at all." As for me, even though it's been two days since that night, I don't exactly know where to begin when it comes to explaining how I feel. If my psychic friends sensed something wrong, they never called me. And I thank them for that-- because I don't know where the conversation would have led to. All I know is that my mother made me promise that I would not worry about anything anymore and that I would not lose sleep over it. But you know what? For the past two nights I've cried myself to sleep. The first night was just emotional shock and internal ruin as I tried to sort out and reason and try to understand what Dolan and my grandparents were trying to tell me. Last night was because I was dreaming of what my cousin's wedding in Pittsburgh will be like next week when my family is parading around as a lie. I said to Dolan, "We have lost so much, Dolan. We have strayed so far from where we've come. I would only love that everything should go back to how it once was, how it was before we move to Ohio, but I of all people-- I who have known so many lives and have the oldest soul out of all my family-- know how foolish that sounds." I was met only by silence. The clock downstairs struck midnight, then one o'clock, then two o'clock. The house was so dead. Dolan had to remind me of the promise I made my mom not to lose sleep over this. You see, I am so sad because I am inclined to believe my mother and that Dad will walk out the door and never come back. He promised me that would not happen, that he would try to fix things, but on one hand I think of my mother and I wonder how he can fix things when he's not even here. On the other hand, the burden has been lifted from my shoulders and I have been infused with hope because this is our one chance, our last chance, to fix this family's problems. And I think-- I hope-- this will work. I said to Dolan, "The worst day of my life will be when I have to go into my genealogy database and scroll down to where it says 'divorce' next to my parents' names. And then click 'save'." But you know what else though? If this is the worst thing that ever happens to me in my life, I'll say on my deathbed how very goddamned lucky I was that this didn't end uglier. In any case, I don't really know what to think right now. I've carried on this entry longer than what I planned to. I had only intended to say, "This is it." The only thing I can say for sure is that my heart has been broken, but I'm still hopeful and I'm going to carry on-- with or without my family. I know it hurts me now. But when I emerge from this torture chamber, there is only going to be a scratch on me. Life goes on and time heals. Yesterday, after my set designs were approved by the director of "In Flame," Dolan whispered in my ear, "I told you so." How my parents choose to live their lives from here on out is not my business or responsibility. If Mom goes back to Central Falls and Dad goes back to Pittsburgh, I'm staying here for the time being. Because this is my life. And I am hopeful. *** And you know what else? Harry Potter 5 comes out tomorrow night!! I read in the news that J.K. Rowling cried because she killed one of the main characters in this up-coming book. Here are my suspects, from greatest possibility to least: Dumbledore (which would be interesting), Hagrid (which would be sad), and Snape (which would be unlikely, due to many loose ends that need to be tied up with his character, but is nevertheless a possibility because we all saw in Book 4 that the Death Eaters have him on their "To Kill" list). *** By the way, none of the above is to be spoken about at my house. I'm not supposed to tell anyone what happened Tuesday night, but as this is my diary... I don't care anymore.
A Bit of History ~ And Onward! L'Amour Toujours! - August 08, 2005 |
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