That One Summer

June 25, 2011 - Dreamers Always Do

Dear Diary,

My thought is: new chapter in life - new diary. I have a wall full of diaries from since I was 12 years old, and to be honest my last diary is only half full of entries, but I don't want to mix this part of my life into that part of my life.

My last diary was from a completely different Jane. She was happy, motivated, on top of the world.

This Jane is bitter, apathetic, and being smothered by the world.

I figure I will fill these pages with this part of my life, and then burn it and pretend it never happened. Sorry to tell you about your inevitable future diary, but be assured that you will be put to good use. I see this diary as a recovery method. This is just a period that I will use to get back on my feet and find myself. By this time next year I will have a completely different mindset.

Who am I kidding? I don't know if I'll ever recover from what I did to my life. I really messed things up.

You know those brief blissful moments in the morning where you first wake up, before you're able to place who and where you are, and what's going on in your life? Those are the best parts of my day lately.

My morning began with him tapping on my door, and I enjoy those few sweet blissful moments. I feel the sunlight drifting through the small slit between my black curtains, stretching as I start to place things.

And then it all hits me again.

It rushes back to me the same way it always seems to: a swift sinking, followed by the realization that I'm not living a life that I want to be. Uncle Ger always said if you don't like the way things are going, all you have to do is change something. But he could see a silver lining in everything; dreamers always do. I kept his words in the back of my mind, like a saving grace card I could play whenever needed, which didn't seem to be ever; until now that is. I guess uncle Ger forgot to mention that changing things wasn't as easy as it sounded. And you don't always get to choose how they change either.

"Jane?" He calls with another knock, this time not waiting for an answer, but letting himself in. "I asked you to set an alarm."

I had in fact set one the night before, but after laying wide awake for what must have been hours, I decided to turn it off in hopes I could get at least a bit of sleep to help me face this day. Although I was doubtful that anything could in any way help.

"It's not forever kid." He tries, his voice closer now. I'm still wrapped in my blankets, facing away from him and toward the cracked window, chilled morning air filling my room. I knew he hated it when I left it open. "You're going to be late." I feel the bed dip beside me as he sits and tries to place his hand on my head, but I recoil instantly deeper into my blankets, hearing his sigh echo in my now packed up room.

"Good." I say, although I'm feeling like a brat for torturing him the way I had the past few weeks. I wanted not to care so badly, to keep throwing sharp words and icy stares his way without flinching. But I couldn't ignore his feelings the way he could mine. The guilt always resonated, and I knew I was inches away from giving in and pretending everything was okay again.

"It's not like I'm happy about leaving you like this." He's said versions of this sentence many times, maybe hoping the more he said it, the more true it would become. "You know I would have never taken the job if I knew that y-"

"Stop, please!" Hearing it out loud would make it all too real. The only way to go on at this point was to pretend that none of this was happening.

I knew he honestly did feel bad, deep deep deep down, but I also knew he was still going. And we both knew he didn't have to. Then again, he's not my parent. Not really. He was my uncle, and I wasn't ever supposed to be his responsibility. He had decided not to marry, not to have kids, to live the single bachelor life; and then low and behold his sister and her husband die in a plane crash, and suddenly he's 25 with a 10 year old. Could I really blame him for wanting to finally move on?