when in rome

On behalf of my crazy self that actually published that last blog entry, I would like to apologize. I was and in fact am still having a rough time. To be completely honest I still feel tonight how I felt when I wrote that. I'm not proud of it, but I can also not ignore it. That's the reality. Bad day's suck. It really hurts when you don't feel good enough for much, and you really don't have anywhere to turn.

Which brings me to my next point; I hate circles. To repetitive. Never surprising. Same ol' same ol' with those circles. Now an octagon... an octagon I can live with.

When I was five years old I wanted to be an astronomer. You should feel lucky, reader. Not many people know that fact about me. My father bought me a toy telescope. I thought with that plastic tube on a stand I could see the universe. In all it's enormity. I thought I could see the eye of jupiter and the rings of saturn as if it were hair in my eyes.

14 years later I, Christine Friedrich. Chris. Grew up. And no one handed me a towel.

Getting older, wow. It's a limit, a wall, some kind of fence. Intangible proof that caution can still exist. It should still exist. But maybe you are like me, you aren't like me. Growing up to you can mean opposite things. Limitless. Liberation. Freedom. The never-ending cotton candy sky has never looked so invitingly sweet.

So, we'll exsist. Within boundaries, borders, limits and lines. We'll breathe as we always have. We'll write as we always will. We'll love just a little bit more. We'll take just a little bit less. But, the cotton-candy sky will not change for me. For us. For them. And to me...
That is beautiful.

I wish change didn't ache. I wish it didn't pull the wrong strings. I wish it wouldn't take away the many things it inevitably will. I wish it would bring with it, happiness, fortune, love... one day it will. Not for a 19 year old. We aren't that lucky in the "best days of our lives." If these are the best days why do I miss looking through a plastic tube at a distant star and being do damn ignorant I didn't know war or killing, all I really knew was that star. Why do I miss walking through the halls holding hands in an immature relationship. When did marriage and family and a career all of a sudden turn into close goals? When did our relationship turn into saying goodnight to an answering machine. When was this out of our hands? And why does change hurt so bad?

When did I start caring who made the earth and the trees? When was I first introduced to a higher power? When did I stop believing? When did praying start to seem ridiculous and useless? When I kept losing people. When I got so damn sad the only relief was vodka. When no matter how much I tried nothing was good enough. I wasn't good enough. I'm not good enough. I'm still waiting for those prayers. Where are you? You've given me things I don't deserve. Half a wonderful family, an amazing boy, opportunites. But you'll never give me my dad back, my mom...you'll never make my sister smile like she used to, and you won't make my grandmother stop doubting. I don't understand your ways, I don't know if you there. I'm confused. Even if you were I wouldn't deserve even you.