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The one in which I am Done With This. (Not this as in the diary, though!)

15.04.03 (16.50)

Hmm, back so soon.

I won't apologize for the sentimentality of the last entry, because I think it's so stupid to do that. It's human, and some times I need to vent and some times I need to cling to people who possibly don't want to be clinged on. That's just how it goes.

But today I purchased 31 songs by Nick Hornby. The book, not actual songs. And Justified by Justin Timberlake. Alas, I have gone slam dunk into the wall of emberassing teenybopperness. And I like it. Most of it anyways. Even though I'm listening to Lucinda Williams at the moment, because my father bought her newest CD, and he's not sure he likes it, but I think it sounds good. My father likes his country music countrified. I like mine alternative, I guess. I don't know, I like it, in general, period. dot, exclamation point.

The thing is, I need to say some stuff, because I don't think I want it to be said on the other diary, because that one can be found so much easier than this one. As mentioned last night (when the entry was less coherent, because doing three things at once isn't as easy as one wishes), M is back. With a hit and a thump and a kick in the head. She's in rehab. Which is just... whatever, you know. And while I wanted her to come back, I've waited two years for some sense of closure. I needed to feel like it's over and done and it was fun while it lasted (mostly) and it allowed me to be squishy and mushy and unbearably awww'ed out. And so she returned, and I went along with it, because it's all via the phone. And suddenly she seems to think we're just gonna pick up where we left off. And it's been two years, and while I might have been persuaded last year (I would've been so easy to sway), this year I'm not. Not by her. And she calls me all those things I thought were cute, and she uses a level of familiarity I was done with, and she uses terms like "when you come to visit me" as if it is just so apparent that I will come to her. Or allow her to come to me.

And I've had my closure now. This is closed, it's over, it was fun while it lasted. But she seems to want to open it all up again. And it's a can of worms and spiders and squishy little animals that are cute until you notice the fleas, and I'm done and close this up now, please? And I'm only sofar from letting my temper go, and leaving my "I'm a kind, respectful person" attitude behind and telling her to just Get Out Of My Life. In capital letters and underlined, if I must. I've had closure and this aftermath is no fun.

And if I preach anything, I preach the love and the understanding and the kindness I believe in, but she's making me willing to let it all go and shout "GO AWAY!".

And can I tell you a secret? The moment I do, I think I'll like it. It's been two years, and yes, I said I still like my image to be young and innocent, because I am. And I don't mind. But nowhere in the stipulations of being young and innocent does it say you have to be naive. I am not (i don't think), and I like my innocence untainted.

I'm leaving tomorrow, for easter vacation. When I get back, i'm making myself a diaryland banner, 'cause I have some banner ads to spend. We'll see how it goes.

I'm just happy, you know. It's spring and it's sunny and I have books and warmth and close friends and I've made up my mind.

Music of the moment: Lucinda Williams and Justin Timberlake. Yay!
Favorite? Grrr, who's the greatest person whenever I remember that she is.

S-K ©Milkshake n' honey