it was everything in reverse order. all things in reverse order. have you moved forward? i've regressed. have you realized yourself? i'm questioning. have you cut your hair? i'm letting my grow out. have you decided? i've pretended not to notice.
i wrote this last fall about the way it had felt to go back home when my dad was sick in january and i'm leaving out a lot of details on purpose. i was just thinking over the weekend that a year ago, he was still alive, and i was not calling him. not because we were fighting, but because i was lazy and scared, if i'm being honest. and i was thinking about how i wish i could still have the luxury of choosing whether or not to call. and i thought about how i thought i'd grown. and then i found that in a draft and realized i hadn't.
and anyway it's just been a weekend. and i'm not complaining - i mean, i know that everything is like this and that people will go or stay or come back or change and i know that sometimes weekends are weekends.
i've thought a lot about what i'm supposed to do before friday, which is to say that i've tried to write the letter in my head and i've gotten nowhere. i thought about writing it here, but that seems sadder.
i want everything to be better and maybe more like it was in 1993, as if that's not too much to ask. i was the only one she would sit with at the holidays, did you know that? she would only come to me. i am such a disappointment and i'm sorry. but i'm telling the wrong person.
anyway i just thought i'd put this somewhere, in case i needed to find it later.