Divorce is ugly. A second one is even worse.

My poor mother, that's twice that she's had to go through such a sad, heartbreaking process. She's only been serious about 2 men in her life, she married them both, and they broke her heart. There really is no easy and clean way to end things, but my mother has probably gone through the worst way to end things. She's sad, but she's strong enough not to show it to us kids.

And me? It hurts a lot. This is the second father figure that has betrayed me and I still haven't been able to forgive the first one, who by the way, just recently appeared back in my life. My stepfather has done so much for me. Without him, I wouldn't have had the high school experience that I had or met the friends I've met or even discovered Tahoe. He's actually been there for me, more so than more father ever has or probably ever will. I used to think that he loved me and cared about me as his own, but things quickly changed as his relationship with my mother changed. I thought that I meant enough to him that he'd be there for me, even if he and my mother split up, but I guess that was a naive notion. I loved him enough to call him dad.

Twice scorned... I don't know if I'll ever be able to accept another father figure into my life. Maybe I'm old enough that I won't need one. Can anyone ever be too old for a father? I don't actually know, but I guess it really doesn't matter. I have my mother, my sisters, my nephew, my friends, who needs a father? I have all I could want, and I guess there's always my dad if I'm awfully desperate. As long as they are all alive and well, I will be too.

The only other man that I've ever looked up to is my only surviving grandfather. I love him so much. He's such a strong and respectable man, but even he won't be around much longer. At least I've had him for as long as I have, and when I inevitably lose him, I will have many memories of him. Cancer, death, and old age is a lot worse than divorce.

Everything is so overwhelming. All it gives me is a headache.

I'm tired of crying.

today is the fifth anniversary of 9/11.

I wasn't even 13 yet, that day, but it's a day I'll never forget.

I remember sitting in the car half-listening to the radio talking about a plane crashing into a tower in new york. I didn't really give it much thought, but I remember thinking, they must be joking, as I got out of the car and walked onto my school's campus. As I was walking, my friend approached me, talking a mile a minute about the attack, expressing his fear about an attack in L.A. and informing me that Disneyland had shut itself down. All I remember thinking was, "Oh my God, are you serious?"

It was pretty grim during my first period P.E. class, but when it came time to say the pledge of allegience, I'm pretty sure we spoke loud and clear.

I remember that my principal made an announcement that day, reassuring us that we were safe at our school. I remember walking in to my history class and the entire class wanted to watch the news. My teacher told us that the principal had told all teachers not to allow the students to watch the news, but he turned it on anyways, claiming that we had a right to watch our history in the making. During lunch, few of us wanted to leave the classroom and we stared at the image of the burning towers, watching the footage of the planes crashing into the building, hearing about Flight 93 and about the firemen and policemen who were rushing into the building trying to save lives, all while risking their own.

I remember going home that day. My stepbrother, who is in the military, had been working at the pentagon for the past few months. We were all worried for him, and relieved when we received a call from him informing us that he was safe.

That day, I shed tears for the thousands of people I did not know.
Today, I shed tears for the thousands of people I will never know.

All the people who died that day, all the people who risked their lives, all the people who suffer still as a result of that day, whether it be emotionally or physically, I cry for them.

All that I will ever need to know about them in order to love them is that they were someone's son, daughter, mother, father, friend, spouse, sister, or brother, and that they were Americans.

I was young then, and five years later, I still am young, but I'll never be too young to understand that I love them all.

my dad is coming back soon.... very soon... I'm not sure how I feel about that.


on a much lighter note:

college has begun. I can't believe it's already here, yet graduation seemed like so very long ago. it's strange.
I can't say I've actually made any friends in school, even though it's been 2 weeks.
I get to school to late to socialize, and by the time my last class is over, I just want to get off campus. and of course, during class, I'm busy trying to listen to what's going on in class. I'm not dedicated or brave enough to join a club or organization without someone I know by my side.
it's not that I really care for now. I never really cared about being alone, simply because I know that people somewhere care.

Anyhow, I told him I'd do this for him a long time ago, and since his 18th birthday just recently passed and he's been so sweet to me, I've decided to finally do this. (though I can't say I'll ever actually let him read this, that much ego in one boy is unbearable):
He is my absolute best friend ever. I mean, he isn't my closest friend, that spot is reserved for my girls, but he is the one that has just stuck. despite time, distance, his jealous girlfriends, psychotic girls, and a lot of trouble and anger, we only grow stronger and become closer. I don't know what it is about this guy. we met in 8th grade, purely by chance and I don't know how we evolved into what we are now. He makes me feel loved and secure. I know he'll have my back and that I can trust him with anything. I know he cares for me and gives me whatever support I need. He always makes me laugh and feel good, and though he loves to insult me, he never ceases to be so incredibly sweet. I know that he's human and is incredibly prone to mistakes and despite all of the disappointments, my faith in him never falters. I'm so incredibly proud of him, his will, his strength, who he is in general.
He's my best friend, and I'd always be ready to drop everything to come to his aid, or even to drive all the way to his work shop to keep him company until 4 in the morning. what else can I say? I love the guy. He's the best.