Filed under: Family, Me

I have my car back. When we drove to the body shop it was parked out front. At first glance I couldn’t believe it was my car. I was so used to it having a wrecked and dirty look, that my first thought was “wow, whose car is that?” Then I realized it was my own. Silly me. Matthew said we saved money by not getting the ribbon on the side fixed (I don’t know if thats the name for it, but it looks like a long plastic ribbon that goes all the way down the side of the car), but if you look at it, its noticeable. I wish now we would have gone through and done it. It was my money after all. If I think about this long enough, it starts to piss me off. It was my wreck. He took my money and used it for probably bills yes, but spending purposes, other than fixing my car. Which by the way has to be sold before we move. If it doesn’t look nice, we don’t get paid as much.

Whew. One thing leads to another… Bad habit I have. Getting mad at people when they aren’t around.

I started writing in my paper diary again. I bought it last year during the fall. I wrote it in probably 4 times. Today I wrote about my date with Lani. We went to a beautiful greenhouse yesterday, and then Claires to buy a few things. She was an angel and it was really fun to be with her. I want to do more things like that. Just mother daughter stuff. When Forrest is a bit older, we’ll do things together too. He gets to spend time with his daddy when we leave. They need that time together, since Matthew hardly sees him during the day.

I think I can manage to write one entry a day in my diary. I envision Leilani or Forrest reading it years from now, pondering about life in this era, or perhaps their children. My grandchildren. Thats what I want it to be. Something that can be handed down. Lessons could be learned from things I write about. Such as when Matthew cheated on me. Or how my father was so cruel.

Speaking of my father, he hasn’t called me. I sent him an album with pictures of the kids in it, and some of my mom holding Leilani. Photos from birth to present. In it, I had left a note, explaining that his frequent calls stressed me out and made me feel vulnerable. I remember shaking as I wrote it. When it was sent, I felt some final relief. Then he writes me an email only a couple days later, telling me that it made him feel awful and that he won’t ever call me again. That definitely is not what I had intended. I didn’t imply that in my letter. I just know I didn’t. He always does this to me. Twists things I say. Makes me feel guilty.

I feel so sad for him when he is lonely and pity him when he drinks, but then he turns around and makes me feel so guilty when I’ve done nothing at all. I don’t know how he does it. He’s a natural at destroying the soul.

I don’t plan on hearing from him anytime soon. I’m kind of hoping he doesn’t call me. Maybe this is the way it will end for the both of us. Our roles reversed. He the child and me the adult.

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