watched love actually last night. you know at the end when the beach boys are playing and everyone is hugging in the airport and you get all teary eyed thinking “wow family is everything. nothing else matters.” I WISH I GOT THAT FEELING. i’m an only child. no brothers or sisters to visit. no chance of becoming an aunt or uncle. my parents are BARELY together. i’m not close to anyone on either side because my mom was the baby so i’m the last of a first generation of cousins. family really doesn’t mean anything to me. SO WHY WAS I CRYING? i’m honestly not emotionally attached to anyone but my mom and i hope that isn’t a bad thing. i don’t have a long christmas list of gifts to buy or tons of family dinners to attend. i wouldn’t know what to do if my family was hugging me like some of those people were. do i want the opposite? would i want to raise a bunch of kids because i didn’t get to be a part of a big family? would i be good at that? also, if i did that, what if they all just turned out to be jerks who don’t have family values? i don’t know. the holidays have always been a sad time for me and i think i’d like to do things differently but i’m not sure. i have a tree for the first time in years. thanksgiving was stupid. it usually is. all i want for christmas is my family to actually act like a family. there’s only three of us - it can’t be that hard. strangers can do it in the movies.
maybe don’t watch the walking dead before you go to bed. it seems like i was in an eight hour episode last night. my body was sore when i woke up today from fighting off people who weren’t dead and weren’t alive. it was one of those dreams where you woke up every hour and hoped it would end but it would continue. (why can’t the good ones ever go on?) some pause and play torture type shit. of course, we were in zombie world. somehow, i’d survived with my parents, all my dogs, and every time i came back home, a new person i had ever considered a best friend would show up. after each trip to a different room or each kill, a new face would appear and i was so happy to see they had made it back to me (or me to them?). things would go dark, we would stay light. i protected them, they protected me. i went out for supplies, kissed my mom goodbye. when i returned, i was alone. my red car was parked in the driveway. boney was sittin on the little sunroof waiting for me. our house had burned down. there was nothing left but us. i finally woke up for good. i hope we all made it.
“I am made up of bad habits. Consistent in how
I love boys who will never love me back.
Letting the phone go to voicemail when my
mother calls. Biting my nails bloody.
Wearing dresses when I should wear jeans.
Making my body small. Forgetting names
but not asking for them again. Maybe I should
have called. Maybe you should stop calling.
Maybe I should have remembered how you
take your coffee, your favorite band,
that you smoke a pack a day. Maybe I should
have apologized. If it’s any consolation,
my next birthday will be me eating cake in bed
and licking the icing off of my fingers alone.”— Kristina Haynes, ‘Bad Habits’ (via colporteur)