Yesterday was Snowflake's Y's 30th birthday. Coincidentally, I awoke having felt extremely rested for the first time in a very long time, even though I had the freakiest dream about him.
Anna Nicole and I were talking(yes, THAT Anna... I bond with her because I once was platinum w/ cherry red lips, like Marilyn as well). She was telling me what a great guy he was and how he was in her employ. I just took it all in, very mellow. That's all I can remember. I am starting to forget all of the things I thought I would remember about him. Things that I wanted to tell Snowflake. I'm glad that I journaled throughout the process because one day I will present the two notebooks to him. One, the story of his beginning and into life, the other filled with messages to his father.
That second one, I don't know. It's filled with a lot of emotion. Part of me wants to burn it. Part of me wants to give it to my baby when he's a man. Then I think he doesn't need to know all of the gory details of my emotions. He brought light back into the world and why bother him with the mess. It is only part of the story, my side of the story. The other side? He deserves to hear 'the other side', but I can only imagine how skewed and distorted it could be.
My side is distorted, too. When you're down, you're way down low. Rereading pages I feel like I don't even know that person. How could that be me? Part of me was so stupid for believing that everything would work out with him. I left the door open even after he was born. I tried knowing that I would fail. There are words of tenderness and hate. It is a record of something.
Then I remember, Anna said to keep it so he can read it when I'm dead.
Anna Nicole and I were talking(yes, THAT Anna... I bond with her because I once was platinum w/ cherry red lips, like Marilyn as well). She was telling me what a great guy he was and how he was in her employ. I just took it all in, very mellow. That's all I can remember. I am starting to forget all of the things I thought I would remember about him. Things that I wanted to tell Snowflake. I'm glad that I journaled throughout the process because one day I will present the two notebooks to him. One, the story of his beginning and into life, the other filled with messages to his father.
That second one, I don't know. It's filled with a lot of emotion. Part of me wants to burn it. Part of me wants to give it to my baby when he's a man. Then I think he doesn't need to know all of the gory details of my emotions. He brought light back into the world and why bother him with the mess. It is only part of the story, my side of the story. The other side? He deserves to hear 'the other side', but I can only imagine how skewed and distorted it could be.
My side is distorted, too. When you're down, you're way down low. Rereading pages I feel like I don't even know that person. How could that be me? Part of me was so stupid for believing that everything would work out with him. I left the door open even after he was born. I tried knowing that I would fail. There are words of tenderness and hate. It is a record of something.
Then I remember, Anna said to keep it so he can read it when I'm dead.
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