Monday, 07/26/04 - 10:45 pm.
Carmen called me at 8:45 in the morning, to ask if she could come over. I'd already had breakfast, and I was about to read my second newspaper (I need to read two newspapers everyday) when she called. But I told her I was just about to eat, so she'd have to come in about 30 minutes (silly me, just trying to delay the inevitable).
I was going to say "no, don't come", but obviously I couldn't do it. And while I took a bath and waited for her, I was very upset, talking to myself as if I was talking to her: oh, I know what you'll tell me. You and Veronica made up and now you're both falling in love with each other, and such.
She came over, alright, and her visit was very, very boring. She played on my Super Nintendo by herself, and then talked a lot about how she'd found the perfect girl for her (remember she's a lesbian) and other things. I was merely a listener, barely bothering to nod along.
But then she said that there was this guy, a friend of hers, who liked Veronica. He made me talk to her, to give her a message from him. It was funny, but from then on she and I have been talking a lot. Inside I went "what do you know, it's what I was saying before you came, 'you guys made up and moved on'"...but then I grasped the real meaning of her statement, and although outside I seemed like I wasn't even listening, inside I was kicking and screaming, NO! FUCK YOU, FUCK THE BOTH OF YOU! FUCK YOUR STUPID 8th GRADE RELATIONSHIP AND EVERYTHING IT BROUGHT!!!.
The best way to explain this fucked up relationship between Carmen and Veronica (in which I'm stuck in the middle, but unnoticed and suicidal) would've been if I'd kept this journal in 8th grade, many, many years ago.
In a nutshell, though: by 7th grade, Veronica and I were best friends. We met Carmen, she tagged along, and so it was the three of us in 8th grade. They started to get real close to each other (I even thought they were lesbian lovers), while I started to be pushed aside. They were always in the middle of emotional issues, whether it was with each other or with a third party, but mostly it was both at the same time. I tried to help them, while I tried to get help for myself ("PLEASE, PLEASE, NOTICE ME!"...it's the first time I tried-to-attempt-to-commit suicide, but I didn't hurt my body in any way and nobody ever knew), but since I was pushed aside, they were out of my reach. But let's not dig any deeper, please?
End of story, they ended up not talking to each other, out of guilt and resentment. Eventually they found other people, they left each other and me (because both thought the other would "take care" of me) and I was no longer in the middle, but still unnoticed and suicidal...and alone. And that's pretty much where I started this diary, two years after that psychological thriller.
And now Carmen comes and tells me "Veronica and I are talking again". Oh, haha, good one. Actually, I couldn't care less, because I bet they're over everything that happened in 8th grade, and I'm 100% sure they never even knew how I felt about their conflicts. I'm glad for the both of them, if I must. But having both in the same thought is just disturbing to me, even after all these years.
Ugh, ok. Her Veronica comment was very quick, and then she went on to other things. I was bored out of my mind, about to yell at her: "go away!", but I kept listening to whatever she had to say. You look bored, she said. Oh, no, no. I feel sick...I have a headache...I've been feeling a little bad lately, I replied. Which is quite true, anyway. And luckily for me, she left earlier than I thought. I mean, she's nice and all, but...I just have to be in the mood to be with her.
Aside from that sour episode (mostly in my mind, really) the rest of my day consisted of baking cookies, making pop-corn, having a girl talk with my niece, straightening her hair, helping her finish Mario 3 and helping my nephew Javier with his homework. And even at times, remembering Ern, who's two months old...er, dead (his murder was never solved, the case was forgotten three days later).
I did not talk to Joseph, which is making me choke. It's funny how everyday I realize how perfect he is for me, and how much I love him. "Good-funny", because I never conceived I was capable of feeling this way about somebody (let alone that I'd found someone to feel for).
Such is life when you're dead, I used to say to myself every night, back in 8th grade, when I developed a fondness for bubbles and skeletons.
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