Shades of gray.

I've been thinking about writing this very specific blog entry, one about regrets. I've got to work up to it, and I thought I was ready this morning, but I have a feeling it's going to take a lot of out of me and I'm just in such a great mood today. I've only been sleeping, on average, every other night and this week has seemed endless. I started this new book about a mother-daughter duo both lost at their respective times in life; the mother, about to turn 50, can't seem to let go of the girl she was, and the daughter, my age, can't reconcile a broken heart and the desire to not be so afraid of the world. I think because I'm so much like the daughter, reading the book every day is a little bit like reading an old journal. Terrifying.

But I'm very happy. This week has been a rollercoaster, and I'm glad to say that I stepped off okay. The "day" is coming up here, in four days, and I'm not sure how I'll feel. I actually forgot that this time last year I was with him. It's weird for me to think that I haven't seen him in so long; I guarantee that, had you asked either of us, we would never have said that we'd even have gone six months without seeing each other. It's surreal, but in remembering how tortured I was last year, I'm thankful that 365 days later I'm able to breathe on my own, broken heart or not. I never thought I'd make it without him.

Which brings me to my attachment issues and how extreme they are. I either love you, in which case I want to see you every day, or I tolerate you and can't stand to spend more than 24 hours pretending to listen. Phase 1 is reserved for family and a select group of friends. Phase 2 is everyone else. That's how quickly I make a decision about people. There is no in between for me, no gray area. I either like you or I don't. If I don't like you, then I don't spend time with you. My mother says it's a LaCourse trait; this ability to turn things on and off so efficiently, to see things clearly and without muss. What that really means is that I lack the feelings to make decisions based on emotion, which translates to "I'm emotionally unavailable." Whatever. My problem with all of this is... who taught me to be different? My mother is so overly emotional sometimes that it makes me gag and want to run as fast as I can in the opposite direction. My father, the person I look up to most, was emotionally stunted for years, until his marriage ended in disaster. Only now, years later, has he become my best friend, and the man who cries at EVERYTHING.

I feel things, you know. Even if I don't always show it. I definitely have a bigger capacity for emotions when it comes to animals rather than humans. But that seems simple and logical to me as well. Humans make mistakes, they're inherently bad. Animals are innocent in all sense of the word. You know that Dawn commercial? Where they clean up animals who are covered in oil from a spill? I cry. Every time. I'm not exaggerating. And last night, I happened to turn to Animal Planet (big mistake) where there was a show about the ASPCA, and rescuing animals from neglect. I watched for maybe a minute, was already disgusted by what I was hearing, and had to change it. And that's the problem. Humans are bad by choice. Any animal that's bad is bad because someone made it that way. I suppose this is a bit of a digression. Apparently I needed to validate the fact that I do show emotions (even if only to commercials and tv shows).

I'm happy, though. I think I've figured out a way to beat this thing, and Jules will be here tonight. I have my first day off in forever on Monday and I've had appointments scheduled since May: hair, nails, eyebrows, the works. Sam and I are going to take a trip to Canton in search of a Pumpkin Spice latte and new purses, and then I'm having dinner with Mom and Jules. The Vermont trip is getting ever-closer, and I'm still waiting for the fortune cookie that will tell me I need to move to Saratoga with Sarah. So I haven't lost hope. I guess I never did. I just couldn't find it for awhile.