coffee

I'm at the coffee shop. Dan has plans that do not include me tonight, and I wasn't about to suffer my children's moods on my own, so I scored a sitter and here I sit.

Suddenly I'm reminded of the summer I was oh, maybe 17? I have a flash of a specific night (much like this) when I was sitting in PJ's uptown on Carrollton (I'm not sure this particular location is still there post-Katrina, may have to investigate when I return home) with my journal (oh how times have changed, as I currently sit here with my laptop), pouring my heart out and saving my empty packet of Sweet & Low, pressing it between the pages as one would a leaf or a flower. Though I was heartbroken and feeling alone, part of me thought I was uber-cool for being at a coffehouse and journaling. I did always tend to feel set apart or somehow ahead of my time in some respects---my friends were mostly out drinking it up (not that I didn't do that on occasion) and having these wonderful, popular, fun lives...while I was sitting by myself at PJ's mourning my love life (or lack thereof), my mess of a family, and my latest failed geometry test.

Is there such a difference between 17 & 32? Yes and no. I'm still wearing jeans and a t-shirt. I still feel 17 on the inside...is that weird? Is that normal? I don't know. I am still a klutz. I still love to read and write and dream about being a famous writer someday. I know that I never will, because I will never DO it, and because I'm such a small person in such a big world and I feel like no one would care about what I'd have to say. I don't even know what all I have to say. There I go. I'm crying in the coffee shop just like I did when I was 17.

I still think too much. I still form intense attachments with people and I get sad when I feel like those people don't like me as much as I like them. I open myself up, pour my heart out, I am fiercely loyal (or so I think)...but I try not to need anyone too much. Does that make sense? I don't like to be/seem needy. But it's funny because as much as I try not to be that way, perhaps that is exactly what I am on the inside--needy--constantly looking for and yearning for acceptance and love. Wanting everyone to like me. Maybe part of that comes from those rough junior high years and Mean Girls. Or maybe that is how everyone is? Doesn't everyone want to be loved/needed/accepted?

Maybe I need to reach out more. Maybe I keep myself at a distance to protect myself. My thoughts are all over the place and this probably isn't making much sense.

This song just came on in here---from the soundtrack to that Natalie Portman movie, Garden State(one of my all-time favorites, by the way)...."Let Go" by Frou Frou is the name of the song. Reminds me of a good friend I lost a long time ago. I have a lot of associations with music. I wish I could listen to more of my own music ("Mommy Music," as my girls call it)....kind of an apropos way to conclude this post...with thoughts of a sweet friend and learning to let go, as it were.