outer-jessie's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- elation becomes regret I think pregnancy is disgusting. Revolting, neauseating, repulsive. Whew. Just had to get that off my chest. I once had a friend named Lydia. Best friend, actually. She was a crazy person, in all the best ways, free-spirited, insanely bright, mysterious and hilarious. She was great. Still is, I'm sure. When we were seventeen, both of us were dating men who were twenty-seven. Mine was Rob. Hers was a man named Mike, who had a wife and a kid but whose marriage was on the fritz. He was smitten with Lydia (who was terribly beautiful) and they dated for quite a while. I was excited for her. I was excited that we were both in serious, real-life, mature-person relationships together and I encouraged their pairing. I thought it was all so great. One time she and I were on a road trip to somewhere and I giggled over a license plate. "Read that plate out loud and answer this: what are we going to do about Rob and Mike?" "Marium," she read, and we laughed and laughed. Today, I plan to marry Rob. Today, she may still remember the man who used her and abused her during his temporary hiatus from his wife. I am so mad at myself for not realizing then what was going on; for assuming that he was a good man just because I always thought he was. For not knowing the way men can manipulate young girls, even though I had already been through it myself. I'm ashamed of myself for promoting what for her must have been what the debacle with the married man was for me. I loathe myself for this misstep. It's worse than what happened to me, because it happened to her, and I should have protected her, not put her in danger. I know that what happened isn't my fault, and that he is entirely responsible for his behavior, but hindsight is twenty/twenty, and now I think I should have known. Dammit. I was such a fool. I wonder if she remembers me as the fool I was then. I was distressed enough thinking about this the other night in bed to want to call her right then and tell her I was sorry. What would she think, if I did? I haven't really talked to her in years, although I saw her briefly about a year ago. We're strangers now. How would she react to an apology from a stranger about something that happened five years ago? It's stupid, I know it is. (sigh) If we were telepathic, she'd know I was sorry without my having to tell her. 9:41 a.m. - 2002-06-25 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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