I used to know myself a lot better than I do now.  There was a time when what I knew could fill me up completely.  I could feel God in me.  I knew my heart was good and what I had to give was worthwhile.  I used to take all of my pain and my anger and my bitterness and vanquish it immediately.  I gave it all up to God.  I don’t remember when this stopped- when it took more than just myself to make me well.  I feel this emptiness, this raw, mushy, cracking, sore lump inside me- it sucks up the things that make me smile and replaces them with the acid of self doubt.

I know that there was a time when I felt like even if I was ugly- I was also Good.  That I deserved love because I was a good person who loved and honored and treasured my blessings.  But now, sometimes, I feel like I was lieing to myself.  I wonder what I could do to find that feeling again?  I’ve tried many different churches, many different ways of communing with God- spiritual research, carnal research, trying to open my mind and gain that sense of security that somehow was lost to me.

It makes me think of that line in Dogma, the Kevin Smith film, where Liz is trying to explain to Bethany that Faith is like a cup, when you are little the cup is easy to fill because it’s small. As you get older the cup gets bigger and it’s harder to fill with the same amount of Faith.  I feel like I still have a lot of faith in God, and a lot of confidence that he is with me and guiding me, but I am feeling like I haven’t gotten any more faith in myself.  I am a bigger person, trying to get by on a 13 year old’s self faith (which I think, on average, is low to begin with).  I’ll wake up one day feeling so confident in my choices and so proud of myself, but it doesn’t take long until I can see it leaking out of me like a balloon with a pin hole.  Stupid things- an askew look on the train, fumbling my words and making jJk impatient with me, a condescending email, and suddenly I am just so in need of someone else to put confidence in me that I can barely, not even for a moment, imagine that I should or could be putting it in myself.

It’s just that I am sitting here, on the couch, in the quiet, trying to will myself to relax and go to bed but I’m wound as tight as a spring thinking about Godspell, about things I want to tell people, about smoking weed, and just feeling lonely and wanting someone to pay attention to me.  Most of all I am wanting to give myself the attention I deserve but I have no idea how. I wish I could give myself the love that I seek from others and the love I so freely give to others.  I am trying- hard.  Its just so much more difficult than I imagined it would be.

Ever Virgin.

Valentine’s Day and I have had a long and complicated relationship.  We’ve always been at odds.  Today, after getting home from a lovely dinner and a movie with a wonderful and beloved friend, I sat down and took a stroll down memory lane, looking back on the Valentine’s Days of yesteryear and thinking about the uniquely beautiful road of life I have had the pleasure of traveling.  I thought that I might quote myself here, through the years, as time and experience shaped my life and helped me develop the keen heart and mind that writes to you on a regular basis.  More than the celebration of my birth, which comes very close to this holiday, Valentine’s Day has always been a time of much deeper contemplation than my response to turning a year older.

February 14th, 2003: Je sais que vous lisez ceci. Je sais que vous êtes ici. Je sais qui vous êtes vous une force silencieuse qui hante mes étapes. Est exactement ce ce qui vous vous voulez voulez que je vous écrive quelque chose directement. Vous voulez que je joue la carte française. Je peux vous sentir à l’intérieur de moi et je vous connais ne partirai pas. Je vous ai aimé davantage que toute personne qui a jamais vécu ou a respiré. Je t’aime toujours avec une passion qui rivalise n’importe qui autrement. Vous êtes toxique. Ne pensez pas que j’ai oublié tous ce que vous avez faits à moi. Je n’oublierai jamais. Je ne vous pardonnerai jamais. Il est seulement parce que je t’aime tellement, cela que je peux écrire ceci maintenant, connaissant le plein puits que vous le lirez et saurez ma passion. J’ai passé. J’ai un autre petit ami. Je suis heureux qu’il me traite comme une princesse. Quand je suis avec lui, j’oublie que vous existez. Ne pensez pas que vous importez. Vous n’importez pas. Vous m’avez par le passé dit que personne ne m’aimeraient jamais après vous. Vous m’avez dit que vous étiez le seul qui pourrait jamais aimer quelqu’un aussi défectueux que je suis. Vous avez tort. Je t’aime toujours. Je vous déteste toujours.

(Clearly I was still hung up on a certain French man at this point. Yikes. “when I am with you, I wish that I was dead”)

February 14th, 2004: Well, it is Valentine’s Day. Many of you know how I feel about this day already, so I will not go into a pointless and long rant about the cheap and capitalistic nature of this “holiday” especially because I am sure you will have lots of good points about other holidays which I happen to enjoy which are also in their own way cheap and capitalistic. Let me just say, no one in my family spoke the words “happy” or “valentine” today, though I cannot be certain that no one spoke the word “day”. I spent this day like I spend most of my days at home, doing errands for Aunt Betty, chatting with my Mom and cooking up rediclous schemes in my room. Today’s schemes included a bracelet making party with TJ (he is waaaay better at beading than I am)a weird conditioner making fiasco (bannanas, olive oil, milk, honey and dried rose petals!) and an old fashioned quarter hunt to bring with me for 100 days (I found 12 dollars worth!).
I also tacked down plans with Ian for our *second* date, we are going bowling! I warned him that I just might be the very worst bowler of all time, but he promises to teach me proper technique. I am sad that our 100 days trip clashes with the Collegate Choral festival, I really wanted to see both his and Kerri’s performances (Daemon…Daemon…) but I think going on the trip will be good- and Kerri is coming with us instead of going to the choral festival so that is the important part.
I am happy to have collected enough funds today to pay for all my theatre tickets, pay back those I owe a little money to, and pay for my 100 days ticket. It will put me ahead at least for the next few weeks. Hopefully soon my ship will come in- I can almost see it on the horizon. You will see, my friends, when it comes, you will see it because it will be in my eyes and in my heart and I will be full of joy. Oh how I wish to be full of joy again…
I am so annoyed that David only posted the schedule through Wednesday- it drives me raving mad because it is impossible to make plans for my week when I don’t know if my time will be free! Plus, Vagina Monologues are this week! I need to get everything organized. GULP> I really want to have a board meeting ASAP! I am going to see if I can get that organized right now.
It is cold in here.
I hope everyone’s day was full of the kind of joy that this sort of day is supposed to bring. I’ll be back at Stonehill Tomorrow.
Love.

(That conditioner was super gross and didn’t work at all.  It clogged up the bathtub with chunks of bannanas. Thanks a lot, Beauty Book)

February 14th, 2005: Awww… Happy V-Day everyone! Most of you know how I dislike V-day because of the copiously expensive flowers that on every other day cost 1/3 of what they cost on V-day, but this year I am trying to chin up and enjoy the day. Why not? St. Valentine would have wanted me to. In celebration of the feast of St. Valentine, I am offering you a little history on this bloke and why we celebrate his day with construction paper hearts.
St. Valentine
At least three different Saint Valentines, all of them martyrs, are mentioned in the early martyrologies under date of 14 February. One is described as a priest at Rome, another as bishop of Interamna (modern Terni), and these two seem both to have suffered in the second half of the third century and to have been buried on the Flaminian Way, but at different distances from the city. In William of Malmesbury’s time what was known to the ancients as the Flaminian Gate of Rome and is now the Porta del Popolo, was called the Gate of St. Valentine. The name seems to have been taken from a small church dedicated to the saint which was in the immediate neighborhood. Of both these St. Valentines some sort of Acta are preserved but they are of relatively late date and of no historical value. Of the third Saint Valentine, who suffered in Africa with a number of companions, nothing further is known.
So I decided to be whicked cool and announce to everyone who reads my journal on valentines day, that Christian and I are in love and we are going to get married. He just doesn’t know it yet. I have a completely rediculous crush on him and I think he is very very dear. He is from Norway, you know, and has the most unusual and interest accent I have ever heard. He sits with me every class and we talk and talk, and he even walks me to the T after class is over. He is totally adorable. Do I actually think that Christian and I will get married? No, not really, but its fun to pretend. My kids could learn english, french and norwegian and I think that is pretty great! He’s a doll. Today he even asked me if I wanted to have some tea at the cafe after class, which I had to rain check on because I have too much work to do and I will not allow a man, no matter how sweet, to come between me and my grades again. I have had my 2.72 GPA semester before, never ever again. Anyway, horray for Norwegian exchange students!
bunny + polar bear = <3

(This one is probably my favorite.  It’s funny because I just mentioned Christian to Jacob and I hadn’t thought of him in like…years.  It made me laugh to read this.  Boy did I think he was adorable though!)

February 14th, 2006: I’m not going to write too much about my V-day which was mostly boring with three key highlights that I can review with you in person if you are interested but since LJ is giving me a few more hours of Feb 14th love, I might as well say that I hope that everyone got exactly what they wanted out of this jour du St Valentine- love, bitterness, irony… whatever floats your dingy. I prefer to make the people I love feel loved on all the days of any given month, so Feb 14th doesn’t hold much interest for me, to the delight or dismay of any one ex. The man at the Arlington T-stop who sells a dozen roses for 8.00 every single day of the year was selling them for 20.00 today. I couldn’t help but be repulsed by the thought of anyone buying them even though I know how nice it feels to get roses on V-day or any day. It all just seems a waste, mate or no. Forget about the roses, buy me an HRC membership or save a whale or something instead. Do I sound bitter? I’m not. I really love you all and I am really happy if you had a wonderful V-day even if it does cost a fortune. I saw a lot of really sweet couples on the train on my way back home and that made me smile when I looked up from my game of sudoku. I kick sudoku ass every single day. I pwn sudoku. And when you pwn sudoku, how can you not be generally happy every day of the year, V-day included?

(I’m on the right track here.  I still play Sudoku and I am still great at it.  The only downfall is my copious use of the “word” “pwn”  did I think that was cool?  Its not cool.)

February 14th, 2008: Most of you know how I feel about the fated 14th of February in all its pink, glittery, over-priced glory. Most Valentines Days, be they with a significant other, or not, have had me bemoaning a frustration with people’s inability to appriciate and love one another the other 364 days of the year when flowers and chocolate are not inflated by 200%. This may make me sound bitter or typical, but honestly I have never liked it, even when I was a kid- I found it stressful to hand address and deliver valentines to half a class full of kids I didn’t like, several friends who could care less and a few torturous crushes that filled me with agonizing defeat. I don’t like chocolate, conversation hearts or red-hot cinamon hearts, so even the child-like joy one gets out of eating confections was robbed of me on this bland day.
This, however, was the first year in my current recollection, that I had a really FUN time on Valentine’s day. The day was normal with the normal amount of work and the normal characters- the fact that I work in private in my own little office drastically improves my ability to avoid people dressed in ugly pink sweaters carrying ugly overpriced flowers with glitter stuck to them to their offices to oggle over them in front of their clearly bored co-workers.
So I made it through the day in peace and arrived home to straighten up the kitchen and prepare dinner for Jacob and I. I made a lovely stir-fry of peppers, summer squash, and chicken which we enjoyed with some sparkling cranberry juice and then prepared to go out- donning our holiday best of ratty jeans and mankey hoodies covered by peacoats, the two of us looked like the Boon Dock Saints. So we took a little bus ride out to Ram Rod (no, I’m serious) and went to Machine (The bar bellow Ram Rod) and there was a stage set up with a colorful and elaborate display. We were then treated by the most entertaining 90 minutes of theatre I have seen in Boston in the last 5 years. We watched Medea in Drag. It was so campy and rediculous that there were points when I could not catch my breath. I mean these people were too funny and the little gags they threw in were AMAZING. i can’t say enough about the production, it was so awesomely bad that it would be a shame for anyone to miss it! It was so freaking fun.
After the show, Jacob took me out to a romantic post-show snack at the McDonalds on the corner. We shared a meal in the grimeyest “boat house themed” mcDs I have ever been in. I can only imagine their usual clientelle. I couldn’t stop laughing the whole time.
When I got home there was a fantastic episode of LOST waiting for me starring my favorite Middle Easterner. Oh he is so pretty! And with no clothes on! Oy. I love me some Sayid. It was the perfect end to a really fun evening.
I hope those of you that are less jaded than I had a romantic, colorful, memorable evening. February is more than half over- aren’t you pumped? Spring’s on the way!!

(Awww that WAS a fun night.  It’s hard to believe that was a year ago.  So much has happened!  I mean, I had a pretty sweet Valentine’s Day date tonight but last year’s night was probably the most fun VDay I have ever had.  It was the McD’s that really put the icing on the cake.  I had the nuggets.  It was pretty romantic.  Also, we didn’t have a car last year so I have no idea how we even got down there.  I vaguely recall a cold walk through the Fens…)

Ever Virgin.

I’ve grown accustomed to feeling weak
with the memory of your mouth against my cheek
with the image of his mouth upon your lips
sliding skin against skin
through three relationships.

I can not forget the feeling, cold and wet
of that sidewalk of dampened grey cement
as I walked barefoot across a blackened sky
and how you invited me to your bed
unknowing it was the way you say goodbye.

I would burn my bra and unlace my thighs
for the full appreciation of your eyes
for one more moment of your thoughtful care
that I could truly believe
had your full attention there.

Goodbye sweet burden of unslept nights
goodbye dearest center of a thousand fights
I shall always miss how hotly you cause me to spark
the best kindler of any flame
who I no longer reach for in the dark.

Ever Virgin.