The Journal

Did you ever read those books where there's this rich guy and a plain girl with low self -esteem? And they fall madly in love. And they have to go through all the ridicule from their friends, "He's a snob," or, "She's a regular plain Jane!". But they ignore it all. Saying things like, "Love is all that matters," and live happily ever after. So at the end of the book, for about 5 min. you think that really could happen. But then you remember that war over in some nameless country. Or your divorced parents, and you're brought back down to the real world with a thud.
Well I have, a lot. Too much, to the point where I go to school sneaking looks at my crush. Expecting something. Waiting for him to look over at me and fall madly in love or something. I look at my mother, has she ever read a book like that? Did she ever think, "Hey! Maybe this marriage can work if we focus on love more!" Yeah right, they would be like,
"Love? What the heck is that . . .?"

Mom and dad never let my brother and I hear them scream and yell at each other. We would always have to go outside to play or go to the movies or something. But I knew they did, just by the way they'd come to breakfast in the morning, all stiff. Daddy would go straight to the paper, and start reading. Mom would bring him his coffee and toast, never saying a word. Those were the mornings I'd try to slurp down my cereal so I could leave for school. I don't know if I can explain the feeling. It chilled me to the bone. All that staleness in the air, like no one was breathing. Their tight expressionless faces made me want to run up to my room and hug myself till morning the next day. I can only imagine what my brother felt. He knew too; we talked a little about it but mainly steered clear of the subject.

When Daddy left I cried. He stays at an apartment across town. My brother and I see him sometimes. When he has the time for us. I feel the feeling still. But I noticed that my mother felt the same way. Maybe if I'd noticed that when they were together, we could have talked. Talked about what it's like to feel that kind of helplessness; when your family seems to be slipping away from you. When all you can do is stand by and watch. But she would have brushed me away. I'm not sure, but I'm only her daughter, and I'm not suppose to help my mother, she should help me. Or maybe I've been misinformed . . .

Oh well, never, ever, ever will I get a divorce. Never.
Well, this is Monica, signing out.