Saturday, March 19, 2011

This post hurts me to write

November 21, 1987

It's kind of funny. Cris is this pained person trying desperately to have his cake and eat it too. He wnts lots of women - always will have them.

I am making him leave - can't say I didn't try. Now he will live with Lisanne. She is so happy and "my gosh, he's so cute!" She doesn't know...

I feel really good.

Undated

My back still hurts.
Cris is back home but it is different. He is not my husband anymore. It is more like we are friends who have had a spat and we are trying hard not to ruin our friendship.

Oh well, I think I must have the house and kids. Cris gets much too angry. I may get angry but I never hurt the kids.

December 3, 1987

Staying late night to edit my video. Laid on the floor staring out the skylights. I am afraid to write things down. Don't want anything stupid to come out that I will laugh at later. I slept with Cris last night. I am sorry [that] I did. He is very selfish or should I say lustful and not loving. I shouldn't sleep with him anymore. I'm always sorry when I do.

I went for a walk with Sean and got high. I would really like to have a fling with him. But I don't know how to make a pass. Oh Sue, all in good time...

December 5, 1987

Stayed over night at Steve and Julie's house - pretty anxiety ridden time. I feel in the way. I bought a book "Earth Power" for Cris last night when I met Steve's family at Northtown [Mall]. Got the baby food jars that Julie has saved for me. I want to fill them for Cris. Now I'm all done with his Christmas shopping. Now it's Mom and Dad and Mom and Dave. Maybe I'll do some prints for them. I want to plan a party. Cris wants to pick the winter solstice but I'd rather pick a different day. Oh well...all ends in love and war.

Undated

I split the mahogany. I didn't drill the holes. What? - maybe ten more minutes...

Read "The Gift"again and then give him back himself.


Undated


It's funny - you really don't know what you want. You can't even write your thoughts down. There is a blockage. I even call myself you. I think each thing as I write it down...

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