Ghosts from Yesterday

I'll get back to the details of my last post later.

I've been wondering lately how much I'm missing out on with the friendships I've given up on. Like the twins . . . at least B will be cordial with me and ask me how life is now that I've tried to reinstate contact, but R won't even acknowledge me. I'm sorry. I was 14. you're parents took the pastor's side. I assumed you wouldn't be allowed to talk to me. Or are you still upset about that whole thing? Could you really still be taking his side, law suit and all.

And Emily . . . we were pretty much best friends in grade school. Then she moved away. We both grew up, but I guess we did it a little differently. Ok, yeah, I'm a little fucked up. I swear a little more than I probably should. I'm tattooed, and a little banged up around the edges. I don't subscribe to the same brand of Religianity that you do anymore. You always talked about Mountains and Valleys. They were you're favoriate analogies. Well, alright, I've climbed to the tops of my "ups" and I've slammed and broken through the bottoms of the "downs." I'm a little banged up around the edges, and that shows through a little more than some people are comfortable. But you know what? I'm still me. I'm still the Cooper you knew. I still breathe the same, and I still believe. I refuse to say "if you'd been through what I've been through, you'd understand" cuz I don't know what you've been through these past years. Maybe you've been through worse. And if that's the case, then just talk to me. I want to talk. I want to still be your friend.

And then there's those kids . . . yes, the pastor's kids . . . the ones I try so hard to dispise. Funny, how I have terrifying nightmares about my pastor. I mean nightfuckingmares. Like I'd punch my boyfriend in my face when I had these nightmares. But his kids . . . no, it's different with them. I keep having dreams about them, ever since this soldier from my past came back into my life. I dream about his son, and how he and I want to be together (in lala land only . . .) and his daughter, and how she sees me after years, and comes up to me, and gives me this huge leaning hug, and though we don't speak much about what happened, we exchange and deep, deep understanding through that hug. When it comes to them and what I might be missing out on by not holding on to that friendship, I cringe. "FUCK NO!" my entire being cries out. But out of all of the people in my life who left, the ones I least expected are showing back up, and they are showing back up hard core. I have to wonder about these . . . .