9:20 p.m. - 12/25/01
she was the sunlight* on ripened grain...she was the gentle morning rain.
The universe gave me a very lovely gift just now- when I woke up from a much-needed Christmas nap, I heard "Going My Way" playing on the television...that's the first movie I skipped out early on to exercise off my "dinner" last year- and it was nice to be able to go downstairs and watch the end of it. Not that I've come full-circle, but I have a theory that all of my life experiences could be drawn as a series of spirals, circles that almost-but-not-quite return to the beginning before continuing the pattern.
I have lots of theories.
I had a theory that I would never return to this journal again, or at least, not for several days because I do that, often, when I'm not willing to discuss something. Well, I'm still not willing to discuss -her-...I'm still not willing to tell everyone, but I need to come here and write it if only so I don't refuse to write anything about my feelings for the next year because I *can't* write what I feel about -this.- (What the hell is she talking about? the readers wonder. No, I haven't been able to say- don't you see me rambling?)
Dear World,
Tracy, my darling roomate and friend from red, died Friday morning in a Wisconsin hospital.
Sara called to let me know just after I finished the last entry. Talking to her the next day has been the only time I could speak on the subject.
And now I'm running away. This is not the type of thing a girl can deal with...even one of so-called atoms.
chord
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