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Feb. 16th, 2005 02:56 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
spankerellaI feel kinda funny right now.
This old and dear friend of mine hunted my work down on the web and read the first chapter of "In Shadowside" that ComStar says I can have up. She liked it. She said I have a gift... and I didn't realize until JUST NOW how seeing those words would affect me. I got F-ing WEEPY about it. Goddess forbid any one of my family members actually read my stuff and like it. That'd be waterworks, I'm sure. I have never felt like I measured up to anyone. Oh sure, I'm a fire-breathing dragon on a good day, but I'm insecure like crazy when it comes to my own writing. Why do you think I'm dragging my feet about posting my, oh, 100 or so poems on my site? Yes, I write poetry too. I've got TONS of it. Buckets full.
But back to the point. Not to go all cheesy Joss on everyone, but this person is someone who knew me when I was "cookie dough echo". Actually I was "pre-dough, bag of ingredients echo" back when she knew me. This was pre multitude of bad choices, pre serious drinking alcoholica stint, pre bad boyfriends, pre college experience, pre anything that makes me remotely jaded in an interesting way. There were three of us back in those days... and one of us is gone now. And now I'm getting all weepy again. I hate when things sneak up on me and make me sad. See, thinking of Sher made me start thinking of the third of our trio... Nichole, and Nichole isn't around anymore.
I miss you, Nichole. I wish you had lived long enough to see what has become of me. I'm not such a mess anymore, girl. I slowed down a little. I quit partying like it was 1999 all the damn time. I took your suggestion to heart. I got brave. I got skinnier. I finally asked a guy out without dying of embarrassment... and no, he wasn't some Chris K-like "I'm in a band" guy. I stopped with the band guy thing. This one was a SW nerd. I got a tattoo though. You wouldn't know me now. I am bold.... and I'm thinking of going blonde again. Really blonde. Freshman year blonde. I hope you're knowing some real peace that you often didn't get when alive. I miss our friendship.
Nichole was a good friend of mine from high school. She died a few years ago... of lung cancer. She had a unique spirit. She could always cheer me up when I felt bad. When she died we were not as close as we had been... so naturally, I think about her all the time. Especially in May. May was her birthday. She died just before her birthday that year. It blurs for me, I think it was 6 years ago. Might be 7. I was supposed to see her at the party another friend had planned for her that up-coming weekend. She was the first person I ever voiced thoughts on being a writer to. I was half joking and I said, "I could be a writer.", and she looked at me so seriously for a long time before saying "You could do that." And she really BELIEVED it. With her, I could always do anything.
It's funny the things you remember.
Oh goddess, I need to go put my head down now.
*
This old and dear friend of mine hunted my work down on the web and read the first chapter of "In Shadowside" that ComStar says I can have up. She liked it. She said I have a gift... and I didn't realize until JUST NOW how seeing those words would affect me. I got F-ing WEEPY about it. Goddess forbid any one of my family members actually read my stuff and like it. That'd be waterworks, I'm sure. I have never felt like I measured up to anyone. Oh sure, I'm a fire-breathing dragon on a good day, but I'm insecure like crazy when it comes to my own writing. Why do you think I'm dragging my feet about posting my, oh, 100 or so poems on my site? Yes, I write poetry too. I've got TONS of it. Buckets full.
But back to the point. Not to go all cheesy Joss on everyone, but this person is someone who knew me when I was "cookie dough echo". Actually I was "pre-dough, bag of ingredients echo" back when she knew me. This was pre multitude of bad choices, pre serious drinking alcoholica stint, pre bad boyfriends, pre college experience, pre anything that makes me remotely jaded in an interesting way. There were three of us back in those days... and one of us is gone now. And now I'm getting all weepy again. I hate when things sneak up on me and make me sad. See, thinking of Sher made me start thinking of the third of our trio... Nichole, and Nichole isn't around anymore.
I miss you, Nichole. I wish you had lived long enough to see what has become of me. I'm not such a mess anymore, girl. I slowed down a little. I quit partying like it was 1999 all the damn time. I took your suggestion to heart. I got brave. I got skinnier. I finally asked a guy out without dying of embarrassment... and no, he wasn't some Chris K-like "I'm in a band" guy. I stopped with the band guy thing. This one was a SW nerd. I got a tattoo though. You wouldn't know me now. I am bold.... and I'm thinking of going blonde again. Really blonde. Freshman year blonde. I hope you're knowing some real peace that you often didn't get when alive. I miss our friendship.
Nichole was a good friend of mine from high school. She died a few years ago... of lung cancer. She had a unique spirit. She could always cheer me up when I felt bad. When she died we were not as close as we had been... so naturally, I think about her all the time. Especially in May. May was her birthday. She died just before her birthday that year. It blurs for me, I think it was 6 years ago. Might be 7. I was supposed to see her at the party another friend had planned for her that up-coming weekend. She was the first person I ever voiced thoughts on being a writer to. I was half joking and I said, "I could be a writer.", and she looked at me so seriously for a long time before saying "You could do that." And she really BELIEVED it. With her, I could always do anything.
It's funny the things you remember.
Oh goddess, I need to go put my head down now.
*
