| Jess... |
Mar. 4th, 2009|12:05 am |
I don't have it in me to write up about Jess again. I'm copying from LiveJournal.
The thing about Jess last night . . . her cousin left me a voice mail last night. And called me earlier. Jess died. Apparently she killed herself, or that's what I'm told. I didn't ask how. I don't want to know.
I guess in some ways, I pushed her too hard. You can't help people that don't want it. I've known that all along. But that doesn't make it my fault. By the looks of things, she would rather die than make an effort at getting better. That's her choice. I did what I could. What I saw as right.
The part of the story I do know:
She got out of jail and went to her parents somewhere in Wyoming. I'm not sure what she did after that. Apparently she was in rehab and seemed to be doing okay for the week or so that she was there. There were one or two different counties here that were going to go after her for outstanding warrants, I guess and a missed court date a few days back or something. This is just what I was told.
So . . . no more Jess . . . and I'm not entirely sure how I feel about this. We weren't on good terms, obviously. I mean, I turned her in for drugs . . . that would piss ANY addict off, would it not? And then there's me, who didn't want to be around her while she was using. We haven't exactly been close recently.
Jess . . . technically wasn't my girlfriend. The few times we talked about it, she said "it's not like that. Maybe in the future." We might as well have been together, though. Who knows . . . if things had been different . . . but they're not. I can and will accept that. Honestly, she wasn't the one I truly wanted to be with at this point to begin with.
So there was Derek. Then there was Jess. The pessimist in me sees a fucking pattern. And yet, there's a logical part of my brain and in my gut that is insisting that this concept is ridiculous . . . I'm going with my gut and HOPING that it's right. I can't stand to have this keep happening.
I liked Jess before she pulled her shit. I had some kind of feelings for her, obviously. I miss her. I can't say the word 'love' fits in here . . . but . . . I do miss her.
Despite this . . . something's telling me I am not NEARLY as torn up as I should be. Could be shock. Could be sleep deprivation. Could be the fact that she hurt me too deep for me to properly grieve. I don't know.
I'm sorry, Jess. It wasn't my place to help you. But in some ways, you did help me. I am grateful for that, even if I've just barely managed to forgive you.
In other news: I am applying for a job as a playground aide at the elementary school. My dad's sister was all "OH HAVE SHERYL ANNE APPLY FOR THE JOB SHE IS GOOD WITH KIDS". I'm not a big fan of them half the time, but I really do want this job . . . because I really do want to work with kids. When I admitted this to Vandy, she asked me if I wanted children (we talk about this periodically, but it's always a repeat conversation . . . I think we have too short of attention spans to pay attention to details). She never did answer me when I asked why she brought that up.
So . . . I have to bullshit my way through some essay-like questions on this online application. I'm really hoping I get this job. 4 hours a day isn't necessarily BAD and I'd get weekends off. And spring break. And the summer. It could work quite nicely if I budgeted myself right. And I want to eventually buy a car so my dad can teach me how to drive (his car is a piece of shit that I refuse to learn how to drive in). Then if I wanted to, I could drive to see Vandy. If I can do that before Vandy decides that she NEEDS to come up here . . . it'd take away some unneeded stress on her part.
And then I wouldn't have to worry about relying on my parents to take me everywhere. I wouldn't have to walk in cold-ass weather or blistering heat. I wouldn't be afraid of becoming entirely dependent on Vandy when the time comes for us to at least be roommates (that's been a plan of ours for a long time, now). I hate the concept of driving with a passion. But it's necessary, I suppose. I need to work at being more independent, so I will finish learning how to drive. And I will have my own car. Yes. That is the master plan.
Oddly enough, the MAIN motive behind the driving thing is so I can go visit Vandy if I want to . . . or at LEAST meet her halfway. That'd be nice. Crazy? Perhaps. Do I care? Not in the slightest. |
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