When A Friend Is Grieving

I want to message her every day to tell her I love her.

I want to message her every day to say if there was anything she needed, let me know.

I want to message her every day to tell her how amazing she is and that she is the legacy of her parents who I've never met.

I want to message her every day.

But I don't.

I message her to tell her I love her.

I tell her I think about her daily, and that she need only to think of me when she has the capacity.

I tell her I'm here, and that she doesn't have to be here until she's done being every where else she needs to be.

I tell her I can talk about my strange romance if she wants a distraction.

I tell her my pay weeks.

I tell her she can give me the seen or leave my messages unopened for as long as she wants.

Then I leave it.

I want to message her every day.

The Point: Outsider At Home

I'm trying to write about my recent visit to Samoa.

I'm trying to write about the feeling of returning home but also feeling like a foreigner and a tourist, looking at Samoa as an outsider.

I'm trying to write about feeling nostalgic for a place I don't recognise anymore.

I'm trying to write about I've thought of Samoa as home but when someone asked me, where are you from? I answered, New Zealand.

I'm trying to write about how I feel like I belong in Samoa, without having to prove anything, but also that in order to feel like Samoa is home properly, I have to give, serve, tautua.

I want to give, I want to go back, I want Samoa to be familiar again.

I want to know Samoa and I want Samoa to know me too.

I'm trying to write all of this... so here is my brainstorm.

Some Thoughts 005

1. I want to start to forgive myself. Whenever I read an old blog post, or see a social media post for x years ago, I cringe and hate my old (younger) self. I become so ashamed about how ignorant I was. I was too eager, too blind, too sure, too everything. I find it hard to even read over some thoughts I used to have. But when I'm hating on younger Laura, I'm also hating on current Laura. Because although I'm not the same person I was, that person is still a part of me. And I need to forgive them for being who they were with the information they had at the time. I need to forgive myself. Because the alternative, what I'm currently doing, is not helping me grow. 

2. Suicide is a thing I want to read more about. Not how to commit it (although I do have some days where I wish for it), but the wider social patterns regarding it. I want to read stats, and person stories, and "suicide prevention" guides, and words from academics, faith leaders, politicians, and people who've lost a loved one/s. I want to paint a bigger picture that's beyond my own dark thoughts.

3. Lately I've been enjoying readings people's #AppreciationPosts on social media. I used to read them and roll my eyes at the wall of text accompanying a photo, thinking that people are so desperate to project a life worth envying that they show off the markers of a happy life while actually feeling deeply discontent and insecure about their lives. Maybe that's the case, maybe it's not. But feeling that way about them ruins my life and my day. So instead, I read with the lens that people are so overwhelmed with genuine gratitude that even after expressing their appreciate with the people around them (incl. the ones they may be grateful for), they still feel a burning desire to share it online. Maybe they are, maybe they aren't. But it makes for a more enjoyable scrolling time for me. 

Do I need a ~why~?

That's it. That's the post.

A Dream From 2017

So I had a dream on Friday 10 November, 2017 and when I woke up, I wrote down everything I remembered in a notebook. I came across it yesterday as I was cleaning my junk and wow it was a trip re-reading it. I didn't remember from it so I was at the edge of my seat.

It took me on such a ride and I want to share it with you here. There's a post script at the bottom, that I wrote in my notebook after writing down the dream.

Content warning: mention of rape 
(I did not dream of the assault).

~

There are three characters I can remember. A girl (G), a boy (B), and the boy's baby brother (Bby). G and B start out as early-teens and Bby between 4 and 6 years old.

G and B are good friends.

G is always at B's house and so always helps B look after Bby.

Bby gets really attached to G, G is really nurturing. Bby starts to look at G as a pseduo-mother (I never see B's parents).

B's riiiiiiich and has a really flash house.

One day, G has to move out of town. It comes as a surprise to B and he is devastated and angry. He begs her not to go. G is crying and says she has to. Her mum's work is urgently pulling them both away. B is very sad but understands - he knows something Bby doesn't. They hug goodbye.

Years pass and G moves back.

G goes to B's house and B's so happy to have her back. G's heart becomes full when she sees B.

Bby is furious and hates G for leacing. Yells at her - WHY DID YOU LEAVE. He feels betrayed like he was abandoned by a parent (does B and Bby not have parents? Where's the $$ from?).

G tries to apologise and is crying. B steps in and tells Bby that it's not G's fault she left. It's not G's fault.

B asks G, are you sure you're okay with moving back into town? Yeah, I guess, G thinks. We have no other option.

B gives G a ride home (w/ Bby). First time we'll see G's house.

Bby and G are talking in the car (lambourghini-esque - hovers). Bby asks G if G can show her all the cool entertainment stuff ("boxes") when they get to her house. Bby is excited to finally see it.

G answerr, who it's something I can show you? It's all here *taps head, indicating imagination*.

Bby doesn't get it, B smiles.

When they arrive to the house Bby (and I) are shocked. I'ts a cruddy rundown apartment complex. Is G... poor?

G's mum is a cleaner at the local high school (where G goes). They moved back cos cleaners were becoming redundant everywhere they tried to live. They couldn't afford a place to live. he (it feels like an urban-hometown?), the school gave her her job back out of loyalty, she's from there and run-down accom is free. So they came back.

They moved away because G was rape. But several people -- high school boys, teachers, and others.

When G told her mum, her mum was like fuck this town, let's go. But life outside the town was HARD. They only they could be out there, was to be homeless.

So G's mum aplogised to G and said I think we have to go back. G understands. G's silver lining is at least B's there.

She told B about the rape before she moved away. He was surprised they came back. Being super rich, he didn't understand how life could be so hard for the super poor (G never told him that part of her life). He knew he was richer than her, but he didn't realise how their poverty restricted where they could live, choosing between a cruddy house in the town of rapists or homelessness.

He is in love with G. G is in love with him. He doesn't know how to tell her, ask her out, not wanting to pressure her - not from another guy. G want to love him too, but doesn't know how. She scared all she can give is come ugly morphed empty something.

She thinks B deserves the best and is scared she can't give him that.

Is she only told him that -- he would reply, the love you already give me and Bby is so much and it's so beautiful. I don't want to ask more from you. I just want permission to love you the same way I always have, and some more. I don't want to force you to accept my affection if it makes you feel unsafe in any way.

~

This dream felt very short. Came in unfinished flashes/scenes. Sometimes I'm G - crying, begging Bby for forgiveness. Sometimes I'm a third person observer.

I woke up crying. I cried when writing this.

As I was writing, details became clearer, made more sense.

Am I truly remembering? Or am I making it up when awake? Adding and changing it as i'm remembering?

But then, why shouldn't I? The dream is in my head, I can change the story however I want...

Just Some Thoughts 004

1. Lately I've been having dreams where I have a romantic partner. They're mostly boyfriends with one girlfriend (one partner per dream, very monogamous). When I wake up, I feel that I've broken up with them and I have to adjust to life without them. Except when I'm awake, the memory of them fades quickly and I begin to miss a blurry impression of a person. I mean, they were never a person to begin with... but still. I'm currently in that glum mode where I wished I had a romantic partner. To lightly brush my back as they walk past me in the kitchen, or greet me with a forehead kiss before launching into talking about the hellish day they've just had. Or someone to caress my hair while I cry about the overwhelming sense of inadequacy that visits me weekly.

2. As I get older, I become less and less concerned with what my tAsTe in music, tv, film and other at pop culture says about me. I used to be so proud or embarrassed about what aligning my interests with certain things communicates to others about who I am. I simply care less (not not at all... yet). The more time spent with obsessing about how my interests shape my identity, the less time spent enjoying/reflecting/analysing/replaying/rereading them.

3. I have a hard time saying no. So I lie and say yes, then disappoint people.

Just Some Thoughts 003

1. I'm am endlessly grateful to my dad for prioritising touch typing as a skill I had to learn as a child. He would make me take typing tests and exercises and would monitor my words per minute. I found it so tedious and weird that he was so obsessed with this skill that was only given cursory consideration by my teachers. Thank. you. father.

2. I'm trying to be better with money and boy oh boy is it a journey. I'm currently on my 6th attempt of a budget, tweaking expense lines, being a bit more honest about where my money is going, and extending the time frame to a year, to see a wider context of my future spending. But man, the first crucial and painful step, is simply to look at my previous spending. Just looking at it, really looking at it... hurts. But to solve the problem we must see the problem as clearly as possible. And looking at all the mindless food and uber spending. Well. It's not pretty. But it's a start.

3. I was looking after my niece the other day and there was a distinct moment where I was looking at her and I felt an overwhelming sense of an indescribable s o m e t h i n g. And I thought, oh dear, is this how this begins? I love taking care of my sisters' children and have zero interest in having my own children. I am though, interested in becoming a step mother.