Note to Self

October 23rd, 1998

Just got home from the football game, and I’m wiped. After the halftime show, I asked Brad to walk to the concession stand with me for our 3rd quarter rest, but he was too busy flirting with Misty to care about me, so I walked alone. Boys just don’t get it. I swear. I even put on stupid eyeshadow in our school colors just to get his attention, and he looked right over me. Seems like the only way I can get him to notice me is to quote some overdone line from Wednesday’s episode of Dawson’s Creek and get him going in a fake conversation. He’s Pacey and I’m Joey, of course! (everyone knows they’ll end up together...I mean...that’s my guess). Anyway, I feel like my life is full of blah. Blah blah blah. I even had a girl ask me today if I’m a lesbian...all because I cut my hair short. Like Jen’s in Dawson’s Creek. The most daring decision I’ve made all year is to wear my Adidas breakaway wind pants with no shorts underneath -- and that didn’t work out because Amanda thought it would be hilarious to rip them off, and…yeah. Everyone saw my freaking panties. Fifteen sucks.

February 14th, 2003

I hate commercialized love day, especially when I’ve been trying for months to offload a crazy ex-boyfriend who just won’t get the clue. Oh my word. I don’t get it; the more I protest, the more he’s interested, and I just wish he would GO AWAY. Go away. 

In other news, I had this crazy idea to IM Brad...my best friend from middle and high school; the one I “dated” for six weeks and randomly broke up with one Saturday night when he came over to watch TV. Anyhow, I signed into AIM, sent him a message, and waited for a response. It was one of those messages where you read it a hundred times and contemplate not sending it and then push ‘Enter’ anyway and wish AOL had some way of letting you undo it. Well, he responded, and he has a long-time girlfriend, and he’s saving for a ring. How did I mess this up? Fifteen year old me was so freaked out about having a boyfriend that I ran him off, and now all I want is to reunite and some other girl has his heart. I thought the older I got the easier this would get, and that’s a big ole fat lie. Now I’m heartbroken all over again, and it’s my fault. On top of that, I have two roommates who can’t stand me, and all because I just had to move off campus. My parents were right (but I can’t tell them that, so I’ll just sit on that thought until much later). Twenty is just as bad as 15, except my hair is longer and people don’t think I’m a lesbian anymore. 

April 27th, 2008

Today is my 25th birthday, and I got the BEST present EVER!!! A kitten, and I named him Loki. He’s this little gray thing, and purrs really loudly and falls asleep right under my chin if I lie down on the couch for a while. Living by myself hasn’t been so bad, but it’s so nice to have an extra set of lungs in the apartment. I haven’t had a kitten in so many years, I forgot how crazy they could be. He’s crawling around the bottom of the couch as we speak, but I don’t even care because he’s so cute I can’t stand it! Thanks, Mom! I’m so glad she found him and sent his picture to my school email. I was headlong into a grad school assignment when his little face popped up, and when the choice was mine, she knew what I was going to say...YES! I. Love. This. Kitty. 

November 18, 2017

This has, hands down, been the worst day of my life to date. The day I put down my cat of 9 years is the same day I pick up my strung out husband after he overdosed in his car (well, my car, but that’s another story). It’s 1am, and he’s asleep in the guestroom, and I’m locked in the bedroom emailing a friend’s husband, an attorney, on what I need to do to file for divorce. What kind of cruel irony is this? I waited until 33 to tie the knot and boy did I make a decision that would forever change my life. Six months into this knit-up mess, I find out my husband is a drug addict, con man with numero uno as his target. I gave the man a chance, but I didn’t sign up for this. He refuses help because he’s not ready, and I can’t stick around to find him dead...which apparently paramedics did tonight, but those jerks sent him home with me. They told me not to let him fall asleep...what? Don’t let him fall asleep? I teach school. I’ve never had detention, and you’re sending my drug addict husband home with me, and I’m supposed to play hall monitor to keep him alive. Nope. Uh-uh. I keep having to wipe the freaking tears from my eyes to write all of this down, and all I can focus on is how I’ve turned into everything I didn’t want to be. How does a good girl like me become entangled in this gargantuan mess? This is too much. But I’m going to be ok...I’ll look back on this and laugh one day, right? Isn’t that why people keep diaries? If I don’t write it down, I’ll go nuts; no plans to come back and read this but gotta get it out somehow. Unbelievable. 

April 14th, 2018

April is in town, and right in the middle of our free Red Robin burgers, he called. Crying. He was crying, saying he took himself to the hospital; he’d had enough; he wanted help, and they turned him away. Why? Why would they turn away a human begging for help? April is a former caseworker, so we drove to his location and picked him up to take him to the emergency room. I can’t get the image of him out of my head: super thin, dirty, confused (he didn’t even know what day it was). Through all of that, his giant bright blue eyes were still shimmering. I miss the real him, and this is probably about to go down as the second worst night of my whole life. Dropping him off, putting my foot down and hugging him goodbye was so hard. I’ve cried about it since we got back to my apartment. April has called almost 30 facilities, and no one has a bed; she’s now playing on her phone in the recliner, and I’m lying in bed staring at the ceiling fan. How did all of this happen? I hope he straightens himself out and has a good life. I’ll always love him. 

July 16th, 2018

I cannot believe that my parents have been talking to my ex-husband for months now. He’s been emailing me, but I didn’t realize because I’d blocked his email address and sent them to spam. I’m sitting in the recliner in my tiny apartment reading all of them, and it reminds me so much of the person I met. He’s had days to go outside and take a walk, meet new people, reflect on his life, and I was the first person he wanted to tell when he started doing well or feeling bad. That’s all I ever wanted. I didn’t want to split up, but I had to. No one realizes that that night back in November, I gave him the chance to go to a long-term program -- I told him I’d wait on him; everyone has problems --- he wasn’t ready, and I couldn’t make him. Divorce wasn’t my ultimatum but a lifesaver. 

January 1st, 2020

The house is coming along, but man this place is full of projects! The cats love all the windows, and they love having daddy back in their lives. I love it too. He’s on the couch using our shared computer to finish up some schoolwork ahead of the week, and he’s drinking what is probably the 5th cup of coffee this morning! Life isn’t perfect, but we’re making it; we’ve certainly found out who our real friends are in all of this. “Ash, what are you doing?” He just asked me this as I’m stopping to write between adding ingredients to the homemade brownie batter on the counter. “Um, nothing much. Just making some dessert...you know me; always wanting something sweet!” He just finished on the computer and is shutting it all down, I’m sure to come pick at me and probably stick his finger in the batter just to ensure I won’t be giving any of the brownies away :) He reaches behind our little black and white cat who is currently standing right in his face -- “she likes her hammies rubbed.” I roll my eyes, then as he looks over at me with those giant bright blue eyes, he says very calmly, “Ash. I love you.” “I love you, too,” I say with a sheepish smile. And then I think to myself, “you saved my life, too.” 

By: Ashley Freeman