Love is grand...have a happy and safe weekend. BF will pick up again Monday!!

June 24, 1993

The first time I wrote in this particular journal it was June 5, 1992. It has been over one whole year since then. Back then, I had six months clean, my relationship (if that is what you’d call it) with Dallas was going sour, and I had no sense of direction and nothing that left me feeling fulfilled.

Now, I have been sober one year and six moths. I am single after going through two more relationships. I am twenty-two weeks pregnant. I have never felt better in my life and I have no idea how it happened. I think the closest I could come to putting my finger on it is that I finally live according to what I believe in. Or maybe, it is just after almost twenty years, I finally believe in something.

For one, I believe in myself. That’s new. I believe in what I am doing. I think it is the right thing for me to do right now. I don’t know how to put it down on paper just right. Pen and ink can’t capture what I think about how I feel because it can not capture what I feel. Isn’t it ironic that the only way I knew in the past to let people know how I felt was to write a poem and now pen and ink won’t do it for me anymore? I must say I am quite pleased with the change.

I still have no idea what I am going to do with my life and all that stuff, but I seem to be happy. I get along well with and appreciate my mom more than I ever have before. I love my child increasingly each day and I haven’t even met him yet. I actually like and enjoy myself. My love life is not too thrilling and that is just how I enjoy it right now. I actually enjoy my singleness. It is easy because I am alone for the right reasons-not with someone for the wrong. Of course I still have my bad days, but, even through the bad days, I feel content.

I was lying in bed the other night trying to imagine how I would feel if I lost Paris to suicide at a later date and getting all upset. I was talking to Paris and told him to make sure to kick me periodically to let me know he was healthy. He must have sensed I was upset and needed reassuring because he started to kick and move around for about 15 to 20 minutes.

It was one of the most beautiful things I have ever experienced. Having this child will be one of the best things I have ever done in this life. I could not even begin to explain the love I had for him while he was kicking me.

I had to write that so I would not forget that in 10 or 20 years.