| [ |
mood |
| |
overwhelmed |
] |
| [ |
music |
| |
Madonna "Something to Remember" |
] |
Hi! I told you I'd be back. I ain't no liar, beeyotch.
Okay, you know how much I love that feeling like there's so much to do, and I don't want to do any of it? Well, praise Jesus, it's back! Without further ado, here's the list of shit I have to care about. No real duesies this time around, but nonetheless a flock of winners, here we go:
-French class- Tissue Paper Project, Crazytalk thing
-Stats- Final project
-Am. Problems- Make up press conference thing, quiz
-English- for the love of God, READ
-Musical- Get all that done
-Drama- Prepare awards, senior speech
-Fill out Old Navy application and maybe even turn it in!
-Get change turned in
Yay, and hopefully it will all be done by the time graduation rolls around. Fat fucking chance. Oh well, I don't have much to talk about other than it's Mother's Day and I really haven't gotten my mommy anything besides the fact that I am writing her a letter almost as we speak...
Okay, I'm done with that letter. Here it is...what my mom needs to hear from me:
Mom,
I know this is incredibly goofy to write this on a computer, but come on, you know me, I’m a stickler for talking and writing things out as fast as I can. I’m pretty sure it has something to do with being crazy. I bet that’s in the genes (ha).
Well, where to begin. Mommy, you’re absolutely the greatest person in my life, and you always have been. You’ve been consummately supportive and there for me, and through it all, you’ve proven to me the power of understanding. My interest in psychology and acting and poetry is no doubt a product of your raising me, considering you’re the one who raised me in that sort of “get out of his way” fashion and allowed me to blossom and grow and understand on my own. You’ve also been open-hearted and even during my most ridiculous times, you were able to sit back and laugh with me. Mom, you’re a constant reminder to me of the power of connectedness, and that’s not a power I will ever take for granted (hell, I write college essays about it).
Also, and of course this is completely old news, you were a necessity to me this year during my mother of an identity crisis. The night before my DePaul audition, mom… I couldn’t have felt more abandoned and alone and lost and hurt. I had NO idea what to do with myself that night. I couldn’t journal, I couldn’t talk to anyone, and I certainly couldn’t begin to understand how I felt. In other words: the worst evening of my life, bar none. Which definitely sucks, because before that, you and I got Starbucks and you bought me Burger King (still a thrill after all these years). It was during a trying time such as this that I returned to my instinct. My instinct was to talk it out with someone who would be there, someone who would make me remember there’s a light at the end of the tunnel. Thank God you didn’t have a meeting that night.
Since that day, it’s been an awkward hike uphill that occasionally feels more daunting than it really is. I’ve certainly agonized about the whole thing enough. Certainly lost enough sleep. Certainly did all I could to reconcile. But then I remember what I’ve gained since that terrible online conversation where the friend I trusted most suddenly laid it out on the line and built me my own personal hell: I’ve remembered the people who have been nothing but nurturing and loving in my life-long search of self-discovery and self-acceptance. And there you are, mommy.
Frankly, I’ve spent too long a time in survival mode, and I think I’m finally getting out of that frantic, spastic state. I owe that transcendence to many things but most importantly to our frequent discussions. Looking back on senior year, the things I’ll cherish most are my times with my friends (the best on Earth if you didn’t know), my times onstage during drama where I got to be expressive, powerful and (through a role) undeniably myself, and of course, our chats. I’m sure all the crap I’ve gone through this year will help build be a sturdy backbone for my college years. Maybe it will get me a free donut someday. Wishful thinking. You understand.
Anyway, I’m sure you know all of this. You’re perceptive like that. Also, I mentioned to you before that I was watching an Oprah show (because I’m that cool) about alcoholic people and how they’ve got problems and all that…what I failed to mention is that during the show, I couldn’t believe how sad some of the situations were…an alcoholic parent in denial who didn’t realize her effect on her children, an alcoholic wife who didn’t mind alcohol ruining her marriage…and then those things reminded me of how strong you are, mommy. Also, I’m not the only one who’s noticed that…all my friends love you and respect you and know that you’re a prime reason I’ve got self-esteem and motivation and an indefinable liking for Carly Simon. As one friend of mine wrote in her online journal: “I was talking to Louis today about how amazing I think his mom is...and I really do. Mrs. Virtel, my Lord. She came out of all her problems with a loving husband and a wonderful family and an awesome perspective on the world. I could never ask for anything more than to be that strong.” Mom, you’re so powerful, loving, generous, and committed to the things you love. You’re a beautiful person, and you bring out the most beautiful parts in the people around you. You do it all through being yourself, and the fact that you can just do that, be yourself and embrace yourself, is an amazing thing and an amazing gift to the rest of the world. I am certainly humbled to be in the presence of your crossword-crunching self (that’s right, humbled…we all know that takes a lot with me).
So take it from someone who’s learned a thing about love in the past year: your presence in my life is utterly irreplaceable, and you will always inspire me and bring out the best in me. I thank you for that, I thank you for embracing yourself so that I could embrace myself. I’ve still got a lot of growing to do, and that sounds like a lot of fun knowing how awesomely you’ve grown. I love you mom, forever will you be a super-goddess.
Love,
Louis.
Sigh. Maybe we can take a trip to Starbucks too. Anyway, I'm out for now, happy mother's day, respect your mom, show her what today's all about. Later.
Louis.
|