Took mothers journal to bed last night. I now know every word, can recite every page from memory. Yet somehow there's clues yet to be discovered. There are emotions, thoughts well hidden, that I need to find.
Her father wants to go visit Louis for a week, he's sick again and Frank wants to be there for him. Why Belle should come is a mystery to me, she's a child and wont make Louis any favors by running around and being in his way. They're leaving tomorrow, and I can't decide weather or not I'm glad to get rid of them for a while. Frank has always been a better lover for a distance.
I remember me running around Louis house, his boyfriend patiently reading to me at night while Frank and L sat in the library drinking and speaking in vowels.
What I long thought was Louis last words haven't left me yet, they're like a tattoo in my soul.
( You have to remember Belle my dear, that we are nothing but animals. Animals. No matter how many glasses of wine we drink on pure routine )
4 comments:
i doubt it that your mother would have written "she's a child", i guess no mother would write that in her diary as it is most obvious to herself, especially a mother like you used to describe yours would not bother noticing or even reminding herself. just a little remark from a reader.
but i really like your fiction otherwise
since I wasn't a "child" in that sense, when she wrote it I have to say that you're way off making assumptions that won't hold.
It was an insult from her part, written down and passed on so that I would read it years later, and feel the exact same pain as I did then.
but thanks An, I LOVE when people tell me I lie, because Ive spent most of my life telling lies.
You know how I feel, The problem with thinking is the not knowing for sure until you get schooled. Only one truth exists and that is belief. The rest is questionable at best. Can you believe that I am here? I believe you are, so therefor; I am not alone. I am grateful to not be alone. Perhaps Anonymous is grateful too. There is room for even the weakest of us, here. Its good that you let Anonymous have their 15 min. for some that is as good as it ever gets.
Love you, Belle and get rid of the diary, its toxic.
M.
those last words are quite amazing
and wise.
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