121.

i had to get rid of my other computer. On it, were a series of photos, as well as some other things, im sure.

i have 121 photos left. labeled: Pics Copy2, because I guess the first batch did not include the entire set.

I have 121 photos and blurry, dimming memories. I have court papers and a file of letters that I eventually stopped writing because she said they were silly, or inadequate, or both. They were. I guess. As am i, most of the time: silly and inadequate.

but stick me in front of an equation, and im a star! I used to believe in that because its what i knew. The game is different now, at the Ivy. I questioned even that for a time; I questioned the only thing I thought I ever knew, for a time. All it took, continues to take, is really hard work. I made the cut last semester, honors, despite the momentary, fully invasive, doubt. This semester is much more trying; and i never sleep or see my friends. Sometimes I forget what I look like. This morning I was surprised to see my reflection (me, really?) in the bathroom mirror on campus. it was the first time i looked in the mirror today.

even I am getting tired of feeling so sorry, staying so sorry, so immobile, about the entire thing. But I am afraid that even really hard work wont make it all pan out. I am afraid that whatever I do will not produce adequate results.

my mother stopped my father from seeing us (i think?). there were court orders and vicious words, invective deeds. he wrote letters, too. i cherished every one and had forgotten that until now.

and then there is the question of the damage that could result. will i grow weary again? will the 600 miles and 600$ on top of the drive and the schoolwork and julian and me on my own this time be too much. I feel like it...i feel like i know what i see in julians eyes, like i know why sometimes he cries over silly, silly things.

The other day: he asked to play with his new friend Austin. I made friends with a girl who has a little boy close in age to Julian. We went out for his birthday and they hit if off well. When I told him Austin was staying home with his daddy he cried. I could not console him. Tears were streaming down his face, tears tears tears.