November 1989

School was tiring. Didn't learn much. Why am I stupid? I'll try harder, I promise.

I'm thinking of quitting smoking, it's fucking up my singing. There's only fourteen days left of school. I wrote Eli a letter in class 'cause there's nothing else to do. I do a lot of thinking in class, too. Maybe that's why my grades aren't that hot. I was thinking how thankful we should be that we're young and healthy. But, why am I so self-conscious? I've written mom three letters in school, which I'll never mail. It's hard explaining to people what happened between my mother and me. I finally talked to that Japanese exchange student. His English isn't very good, but he knows Swing Out Sister, my favorite band. He's cool. He said there are so many pictures of me in the yearbook. Today Bell said that I'm popular. I felt bad because he wasn't popular in high school. The future looks scary. I'm still writing poems and sketching. Dreaming. I hope there's a heaven. I'm pretty sure there is.

I had the wildest dream last night- it was about a cobra and cigarettes. Last night, after I wrote in my journal, Lisa called and asked me to go over since she was sick and alone. So, I got ready and walked to the bus stop. It started to snow. Then a woman in her early thirties came and she turned out to be the coolest. The scene was beautiful- snow falling and two strangers talking at a bus stop while the darkness surrounded them. We talked about life, friends, school, and of course about the ever-infamous weather in Chicago. She told me to do what I want to do in life and make myself happy. That's what I've been saying ever since I got out of the hospital. But, do I really do that? It makes me so happy when people talk to me. But people don't like teenagers. I know it. But it's great being a teenager.

A bunch of us went to Jessie's. We talked for a while when suddenly I got depressed. I don't know why. I think it's Lisa. I hate her. Some people got stoned. I didn't. We were supposed to go to a bar, but I decided to go home instead.

Some people from Loyola came to our school to perform a boring play about drugs. I'm flunking Spanish, History, and whatever else.

Life is strange, yet funny. No one really knows the purpose of it. We're here to learn. Life is a dream and dying is waking up. Heaven is our home. I can't wait to go. I came home and spent the night with dad. It was o.k.

I went to the Assyrian church today because I was asked by my aunt- they needed singers for their choir. It was so boring! My cousins and I sang our hearts out. It was us and a bunch of old ladies. This sucks. Afterward we went to Reza's, a Persian restaurant. I smoked a lot. We talked and laughed about school in Iran and how strict it was.

Did I tell you I found out Thomas is twenty-seven? On the news there's talk about East and West Germany, you know the whole wall thing. I started writing a play today called, "Sixteen Was Hell".

Tomorrow I'm leaving for California. I got ready for bed when a family fight broke out. It was a bad one. I cried and threw things. I don't want to explain. God, I'm unsure about tomorrow. Please help me. I'm feeling very lonely.

Dad drove me to the airport but we didn't talk much because of hard feelings from the night before. Don't ever push it with parents. I got a seat in the smoking section of the plane. When it came time to say goodbye to dad I wasn't sad. We have been together without mom for a year now. We are sick of each other. On the plane a big, fat, old man sat next to me, but luckily he moved to another seat because the flight was almost empty. I wrote Maggie a ten page angry letter. Put on my headphones and listened to Swing Out Sister and smoked. When I got off the plane I could see mom and that man we knew from Turlock. I couldn't remember his name. I didn't think much of it. I walked toward them, smiling. Mom was looking past me because she didn't recognize me. As I got closer I could see her aging beauty. I was glad she had taken care of herself and looked good. If she had looked bad I would have blamed myself. I called out, 'Mom!' That's when she looked at me. She said my name like a question. "Emil?" We hugged. She introduced the man standing next to her as Beluse. We got my luggage and went to the car. During all this I got to know him. He was nice and funny. Mom was looking at me and making me uncomfortable. She'll get used to me, I guess. Mom's car looked different. Beluse had his things in it. In our car. I didn't like that. We stopped for pizza and were back on the road again. Now I was starting to wonder about mom and Beluse. When we got to Modesto he dropped us off at my uncle Fred's house and drove off. It was a beautiful house with two floors. I loved it. In the kitchen while looking through the two-door fridge I asked mom when she was getting married. She laughed. And I said, 'Or, are you already married?' She chuckled. It turns out she is married! To Beluse! I laughed feeling a little stupid because the whole day I'd gone around with a stepfather I didn't know existed. I also found out that they had put my dog, Findi, to sleep. I blame myself, I do. But I didn't cry. So my dog is dead and my mother is married. The weird thing is that she's being so loving and nice. Beluse called a couple times but we didn't go over because I didn't feel like it. Things will never be the same now. That man has my mother. I'll never have her to myself. I like him, but I don't know him. I had to call someone for help. Maggie! She totally understood why I felt so sad. But she's two thousand miles away. I only have myself. Mom's lovey-dovey talk got on my nerves after a while. The memories were painful. But I'm not giving up. Mom says hurtful little things here and there about me leaving her. I wish I hadn't come. It's painful seeing her- watching her walk, sleep, cook, smile, talk. I waited so long for this? Fuck life!

Woke up and looked around the house. It's such a change from our dingy little apartment in Chicago. The weather is beautiful. Mom and I went to the mall where she bought Beluse a watch for his birthday. We're such different people and our lives will never be the same again. We've both changed. Later we went to Beluse's. I really didn't want to and on the way mom and I fought. I told her I hated her and that I had tried to kill myself. She really didn't care. It hurt. Beluse showed me his beautiful cars in the garage. A 1965 Jaguar convertible and a GM. He said he had taken mom for drives in the country and I hated him for it. I played my cds on his beautiful stereo. For a moment I actually found myself thinking about living there with my "stepfather". Is that what he is to me? Is this guy gonna get old with my mother? Does he have her forever? He calls her moosh-moosh, which is an Assyrian term of endearment. I have no idea what it means but I hate it! Mom's really trying, though. And I feel sorry for her. In the car I told her that I didn't love her, but I wish I hadn't.

It seems like mom's brother, Fred and Beluse get along very well and it fucking pisses me off. Why do I feel these feelings? Mom and I visited with some of her Assyrian friends in the area. They congratulated mom on her marriage. Please!!! Beluse's birthday party was boring and depressing. I kept going outside for a smoke. There I talked to myself, cried, and made wishes. Beluse's dog came out with me. I talked to him. I thought of my own dog, Findi. I'm so suicidal. I wanted a gun to shoot my brains out. Being here is worse than Chicago. Where can I go? Back inside Beluse was playing the guitar and singing. Mom kept telling me to smile. Fred's wife Jamie and I went for a walk and smoked. I wanted so much to tell her everything, but I just couldn't. We spent the night and I slept in Beluse's drafting room, among cool models that he had put together.

Feels like I can't reach what I'm trying to grab. Feels like my glue can't hold the pieces together. A friend of Beluse came over and the three of them were talking in Beluse's office about traveling. I sat in another room, turned to the window, and cried. I've got to be strong. Mom and I drove to Modesto and in the car I told her that I've finally made up my mind not to see her again after going back to Chicago. I cried and she told me not to act that way. I looked out the window the whole time and couldn't look at her. I threw my camera on the floor and kicked it. When we got there I got out of the car and ran into the house. I know mom loves me, she is nice to me and kisses me, but I ignore her. Jamie and I sat outside and talked, smoking. She understands because her parents divorced when she was a child. She told me how mom would cry day and night when I left for Chicago, saying, "What did I do wrong?" That mom had plans for us. I wanted to cry when I heard this. Then mom came out and the three of us smoked and talked. Later, mom and I drove back to Beluse's and she talked about her plans to study real estate and learn the computer. Maybe now mom can have the things she's wanted all her life. She wants me to come live with them.

Beluse's mother and I watched TV. Mom and Beluse had a stupid fight. They were in their room for hours. It was silly. In a way it was cute because I could hear him trying to make her smile. Later, mom told me that Beluse feels like he can't touch her in front of me because it would make me uncomfortable. I laughed and told her it was silly.

We drove up to the Bay Area to visit with relatives and celebrate Thanksgiving. Mom and I slept in one bed. She held me and was loving. I love her so much. When we go out I notice that men check her out. She's beautiful.

Beluse has been in the States since high school and speaks more English than Assyrian.

Jamie, mom, and I stayed up 'til two in the morning, smoking and talking. I told them the complete story of last summer. I said that I would never forgive some relatives for their actions during my parents' divorce. Jamie gave me some really good advice that I needed. I got it all out. It was painful, but that's life. And I'm only sixteen. I slept in mom's bed with her.

At breakfast I was kind of upset because Beluse had his arm around mom the whole time. He usually does that but today he overdid it. It's kind of tacky. They're too old for that kind of stuff. One of Beluse's friends joined us and he was really shy and quiet. I felt sorry for him. I hope I'm not like that when I grow up. Mom asked if there was a dish I missed that she could fix, and we went to the store to pick up the ingredients for Bagali Polo (Persian rice dish) and Khurushid Lobya (Assyrian bean dish.)

We were supposed to drive to Beluse's but it rained too hard and we stayed in the whole day. Mom and I packed my things. I can't believe it's over. I don't want to go home.

I hugged mom and Beluse goodbye at the airport. Why did the things that happened happen? Could they have been different? I won't see her again until summer. A letter from Eli in Norway cheered me up. God, stop this pain. You know I'm fragile. I'm growing up and she's getting old. Wait a minute! Why am I doing this to myself? There are so many bright sides. I've had a great life and it's only gonna get better. Everything is cool. No need to feel sorry for myself.

Ms. O'Brien came up to me and told me that I've failed three classes. This means I have to stay after school on Tuesdays and Thursdays. I wore the black t-shirt that mom had borrowed. It smelled like her. Melisa called and I went over there and met her mother. It's funny that Melisa's mother is Assyrian by heritage, because she's totally American otherwise. Melisa and I went to 7-11 and bought a pack of cigarettes and sat in a dark, cold ally and talked. She told me that she has dropped out of college because there are other things she wants to do with her life.

My love life sucks. All I can tell you is that I lost my virginity back in Santa Rosa when I was fourteen!