Diana Kurniawan

May 20, 2010

 

To the Forever Gorgeous Seth Meyers of Saturday Night Live,

 

I wrote a little today, Seth. I wasn't sure what to do. I've been in this existential crisis all of my life. I wish my Dad was rich and I was a Princess and my Mom loves me. I haven't hugged my Dad for a very long time. If there was one thing I wished for in life, it's more Dad hugs.

 

I wanted to know what it felt like to have a normal childhood, and a normal high school experience. I kept thinking I should be blamed for everything but that wasn't true. Sister McGeady told me that not everything was under my control. 

 

I wanted to know what it felt like without depression or trauma. My life felt like one giant roller coaster and I was unstable for most of my life. I sometimes wished I did have the baby. I wanted to know what it felt like to be pregnant and have a healthy baby delivery, but that would put me in poverty and my Dad won't be happy. 

 

You know how people look back and they have regrets? I often look forward and I feel hopeless.

 

I had a thought that I would be in deep trenches all of my life, and I even had a nightmare that I would be 46 years old, working retail, not married, no kids, no retirement, and a spinster forever. That was the dream I had, that I was a failure and everyone knew and everyone was happy because they did much better than me in life. I dreamt that I was the loser that everyone labelled and hated. I saw that in my future, and I couldn't help but sob and felt these shattered pieces of my heart crumbling down to the ground, and life as I knew it was over.

 

What would you say to me, Seth? Do you think I still have a future? Do you think I'd be stuck in that rut forever and to be working retail and looking down on myself all the time, because I never amounted to anything? 

 

I now appreciate my Dad so much more, because he never wanted the life he was sentenced and I didn't think it was his fault that he became an alcoholic. I felt he was trying hard and things had a glass ceiling. All the retail workers at WalMart, Target, T-Bell, McDonalds, KFC, Home Depot, who worked their shift for a career in their retail jobs deserved better. I surely hope for each of them to have a family, and to have their situations in life worked out and I asked Sister McGeady to help me lift them up in prayers for miracles to happen. To tell you the truth, I am proud of the retail workers, because they're earning a living and not letting themselves turn to depression or homelessness or wellfare and hand outs. They're working and a lot of them are great at helping others. I love retail workers. They deserve the best things in life. I wished for each of them to be blessed and to prosper and to have the benefits and retirements they deserved. They've earned it and they're working honest jobs. Props to all retail workers.

 

As for me, I got hurt, Seth, and now I'm a part of the statistics. I promised myself to pick myself up. To get out of Covenant House after the therapy was over, and for Sister McGeady and the staff to finish helping me realize my own potential and to give me skills to care for myself. Sometimes I wished for my Dad to give me a pep talk. I miss that so much.

 

Seth, to tell you the truth. I want to write. All of my life, I wrote to someone, and I have been writing to you for at least as long as high school lasted so far. Perhaps my world won't stay the same and I would experience a push from angels. I won't wait for it, I will just keep working. Everything I've enjoyed was a creative art, every fan letter, every poem, every story, and every heartfelt confession. I sure hope to God that this works out for me, and if retail or even T-Bell would be my future, I'd walk the journey.

 

Sister McGeady told me to cut up pictures from old magazines to make a collage for her, of what I want for my life. I took a poster board and cut up pictures of New York, Paris, London, and the ocean. I took pictures of someone's writings, famous books, and cups of tea with cupcakes and some lemon tarts. I pasted them on the poster board and had pictures of a small house and a small dog with me and a picture of my Dad that I pretended I had. On the bottom, I wrote....keep going and keep moving, the world is my oyster. I also wrote...Dad and me, forever.

 

Seth, do you think that's good enough? Or do you think I'd be that 46 years old woman who would be single with no kids and working retail. If I was that woman, would you care for me less?

 

I hope I get to become a writer one day, because that's what I want to be.

 

Praying,

WishesOoohWishes.

 

May 13, 2010

 

To the Forever Gorgeous Seth Meyers of Saturday Night Live,

 

Seth, I figure it was his smile, Jack's, and his puppy dog eyes that got me, but his face and our kisses were inside my dreams. I'm not sure if it should be called a nightmare because he assaulted me, but I'm worried that I won't ever meet anyone who would love me because of the assault. Joey asked me all of these questions and we had a yogurt and milk conversation at the cafeteria after therapy.

 

"Why do you like him?" asked Joey.

 

"He's historical, at least that's what he told me," I answered.

 

"Define historical...who was his Dad?" asked Joey, taking a dollop of yogurt on his spoon into his mouth. "This is all pro-biotic, right. So I'm going to at least fart with this?"

 

"He said his ancestors created the first telescope," I replied. "I think you'd go to the bathroom after three hours at least. Don't worry, you're going to lose weight. We'll make it a goal."

 

"What? He's one of the Three Wisemen from Ancient Middle East?" asked Joey, flabbergasted.

 

"What? I think Jack was part English and the other part Italian," I said.

 

"But......oh okay, are you sure Italians weren't making pasta during that time? It could be true," asked Joey.

 

"He specifically said, TELESCOPE!" I said, frustrated. I was worried and annoyed because I had to rehash what Jack and I spoke about in Breckenridge during our first sexual experience. It was so romantic, the stars were outside and we looked out of the window and he spoke about his ancestors.  "Jack said his ancestor found a meteor and that's how his great great great great great great great great grandfather knew it was going to be epic."

 

"Do you really believe him? I think he was trying to get into your panties," said Joey. "You're blind aren't you?"

 

"Why do you say that?" I asked.

 

"You're pretty, Mary," said Joey. "It would take a special person to be with you, someone with a very attractive personality and charm and heart. But, you've sold yourself to easily."

 

"My Dad is not exactly historical and I work at T-Bell," I answered.

 

"It's the quality, Mary. Not just the money, and I admit, it helps, but girls with bad hearts have money just the same," said Joey. "A lot of them call me Fat Joey and I'd oblige to their name calling and believe it's comedy, but it's bullying. You're not like them. You actually wanted to be my friend."

 

"I'd love you even if you're on a wheelchair," I said. 

 

He took my neck and clenched it and pretended to choke me, and said, "Stop that shit!"

 

"Oh Sorry....just sayin, I'd be your friend even when things are worse," I said. 

 

"YOU'RE HOMELESS!" said Joey. I shrugged my shoulders. He shook his head and finished his yogurt. "Besides, Jack is still a rapist."

 

"An Elite Rapist," I said. 

  

"King David, a King, raped a woman because she took a damn shower. His son, Ammon, or Amsterdam, who was also a King, raped Tamar, and she was just some girl with a bowl of soup. King David later wrote the Psalms, but he got killed and eaten by dogs, and his psycho son got killed by Tamar's brother, Absalom," said Joey. "They will have what's coming. Let me tell you that! And it don't matter who their ancestors were, it's all coming to him."

 

"Wow....you're smart, Joey," I said, in awesome wonder of Joey's biblical knowledge.

 

"Mary, you've gotta get deep therapy and heavy therapy," said Joey. "Do you know there are worse things that could have happened to you? Like being trafficked for a drug cartel for instance. There are crazier things in the world you know. It's the heart that makes a man, not his bloodline."

 

Since that moment on, I realized Joey and I could talk about anything. Not only because he would be honest to me, but also he would be a positive support for my mental health. Truthfully, I've never met anyone who became homeless because he was fat, but Joey told me the truth, he was kicked out by his Mom because she couldn't feed him anymore. It was that brutal.

 

There were other kids with sexual assault and other violence as the primary cause of their circumstances, and I wished I never had to witness it, but it's real, Seth. I was one of the many. 

 

YYYYOOOOUUUGGHHHUUUURRRRTTT,

WishesOoohWishes.

 

 

May 14, 2010

 

To the Forever Gorgeous Seth Meyers of Saturday Night Live,

 

Seth, to be honest, I think I'm insane. Who would run away from home? There was a comfortable bed and a fridge with food, although not much, but there were some burritos in there.

 

Some days, I wished I knew what I was doing in life. Other days, I wished I knew if my Mom thought of me when she abandoned me and my Dad. He called this morning and I accepted the call and spoke with him inside the administration office. 

 

"Come home, Mary," he said.

 

"I'm not sure if you really want me as your kid anymore," I replied. 

 

"Why do you think that?" he asked.

 

I was silent. I heard breathing for several minutes, and my Dad finally said, "I will call you back, soon. Just stay chaste and remember your rights and wrongs." He hung up afterwards.

 

Truthfully, I didn't know my Dad knew right from wrong. I felt like I was being the parent and I was helping him straighten things out. I wondered if he thought it was right to drink six beers in three hours after work in the evenings. I wondered if my Dad thought of me when he numbs his pain, and I wondered if my Mom wanted me when she lived in that house with my Dad.

 

I wondered if I was the child they wanted. That's how I felt growing up because my parents faught all the time that I wondered if they really wanted me in the first place, or if I was an accident and they didn't have a choice. I felt like the black cat or the black pig or that white owl that everyone saw and talked about after someone died. 

 

I ended up crying underneath the table, and Sister McGeady came to the help me.

 

"Get up, Mary," she said, her head poking out in my vision.

 

"I don't want to go home," I answered.

 

"You're a smart girl, you can start over and renew your life," she said. "You can stay here as long as you need."

 

No one ever told me I was smart. I had to be homeless to find out I was smart. 

 

"Am I really smart, Sister?" I asked her.

 

"You chose us, instead of drugs, or exploiting yourself, so yes, you're smart. There are worse cases than you," said Sister McGready. 

"Everyone told me that. There are worse things than me. In my world....I am garbage," I said to her, my tears and snot dripping all over my chin.

 

Sister McGeady said something that helped me, Seth, and I never knew this was true, because I thought of Jack when she said it. "No humans can be garbage," said Sister McGready. "Garbage is for dead objects only. Living things, breathing things, humans, animals, and plants cannot be garbage. It's a common misconception."

 

I realized she was right. There was a lift to my shoulders and the burden over my back broke to pieces and evaporated in the air. I felt free and justified to speak to her.

 

She looked into my eyes, and told me something that I realize was true about myself, but I never knew, "Girls have the royal bloodline. Boys cannot have give birth, but girls can. It's boys who needs girls and it's men who need women. From now on, that's the world you live in. You're ROYAL."

 

There was a strength in me, that made me realize I was needed in this world. I was irreplaceable and important, not because I can give birth, but because I felt stronger than Jack. I felt stronger than the rapist. For once, I felt stronger than rape.

 

"I've accidently aborted, Sister McGeady," I confided in her.

 

"I know, but it was the STI that made you do so, it was a choice made for you," she said. 

 

"I still felt hurt and I think it was my fault," I said.

 

"It's not," said Sister McGeady. "You'll have to repeat it over and over again. The trauma is bigger than you right now. You couldn't handle it, but slowly you can heal from it. You have to rely on the system to help you. It wasn't your fault."

 

I didn't realize that there was such a thing as "the system." I still didn't know much in this world. I didn't know about the system, how the system worked, what the system entailed, and how to help myself with it and through it.

 

"Such things as healthcare, well being, mental health, stability, financial freedom, and so many things isn't in the radar of any teens, and teens aren't known to have the knowledge at these points in life," said Sister McGeady. "Age makes a big difference. You are too young to handle the level of sexual relationship you had. There wasn't enough guidance involved, and your mind and emotions didn't grow as mature yet to handle that. Then there was the trauma, your body was too young. I don't blame you at all. It wasn't your fault."

 

"Is this all my Dad's fault?" I aked. "I don't want to blame him for everything, and I already blame him for his addiction. And it was Jack who raped me."

 

"I want to make sure you're going to learn while you're here," said Sister McGeady. "Not only about unconditional love, but of a life that's perhaps new, out of the box, fresh, and safe."

 

"I want to learn, Sister," I told her. She nodded, and wrote a number, one million, on a piece of paper.

 

Seth, I wish you could see her, in her jeans and sweater, Sister McGeady was magical.

 

 

Going on a field trip,

WishesOoohWishes.