The World Has Changed...

Oh, how my world has changed. Can you believe it has been over a year since I last wrote on here? Do you remember when I was here for the first time? Do you remember who I was back then? Do you remember that pain and sadness that I felt? Today, I come back here to mark the changes, the difference between who I was then, who I was just a year ago, and who I am today. To mark the largest moments that have all somehow come together to make my life what it is now. So listen, understand, and realize that yes, my world has changed and only for the better.

It all started with a delusion... from when I was in 5th grade until the beginning of 9th grade (almost 5 full years), I was lost in a world of angel, demons, forbidden love, sacrifice, and ultimately death. I remember vividly the day it all started and I remember even more so the day it all ended. Almost like waking up from a dream, it was like all of a sudden, I was alive and I didn't know what to do with this new life. I had lived the last couple years waiting for death, just waiting, but all of a sudden, I had my whole life ahead of me. What do you do with this new-found realization as a 15-year-old? I was lost again, but a new kind of lost. I was lost in the endlessness that is the future and honestly, it would have been so much easier, so much less scary to just go back to the delusion. But something inside me told me to keep living, but not for myself, for the future me, for the me tomorrow, for the me now, and for the me that lives 10 years from now. Every day, I would wake up and face the tribulations of life, but then I would say, I am not here for me, I am here for "her," for the me that is not yet me. I found strength in that for a long time, and even now, every once in a while, when things get just a bit too hard, I find strength in the future, in the possibilities that lie there.

Then one day, a classmate told me a bout blogging. You can only guess what resulted. So in the first months of 10th grade, I found a space where no one would see what I write, where no one would be able to judge me, and especially where no one would be able to notice me. You have to understand, all I wanted to do was hide who I was in high school. I was a shell of myself. I "fit in" long enough to get by, and that was about it. That's all that mattered. Hold the pieces together long enough for us to get out of this place. The pieces were my mind, my spirit, and my heart, and the place was school and childhood. I was done with it. I hated recess, hated group projects, and eventually figured out I hated everyone in the school as well, including myself. I didn't like who I was. I was nothing special. I was a liar and more than anything, I wasn't myself. I was a ghost just getting by. So the moment I left I made sure to shed that person and find myself. Everyone says that's what college is about, after all. Within the first month of college, I found me and I couldn't love that person more than I do every single day. She is honest, raw, and open to everyone. She trusts blindly, she is vulnerable, but strong and courageous even when it scares her to be so. She is beautiful and happy because of simple things. More than anything, she is me and I am very happy to have her in my life. She is my best friend and she stands by my side when no one else will. Finding myself was something I could never have done without my blog. Without that outlet, I know I would have given up on the future long ago and i never would have met the me of today.

Now you have to understand, there are a lot of things that happened in my college years that shaped me far more than just this. The first and probably the most painful is realizing that when my grandmother died, I lost the one person that truly understood me. She pushed me to be better than the me from yesterday. She taught me how to forgive and I have my father in my life today because of that. She taught me patience, and without that I wouldn't be the only one in my family that can stomach being around my mother when she could not be more annoying, irritable, judgmental, and prejudiced. She gave me a family life that I can fall back on, a mother that I can bond with, and a father that I love and had lost so many years ago. I miss her everyday of my life. I collect puzzles now because of her. I'll turn into a puzzle hoarder before you know it.

The other thing that happened was a strange blessing. My best friend moved away (as my luck would have it, all of my friends either move or leave eventually so I shouldn't be surprised). Her leaving was hard. I felt alone, sad, and even more lonely than I had been in years. So, in my desperation I go and get a virtual boyfriend. Sounds silly right? I just wanted someone to talk to, but I realized that it wasn't the same. I wanted something real, so I gave online dating one last try. Within just a few days, someone interested spoke to me. We talked, maybe for a week online, then through text. Eventually, by some strange desire, I decided I would go and meet him. Don't get me wrong, this sounds strange even to me, but the moment I saw him walking all awkwardly toward me from across the street, I knew there was just something about him... I can't put my finger on it, but looking back, maybe I just knew? He is the reason I haven't written on here in over a year. He is my medicine, my happiness, and my life. I couldn't imagine being without him now.

I've come to the realization that I suffer from something called PMDD, which just generally means that I have a form of depression that coincides with my menstrual cycle. Therapy isn't something that would help, and in fact, medication is the only way to ease symptoms. I have yet to get this medicine, and in fact, it took me a long time to even consider medication. Chad changed a lot of things for me. He was there through some of my worst symptoms, he helped me as much as he could, and it hurt him to be with me because my depression sparked his depression. But even so, he was still there for me. On one of my worst nights, he even drove the 25 mile distance to pick me up and take me to his place so I wouldn't have to suffer alone. He has been so supportive and strong that I don't know what I would do without him.

He is also one of the reasons I have the job I have now. If I hadn't have met him, I would have never looked for work as far out as I did, and I ended up finding a wonderful job as a swim instructor. I get to teach, swim, and be around children as much as I want and I couldn't be happier right now. I am still pursuing my dream of becoming a successful Graphic Designer, but for right now, this is where i need to be, where I want to be, and where I should be. Things are good and things are hard, but they are all worth it.

I've recently gone on an internship abroad. These have been the most lonely and difficult two months to spend away from everyone I love and everything I know. I've fought hard to be able to get here, but good lord all I want to do is go home. I have two more weeks to go, and they seem to be taking forever to pass, but I know that everything will have been worth it once it is all over and done with. This opportunity has brought me one step closer to my dream, and though it has been more hard and painful than anything I have ever done in my life, I've had Chad on my side the entire time. I'm lucky to have him and I'm lucky to be where I am today.

So yes, my life has changed, the world has changed, and though a lot of it has been exceedingly difficult, it has made me into a person I love and has brought me closer to the love of my life, all the while reaching toward a dream career. I've lived my life without regrets until now, and I plan to continue doing so. I'll probably come back here one day, but for now, I thank this blog for allowing me to move forward and give me the space to be me when no one else would accept me.

Something amazing happened...

It has been a hell of a long time since I've been on here, a hell of a long time since I've left a piece of me here to be read a and seen by all who happen to stop by, but there was something that happened to me, something amazing and almost magical.

Let me go back a bit...

Since my last post, since the pain of loneliness last dug its nails into my skin, into my heart, I had been so down, so lost, and so scared a the future, that I ventured into online dating. Don't get me wrong, I had tried it many times before, had gone on many times before, and each time, I've scrapped it all because it was too scary to meet someone that way. But for some reason, for some unknown and completely amazing reason, I went back there that night, made an account on OkCupid, and within a few days I was found by someone amazing. I mean, just two or so days had gone by, a lot of guys contacted me, but for some reason, when this guy contacted me, there was something different about him. I couldn't quite put my finger on it, but my I have always trusted my instincts and they were telling me to give him a chance. Just a week or so later, after having texted him non-stop since we first chatted online, we met.

I remember the way I first say him, he was just across the street coming toward me, fast-walking as his face tracked where I stood waiting for him. I remember thinking, "He's so cute." When I think about it now, I giggle, because even now, he's still so cute. But that was it, and in the moment that he hugged me, awkward as it was, I didn't feel scared. I mean, of course I felt reserved because I barely knew the guy, and he was moving so fast, I mean, he kissed me right away too. But then I suggested we sit down to have a drink, as we talked, at first about nothing, but then I started to explain how the pace he was moving at made me uncomfortable, and he listened. He listened. He listened. It was like a light went off, or a spark was lit. It was like, after all these years of pouring out my heart to this blog, feeling like I had no one to talk to, I finally found someone who would listen. As that day went on, we just talked a lot, I tripped a lot too, because I was both nervous and just a klutz in general, but it was nice. We even sat down at a bar for a bit, had a drink and chatted too. It was nice, not scary or rushed, just calm and peaceful and easy. After that, we parted ways, and we saw each other as much as we could over the next few weeks, busy as we both were and living so far from each other made it difficult, and I constantly missed him (still do now), but we made it work.

As time went on, I started to realize that he might very well be my "Tristan," the figure and idea in my head that manifests in the form of someone I love and will eventually marry. Being around him, I notice the quirks he has, and the sentiments he gives, they all resemble what I've always asked for. Just everything about him, it's like I've walked into a dream and suddenly my dream guy is standing by my side, making me smile, laugh, feel pretty, and feel supported. I feel like he's the one I could give my life to, the one I could move in with and be together with until the day I die. I miss him all the time, I love him with all my heart, and I finally feel like the whole, the emptiness I've felt all this time has finally been filled. He makes me happy, so very happy.

Which is why I am so afraid of losing him. Whether it be to illness, sudden death, or just because we had an argument, I constantly fear that he will leave. I'm the type to never leave, to stay loyal, but I'm also not the type to chase. If he were to ever want to leave, I would be unable to stop him. I love him so much that if he ever desired to leave me, I would let him go with the hope that maybe he'll be happier somewhere else, with someone else. He's my everything, he's my whole world. He's the one I want to spend my life with, and come 2 or 3 years down the line, if he is still by my side and has yet to propose, I am getting down on one knee and making him mine forever. He's so perfect, even his flaws are perfect. Ever his messiness is perfect. I love everything about him and even though it's only been 3 or so months since the day that I first met him, it feels like I've known him for my entire life.

All this time I've lived in this house, all the times I've stayed somewhere else, no matter the country or the place, I've always felt like I wanted to go home, to my real home. Being with him, I have finally found my home. He is my living dream and the home I've always wanted.

I love you, Chad. I always will. You've made me whole and you own my heart. Please keep it with you forever as I hope to keep yours.

I'm so alone, it's killing me...

What am I supposed to do with this feeling? How do I make it go away? How do I heal what I can't touch or fix? I'm alone, my friends move away, my family doesn't get it, I'm alone. I'm alone, I'm alone! I'm so alone it's killing me. I don't know what to do... dating apps scare me, I don't know how to meet people in real life because I'm too busy to do anything but work, school, and homework. I want to be with someone. I don't want to be alone anymore. My tears won't stop, my head hurts, my body is tired. I'm overwhelmed with thoughts of the future, my work is getting in the way, but I need the money and trying to choose is almost impossible right now. I feel helpless and scared, and without anyone here to help me or to hold my hand, I'm lost and alone and sad beyond understanding. I don't know what to do with myself. Please someone just find me, find me and tell me I'm not alone anymore, because I'm sick and tired of all my friends leaving me, and my lonely life is killing me. Why did they all leave me anyways? Most moved away, some forgot about me, others chose guys over me, and the one that I thought I could live my whole life with, the one I needed the most, she left too. Why do I have to be so alone? Am I cursed to be alone? God I'm tired of this crap. I don't want to be alone anymore! There's nothing I can do though... what do I do? I'm begging... please make this pain stop.

It's like a heavy weight that just won't ease...

It's always been there, always been there beside me, always held me down and told me not to move. It's there, nothing has changed. The only thing that's changed is that now I have a word for this feeling. It hurts. It's lonely. It's empty and full of pain all at the same time.

This feeling however, is not the only thing that's been bothering me lately. Ever heard of Mysophobia? Well... it has slowly become evident to me that I have it. If something I don't trust touches me, I get this almost itchy feeling in my skin, like there's something thick and dirty on my hands and anywhere that something touches me. Some people make fun of it. Others just think I'm "weird." You know what sucks the most? The majority of those two types of people come from the family members I live with.

I think that's been the hardest part about both my issues. My family doesn't see what I struggle through, and it's times like these I wish I had someone to talk to, someone who understood, someone to hold my hand and say everything will be okay. Someone to love me and whom I can love back. Family doesn't feel right. Family has all but lost it's chance I feel. Familial love doesn't seem strong enough now. I need something deeper. Something both physically attached and mentally attached. I know it seems odd, that family it's strong enough, but the way I am now, family just feels forced.

Don't get me wrong, it's not all the time, but for times like these, where I have no where else to go but here. For times where I can't hold back my tears; that's when I need that deeper kind of love. Until then, I will leave a part of me here to remind me of the past, to help me move forward, and to make my future just a bit brighter.

Is this really going to be my life from now on...?

I've felt this way since before the last time I posted here. I've been trying to deal with it; over and over again, relentlessly being attacked by it. It's hard. It's so hard. I cry, I weep, I try to smile, and through my smile, it creeps up again. No matter what I do, no matter how excited I get or happy I might feel, it keeps coming back as though it were a part of me.

And maybe it is. Maybe this feeling has always been a part of me? Maybe that was the reason for my insanity from so long ago, maybe that's why it still has appeal for me, even now. Maybe that's why I keep coming back here, even when I feel like I should have been done with it ages ago. Maybe that's why all my posts seem to have the same feeling behind them, maybe I am just meant to forever feel this way.... Maybe this feeling, this loneliness, this depression, this sadness - whatever you want to call it - is just a part of what makes me, me.

That doesn't mean it feels good though. I feel like shit, all the time. It's been getting increasingly harder to do anything. Homework, cleaning, eating... anything. Everything hurts. Waking up, being with people, working, laughing, crying, having a good time. No matter what I do, I always get home and the first thing I want to do is cry my eyes out because I feel so god-dammed lonely that my heart feels like its being crushed from within my chest. I feel like shit. I want to go to sleep and never wake up again, but you know what? I've felt that way since as long as I could remember....

Maybe there is something wrong with me? Maybe I have depression? Maybe I'm chronically lonely? Maybe this is a mental issue, maybe I feel like shit because of this mental issue? But what does that mean? Do I have to go to a psychologist just so I can be told I'm damaged? Well, guess what, I already knew that. Are they going to give me drugs? I don't want them. I don't care if these drugs are supposed to make me feel better. I don't want drugs to make me feel better, I don't want to run from my problems. I want to face them, get better for good, not for as long as I take this pill or that medicine. I want to be better, not feel better for this one second.

For as long as I can remember, I've always thought that I felt this way because I really was alone. I still think that way. The only time I've ever felt better was when I was with Ashlie. She was my remedy. My healer. My once-in-a-lifetime love. She still is. I love her, I do. That won't ever change. However, I feel like I've been feeling worse and worse since she left. Why? Because now that I've know what it feels like to have someone, now that that person is gone, I can only miss her and feel even more lonely than I've ever been before. School keeps me busy, as does work, but the moment I stop to think, my entire mood withers to an emptiness that seems to have no bottom. It's getting in the way of my studies. I'm having an increasingly harder time trying to get through everything.

So I am here, trying my best to put into word what ails me. It's not working. I can't describe well enough how this emptiness eats away at me, my energy draining as though it were a parasite. I can't tell you with words how much I want physical contact with just about anyone, just so I don't have to feel alone for those small moments in time, but that I won't touch anyone because I don't want to hurt even more later on. I can't paint a picture with these words of how much darkness clouds my vision no matter where I am or what I'm doing. Words don't do this emotion justice. It hurts. That's all I can say. It just hurts; it's endless, emotionless, and brutal. Loneliness hurts... it just hurts, nothing else. Just hurts.

As the loneliness sets it...

It's been a while now since my last post. It's been a while since I've had to force myself to write something here and face the pain I've been feeling. There's very few people who actually hear my voice when I speak, and even fewer who respond. Back in a time of disparity and confusion, of conflict and loss of heart, of pain and desperation, there was truly only one person who heard my voice loud and clear, and responded with as much heart as I had offered out.

She's the one that stands behind me when the world turns scary and cold. She's the force that holds my shoulders high in the face of my fears. She's the one that grabs my hand and tells me to keep trying. She's the one that shows me how to get through the loneliness and the pain that follows close behind it. She was there when nothing else made sense and everyone was killing me. She was there when I was insane and so alone that death was my best friend. She was there when I had gotten the courage to love my dad again. She was the binding force in a heart ready to break into a million pieces. She is the one who heard me, the one that saw me, the one that talked to me, and the one who never gave up on me. She's my grandmother and I'll owe her more than I could ever give back.

I've felt empty since as long as I could remember. An emptiness I don't think even those closest to me truly understand. There's a void in me that I myself may have created in a time of desperate desire for a love I was constantly refused. My friends would always leave me, my family wouldn't try to understand or listen to me, and my mother only fueled the insanity creeping slowly out from inside me. It had started as a simple desire to be loved, progressing into a desire for my "true" family, and finally becoming a delusion I brought to life through sheer will and a loneliness that ate at my very soul. Now that the delusion has ended, every time I feel weak at heart, every time I feel lonely, that desire for love does not cease, and in fact it has gotten stronger with each passing year.

With her death, with the realization that love is out of my reach yet again, I've cast that side of my heart into a dark corner and widened a wound that was already bottomless. My heart is empty, my soul is aching, my mind is weeping, and I'm more lonely than I have ever been. I feel empty. I feel hollow and withered. Even when I try to move on with my life, my mother yet again tries to throw me back into insanity. She is my shackle that tightens the closer I get to her. I need the release I get from going to school or work or just anywhere but here. Right now I don't want to think about her. My mind feels numb, my eyes hurt and I'm tired. I want to sleep and never wake up, I want to forget the pain. But I can't. I feel empty, but I can't give in to it. Even if I waned to, I feel like there's something stopping me now. Sometimes I feel like it's my grandmother. Others I feel like it's a prospect of happiness and love in the future that beckons me from the hollow ache inside me.

I don't want to think anymore. I want sleep and the minutes of sanity that comes from it. So sleep I shall, and sanity I shall chase. My battle will always be with loneliness. I know that now. So I battle it, so I sleep through it, so I come out and breath in another day. My battle will end one day. All I can do is wait and hope that isn't a lie.

An endless and horribly bottomless love...

Hello again, and from an empty heart, here I go again. I've been feeling extremely lonely recently. I don't think there's one simple reason why, I think it is instead a few different reasons. My best friend is far away, I desire affection that I can't have, I'm afraid to be alone for so long, I hate feeling empty like I do now, I want physical contact but don't want to hurt myself because of that desire. I don't know what to do, I don't know how to change these feelings.

I miss Ashlie, I miss her to the point that I've turned pictures of her over so I don't have to cry every time I see her face. I miss her, I want to be with her, I want her near me so that she can console me. I miss my best and only true friend. I don't want any other friends. No one could replace her, not a single being in the world. Not even Tristan, but then again, she couldn't replace Tristan either. They are two separate entities, two separate loves in my life. One essential to living, the other essential to breathing. Similar, but different none the less.

I dream of him, my Tristan, my lover that exists in time and space, but is unattainable at this point in my life. I love him, I've never met him, but I love him as though my life depended upon it, and sometime I think it does. I feel like the moment I stop loving him, the moment I stop keeping an eye out for him, is the same moment I stop breathing. I had a dream not too many days ago. He was here on campus, he found me, he knew me just as I know him. He tested me, trying to make sure I was really the one he saw in his dreams, and when he found out I was, he said this: "Now that I have you in my grasp, now that I know you exist and where you are, I am never letting you go again. You are mine for the rest of our lives."

I wish I could be with him, I wish he was here. I miss him. I want to be with him. I miss him.

I feel so empty because of these desires, these feelings of longing that have nowhere to go. It's empty because there is no end to this cycle of desire and want and need. I want them here, I need their presence, I desire their voices in my ear, but no matter how much I feel this way, I can't do anything to make my desires come true. All I can do is sit back and wait for time to pass, for things to change, for my life to intertwine with theirs once more and for the first time. I miss them. I love them. I want to be near them. I miss them. I feel empty without them. I cry when I think about them. I miss them with every part of my being and every inch
of my heart aches for them.

The Archive...

It's been over 5 years since I started this blog, and there is not a day that goes by that I do not owe it my life. Coming out of insanity was like walking into a haze, a blur of reality that made no sense and even less of a desire to witness it. I was lost in that fog, watching people progress through their lives like nothing had happened, like my world was not, just moments before, about to be broken. If I had not created this outlet, this place to write my pain into, I don't know what would have happened and I truly am glad I never had to find out.

This place has held my pain, my torment, my sadness, my anguish, my love, and my happiness all in one small little world. It has helped me through some of my most horrible times and through the years, I can only hope that it has done the same for others. If I can be the voice that tells people they are not alone in their insanity, in their pain, in their "differences" from others, then I am all the more glad to have wrote here instead of in a journal I would have honestly thrown eventually for fear of others reading it. This place is funny in that way. It's on the internet, a place where no one truly knows who is reading your posts, but for me, it is hidden in that vast web of data where anything and everything is possible. This place is a secret I hide from those that have hurt me, that I don't trust, and those that I what to hide from the most. However, it is also an open book, left out to be read, by just about anyone who comes across it. In a way, that too makes me happy.

If anyone who reads my blog has been helped by it, please continue to read as my life progresses. After all, no matter what stage of life you are in, there will always be a need for a secret cove to hide your dark secrets in. It just so happens that my cove is available to anyone who goes looking for it. I hope all the best to anyone brave enough to live through life, and I extend unconditional gratitude to those who have read and known the pain within the words I write. We've all been through hell and back, but its those of us able to talk others through that journey that find true peace within ourselves.

Thank you for everything, and I look forward to the vast future before us.

The inevitable pain...

 Small moments filled with peace, an unbearable sorrow unfounded, unshaped, unwilling and absence of presence. Small voices in the distance, a tranquility that stands between sleep and wakeful bliss. Lost in the space between an animal I know will die one day, the regrets I will have for not touching for fear of a lack of breath, the pain and emptiness left behind every time I look at pictures, the painful knowledge of her eventual, yet not far enough off, death. I ache at the thought, losing my mind in her beauty, her sweet understanding and love, despite my inability to overcome simple allergies. I regret, I mourn before the passing, I take every moment of courage into account and cherish the few pictures I am actually able to take, fear residing behind the camera knowing that when I look at them after the loss of her, I will weep in torment and guilt.

This peace, this kind of irrational determination to undermine my own peace, this moment where peace and a future of pain known all to well to be coming, this tormenting relentlessness that ceases every thought in my being but the thought of my love for her. The undying love in front of my eyes blending with the corpse that will steel my heart and break my soul. Every insanity I have subjected her to, every ignorant but well intentioned childhood act that taught me to truly cherish and love her, and every moment I look into her eyes and realize how beautiful this creature could be, how majestic that moment that she blinks slowly, fading from rest to sleep and back again. The lasting moments I share in my dreams, nestled and smothered by the nightmare of her blood on my hands.

I feel the guilt pouring out every time I see her, I know she is going to leave and not of her own will either. She is destined for death, just as all eventually are, but seeing and knowing what will be are two different things. I fear it, I forsake her inwardly for leaving before she has turned away, I hate and loathe but tread heavily on the guilt of it all in that moment that my skin touches her soft fur. I long for her immortality, hoping to some higher being that may or may not exist to extend her into vampirism if necessary if only to see her live long and healthy.

Curled up beside me now, she sleeps and breaths as if time had stopped, as if all that mattered was the itch under her skin every now and again, or the moment of my fingers over keys that wakes her to blinking and fading off to sleep once more. One day, the day she no longer wakes, that is my fear, my stem of guilt, my outlasting pain that hovers endlessly. Will I come home and she will be gone? Will I find her one day on the road after a driver decided their phone was more important that the life of a loved one? What would I do if she were to be in a hospital, lying there frail and old, at the end of her life, silently whispering for my hand to lift from her cold, forlorn body? How the tears shed even from the thought, how my mind aches and body reals at the eventual time's come. I wish time could stop. I wish her moments could forever be frozen. I do not want to take pictures, I do not want to lose the only one who loved me despite the lack of love I was deprived of all those years ago.

How many years has it been? How old is she? Should I find out just to know how much longer she had to live? If I were to know, how should I not see her as a walking corpse only days, years from that fated moment. I want to remain ignorant, I want to make time stop with my ignorance, hoping her slowly aging body will cease only at the end of my own. How I wish she could last forever, but I also ponder on the thoughts of when she will go, of how much time I have left to take as many photos as I can, to love her and make up for the days I did not smother my face with her fur. The days I did not hug her and hold her tightly when I missed her or felt scared or lonely. The times I did not pet her endlessly because my hand had a cut and was becoming swollen. How I would wish I could just love her as much as possible regardless of any thing my body might do to me in retaliation. How I would wish I could have loved her more, showed her more of how I would miss her, had been around more.

May thought forbid if I were to be absent in her passing. I do not know if I would survive that. I love her too much. I miss her too much. I want her to live forever too much. So much so that I take advantage of my hope and dismiss the future as if a common passing. She is irreplaceable. She is impossibly my other self. She is the path that drove me to sanity. She is everything to me and I do not know how I would feel if she had gone. At this point, tears are not possible to stop. I have given up trying. I will cry for her when she dies. I will weep when I think about it. I will die inside every time I come home and cannot find her. I will miss her and when the time comes, I would die with her if it meant I could be with her forever. If not, I will take her ashes with me to my grave and cherish her endlessly loved life even in death. I will never forget her, never hate her, never forgive myself for being unable to touch her without washing my hands afterwards. I will love her. I will love her. I will forever and for always, I will love her.

Kitty, you will be loved for the rest of eternity, dead or not, I will see you every day for the rest of time. I will love you. No matter life or death. I will love you.

An overwhelmning sadness...

Today is one of those days, sad and lonely, empty and scared. I miss something that was never there in the first place. I'm sad, crying this very moment, and I don't know how to make the pain and loneliness go away. No matter how much I cry, no matter how much I want to be with someone, no matter how much I want to find love, all I can do is dream and wake to nothingness.

Today I will tell you a story, a story of fantasy, romance, and pain. A story that wakes me up with tears in my eyes every time it is told. It is a story of "If only..." and it begins with a castle, white as though it were waiting for someone to paint on it - an empty canvas, a solitary possibility of everything from nothingness.

This story takes place in a world of dreams, a place long forgotten and hidden in every memory. It is a place of magic and wonder and at the top of it's tallest hill lies the Kingdom of Tales. In this kingdom lives a young prince, alone in an empty castle. He has no one, he has never known anyone, and yet he sits at his throne, too big for him to be comfortable, and waits for someone to walk through the throne room doors.

He does not age, he does not move, and as the world goes on, a little girl happens by the ruins of his throne room door. She looks behind the empty doorway only to find more ruins, but as she walks through, the world goes back to a time long since past. Here she finds a young boy, staring into his hands as they hold onto a book a color she has never seen. She asks, "Why are you here?" As he looks up, he answers, "I was waiting." "For what," she reply. To which he says, "For you."

The little prince takes a step out of his chair, setting his book kindly in the now empty space. Walking toward her, he offers to show her his world, and she could only smile. So he does, and he shows her all he knows. He shows her the little toy box in the garden, the one he played with when he was younger. He shows her the big table where he plays with the many empty chairs, one each for every day of a month. And he shows her the library, the room so big that it takes up almost all of the castle. Ladders going this way and that, stairs up and down and across the room. But he especially shows her this one bookshelf, separated from the rest, at the edge of the room and right by the door that never opens.

He pulls out a book from his coat pocket, and tells her to put it in the only empty spot in the whole of the library. The bookshelf moves away from that spot, opening up a small place where only two could sit, and he says, "I've been waiting for you to help me fill this space, for without you, it won't work." She looked puzzled and asked, "What do you mean?" So he takes her hand, steps inside with her by his side, and puts her hand on the wall in front of them. The bookshelf closes behind them and the wall opens up. Beyond that wall is a staircase, white as the stars that shine below them, leading to a small pavilion, whiter than the stairs that found it. Along those stairs, the two young ones walked, forever it seemed, till they stood beneath the pavilion's small, white roof, and when they looked up, they found themselves looking back. Nothing special, only their reflection wasn't quite a reflection. "What is that?" the girls asked. To which the boy answered with all the knowledge he had, "That is us my love, in 10 years time. This mirror shows only truth, and the truth is that we will meet in the future once again, now wake and remember that I am here until then."

Then she wakes abruptly, the feeling of his hand still in hers, and she cries and cries, wishing that his 10 years were the same as hers. Time is cruel the way it moves, while in his land 1 hour could mean a year here, and so she cries the tears that never end, only to finally realize that those 10 years might have already past and something might have stopped him from ever coming back. She hasn't seen him since then and she slowly loses hope she ever will again.

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The story's not over yet, but the sadness remains. My heart forever frozen in a time of darkness, light so close but so far. I know I'll get there one day, I know I'll find love, but the ever long in-between is what hurts right now.

It's finally dawned on me...

My best friend, the moment we met, could tell what I was. She could see it and when she told me, I didn't understand. I don't feel like I am, I feel like I'm just a little different, that I see things different, that I'm just not "normal." I was okay with that. I knew I wasn't very socialized, I had been very sheltered when I was younger and I never tried or wanted to be around people. Why did I have to be "normal?" What's so special about "normal?" Why can't just being me be enough?

But now I get it, I finally understand what I am and why I want so badly to cry right now. I'm what my best friend called socially awkward. I zone out while starring at someone, they ask what I want/need, and I say "Oh, it's nothing, sorry." Thinking all is fine and nothing wrong, I go on with my life, but in their view, it was strange. Why would I be standing there and starring at someone if it was "nothing?" There was no reason, I had no reason, maybe a lingering thought stopped me and I was entranced in the movement of something in front of me, but that doesn't mean it had to do with anything important. There really was no real reason to stand there. So then why do I do things like that?

Because to me, I'm in my bubble and what I do can just be ignored. I'm the person people can just ignore, just look straight through. But they don't. They see me. They notice me. They see my weirdness, my oddities. My non-normal behavior
. I'm not normal, I'm strange, I'm different, I have a world of my own and I live in it and don't notice anyone else. I'm scared of that. I'm unhappy with that. I can't let that keep happening.

I don't know how to change. I can try to be more aware of my actions, of how they might affect someone else, but what else can I do? I don't notice the things people think are strange. I don't notice that people see me standing there and ask themselves, "What's she doing?" I don't get it. I don't see it. I need to start noticing.

Where do I begin...? I wish someone could just stand next to me and tell me when I look odd, how to change my behavior, and how to be more "normal." But I can't... and I'm scared of what might happen if I don't notice those things. I wish I could be my own observer. I wish I could see. I feel so blind, so ignorant, so sad and scared.

What do I do...? How do I change...? I want to be more normal... more social... more accepted. I want to fit in, fall into the background... if only I knew how. If only I knew how.

An echoing vibration, the numbing sound...

My mind is numb, aching, echoing, longing for something. It's filled with thoughts, happy, sad, torturous, and even romantic thoughts, all of which continuously circle inside my mind. It feels numb. So numb. Like the sounds around me have turned into a hollow vibration slowly moving through the air, buzzing around me, never stopping. It doesn't hurt. It doesn't feel good. It just is. There's nothing to feel. Numb. Just numb. I feel numb.

I'm not sure why; maybe lack of sleep, maybe stress, maybe sadness and loneliness as I sit here missing my friend. I know she misses me too, I know I could have spent an hour with her today, and maybe that is the reason? I feel guilty? I want to see her, I want to be with her, but then I also need to watch my health more closely now too. I haven't been feeling well, mentally, physically, spiritually. I've just felt so dead inside, so "sick" without the usual fervor that follows "illness." I wanted to see her; as I slept I dreamt of her today, nothing special, just her face, talking like usual. Somehow it was peaceful, but then I noticed her smile. It was sad, so very sad. So empty. So hollow, like the sounds that surround me. I look at her hand, holding a piece of paper. It has nothing on it, nothing special, but it's soaked in a blue-red. Like the pain she feels is spilling out through her blood, while her broken heart turns cold and icy. I miss her. I want to be with her and tell her everything is alright.

That I am here, that no matter what horrible kind of day I might have, I will always listen when you ask me to. Texting is hard for her in that way though. She hides her pain, her sadness behind a wall. She says it's to protect me, but I don't believe it. I think it's because she wants to keep herself hidden away, like she's too ashamed of her pain. It's as if she believes her pain insignificant, not worthy of being talked about, or just not important enough. She could never be so wrong. I don't know how to tell her I care, especially when my actions don't always show it. How do I tell her she is constantly on my mind without her thinking I'm overreacting, making things up and just "saying" things. How do I tell her she's the most important friend or even person I've ever had in my life without her thinking I could "try harder" to make a connection.

How do I let her know how much of my life is because of her? I miss her. My head feels numb, empty, sad even. My heart is sleepy and lonely. My body is sore and tired, but I miss her. I want to see her and hug her and hold her tight. I want to tell her how special she is and how amazing I think she is for fighting the constant urge to give it all up. I want to give her a way out of this state and out of this confinement she calls California. I want to bring her all she could ever want from this world, but I can't and I'm sad. She's so special. So important. So beautiful to me that I just don't want to let her go.

I'm selfish. I'm jealous of all the other people she calls "friends." I want to monopolize her friendship, but I can't. I'm arrogant. I want to be the one to give her the world, but I can't. I'm ignorant. I want to bring her happiness, but I don't know how. I'm useless.

But I still love her, and no matter what path she goes down, no matter how far away she is or how far we drift from each other, so long as I have her ingrained in these words, I won't ever forget her. She might forget me, but that's okay. As long as she's happy, I think I'll be okay. I'll cry, I'll wallow over losing yet another person that I held dear, but if she's happy, if she's in a place that can bring a true smile to her face, then I'll cry in the darkness and watch her thrive in the light. I'll be content in her smile and I'll be glad to have been a part of her life, even if that part breaks off, falls away, or is forgotten. I love her more than anything in the world. So long as she's happy, that's all that matters.

It's the lies that hurt the most...

You know... I've been making this blog for a long time now, writing about times that I dwell on, things that make my heart ache for days until I've either written about them or found a way to make things better. I've created a place where my worst moments have a place to hide, a place to lie silently until they are needed, wanted. Most of these problems stem from my fantasy, but my fantasy stems from the problems I had with my Mother. She never stopped to question my actions, my thoughts, never stopped to ask why I might feel one way or another. Never stopped being absorbed in herself long enough to notice that I was in so much pain that I forced myself to believe my life was fake in order to be able to handle it.

She's selfish, conceited, and the type of person I fight every day to never become. I hated her for it. I still cannot forgive her... but I've tried to put it behind me. I've been more patient with her than I have ever been. I step back when I can't take anymore so I don't lash out, then I take a breath and step back into the flames. I fight to try to get along with her, despite her stressful attitude about every little thing, despite the arrogance and selfish behavior she portrays. I fight so hard to try and be the adult, the one who can take what she dishes out but be courageous enough to not fight back.

...but it's hard sometimes. It's hard. So very hard. For as long as I could remember, I could never trust her. Ever since the day she blatantly lied to me. I was laying with her, cuddling with a mother I had cried for weeks over because I missed her so much. I missed her to the point that I would stand staring out my window crying my eyes out thinking she would never come back. When she did, I asked her if she would ever leave me. She said no. I asked her if she would ever lie to me. She said no. Then she promised. A promise made to a little girl full of love. I know it sounds stupid to you, but that promise meant everything to me, it still does too. Not even a day later, however, I found her in her bathroom trying to hide cigarettes. She said straight to my face in that moment, that she wasn't smoking. Lies.

A few years back, I found her again, hiding in the back yard with a cigarette in her mouth. She said it was a moment of weakness. I was mad, disappointed, defeated, and just when I thought I could trust my mother again.... Lies.

Ever since then, I've been weary of the fact that every now and again she would come home smelling like cigarettes, smothered and thick in the scent. She would tell me she wasn't smoking.... I'm no fool. Just today I was coming home from work and I saw her figure rush into the house, then as I entered, she walked past the hall, looking back over her shoulder. I knew in that second all my doubts over the years were right. So tonight I looked in her purse for proof, and found exactly what I had hoped not to. My last bit of trust in her words holding tightly to that hope. A box of cigarettes and an electric cigarette lie hidden inside.

I've had enough of the lies. I'm tired of her hiding from me. If she's going to kill herself, I'd rather she do it without trying in vain to cover her tracks. So I've decided to confront her the next time I'm sitting next to her and she smells of cigarettes. Casually and callously I'll say, "You've never been good at hiding it from me, so if you are going to smoke, please, stop trying to hide it. I'm disappointed in you, I'll never forgive you, but please, it hurts more when you try to hide it. And when you've decided to stop for good, don't be afraid to ask for help."

No more hiding. No more lies.

The Prospective Possibility of Love...

It's just occurred to me that after the end of my last relationship, after trying to love someone, giving them everything I had held back from all my other relationships, only to find out I was the only one truly looking at our relationship as a whole, I have become more damaged than I realized. I found that I was looking for something that didn't exist in someone I had no true attraction to other than that of a friend, and you know what, when I broke up with him I told him it was up to him whether or not we would still be friends. Since I knew he cared for me - though he didn't show his emotions, express interest in our relationship, or even do things because he wanted to but because I had asked him to - I knew he cared for me in his head, but I also knew that the amount he cared was not love, despite his incessant words of love that were empty and void of feeling.

I knew because I looked, I saw, and I told him. I told him what love was supposed to look like, that when I was sick he should have come over because he wanted to see me, not because I told him to, that he should have sex with me because he wanted to be closer to me, know more about me, and make me feel good, not because he liked feeling good or because I asked for it.

Now that I think about it, the first time was strange for me; I had to outwardly say "I want to have sex with you" for him to do anything. He didn't follow emotion... not once did he follow emotions. It was like he was a slave, doing everything I told him, no matter what... I'm not that type of person. He made me into something I hated. I already know that I am a rather spontaneous person who does things in the heat of the moment, but I needed someone to filter my actions, to stop me, not to stand behind me and follow me. I'm not a leader... I don't want to be a leader... I feel insecure and scared as a leader... I told him that too. I told him everything that worried me about our relationship long before the break up... but he never did anything.

No, I'm not saying he didn't change for me, I'm saying he didn't talk about anything with me. In relationships you should want to talk things out, especially when your partner tells you something they feel uncomfortable about. He never talked about our sex life; when I would say to look some things up, to try to become more familiar with my body during our time together, to actually try to get to know what feels good for me, because that was exactly what I was doing for him. I gave him oral because I wanted to please him, I had sex with him because I wanted to be closer to him... but now those memories....

I can remember the feeling of his penis in my mouth right before he came, the weird vein-like movement of the semen up the shaft of his penis that ran across my lower lip... it grossed me out, the way he looked naked grossed me out, the moment I realized he has never once washed his body grossed me out, the fact that he smelled disgusting down there grossed me out, and I was grossed out at the thought of him being inside me after knowing all that... I don't like these memories. They make me feel so blind, like I should have noticed these things from the beginning, like I should have asked about them from the beginning. I've lived my life trying my best not to regret anything... but I truly think I regret having this relationship with him because of my sexual actions with him. I did so many things for him, put so much into the relationship as a whole... and got nothing but regret back. I told him it was his choice to be friends again... but ever since I broke up with him, he's never once held a conversation longer than "hi" with me, and I was the one who said it, not him.

A part of me hates him for that. He took things I can never get back, gave me memories I've relentlessly tried to forget but have too many memories to count, and yet he can't even say "hi" to me. I hate him for that, I really do. I spent 3 months with him, 3 months of my life that I will never get back... right now they matter, right now the wound is fresh and will not heal since I see practically every day. Seeing him reopens my wounds and all the memories flood back to haunt me.

Right now, my wounds won't heal... but I know that they will one day. I know that I'll meet that guy who can make me remember new sexual encounters, pleasant sexual encounters. He will mark over my memories of that relationship; like a video-tape being recorded over, loosing past data forever. I want that, I want it so badly... I wonder when that will happen? How long do I have to wait this time for someone to be with me? I waited 18 years last time... maybe I'll be able to find him sooner. My "Tristan" is still out there... one day I'll find him and he'll show me a love I've never known, a love that I need, want, and cherish. A prospective possibility of love that has yet to come... a wait that seems endless in the present and instantaneous in the future... but how long is the "instant" this time, I wonder?

Slowly dying...

Recently I've felt an amazing loneliness that doesn't seem to fade. It's affecting my grades, it's affecting my reason to wake up, and finding motivation to do anything is growing harder by the day. I don't know what it is, I don't know why it is happening, and you know what? It's scaring me. It feels like my emotions are dying. As though they were slowly growing dimmer by the second, then fading into a blackness - the perpetual black abyss that never rests and always hungers for more. I feel empty, lonely, and so dark.... Why? I wonder why this is happening... I wish I had a reason. Reasons for things that happen somehow make me feel better, it helps me "understand," rather than just "knowing" something is wrong. I want my emotions back.

I get the feeling that my lack of emotions has something to do with my process of healing. I file away the bad memories and as all memories go, they are not connected to themselves alone. When you take away the bad memories, you have no choice but to take away the good memories that are attached to them. It's unavoidable, yet I still do it. I lose memories this way. The good go along with the bad. As a result my memories fade and disappear... just like my emotions. It happens every time I do this. Just like the last time I did this, back when I tried to forget my years of turmoil, of fantasy and pain. The emotions I had during those times, fading long with the memories, never came back. I had to slowly gain new emotions, rekindle a broken flame. Will I have to do that this time as well? Probably... no, there's no doubt that I will. It's the price I pay, the contract I signed, and the deal that I accepted form the darkness itself. If I wish to forget, I must choose from the bad and indiscriminately lose the good. It's how the universe works: To gain something, one must pay an equal and fair price in return.

"Humankind cannot gain anything without first giving something in return. To obtain, something of equal value must be lost." - It's called equivalent exchange, and I know it's law to be truth. There's no running from it and there's no evading it.

I just need to gain those emotions back the hard way... that's all.

A hopeful time...

Have you ever heard of Omamori charms? In Japan, these small cloth bags, colored intricately and tied off with a specific knot, are something that holds great power. As far as my knowledge of the Japanese language goes, the word roughly translates to "protecting" or "protection." However, these charms do more than just protect their owners, they grant fortune as well. Good or bad, each fortune is unique. These Omamori are special because they allow the owner to place a written fortune of their own, and after writing something on small pieces of paper, they are placed inside the bags and sealed. In Japan, whatever is written on that paper is something that will come true. You don't tell anyone what you wrote, but it's fine to say what "type" of charm it is. For instance, writing "pass a test" would be considered a "good luck" or "academic" charm.

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I have an Omamori. Inside I wrote something special, something precious. Something that brings me hope. I haven't had hope in a long while. Do you know the reason? My dad, my grandma, and a lot of things to do with very good friends. But it's still there, somewhere deep in my heart, and it has manifested itself in the form of the Omamori paper. I won't tell you what's written on it, or the magic will break and shatter, but I will tell you it's type. It is called a love charm. A charm that brings love to your future.

My hope lives, once more, it lives. I have such a big smile on right now, I wish I could express this gentle happiness to you all, as it fills my heart once more. Oh, it feels so amazing, it truly does. Hope. It's such a strong feeling, and it is so very warm and comforting. It feels like I've been wrapped in a large warmth, something big and strong, but also calm and assuring. It's called hope, and it's finally within my hands' grasp once again.

You are worth the wait...

My dear Ashlie:

To a person who means the world to me, I don't know what I would do without you. You are worth more than you realize, and whoever cannot see that, is not worth your time.

Her heart was hurt, it was burnt, it was scared, and it was shattered and broken, but each time, she got back up and moved forward. I have faith in her, I won't ever judge her, and I will always be beside her. However, she was hurt today, and the person who hurt her isn't worth anything. He does not deserve her, and I know one day he will regret leaving her. She is beautiful - she sparkles and shines, she covers her eyes, and she is scared and wounded, but she is more precious than the most rare gem, more than the more perfect diamond or crystal. She is brighter than the sun, even when covered by clouds, she is amazing and she changed my life. I want her to be happy. I want her to find the person that can love her just as much or more than I can.

He was not that person, and he hurt her. I want her to know that she does not need to hide, she does not need to stop those tears, or stop the pain. I want her to know that she should let the pain out. She should scream and cry and wail and thrash about, that she should let her wounds burn and scar and fester. But also, I want her to know that the pain will heal her. That the pain will ease with the scaring, that the wounds that are not on your body in any way can heal, though slowly and harshly, they will heal. They will scar and leave marks, but those marks are what make her beautiful.

You are beautiful, Ashlie. You are amazing to me and you shine brighter than the most flawless star in the universe. You have no idea how strong you are, and I'm not saying that to burden you. You are strong. You have courage unlike all those people who have burned you and watched you bleed. You are worth the world, and when they can't see that, it makes me more angry than you could believe. I would kill for you. I would murder the world just the ease your pain. I am weak, but I am not about to stand by as someone takes you when they don't deserve you. You give until there's nothing left to give, you give your heart and your body, and for everything that you are, you are worth so much more.

When the day comes that you stand by the person that sees you brighter than the stars, I want to be there, to both congratulate you and see your smile, untainted by the past, untrained by years of fake smiles, and unbelievably beautiful.

Let your wounds out, let the tears drain out your pain, let it all go and don't you dare hold it back. Don't bottle it up, don't hurt more than you need to, and try to find the beauty in the sky once more. Look up and see the future that I do. Look out into the night sky and wonder where that true love is, because it is there and you will find it. Just as I know that you will heal, one day, I know that there is still hope in your heart, I know that the real reason you hurt is because you hope, because you innocently hold onto hope and for all the right reasons too. You are not wrong to hope. Hope is your light and I don't want to see you without it. So hope, heal and live on, and hope and love and live. Let the tears wash away the pain and let love heal a broken heart. You are worth all of it, and one day when all the pain seems easier to bear, you'll find a love so true that everything that has happened before will have seemed worth it. No matter how much it hurts, no matter who that scumbag may be, I will stand by you and be here, helping you stand once more, helping you hope once more. Hope, feel pain, heal, and love again.

You are worth it, don't you ever forget that.

You are worth the wait.

Emptier, more jagged, and lonely....

After the end of probably what I could consider my first relationship... it's hard to write this. Some of my posts just flow, despite the pain, but right now, I'm trying desperately to forget everything that happened. Absolutely everything. I want nothing to remain... so writing this is like digging into an open wound. I don't want to write this. I don't want to have to write this. It was supposed to be easy, but he made it so much harder. I was supposed to break up with him and then allow him time to heal from sadness, but he's not the type to show anything. He never showed happiness, never showed emotions of any type. Not even when we were together, which is one of the reasons I broke up with him, but instead of the sadness I expected from him, I see none. All I see is blatant avoidance, contempt, and hatred, but what makes it worse is it's not visible. It's like it's cloaked in a veil of false sadness and underneath is only hatred. A seething hatred. All pointed at me. It makes this so much harder. It's why I want to forget everything.


I told him when I broke up with him the things that bothered me: his lack of hygiene, his lack of emotion, his lack of personal opinion, and his lack of even the slightest care for how he appears (I mean yeah, it's good to not care what other people think and all, but there's an extent to it - he had no extent, he cared a total amount of zero percent when it came to absolutely anything). It was like, just when I had told him the things that bothered me, he decided to get back at me by making sure he did everything he lacked ten times more. It was as though he were rubbing salt in my guilt, ruining my every memory of my time with him. At first, they were good memories, learning memories, but now they just hold pain and mistrust. I had tried to give him my heart, but he gave me nothing back, only words that meant nothing. He would always say, "I love you," and whether he meant it or not, he did nothing to show it. Those words meant nothing to me to begin with, I told him that, but he did nothing to give them meaning. And then there's what I gave him....

I gave him everything. I tried to give him my heart and I had already given him my body. I hate that. Those words. That truth. The lies. The pain that before I was with him I was more lonely than my heart could bare, but now... now.... Now it's just empty. There was a hole in my heart, and now that hole has been dug out, emptied, and the edges have become more jagged. Most of all, my heart isn't broken, just hollowed out, carved out from the inside, like someone reached in, grabbed a chunk of it from the center, and pulled it out, leaving a gaping hole much larger than before. It hurts. I want to forget, to make the loneliness more bearable, but I have classes with him, I eat in the same place as him, and it's almost impossible to avoid him. So every time I see him, the memories resurface and dig that hole bigger. He took my everything... I gave him my everything... and he destroyed it. He made the relationship we were in empty and made the break up a nightmare.

I blame him. Why shouldn't I? I tried to give him my heart and my world, but he had nothing to share, nothing to give, and did not try to either. It makes me mad that I didn't realize this earlier... no, that's not quite right. I feel like I knew the moment we were first together, that first night, that first time I gave him everything. I feel like I knew, deep down, that things wouldn't work out, but I tried anyways. I tried to make it all work somehow. Tried to make something out of nothing. As time went on, it became harder to lie to myself and I think I only held on because I wanted so badly not to be alone. I wanted so much to have someone love me back as much as I loved them, but I didn't love him to begin with. I tried to turn my desire for love into love itself, and all I got in return was pain and an empty loneliness.

I feel like my heart is hardening... like I have no reason to try anymore. I feel like the only thing I have right now is just an empty pain, a soulless body, living but not alive. I feel so empty... I just want it all to go away, all of it to disappear. I don't care what memories I have to lose in return, I just want these memories to die, to never have existed. I want them gone... because if I don't, I know it won't be long before I break. I'm not strong enough to handle this, so I need support, and I don't have that. I am my own support and all I can do is try to make the sadness go away. I feel like that relationship was a mistake, like it all shouldn't have happened to begin with. I want it gone.

My memories are so fragile and my memory itself is so fluid and mutable. I can take away what I like and destroy what I must, but trying to remember the little things that I want so badly to remember is like swimming in an endless black chasm, with no bottom or jagged edges to catch what has fallen. In order to find what I've lost, I would have to give something in return, and the same goes for memories that I want to forget. In time I'll have forgotten him, but then I'll also realize that something has been lost along with those memories. It will be something precious, something I will not have wanted to forget, but I won't be able to get it back, and I understand that risk. Right now though, I just want these memories gone. So I stand at the edge of the darkness, take a breath and plunge myself into it. I wait, the darkness surrounding me slowly eating the memories I want to discard along with another that I wish to hold onto, but for my selfish desire to forget, the darkness claims something in return. That is the rule, that is the law, and that is something I cannot change. I will take that risk, and soon, these memories will be gone.

Reliving the pain...

I wanted to see it all, the pieces of my life that I've slowly gotten used to, the pieces that I had suffered over and then written in this blog. I wanted to see who she was, that person from four years ago. We're not the same person, we never could have been. She and I are two different people now, and though we share a past, memories, and scars, we are different. I was reading one of my posts, reading one of the sadder ones, the ones that feel empty and lost in depravity. One that seemed hopeless and damaged, so painful and so raw and bare of all masks. It was like I was watching the memories of those words, the memories hidden in my writing, play out before me, but the person they spoke of, the me they spoke of, she felt like a stranger. I had to remind myself, with tears in my eyes, that she's no stranger, she's me. She is me. That won't ever change. There's always been that part of her that wished the me right now or even a future me could go back to her and tell her that everything would work out somehow, that one day everything would be okay. I remembered that I had once even believed that might have happened. Maybe it had been a dream, of a fantasy that I had conjured up, but to her, it was the closest thing to reality. I wish right now, in this very moment, I could go back to her and tell her everything was going to be alright. I want to be her strength, to thank her for pushing through it all, for living long enough for my future to be possible. I owe her so much, and after everything she's been through, all for me and my future's sake, I don't even know where to begin.

I don't know what to do...

I got a boyfriend... and I'm not sure what to say about that. It's new, and right now, it's not exactly concrete or set in stone. It feels uneasy, I feel unsure, insecure about it. He says "I love you," and I believe him, so I reply with "I love you, too." There's a problem though. What does that mean? That word... "love." I don't know what it is, I don't know if I actually "love" him because I don't know how to love... that feeling is very vague and ambiguous to me.... I know from my experience with my grandmother that I understand what is important to me, what is precious, but that also means I know that Alexander is NOT precious to me... not in the same way... he never could be. That I have no doubts of. My grandmother was someone more special to me than anyone I had ever known, and though she's gone, that doesn't change. Alexander though... I just don't know. What is he to me? What do I feel for him? Sexual attraction? A need to be loved? Is that it? Is that the only thing I feel for him? Nothing else? Is that really it? Because as far as I know, it is... and that scares me. It's like I'm trying to prolong a relationship, to see how far we can go, when in my heart I know it is going to end, and painfully at that. Normally, in a situation like this I wouldn't have hesitated to break it off... but there's something holding me to him, something different about him, something that makes me very unsure. I don't knot if it stems form the sex that is unsatisfying, the fact that he never truly expresses any of his emotions to me (never truly smiles, laughs, or indulges in pleasure), or if it's just because it's all new to me and he isn't helping me overcome that anxiousness, that anxiety. What if it's all of the above? What if it's both he and I that have made me so unsure... is he even aware that I'm so unsure and insecure? Does he even see it? Or is this one of those moments where I'm hiding it too well and need to make it obvious? Or what if he just feels content with the way we are and that's it? Does he even want to pleasure me in bed? Does he even truly want to express his pain, his happiness, his anxiety with me? Does he have a past he doesn't want to share? Does he have a reason for his expressionless face? I've opened my heart to him, I've opened my pain to him and showed him my wounds, but does he even have any to share? Is his life so perfect that he has nothing to share with me? I want to get to know him, but if he remains a blank slate, I'll never know him.

I want this relationship to work. I want him to want to look well groomed, to trim his beard, wear a proper shirt and pants correctly, and bathe with soap. I know it's just simple stuff, I know it's something he isn't used to, I know it sounds like I want to change him, but I like him the way he is and I want to show him to the rest of the world, show the man I see to the everyone. I like him. I know that. I don't know, however, if that is "love." I want to be near him, of that I am sure. I love to be around him because he makes me smile, lets me forget the pain in my life, and holds my hand through the toughest times. He's good to me, but he's also very soft. He's tender. He walks as though there are jagged rocks underfoot. People have told me he might be insecure since this is his first relationship, that he is not sure how to tread in the waters around me, how to approach the emotional side of intimacy, but I don't know if I believe that. No, it's not a flat out, "I don't believe it." I'm just not sure if that's true. I want more from him, I want someone who will be aggressive in their advances and sweep me off my feet without me having to lay out the path and put down the steps. I don't want to be in control, I don't feel comfortable in control, it scares me and makes me feel insecure and afraid. I'm scared.

I'm scared. It's just become obvious. I'm scared that this is all he expects from this relationship. I'm scared that if it ends, I'll end up hurting him. I'm scared that if I let him go, I will have lost a very good friend. I'm scared that once it ends I won't be able to turn back to what things once were, or know how to go back to how things once were. I've forgotten how to watch a movie with him next to me and not hold his hand. I've forgotten how to be near him and not fantasize about a night of 'would-be's and 'hope-to-be's. It's been too long. I'm scared to lose him and then be all alone again. What if it ends? What if I tell him I want to break up? What would be my reason? I feel insecure? I'm unsatisfied with the sex? I want him to be an aggressive person that he could never be? I'm asking for too much and I know he can't give it?

I don't know what to do...

I can either stay in the relationship and ride it out, insecure and scared the whole time, try to fix it in some equally frightening way, possibly hurt him with what I say, and hope things get better, or just end it now, somehow find a way to return to just being friends, and be filled with a pain that I wouldn't know how to handle. It's hard, this relationship thing. There's no doubt though, that I would do it all over again. No, I wouldn't do things differently. It's hard... but it's supposed to be. Nothing is easy. It's how I learn, how I grow, but that doesn't make it any easier in the moment. It is still hard.

I want to talk to him, to try and figure this out, but every time I think like this, I go see him and he's all happy about something or another, and I feel guilty for wanting to interrupt his happiness and possibly hurt him. I don't want that conversation to end in a break up... I really don't. I'm scared. I really am. Too scared. Scared to face his pain, scared to hurt him, scared to lose him, scared to say "I can't do this anymore." I'm just scared, and I don't really have anyone to talk to about this. The people I have talked to have told me to talk to him, but that doesn't make it easier. They can't talk to him for me, they can't take away my fears, though I wish they could. It's between Alexander and I, a situation I'm far from used to, far from comfortable with. He's the longest I've been with, the longest relationship I've clung to. He's the one I thought I could see a future with, but the more I think, the more I wonder and hope, the more I feel unsure, uneasy about it all. These doubts... they are hard to deal with on my own. I wish I could talk to him, but I'm afraid and I don't know what to do...

I just don't know what to do... and it's tearing me apart and breaking my heart. It's making me wonder what "love" truly is, if I am in it, and what it feels like. It has broken my mind to pieces with endless fear, endless doubts, and I don't know what I should do anymore...

You've given me so much...

I can't stop crying long enough to do anything. I have a final tomorrow, I have homework to complete, projects to do, life to continue living. But right now none of that matters. She's dying. There's nothing I can do and she's dying. My grandma, the one of three people that I love most in the world is dying of cancer and I can't do anything about it. She has only a few weeks left, says the doctors, and I can't even go see her right now because of school. This is probably the one and only time I've ever truly wanted to completely skip out of school for someone else. I want to be there with her. I want to hold her hand and say "everything is going to be alright," even though I know it won't be. I can hardly see the screen or the keys as I type. I think I've been crying non-stop for the past 4 hours now. I don't want her to die. I don't want to loose someone so special to me. She helped me get my daddy back. She helped me when no one else saw my pain. She was there for me when I needed someone the most. I don't want to loose her. I want my grandma to be okay. I want her to live, to be there when I graduate from college, to see me make her proud, to be there when I tell her how much I love her. Words aren't even enough to express it. I love her more than words can fathom. I love her more than life, more then a future of happiness. I love her and I don't want her to die. Please, by some miracle, please, if there is any god in this world, any heavenly being, please... please somehow make everything okay. Please somehow fix her. Please somehow make her better. Please somehow allow her to live long enough for me to say goodbye. Please. Please. I don't want to miss my chance. I don't want to get there too late. Just one day. Just one day to say goodbye is all I ask. Just one. Please just one. I just need one. Just one. She's given me so much that I couldn't possible give back to her, and now I'll never have that chance....

I love you Grandma, I love to more than anything in the world. You've given me the strength to live, the will to keep trying, to never give in. You've given me the best grilled cheese sandwiches I could ever have. You've given me a loving family I can run to when I need them. You've opened my world and freed me from a cage. You've given me the meaning of life. I love you so much I can't stand to see you go. You'll be in pain, you'll suffer and it will hurt, so I won't ask for anything more than just one day. If you can hold out till I can get to you, I'll promise to hurry as fast as I can to get to your side, to be able to hold your hand tightly and say "I love you more than you'll ever know, you've given me so much I'll never be able to repay, and I know that somehow, someway, everything will be okay. I love you more than life. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you so much. I love you."