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."

One person, one chair, one table, and one star...

The hallway of my dorm has slowly become like a getaway to me. There are the occasional persons who pass by this late at night, but mostly, it's quiet and empty. It feels nice, very calming, very solitary. Most people thing that "solitary" is a sad thing, a lonely feeling, a thing void of all things - I think of it differently. It's the absence of what is, it's the possibility of existence. The void that is to be filled, the room that has life to come, the empty chair in front of a single table, waiting for that one person to come and sit down. Solitary means a void of possibilities to happen. It is the emptiness that has all things and nothing in it at once. I like that feeling, that "solitary."

I'm sitting here, the hallway is a vacancy just silently waiting for those who inhabit it. I'm not that person though. I'm the observer, the one who stands by and watched the events that happen. I like it like that. If it were anything else, I don;t think I would be writing this. I want to see the world like this, sitting here, my back to a wall, the empty chair and single table of possibilities in front of me. It's times like this I wish I had a camera. Something to capture the emptiness, the possibilities that I see in this moment. Something that I can look at later and understand in totality. It's that artistic side of me that I want to submit to, the side that I want o thrive, and I want to give it everything I can to appease it, but that's not something I can afford to do right now, so I'll wait.

In the mean time, I look out the window of this hallway, the reflection making the sight from outside difficult to see with the light of the hallway behind me. Beyond the reflection, I see a single star, adding to the singularity, the solitude, the endless possibilities. There we all are: one person, one chair, one table, and one star... all of us, the possibilities forming in an endless motif. A picture to be found, a story to be written, a camera to capture the sight, and a person to watch the possibilities forming.

This is my peace, my calm. This place had become more than a home to me, it has become my possibilities, my place to belong. The day that I have to leave it will be a sad one, but when I return, it will be waiting, new possibilities to watch forming right in front of me.

One person, one chair, one table, and one star... the solitary silence of endless possible futures to come.

Romance under the stars...

At the beginning of the year, I had met what I believed to be one of the first guys I really just enjoyed the company of. He was into all the same stuff I was and we always had something fun to talk about. He quickly became a very good friend, dear and precious to me. As time went on, however, I found that I liked his personality and not just his looks. I found the urge to touch him in simple little ways growing with time, slowly escalating to the urge to kiss him. He was suddenly so much more attractive than I originally thought. I loved his company, I loved being around him, I felt at peace near him, and nothing felt forced or tense at any time. We talked because we wanted to, not because we felt like it, and just a few minutes ago, I got back from one of the best experiences I had with him.

We had originally gone out to explore the night with another friend of mine that I had spent the day with. (On the off note, during the day we also playing in a fountain... IT WAS AWESOME!!! But anyways...) As the night went on, we headed toward the stadium at a time where we were just watching the sun set while the girls' soccer team finished practice. When the sun had gone down and out of sight, with the last bits of light left, we went to the actual field, with the artificial turf on it. There we ran around, and just played like idiots because we could. When the night sky started to glow with the traces of stars off in the distance, I decided to lay down. A few moments later, the guy (named Alexander) laid down next to me. I scooted a bit closer so that our heads were at the same level. At this point in time, my other friend (named Kia) was still with us and we just stared at the sky making sense of the shining lights in forms of pictures.

At some point, Kia decided to leave us two. Right before she left, when I lifted my head to fix my hair, Alexander moved his arm under my head and I didn't refuse it in the slightest. Somewhere in my mind I felt we made Kia uncomfortable (in my head we were flirting with each other and neither of us would say we liked each other), making Kia feel like the third wheel. (SORRY KIA!) But after she had left, we kind of slowly got closer and closer, the arm-pillow becoming an elbow-pillow, then a shoulder-pillow, and finally just laying on my side with my face resting on his chest while his arm kind of wrapped around my back.... We were cuddling.... It was comfortable and nice.... >3< We also saw a shooting star that night, and what's amazing about that, is that when we had come out to the stadium maybe a month or two back, we also saw a shooting star. I wanted to think it was some sort of sign... but I don't really believe in that kind of stuff... so I'll make believe that I do for just this moment. :3

Later on, he started to shiver and I kept bringing it up every time he would get those really bad shivers and say we should go back because he was cold, but just like me, he's stubborn and until 2 hours later when I decided holding my pee in any longer was a bad idea, I lifted myself up and took him with me. But keep in mind he kept getting me to leave him be cold for, oh I don't know, over maybe 15 times of this conversation:

Me: "You're shivering, we should go."
Him: "Why do you want to leave so badly?"
Me: "Because you're cold!"
Him: "Not really."
Me: "Hmph *continues stargazing*"

My point is.... Well actually, I'm not completely sure what my point was, but by this point I'm just smiling remembering all this, and the subtle moved his hand to poke my head, cover my eyes, or hold me was so very nice~. I'm crushing hard and I don't care~ I'm not going to confess though. I've had too many experiences where I confess or the other guy confesses and then the relationship between us gets really awkward and then ends completely. I don't want that to happen again, so I'm going to wait till he says something and I'll see where things go from there, and since I already know my answer to a confession from him would be "Yes," I don't feel like I have to worry about our friendship quite as much if he confesses instead of me. I've given him all the signs, so maybe he feels the same. Or maybe he just sees me as a friend he doesn't mind having physical contact with... and I don't know how I'd feel about that in the long run, but for right now, that's just fine by me. For now, at least.