7 months

Today marks 7 months clean. I know I'm being cryptic, but I think that most of you already know what I mean. Right now I am in a really good place, and keeping my mind off of things that might make me freaked out. I have had some close calls within this time but I'm really happy that I never relapsed even once. I actually had a scare, I had a dream a while ago that I slit my wrists, then I remembered the promise I made and got really upset while dying. I don't know what it is in my dreams, I always forget promises and commitments I've made until after I've transgressed.

In any case, that was just a dream. At the beginning, I never doubted that I'd be able to do it. A promise is a promise after all. I also never suspected that it would be so hard not to, at times. I hate being an addict. But for some reason I enjoy it too. I have an obsession with watching things about other addicts. They usually make me break down, but tonight they didn't. So I feel better. It might even be a week now since my last breakdown.

I was going to say that its also 7 months since my marriage ended, but that's not entirely true. In fact, my memories of that time are so blurry. Its often something I meticulously keep track of. The dates and times of endings and beginnings. But I hardly even have a memory of the events or when they occurred. I wanted to do a timeline, but either I'm afraid to remember back then, or I'm afraid that I WON'T remember. I'm also not sure that looking at my past is an important part of my recovery right now. I think the efforts could be better spent examining my present and the ever looming future.

I felt that I should write something to commemorate this, since its the first "anniversary" I've bothered to keep track of. So that I won't forget the process.

In any case, stay safe everyone.

Comrade.

I don't want to trust again.
I don't want to learn about someone else or form a new relationship of any kind.
I find it all so hard. And it all goes the same way. I don't want to give any part of myself to someone else because I know what its like when that backfires, when it goes wrong, when its given back.
I don't find anyone worthy. They all seem pointless, troublesome, tiresome to me...and yet when I do get to see inside them, see that they are more than their front, I despise them even more because they hide who they really are. And I might be doing the same thing, I don't know. I'm oblivious to how other people see me because I'm oblivious to other people.
I had a connection once, I had many connections, but I haven't kept them, one way or another. It scares me so much to try again. Maybe I'm doing all of this to hide from pain, from feeling anything. Because if I let myself get close again then I will be hurt again. There's no avoiding that.
And I always swore to myself I wouldn't become this person. I swore no matter how hard it got or how many times I got hurt I would keep going and keep believing. But I can't. I used to have so much hate inside of me, and I feel it coming back now. It doesn't help that I can't comprehend my emotions or even remember them from day to day. I don't know what's going on in my mind but it changes all the time. One moment I want to connect and the next I just want to be left alone.
I want what I'm looking for, but I don't know entirely what that is. I want it, but I don't want it. I want to push it as far away as possible. I wonder if I should try, if I can develop the love that's born from hate - or the hate that's born from love - the delicate mix of the two that feeds and destroys me. I don't want you, but only because you don't want me. I want you but you will cause me pain. And I can't have that again.
A good love affair begins with a comradery. You can't possibly expect to love someone who you wouldn't trust at your side in battle. And perhaps its my military past coming back to influence me, but that I truly believe. But can I trust someone enough again to let them have my life? I don't know.
I've become that person.
And I'm sorry.

I Am A Tree In A Forest

"There is no fictional epiphany, It was the moment I met her..."

I don't suppose I spend a lot of time thinking about why I write this blog. Or even if I should think about it. But I write a lot of things, to a lot of people - although some might never know it. I have notebooks, and blogs, all dedicated to different things. I wonder, am I a different person in each place I write? Or is it just many facets of my one self?
I write many things, I think, because they are the kind of thing that I would like to read, if I stumbled on it. A notebook left behind on a bus, or a school desk, can sometimes be a wonderful find. It makes you feel as if you know someone, even though you have no clue who they are. And maybe I want someone to feel that way about me.

Of course, I'll have no idea what they're actually feeling, if I do this right. But its the possibility being out there. Its the ability to exist in more than one being. The same way that sending in a secret allows someone to know you and yet...not know you.

I wonder if this is the only kind of relationship I can achieve. Anonymous and one-sided. But I don't mind it. I don't mind being in love with someone I have never met, talked to, heard about - someone who might not ever exist. Its an abstract idea but I've seemed to always be good at abstract thinking - when it suits me.

The words will keep pouring out of my mind onto the page, or the screen, and there's a chance that no one will ever read them. But I don't mind. Because there's always the possibility.

One In A Million Girl

Once again, sleep eludes me.

And I tell myself I won't do this, or rather, not to do this, because it isn't going to help with sleeping. But my mind always wanders, and sooner or later, it wanders to the past. I remember things that, I seem to have forgotten about until now. Amazing things. In my mind, at least. Things that, I never thought I would experience, yet somehow I did. And somehow I forgot. But maybe forgetting was for the better.

Because those things are over now. All those feelings are done, they will never happen again, she will never, forever, feel them. But they were feelings I wanted to last. That I needed to last. All those things she thought I would leave her for were all those things I thought she would leave me for. They were all the things that made me want to stay even more. Because above all else, they told me that she knew. She knew me. Or, she would. All I wanted was just someone who would understand. I found that, and I lost that.

This is the beginning of a very long and lonely life for me. I still have my family, my comrades, but what good do they do to the inner workings of my heart? If I can't even tell them? It's hard to get used to the thought that it will never happen again. That I will never be understood again. I'm not sure if anyone understands how hard it is to find a person like that in this world, and somehow I managed. But there are no more. It pains me, and it angers me, and it absolutely destroys me inside.

You know that feeling, when you are alone, and all you need is someone to hold you, but there is no one there? I'm going to have to get used to that. I imagine I will feel that way for the rest of my life.

Never Take Friendship Personal

I used to be a loner. Well, as those who know me (which is pretty much none of you), are aware, I still kind of am. But I used to be alone...all the time. I could go whole days without talking. Sure, people were around me - I was in class, or my mother was yelling in my face, or I was fighting with my siblings - but I was alone. And I'm aware how this sounds like every emo song ever written. But though I had friends...most of the time..and they were what I'd consider "close friends"...I could never talk to them about anything that was happening to me. Yeah, they knew about my mom, but I mean the things that were happening in my head.

I always longed for someone I could tell. Someone who wouldn't think I was crazy, or lying, or weird. That's what sparked a series of anonymous blogs, on various different websites. Hoping someone would stumble along and care, maybe talk to me about it. This is an example of one of those. But I've given up on that happening, by now.

Then there came the time when I finally found this person. She felt and saw the same things. Not my world, of course - someone from there is still just a wish - but she understood. And I could finally talk about it. Finally, I wasn't alone. I began to open up - though not fully, of course - into having truly close friendships. To put it bluntly, I had everything I'd ever hoped for. But just as I had realized this, just as I was basking in the warm glow of completion, acceptance - and love, of course. It ended. Having never experienced such a relationship before, Goddess only knows how I could handle such rejection. Having everything I wanted and then, having it all taken away. Something like that is not supposed to happen. I was supposed to be set for life.

And the friendships I had thought I could rely on fell apart too. I realized I meant nothing to them either, if I could not be what they expected of me. Because of this, if I wanted to keep them, I had to keep quiet. I couldn't say how my heart was breaking of my world falling apart - after having someone I could speak freely with, finally....I had to keep quiet once more.

So here I am, trying to adjust to the role that I lived for the first 17 years of my life. And its so much harder than I ever remembered.

You Would Always Be Here, I Heard You Say

" perhaps true freedom is having a home to return to."

What have I been searching for? What have I been looking for, this whole time?
For the longest time, I thought it was love, and in some ways I still believe that to be true, but I've realized, above all else I am looking for a home.

First it started as trying to find a way home. Because where I lived, wasn't. I would look everywhere, see hidden meanings in every thing. The light is shining on that tree just right - could it be a way? What if I walk up and touch it, will it bring me home? Is it on the other side of this sewer tunnel? The answer was always, inevitably, no. I still hope sometimes, though. If I explore a little bit more, maybe I will find the way...

Then it became trying to find a home here, in this world. Trying to find a beautiful, safe place. To rest my head. To get some sleep. And I had been trying to find that home in the arms of girls. Beautiful girls, though as the scars on my heart speak, their safety was questionable. Love is, in a way, like going home. I know the feeling off by heart, being weary and longing for that one person. Like everything will be ok with their arms around you. I longed for that and dreamt of that and built elaborate fantasies in my head. Until one day I thought I had found it. Or, I had found it. For that precious time, I had found a home. In her warm arms and her deep brown eyes, I was safe. For that precious time.

For now I don't know what the home I'm searching for will be like. Is it love? Or does one entail the other? I am looking for a home, a place of my own, somewhere I can return to when the battle is done. When all my searching is through.

The Paradox of Growing Up

I've never felt like an adult.

True, I'm sure I have plenty of time, seeing as I'm only nineteen, but I've been told I "am" and adult now. Is that what it is, a number? I'm not sure. I'm so used to be subordinate to anyone older than me. Its been that way for well...nineteen years. In college, or the workforce, I'm suddenly put on the same level (and possibly even a higher level?) as adults. I mean experienced adults. Or really, just everyone other than me. I don't feel like a college kid, I still feel like a highschool kid. Or just a kid in general. I feel meek and powerless. Just they way I've been taught to feel all throughout grades K-13.

So how does one "grow up"? Become an adult? Is it really a matter of age, or is it maturity? Now, I've always felt more mature than my contemporaries, more grown up in that sense of the word. But I still don't think that makes me an adult. I wonder, is it something that just comes to you, naturally? We all know how good I am with things that are supposed to come naturally. Will I just know one day that I am an adult? I'll suddenly wake up feeling like one?

This entry has a lot more questions than answers, much like myself...

Sleep's Not Comin' Easy For A While...

I withhold sleep from myself.
Or that is how it happens. I wonder if it is just because it's the closest I can come to harming myself without breaching my contract. If it's something I can control as some sort of pseudo-revenge scheme. Or perhaps its just that when I get into these moods, the need for sleep eludes me.
I remember back then, when they talked to me, when they were always talking to me, before they stopped. I would never sleep, or so it seemed. I wonder how I stayed alive. I would only be thinking - About what they said, about it's implications, how on Earth I could get back to them.
Every night it was the same thing.
"Take me home."
Until eventually it just became,
"Take me away from here."

Now, I know this will never happen. At least not while I'm alive. But when I do think about them, I still won't sleep. Who doesn't appreciate a call from home, after all?

It's not just because she left. Or it is. Either one, I'm not sure. But I don't want to sleep, because I want to do stuff. But I don't want to do stuff, because she is not mine. As if I am lost if everything I do cannot somehow be related to her. I want to experience things, but I think that knowing I can still experience things without her love, would hurt deeply. Perhaps its the mere fact that I have to, that's the problem.

Thinking of sleeping hurts, thinking of staying awake hurts.
If only there was a way to escape the pain.

It's Always You, In My Big Dreams

cause that's the way what we've got goes

There are times that I think I'll be ok with the way things are. Sometimes, it's all I want. The opportunity for an asexual relationship, that even goes as far as being non-romantic...but still as close as ours? It sounds like a wonderful idea. I'm not going to lie, that it's what I've been looking for. For just a deep knowledge of eachother, a deep, unfathomable love and understanding. I believe that's what I have with her. And I think that we will always have that, regardless of our relationship status with eachother.

On the other hand, I understand that she is the only person this is possible with. I want things to work with her, I want to be in love with her, and not just at her. I want her to stay with me, because, how perfect would that be? To be dating my soulmate, the one person I've got the deepest connection imaginable with? A lot of the time I feel, if I can't have a relationship with her...then I don't really want to have one with anyone else. Not even in an emo sort of way, just sort of matter of fact. I do believe that I will love her forever, for the rest of my life, whether we are dating or not. I know that no other romantic relationship could yield what I have with her, so there is no point in pursuing them.

Most of the time, I'm ok with that. I'm perfectly content. But I know I will always desire more with her. That's why I hope she feels the same way.

Oh Sweetheart, Put The Bottle Down

As the eves of my friends' nineteenth birthdays approach, I am filled with dread. Nineteen of course, is the age in this country where one can legally drink. This signifies my demise, or rather the demise of our friendships. I will be cast aside for a bottle of cheap beer. My friends will drink and they will ignore me. Why? Because I will not. And I cannot put up with those who do. I can't be around them, cannot handle it.

I have tried to be tolerant, mostly as a justification to myself. "Everyone in the world does this, how will you make friends, how will you find love, if you do not become accustomed to this?". But I can't do that anymore. It fills me with rage, with disgust, that people can do this to themselves, claiming it as some sort of recreation. They destroy their bodies and their mind, but why? Are they so useless that they cannot have fun, can't see anything as worthwhile unless they can pump poison into their bodies? In the very least, do they not care about themselves? Do they not care about those around them that are harmed by such behaviour?

Personally, I can hardly find it in me to have respect for someone who so clearly does not respect themselves. And how can one form friendships, relationships, with someone they can hardly even respect? Can one love without respecting? I find that to be a shallow type of friendship.

My body has been compromised to please others for long enough, and now I have realized it's importance. This body is all I have in the world, and if I do not take care of it, who will? What will I have left? They say "Oh, it's just for fun". Tell me how is destroying yourself, your body, your mind, and your dignity, fun? You are human beings, you have such potential, and yet you wrong yourselves.

I see the world with clear eyes, a sober mind, and pure veins. I will not be torn from my path, I will not succumb to their lies.

Life After Humans

I saw a special about a post-apocalyptic world, where humans had suddenly gone extinct. Nature began growing and overtook everything that humans had made, and destroyed most of it in abou 150 years. By that point, all of the polution we had put into the air has been depleted to nothing, through nature's ingenuity.

A lot of people are afraid of the apocalypse. I can admit that I was looking forward to it - its sounds like such an adventure, trying to stay alive for as long as possible in a world like that. After seeing this though, I've got different reasons. I think I could be at peace with an apocalypse, even with all the stuff I have not accomplished yet. If I could somehow contribute to the world reverting back to how it should be, before us humans messed it up? If I had to die for that to happen, I think I would be ok with it. There is more to this planet than just me, and humans are NOT the most or only important lifeforce on this planet.

Perhaps if our planet was without humans, long enough for it to go back to its beautiful splendor, in hundreds of thousands of years, humans would evolve again. Maybe they would be different. Maybe we would get a second chance. To say "I love you, and I'm sorry" to the Earth.
And if they weren't different, we could have some peace in knowing, the same thing will happen to them.

Tell me when that breeze is blowing...

Recently I told someone that the thing I love about nature is....that is just is. Nature is so simple, and everything happens as it should happen and has been happening for billions of years. True, nature is complicated, terrifically complicated, and that's what makes it beautiful. But that is also what makes it simple. You know with nature. You don't have to guess, or explain, like you do with humans. You don't have to read into nature, what it does, where a tree decides to grow. It just happens because it does, because it is beautiful and right.

I think it is also that I know nature will not try to hurt me. Yes, I know that it can. But it is not malicious. If nature destroys something, there is no hidden meaning, it is just an occurance. There is no need to question these events, or ask "why did this happen to me?". The answer is simple...nature will keep going on, no matter how much we want to stay still. No matter how much people or society want everything to be the same...nature will keep going on regardless. There is no point fighting it. This is why we should live in harmony with nature...for both of our sakes.

In that way I suppose nature is the kind of person I want to be. Just growing, and living, regardless. Nature makes no excuses and while it evolves to survive...it doesn't change for other people. If you don't like nature, you're gonna have to get over it because, there is nothing you can do about it. I also long for how nature is a part of everything. Nature connects everyone and everything - after all, we live on this planet! I feel like a part of nothing whenever I try to interact with people. With nature there is no difficulty...I already know I am a part of that. But people are completely alien to me.

What am I to do?

A Cease to the Growing.

At this point in time I am faced with a dilemma. It's something that doesn't particularly bother me at all, but also that I am absolutely bitter about having to do.

It doesn't bother me, after all, because I lived so much of my life like this before, I know what it's like, I'm used to it. But it was something I thought I wouldn't have to do again, I thought I was safe from it.

I thought there were people who would be there for me but I was wrong.

Maybe it is a lesson for me, never get too comfortable. After all, a Grey is always meant to be alone. Maybe I was foolish to think things could be different. Well, now I've been told it can never change, so what am I going to do?

Silly me, I am going to believe it.

A part of me says that this is so stupid, so pathetic, but another part doesn't care. Or in truth, most of me is too tired to care anymore. Too tired to do anything. But why can't I sleep?

If I am destined to this anyway, I might as well get used to it. To all these lies, broken promises and empty concerns. To things that I can't handle.

Oh silly me, for a moment I thought I mattered.

Forgive me, I've come back to my senses now.

See, The Sea Wants to Take Me

I walked, again.

Goddess, I was sick. And the rain was pouring. I didn't go there to kill myself, I promise. I needed the water, I just wanted to feel the water. I got the plan in my head, out of the blue. It was a long way to walk for just a plan, but for once I wanted to not give up on an idea that I had. So I walked.

It was raining, and I was already cold by the time I got there. The stream was full, but that was to be expected, from the rain. I didn't know what I was walking towards, I felt numb even in the face of that beauty. As I walked along the bank, the water got deeper and deeper, darker and darker. It's spring, I should have anticipated it. I climbed up the hill, one slip away from falling into the deep pool beside me, then onto the train tracks. It looked different from what I remembered. Water frothed from the three pipes, so much more violent than on the other side. It spread out, white and foamy, as if its own living mass. I waited a moment to take it in, the magnitude of my plan. As I walked down to the water's edge, I knew I would die if I decided to go into that pool. I told you, I wasn't going there to die. I walked downstream to find a calmer spot.

I hung my coat up on a tree, and crossed the river. The water rose up to my knees and froze my bones. It's spring.
The current was stronger than it had looked. But isn't that what they always tell you? Not to underestimate the power of water? I knew something horrible could happen, but I went on. Looking for a deeper place. I crossed to the other side, watching the water break over the rocks before me. On the sandy bank, I saw something. a small string of beads, barely above the dirt. I walked to it and grabbed hold, gently pulling it from the sand. A rosary came up in my hand. Was that a sign? I cleaned it in the freezing water, and hung it around my neck. I carried on.

Trying to cross the river again, I could no longer feel the cold. I held onto the slippery branches of a tree, to stop myself from being carried downstream. If I found what I was looking for on this particular day, I would surely die. But the water was not as deep as what I sought. She was telling me, I didn't have to do this. True, I came here with a plan, but I didn't have to go through with this. The rosary, She gave me a sign. It wasn't meant to be like this, and there is no shame in turning back.

Cold and numb, I walked home.

"The water will never rise high enough to carry you away"

Lead me home to my town

I'm longing for a relationship.
But not of the kind I had previously thought. I think perhaps, you could call it an aromantic relationship, although I know I have a highly romanticised vision of it. I need a brotherhood, a comradery, trust. A true relationship. The kind you see in movies, or read about in strange fantasy novels. It's like a state of knowing. Perfect love, and perfect trust. Where each knows all about the other, understands, and is there anyway.
It's a deep thing, and yet at the same time, so simple. A relationship without fear. I have always looked for a home in the hearts of those I have been in love with, yet how can that be when they are so inconstant? It has been said, that we put so much effort into our romantic relationships - because we expect them to end. So much so, that we neglect our friendships - our brotherhoods - because we expect them to always be there.
This type of kinship is such an active thing, but passive at the same time. The flame is always burning, except you trust it, and don't feel the need to tremble in its wake, to rush to its every whim for fear that it will burn out.
A trust that if you need it, if you call it, it will come to you without complaint or second guesses. The kind of thing that you would die with, happily.
It banishes insecurity and instability, just by existing.
This is what I want to build.
And interestingly enough, this is the formula for my perfect romantic relationship as well - except that would have the addition of kissing.

As well as this, I long for a homeland. For a town or a place, no matter how small, that I feel love and loyalty to. A place I can resonate with and belong to. And I believe these two relationships go hand in hand. I want to work the land, I want to build a home, a family, I want to build a life. Our pioneers did just that. And they didn't have much, not even certainty of the future, but they did have eachother. A love that outshone any hardship. A love above all else.
Will you build that with me?

And you keep waiting for someone to save you...

Someone said something that really made me consider things, or the way things have been for quite a while. I'll admit there are times when I am obsessed with the notion of someone "saving" me. Growing up in the home I did, I would plead every night for a way out. I was weak to those who gave promise of that - even if it was never meant to be, I couldn't realize it at the time. Even after I found my way out, that mentality stuck.

It makes sense that that would translate into how I view love. And it's not just that. When you think of it, we are raised believing that when we are in trouble, and prince on a white horse will ride by and save us, and we will fall in love with him. Now I'm not sure if this quite made me fall in love with someone who saved me (granted those who've saved me have always been those who I love), however it has made me expect that the person I love should save me, and if they don't, do they really love me?

I haven't just been waiting as a damsel in distress though. I earn my keep - How can I expect someone to save me if I don't return the favour? My life is dedicated to protecting the person I love, anyone who knows me would agree, I would do anything for her. But I always feel alone. I'm not fooling myself that I don't have any problems. There are horrible things going on in my head. But when I ask for help, where is it? It always results in me feeling abandoned, as if I am standing in the fire shouting "save me!" and the one who is supposed to do that stand idly by.

Now I know the next reasonable thought is "So save yourself." but this is where I become confused. Part of this problem is feeling an isolation from the rest of the world. I never seem to feel like I am fitting in, and not just floating around among everyone else. I've longed for an anchor that I can hold onto and remind me that I'm still here. It isn't like I ask for much. But when things in my head are horrible - which they have been so often - all I want is for once, not to be alone. To have someone there just to hold me, to be with. That enough is comfort. But its rare and I'm still searching. And still hoping that the person I've dedicated my life to will be the person to save me. I rationalize with myself, maybe once she's better herself, your time will come. Just wait a little longer.

Just be a little more patient, and someone will protect you from all of this.

Take It Back

watashi-tachi tte nee koibito sore tomo?

I wasn't always a good person. It even took me a long time to realize that I am now.

I loved to hurt people, and I can't say why. Fighting filled me with unmatched happiness and exhilaration. It still does.

And I used to do anything, to get what I wanted. I would make fake deals, phony promises. And it didn't matter. I was a spy, I manipulated people and I liked it. "I promise" was just a phrase to seal the deal, it meant nothing to me.
But I later realized. I found honour and grew into it. I can't tell you how, or why, but it happened. At a time when I had no loyalties, I became a very honourable person. The value of a promise became clear to me.

Now, don't get me wrong. I know now that being a good person does not mean others won't do you wrong. But I don't understand people and promises, right now. When you promise something, think long and hard about it, because that isn't something you can take back. A promise, is a promise. Breaking it so nonchalantly? That's unacceptable.

I talked earlier about people giving up too easily. I would have, too. But someone told me something that changed everything, and now I realize that.

Last night we were driving on the highway, and traffic was stalled. The radio said, "Police investigation." and when we reached that point, the area under an overpass was blocked off. There was an ambulance. I didn't see anyone, but the police were marking things off on the pavement.

"I hope no one jumped off the bridge" my dad said, beside me.

My blood felt cold. That could have been me, I realized. I could have done that (and I could have, believe me). Not anymore.

I suppose it's as the Christians say, "God will never give you anything you can't handle." I guess the choice of whether to handle it is up to us. Now I don't completely believe that Goddess "gives" you what happens to you, but I do know this - there will always be many paths through it. And it is your choice whether to see them or not. She'll present them, but it's you who has to take the first step.

I didn't want to.

But now I can, if it comes to that.

For now, I am still working on my problems, because I made a promise, and I won't go back on that.

Even if she will.

But You Tell Me, Over and Over...

Why would I run?
I did a lot of thinking during that time, about what would have been right or not. I asked myself if I really did want to kill myself, if she left. And it all just seemed like such a waste. Here I am, a living, growing human being...and I could throw that all away in a moment. I don't want to think about it, because it reminds me of how much I would be tempted, if that happened. What would I be to anyone, if not this? It would make sense to die, but at the same time, it would make no sense at all.
So I decided on not dying, if one day she should decide she has no more use for me. But I would run. Even though I have an amazing family who I know would help me through it, I would run. I don't know what brings me to that conclusion, but it seems...if I just walk, and never stop, I can burn it off, or something to that effect.
I would have nothing to do but think of it. But the emotions would be let out by the steady motion of my feet, and I would not have the chance to fall. If I stayed among those who care for me, who would protect me, there is nothing to stop me from breaking down and never coming back again. Yes, there is nothing wrong with breaking down, especially when it is warrented. But it is equally a waste to stay that way. To work off the despair physically, until the hysteria is over. Everything I had and everything I lost would come second to the pull of muscles and the crisp feel of night air. I would keep going until I was able to stop.

But this will not happen. If it does, I have a plan, but...it won't. Beneath 18 years' worth of trust issues, betrayals, and worries, I need to have some faith left in me. I need to believe that she will love and protect me the way she promised, that this does not mean nothing to her. I've grown up believing no one would ever feel the way I did, and no matter how many people I've met share my feelings, that belief seems to have stuck.
It's hard to believe that I'm not the only one.
That I'm not as isolated as I thought.

I'm Still Here

She told me, part of why she fell for me is because I took her and showed her there was so much more to this world. That there was so much out there. Something new.

I know I haven't changed, in that fact. I always see more in the world around me, I notice the beauty even when I am breaking inside. I know that as long as there is beauty in this world I will be ok.

But maybe it's her who has changed.

She doesn't want to believe anymore, that there is more out there. She says it is not comforting that bad times will pass. That things will be alright one day. But what more do you need to keep going?

Everything is so amazing. And yet people still get caught up in everything. Afraid of losing material possessions or of temporary restrictions. And while it can look pretty daunting sometimes...there is still so much out there. So much possibility. If you don't want it you're a fool. How can you see all the beauty and not accept it? It's there, inside and out of you.

It might come from my upbringing, in a house where the "today" would never be ok. Where privileges and items were taken away daily. Where I didn't have anything in the present to hold onto except the future. You learn to appreciate things so much more. You learn the value of hope. You don't take it lightly and you don't give it up.

Is it just that my opinions don't matter as much anymore?

Can I not even make a difference in someone's life?

Simple

I'm so lucky.

For everything.

I can't believe I'm ever mad or upset or disapointed with everything I have.

And by everything I don't mean things. I mean people.

None of those material things are important. I'd be just as rich if I lived on the street or in a ditch or a box or a mansion. I can hold myself up because of everything I have.

I agree that this is not the most articulate post here but, maybe it will stop me forgetting.

I'm thankful.

That's all.

Live.

With the weather growing warm, I feel the urge to see some green in my life. I've never had much luck growing plants inside, it seems I'm no mother nature. Still, I'm amazing with how things grow. Last summer, a small pumpkin seed sprouted in my garden. The seed was left there, with the old Halloween pumpkins, the previous fall. Throughout the summer that plant grew to fill my yard with a huge pumpkin plant, which grew many pumpkins, most of them extremely large. All from a little, discarded seed.

It's at this point where I think we can all take a lesson from Mother Nature. I often find that in this world people are too quick to give up on life. To give up hope, and just stop trying. They ask, what is the point? As if the world owes you. To this I always answer, life is the point. Living. You don't see a little seed asking, "why should I grow?". They just do. And no matter where they are. How many times have you seen a plant growing between the cracks of the pavement? Or on the side of a cliff, even? Every day I amazed by the nature around me, of how perfect it all is. Things will grow, no matter what. Nature doesn't give up. Ever.

And aren't we all products of nature?

A History Of Violence

My emotions are a pretty strange thing. One moment I can see the world for all it's life and beauty, the next I get carried away with the future and absolutely enraged at the present.

I have so much anger inside me, from who knows how many places. But I've yet to find a way to release it. Or, a plausible one at least. I can't expect to just beat someone up every time I should feel the need.

I think I'm tired of living my fears. Being alone, specifically. Everything is beautiful, and I see that, but when everything is not beautiful - how come there's no one to show me that it is?

It's as if I'm right on the cusp of having everything I've ever wanted, and yet it's not fully there.

Today, I suppose I was not in the most desperate of needs, but it was still valid. I'm so tired, tired of searching for comfort. All I needed was one moment. But it was not to be - and like a child, I broke down. But at least I admitted that, I was angry. That is the first step, right? Now, there are so many things I need to do. To find a way to get this anger out.

I've been left alone in my moments of greatest pain, and a hurt like that does not settle easily. I can't pretend like it's not there anymore. These fears are very real, and very justified.

But I cannot sit here passive to their daunting form. I need to make something of it. Need to scream, to lash out at something - be it paper, flesh, anything.

There is a reason things like this aren't meant to be pent up. One day everything breaks and it all goes to Hell - I've seen it before, in my mother, and I never want to end up like her.

I love my wife, and I won't let my anger pull us apart.

I've written myself two notes as a "to do" list, and stuck them on the side of my computer. The list reads:

Don't be mean

Talk. Solve problems.

In The Night

Late last night, around midnight, I was talking to my sister online. Her parents are away on a cruise so she is home alone, and she was lonely. I offered to come to her place and keep her company, which she was happy about. During the walk to her place, I thought...this is really the kind of person I want to be.

I'm just getting used to the practice of love towards friends. Well, getting re-used to it. I lost it when I was a child, after my pack dissapated. I want to be a good person within my friend group and build a strong community to interact with as I grow older. However, I was always afraid I was too "antisocial" in order to achieve something like this.

But I know that I would love a close knit family for her children and (possibly) mine to be raised in. I never had that growing up, but I think that it would do a child well.

Seeing as I want to fulfill my calling as a housewife (or, homemaker), it is a good place for me to start - stregnthening my family bonds within my friendgroup. I see no reason why my passion cannot be communal, in fact I think it could be very helpful.

I am hopeful about my future. I think about it and am happy. I know that my wife is worried, but I'm not. I know as long as we have eachother things will be ok. Our world was built by people who had nothing to their name but love. She is afraid of being the breadwinner, and sometimes I feel bad for placing that burden on her - but I know that because of this, she will all the more need my care and devotion as a wife and homemaker. It is not as if I refuse to work, should we need...but I would worry about her health if she didn't have someone like me looking after her.

It's not surprising

"Does that mean you don't care if I cry?"

"I do care"

"Ok..."

"I'm just saying it's not surprising."

I'm not going to lie, that I do cry a lot. Probably more than the "average" person. But that doesn't mean it should be taken lightly.

I don't know what it is with me and crying. It's been like that since I was a little kid. I'd go to call on my friend, and if she wasn't allowed to play I'd cry all the way home (which was thankfully just around the corner).

Now it seems to be emerging even more. I cry at school. They all probably think I'm a nutcase. But at least its not as bad as it was earlier this year.

I'm not trying to make her feel bad, by acting like this - although, maybe I am. I know I shouldn't be trying to make her feel bad. But it doesn't mean I don't try it sometimes. Maybe this is what my mother meant when she said I was manipulative?

But no, because it doesn't work. Even if I try to make her feel bad she won't. Or won't show it. Which might be good, since she shouldn't be feeling bad anyway. I only want her to be happy but...sometimes it'd be nice to see she cares.