I am so ridiculous. And so fucking hopeless.

I mean, really. To the extreme.

December 9, 2012. I wrote a post about "a certain guy I play Grand Theft Auto with." And about how I was spiraling.

I'm sort of doing that now. But that's because I haven't talked to him, heard his voice, since Friday night.

Downright, absolutely pathetic.

Yes, I'm still talking to him. And I've come to the conclusion I have stronger feelings for him that I would like to admit.

I've kind of said things to him that I regret saying. In French, of course, but I've said them. And he's translated the words. He knows what they mean.

Je t'aime and je te veux being the biggest ones.

Mhm, I said them. I don't know why. I also said I loved him, in English, but I was drunk. And I said it to both him and his cousin because they were being funny. But then later, while I was still a little drunk, I confessed that I meant it more towards him than his cousin.

I don't know what's happening to me. I'm being ridiculous. I can't go for more than a few hours without wanting to text him or talk to him. And it's dangerous. Why do I fall for guys I can't be with?

And I've not been dealing with Pop-Pop's death so well lately. Father's Day, I cried. I was working on homework for my finals (because I had emergency surgery the day that finals started this semester, so I got an extension) that Sunday, because they were due that Monday. So at around one or two Monday morning, I started thinking about why Dad didn't want to celebrate Father's Day this year, and what last Father's Day was like. Everyone knew it would be Pop-Pop's last one. And how right we all were.

But I just broke down. That entire night/morning I was crying, it felt like. Because later, I revised an essay I wrote about my Nana who died in 2006. The day after Mother's Day. And I wrote about how I didn't really mourn for her, but yet I'll never forget her. And about how I will never know if she loved me. Or if I was sad about her dying, and if I was, if it was because a human who I had known since I was born had died, or if it was because I lost my grandmother, a person that I loved. I don't even know if I loved her.

But what hurts the most is that I have to wonder if my grandmother loved me. And it's not like she's the kind of grandmother who lived states away and I never met or only saw one or twice in my life. I knew exactly who she was. I saw her maybe two or three times a year. I spent a couple nights at her house. We only spent one-on-one quality time together once in my life. And because of all this, I don't know if she ever loved me.

Pop-Pop, Grammy, and Grampy, I know they love me. But Nana? No clue. Honestly, I don't think she really did. Not at all. Not one bit.

Why is life so fucked up and complicated?