Everything is so messed up right now. My feelings for him have yet to change. He gets jealous of other guys. He'll say things that are so obviously from jealousy, but denies being jealous. He took me through his hometown a few days ago on our way to Binghamton. Showed me where he grew up. We share a spoon while eating ice cream from the carton. We share drinks and food at the restaurant. We go out to eat all the time. And yet he claims to have no feelings for me. The only thing actual couples do that we don't is hug and kiss. My dad says he is having a hard time wrapping his head around the idea that not every woman is like his mother, with whom he has a piss-poor relationship. He said to give Zach an ultimatum, either you like me or you're out of here. Coming from someone who had a piss-poor relationship with his mother, my dad's advice is certainly something to think about. But I don't know. I can't understand Zach. And I wish so fucking much that I knew for sure whether I should keep waiting or move on. I wouldn't mind waiting and working on us if I knew he definitely still had feelings and would come around to wanting me again. But if I knew, one hundred percent, that he is completely over and there is no hope of winning him back over, I could commit to moving on. But not knowing for sure, I keep wavering. Because he'll say things like, "I have no feelings," as well as, "I'm going to stand outside the bar, looking through the window with binoculars." He's torturing me. Absolutely torturing me.

McKayla is getting annoyed with him. Megan and Mary Ann hate him for using me. John thinks I need to kick him out. Everyone is, rightfully so, against him. And in all fairness, I know he should go. I know I'll never have a single hope in getting over him if I live with him. I know some space and distance would be good for us if I truly want anything between us to work. But he has no one in his corner. He dislikes and has no respect for his mother and older brother. He was absolutely miserable in Buffalo. As unhappy as he is now, here, he'd be worse off there. His alleged friend since elementary school would have let him freeze to death in the snow than let him stay with her. He has no one. I care about him more than anyone. Of course I care enough to want to be there for him and be the one person in his corner. That is why I'll never kick him out. I just wish he'd make the decision to move out on his own. I wish he would hear me when I tell him looking at him is painful because I still have feelings for him. I wish he would hear me when I tell him I cry myself to sleep and would rather sleep on the couch than a cold, empty bed. I wish he would hear me when I tell him that I'm mad at him for not giving me a second chance. I wish he would hear me when I tell him he doesn't get to be jealous when he tells me he has no feelings for me. But he doesn't. And I don't know what to do anymore. I'm being torn in ten directions all at once and I'm beyond stretching; I'm beginning to tear.

I don't yell as often. I'm giving him his space. I love him living here. But I don't think he loves it. He seems miserable, and there's nothing I can do. I would give anything for us to be okay. I'm sleeping on the couch. He's in my bed. Except the past couple nights, I've slept in the bed and he's taken the couch, but only because I was doped up on Zzzquil, which I've been taking too much of lately.

I try to drink with him to maybe reconnect with him, but it backfires each time. I get a little too close and he pushes me away. Or, at least, that's what it seems. But it feels like rejection and it causes me to shut down because it hurts. It cuts into my soul, and I feel the sting in my heart. Almost always, I immediately go to bed. I chug Zzzquil and sleep for way too long. It's unhealthy. I know it's destroying me and numbing me. I seek attention from my male coworkers to fill the void. I'm not physically doing anything with them yet, but I already have plans to go out with one next payday. I mentioned it tonight in front of Zach, but said I was going with coworkers, plural. I don't know if I want to tell Zach I'm going out with another guy yet. If I was a hundred percent certain it would work to my benefit, I'd bring it up in a heartbeat. But I'm so afraid it'll push him away more. He doesn't seem like the type to fight for what he wants. He has too little motivation and self-confidence for that.

So what do I do? I don't cry anymore at the thought of not being able to kiss him, even though I would give anything to feel his lips on mine just once more. I would kill to have his hands all over me. I still do anything for him. But the other night I asked him how long we're going to live like this, with me doing everything for him. All he said was he was going to start applying for jobs more often. I think he actually did apply for some today. But that's not what I care about. Money is just money. Love is what I want. Affection. Attention. I don't want to just be roommates. I don't know if he knows for sure, but I keep dropping hints. I'm not good at just coming out and saying what I want. Mostly because I don't know when a good time to say something is, and partly because I hate confrontation. But sometimes it gets bottled up too long and I burst and my message is delivered, but both too late and not in an effective way. So it's pointless. But I don't think Zach wants to know that I want him and I'm in misery having to live with someone for which I have unrequited feelings. I don't entirely want him to know it, either, because then he might leave. And he has no where else to go.

I'm so stuck right now. So torn. I don't know what to do.

It's been too long since I've written. 2017 was a rough year for me. After I broke up with Shawn, I got myself into some trouble. John M. He was a supervisor, so above me in the chain of command. We both could've gotten fired for what we did. We kissed in the back room. I visited him in his car at the top of the parking lot, where cameras couldn't reach. I almost fell for him before coming to my senses. His wife was pregnant.

Then there was Spencer. A huge waste of time he was, much like Shawn. At first, while he was still in the hospital for suicidal thoughts, we connected. He was amazing. We could talk for hours on the phone. After he got out, everything went downhill. We met. He took my virginity. We drank too much and he pushed me too often. I spent so much money on gas for him. He didn't have a job the entire time we went out, so I paid for everything. He got mad when I said I couldn't, because he was like, but you have a job and I don't. I broke up with him because I drove almost an hour and a half to visit him, and he hid away in his game room to play Call of Duty. If he had played in the living room, that would've been fine. At least we could've been near each other. But he stuck his headphones on and shut the door. It took him between thirty to sixty minutes (can't remember) to realize I was gone. That was a rough break-up.

But even before I was done with Spencer, there was Zach. Just before I started spending time with him, I mentioned to McKayla that I don't fall for guys like I used to. Ethan, Vic, Lazar. I fell stupidly head-over-heels for them. I was hung up on Ethan for two years. But I could barely get through three months with either Spencer or Shawn. Then I fell for Zach.

Being with Zach has been both the most amazing thing ever to happen in my life, and the most destructive. I love him. I'm fully convinced. Stephanie once explained to me that love is the feeling I get when I look at Princess. And I get that feeling when I look at Zach. But I'm destroying him. He's destroying me. We're toxic together. But the thought of losing him leaves me unable to breathe. I feel like I'm holding him here, suffocating him, just because I don't want to lose him. I don't think he wants to be here anymore. I asked him last night why we used to cuddle watching movies but don't anymore. He said because I've screamed in his face too much. I've ruined what we had and I don't think we can get that back. Nothing kills me more than knowing I've ruined the best thing that has ever happened to me. The thought of never getting him back brings me to a dark place. Just typing this now, I can't breathe. I try to inhale and I just can't. I don't entirely want to. I don't want to let him go. I don't want to find someone new. I don't want anything but him. I think he might know that, but that's not going to do anything. It's not going to change the fact that all I do is yell at him. Even still, after we talked about the fact that all I do is yell, I can't stop.

If you have to ask, then you're not in love. I've written about love. The feeling that no one else in the world must be as in love as you, that you certainly are asleep because the love feels like a fairy tale: that is love. I wasn't in love with Shawn. Not as much as I wish I had been. It was a crush, one I got over too quickly. I was stuck in a relationship with him for three and a half months, about two and a half months longer than I should have been. It was the fact that I had met his daughter that prevented me from ending things.

But I finally did. It was a long time coming. As I've explained over and over again, we didn't connect. No deep conversations. No bonding. No laughter. No discussions. No arguments. We couldn't talk about anything without it circling back to him. I wouldn't see him until I picked him up or went to him. He was a mat that lay on the ground, letting everyone walk over him. Even when I broke up with him, he just stared at me with blank eyes.

Emotion. That's what's been missing in his eyes. I was talking to Marissa today about that eerie look in his eyes when I broke up with him. I've never liked his eyes because I always felt there was something missing. That something is emotion.

Well, I was on a roll until I went to Facebook to see if I could find a photo of Shawn's eyes, and ended up going through all his photos while getting unsettled by his gaze in a few of them. It's interesting how things have changed...

I was flipping through this wedding catalog that was delivered to my apartment randomly, and it occurred to me that my grandmother won't be at my wedding, should I ever get married. I'd never be able to share one of the most important moments in my life with her. She'll never get to tell me if she approves of Shawn or not. I think she'd like him. I think Pop-Pop would, too. But he'll never get to approve or disapprove of him, either.

The reality of having to live through every accomplishment without my Grammy is still hitting hard. But, then again, it hasn't even been a year yet. It'll take some getting used to.

So much has happened the past year. Things I never thought possible. I lost my grandmother. One of the most amazing and important people in my life, someone I realistically knew I'd lose at some point but someone I pretended would be there forever. I was addicted to pain killers for a few months. I still have slip-ups. I started a new job in the electronics department of a retail giant. I went on my first real date. Went on my second. And my third. (All with different guys, no less.) Entered my first real relationship. Had my first real kiss, among other things. Bought my first car, and had my first accident. 2016 has been a roller coaster. It's been horrible, but it's had its highlights.

It's times like this that I have to stop and think about everything. Reflect on where I started and where I am now. If you had told me, five years ago, I'd have my own car and license, I'd be living on my own with a real job, in retail even, and be juggling free time, my best friend, and a boyfriend, I'd tell you you're reading the wrong future. That can't possible be mine. And I thoroughly believed that. Given the way I was born, the way I lived—and still live—it was realistic for me to believe that. I'm still amazed. Every day I feel like I'll wake up and this dream, this fantasy, will end. I'll go back to having nothing. Well, almost.

Even with all the amazing things in my life, there's still enough to keep me down, still enough obstacles to make me remember everything will always be a challenge. I will never get off easy, I'll never have a "get out of jail free" card. I don't know if it keeps me grounded in reality, or it's life trying to knock me down, or if it's the universe showing me that I can never let my guard down, or if it's some omnipresent being proving that I'm stronger than anyone ever realized. I can't decide.

There are some things I have decided upon, for sure. One, Pink Floyd and Blackmill can always calm me, no matter what. Two, the only way I'll get a new car is if someone pries me away from the leaking, creaking dumpster I call my Cavalier. Three, my friends and family are crazy and drive me nuts, but I would never trade them for the world, and with them I can accomplish anything. Four, anything is truly possible.

We bury my grandmother tomorrow. She passed away January 21, and we're burying her tomorrow. I don't want to do this. It's hard to believe she's really gone. I've avoided their house because I don't want to acknowledge that she's gone. I've been neglecting my grandfather, though. It's fucking hard. Losing Pop-Pop was hard, but I didn't have to face it because I didn't have to go to his house and directly feel his absence. I mean, it's hard enough that he isn't at any family functions, but it's not as bad as it would be if I had to go to his house. But going to Grampy's house, I can't do it. I did a couple times after Grammy's passing, but I was still numb. I was still taking pain killers. Her death has settled, but going back... I feel horrible that I can't face him but I just can't. Losing her has been so hard. I knew it would never be easy, but I wasn't prepared for it to be this difficult.

About four months ago I started a new job. About three and a half months ago this guy started working at the same place, same department. About a week and a half ago, I started talking to this new guy that I met on this dating website.

My coworker, John, is pretty awesome. He's adorable, has gorgeous eyes, is fun to mess with, can be caring (when he wants to be) but annoying at the same time. We get along really well, we have fun together at work, I've been told that we flirt a lot. But he is in a relationship. He's been friends with this girl for six or seven years, but in a relationship for the past two or three. She recently started working at the same place we work, but a different department. It has changed my friendship with John. It sucks. But he's also been getting less sleep because the girl doesn't drive. She's like eighteen or nineteen and doesn't have her license. So he has to drive her around. Seeing how she tends to work mornings and he tens to work nights, this is getting really difficult for him. One of our other coworkers, Chelsey, says that he's probably rethinking wanting to marry this girl. I really care about John. I've have feelings for him for a couple months now and it's been difficult to deal with. What, specifically these feelings are, I don't know. I don't know if I just like him as a friend and I like flirting with him and I simply don't want to share him with his girlfriend, or if I actually want more of a relationship with him. I do know that I hate his girlfriend, that I don't want her to work there anymore, and that I want our friendship to go back to the way it was.

And I've thought about it, and it really has changed. When I would say bite me to him, he would ask where. When I got annoyed with him about something, he would be like, "But you love me!" or "But I love you!" He doesn't say any of that anymore. He doesn't mess around with me like he used to--but he's also been more tired lately, and I guess sick, too probably from a lack of sleep), so maybe that's why. But still. I can't help but wonder what it would be like if he were single...

At the same time, though, I've been getting really close to this guy, Dillon. He's just so amazing. The way we connect when talking, the way he seems actually interested and like he really cares, the way he's taken the time to understand me and actually wants to help me. Like, I can't explain what draws me to him, but it's there. We've spent hours talking each night for almost a week, and like... I don't know. We've had deeper conversations than I've ever had with any other guy. I don't feel as strongly for him as I did with, say, Ethan or Connor or Damon. But I feel like there might be more of a connection. Maybe not more than Damon. Not yet. But I knew Damon for over a year before I cut ties with him. I mean, there are flaws about Dillon. He's way too hyper and random--and that's coming from me. He's friends with all his exes, and he has this desire to fix everyone--even other females. I'm afraid I'll be far too jealous to be with him. I don't know. Then there's always my fear of intimacy. With John, there's no prospect for physical intimacy. With John, it's all just an emotional bond. We're truly just friends and as long as he has a girlfriend, it will always be that way. But Dillon, he's single. So that's why Dillon is more intimidating than John. It's safe to like John because nothing can happen there. It's dangerous to like Dillon because that would mean doing things I've never done before. I'm the type of person to want someone I can't have, and if I accidentally like someone I can have, I fuck it up on purpose. Also, I work with John. He's seen me on bad days, and on good. I've seen him in the same way. Dillon and I are just at the online communication stage. John and I see each other several times a week. So that's another reason I'm less afraid of John than Dillon.

And, something I've recently began to worry about is if Dillon and I--or anyone and I, for that matter--become a thing, how will that affect my friendship with John? How should it, versus how will it? The way John and I are, I would not be okay with if I were his girlfriend. So do I want to be like that, flirting shamelessly and fooling around with another guy at work while having a boyfriend? I mean, it's not like we're doing anything really wrong. But it's still just weird.

Oh, and something else: John has begun booping me on the head like a kitty. This started a couple days ago. Every time he does it, I want to just grab his hand. And yesterday he had a rubberband around his wrist and I kept snapping it. He let me. Physical contact. This has increased since his girlfriend started.  I probably think too into every little thing with John...And, he wants me to play PlayStation with him. We're friends on PSN, and that happened after his girlfriend started. He wants me to play 7 Days to Die with him. He says he and I will play, and he'll make me a master so that I can play with Dylan and not make a fool out of myself. Like, he had it all planned out. And when I'm having a bad day, John notices and he keeps asking until I tell him why. He says he cares (which, one day, was the reason I was having a bad day). Like... Man oh man.

So, will I fuck things with Dillon up on purpose? Will John break up with his girlfriend? If he does, will I have a chance? Do I want to stay single forever just for the chance with John? Or do I want to go for something I might actually have a chance at? For the first week, the more I thought about Dillon, the less I thought about John. Now, the more I think about John, the less I think about Dillon. I don't know what the fuck to do. This is certainly a first--being conflicted between two guys like this. And I can't even have one of them. He's taken.

I think a common theme here is that I never know what to do, and I never have a clear path in life. I have no idea what I want or how to achieve it. And I'm afraid of taking chances if it means closing other doors. That what if in life has me so stumped that I do nothing, because what if it isn't what I want? I feel like I'm just wasting my life because I don't know what I want.

I just want to take a peek into the future. Maybe just five years. See what it is I should be working towards. Where will I be? What will I be doing? Who will I be with? I used to think surviving was the hardest part of life. It's a miracle that I've moved past that. Now, it's making decisions.

The professor helping me with my senior project once told me he never knew either of his grandmothers. Thinking back now, he missed out on so much. Grandmothers are the most amazing people in the world. Grandparents in general are. They're the ones you can get into trouble with, the ones who spoil you and love you unconditionally. At least, when you have the right grandparents. I had three of those kind of grandparents. I think I am one of the luckiest people because of that. Not everyone does.

But grandmothers. I've had both kinds. The kind that has little love to give out; the kind that calls aunts to come help out because she can't connect with the grandkids; the kind that makes loving grandchildren all about herself and a contest to see how great she can be, without ever really loving that grandchild. And I've also had the type that tries to learn the names of cartoon characters even though she can't pronounce Japanese words; the kind that knows exactly what you're going to order at a restaurant and what juice to bring down when visiting, the kind your parents don't usually buy for you; the kind that buys your pets Christmas presents each year even though she hardly ever sees them; the kind that knew all your friends and even treated the friends well; the kind that cares about your other side of the family, even though she rarely saw them too; the kind that remembers every dinky little gift you've given them and treats it like it was the absolute best thing ever; the kind that always has a hug and kind words even when you were just punished by your parents; the kind that would snuggle with you in bed when you visited her, and read part of some silly crime novel each night. Grammy was everything. Will always be everything.

Dad doesn't want me going over to see her. He says she's not herself. But I miss her already. I miss who she was. I would give anything to snuggle with her in bed and read some Nancy Drew-type novel with her. Or to go out into the trees and play house. Or to ride bikes with her and get scared about possible foxes nearby so that she can reassure me that everything was fine. Or go to the camp and make houses and buildings out of little rocks and twigs by the lake. Or go out rafting with her on Goodyear Lake and take a book and read it. Or play Bargain Hunter or some other board game from the fifties and sixties. Or watch movies with her only to hear her try to retell it later, turn a two-hour movie into a three-hour explanation. Or play school with her and try to teach her French that she loved listening to but could never pronounce. Or play piano with her, because she was really good and I always wanted to play like her. All the silly little things about her, I miss. All the things that I can see Mom got from her.

All the things you don't realize you miss until she's not herself anymore. I wish I was still at home so I can be with Mom. It can't be easy being all alone at home right now. At least she has Ginger. Even having a pet can make a world of difference when you're grieving. I know I wish I had my cats. Because you can cry to them and they can't judge you for crying, they can't cry and make it harder, you don't feel foolish or silly crying in front of them. And you don't have to worry about being strong for them. You can just let yourself cry and they're there to snuggle with you. But I really want to be with Mom right now. Crying with her isn't going to be easy. But I need her. I can't imagine what she's going through. She would tell herself that her parents would live forever because she didn't want to think about what would happen when they don't. Just like how I pretend my cats will live forever.

I didn't want to think about life after Grammy or Grampy either. I still don't. They just were always healthy and there. I took them for granted. I never really stopped and appreciated that they were there or that someday they won't be.

And now it's too late. Grammy will never be who she was. I just want to go hold her and never let go. I want to believe that that could somehow work. I love that silly woman so much. Just as much as I love Pop-Pop and Grampy. Those are just three amazing people that I never thought I'd have to live without. But my whole life I've been closest to Grammy. I was her dollie. I'll always be her dollie.

It would help if I were closer to Donna, Nathan, and Emily. I'm close to Donna and John, I guess. But like, with Pop-Pop, it was so nice to have Marissa, Lindsay, Liz, Sue, Jordan, and Jessica there. We all supported each other. Liz was there for Dad. I know Mom and Donna are there for each other. But like, I wish Nathan and Emily and I could be there for each other like we were on Dad's side. But at least I still have Dad's family now. And I have Dad. I don't want to make Mom feel worse. So I'll cry to Dad for now. I just wish I were home still so I could be with Mom. Maybe I'll go tomorrow night.

It's not my fault that I'm so unhappy all the time. My mind's been trained to feel depressed, and because that's what I'm used to, it's what makes me feel most comfortable. Being happy feels nice, but I don't like it for too long.

But I think what's important is that I'm conscious of this, and that I'm actually taking the steps to not be so unhappy all the time. That has to count for something.

So when my parents yell at me for always being so unhappy and pessimistic all the time... I wish they would know that I'm trying. Life hasn't been easy for me, and I'm still learning to move past it. I wish they could be more patient sometimes.

Actually, I think the fact that they're still there for me and and definitely love me means that they are being patient.

On a side note, senior project is going to kill me and I'll be dead by May!

God, it’s been so long since I was on this little computer. Do I miss it? Yeah, somewhat. It’s so little! The keyboard isn’t as good as my new one. I used to like it, but now it just sounds clunky. It’s hard to explain.

Music is great! If I could go back and re-do my life, or at least re-plan my college education, I’d go to Purchase first. Double-major in Creative Writing and French. Minor in maybe computer science, something music, or both. The only downfall would be I would never have met Jess. I wouldn't want Jess not in my life. She's my bestest buddy. So I guess the only good thing about screwing up my college education and not getting everything I wanted out of it is that I get an amazing friend from it. A friend I don't always deserve.

I really did screw up my college education. I'm only getting writing out of it. Not French, like I always dreamed. Nothing with computers or graphics or web design like I really wanted. I didn't even do anything with music, like I recently thought would have been cool. I've really wasted these five years studying shit I couldn't care less about, minus the writing. Sometimes I hate myself and my fucked up decisions.

But to keep myself from crying and stressing over the shit I've done, I have to believe that I did it all for a reason. Or I was influenced or whatever for a reason. That somehow, in the long run, it will work out for the best. I mean, I got a bestest buddy out of starting, and fucking up, at Herkimer. Maybe not getting the French and/or music degrees will somehow do something for me in the future.

I really don't think so, though. And it really depresses me to think that I didn't get all out of Purchase that I wanted to.

Yuck. All that garbage about love, it's disgusting. Man oh man. How did I let myself get that crazy?

I don't know what happened. Sometime last semester, after Thanksgiving maybe, something changed. Then by December, I had had enough. The over-used clichés, the not being able to be his top priority, the age difference... Everything just got to be too much and I didn't want it any more. I fell out of love. I think the loss of the feeling was worse to deal with than the loss of the guy himself.

Is that bad? Sad? Life?

I broke up with him in the middle of December, the week of the fifteenth. I can't remember what day exactly. I felt so much better, though. He got mad, then he was okay, then he texted me the next day as if nothing had happened. My mistake: I told him I'd always love him. I think I was lying even at that point, but I was still trying to convince myself. So I eventually had to tell him that we couldn't text every day anymore, because it felt too much like I had accomplished nothing. Then we hardly talked for a while.

Now, he keeps texting me like we're still close friends. I don't want to be at this point anymore, though. He says he still loves me, like he really does. And I don't know how to tell him that those feelings are gone for me. I don't really care about him anymore. He just stresses me. He's becoming clingy, and I can't stand that.

I feel like such a dick for wanting him to let me go. I even asked him if he had a new girlfriend, and suggested he get one. He's like, "No thank you!" And I'm just like, meh. Fuck.

Do I still believe we're meant to be together? I sure hope not. There's just so much about him that I won't be able to deal with for the rest of my life. Part of it is probably because he's young and immature, but that leads me to another big problem. I just can't get over how much younger than me he is. I won't give numbers, but it's a bigger one than I ever wanted. I know age is but a number and it means nothing, but I don't like younger guys. A year or two is my max. I want someone older. Taller is a must, which he is, but he's not older. Five years older is like the max. One to three is preferable. In the end, it's the guy that matters, not his age.

But in this case, his age is just another thing added to a long list of things that are just not favorable. The top ones are his racism, homophobia, and prejudices. I'm not a race, sexuality, or religion he discriminates against, but that's not the point. I'm so hardcore for equal rights that just one of these things in a guy bothers me. But when he has all three, it's like... I can't tolerate it. I want to just beat all those thoughts from his head, but at the same time, I don't want to change him. I want to better him as a human, but I don't want to change him as a boyfriend.

There are so many reasons why I fell out of love with him, but I think those are among the top. He blames the fact that he's from Texas. But I tell him he needs to grow up and accept responsibility.

Maybe being raised in the north has helped me be more open to things. Maybe it's one of the few things my parents did right in raising me. Maybe I am this way because it's my nature. Who knows. But I'm so hardcore for individual equality that it gets in the way of things. But hey, you gotta be passionate for something, otherwise what is your life?

Bear with me here as I try to sort through my emotions and thoughts. I don't exactly have anyone to talk to about this, so this blog is my therapist, best friend, person who will let me rant and let me work through this shit so I don't implode.

Why do I want him to break up with me? I love him so much. He's all I want. So why am I hoping he gets sick of me and breaks up?

This is the longest realtionship I've been in. I'm not even sure how long. I think he decided upon August 8, but I'm not sure why. That makes this over a month. But these feelings, they've been present since, like, the beginning of the summer. I had feelings for Ethan for longer than this, but it was never this intense.

So I think I'm just scared. He keeps telling me we'll be together forever and that we're meant to each other and I'm the one. I think I believe that. Maybe he really is the one. By sometimes, I don't want to be the one, I don't want to be for him. Looking at my family, the trash I come from... He's from so much better. Am I really the kind of person to say I'm embarrassed to have him meet my parents? To tell him the truth about how we're all fuck ups, that I'm not good enough to stand beside him and his successful family, that I'll probably end up a disappointment like my parents?

But then as I think this, it makes me really wonder if any of this is true. The claims against my family. My parents just don't know how to manage themselves. Does that make them fails? I don't know. Am I destined to fail because that's all I know? Is it all I know? I think so. I don't know the first thing in being successful. I can't even keep up with my own healthcare. I've not really had any models. I'll just do the same thing to my children. Should I really be a mother? I'm so irresponsible and careless.

This is why I find no point in living or being in a relationship. Yes, I love him. Yes, he is the greatest thing that has ever happened to me. But I'm not good for him. I could never say goodbye to him. I need him to leave me. Because it's what's best for him in the long run.

Right?

I think it has finally clicked. I truly believe that he and I will be together for, at least, a very long time. I won't say forever, because no one knows what the future holds, but I am actually confident that he will always love me.

Tonight, he said the most unbelievable thing. He said he made a goal to make me laugh and smile everyday. I was speechless. Again, he brought me to tears. Like, before him, I had never cried over a guy in such a good way. I have never felt this way before. And oh, my god. It is the—THE single most amazing feeling ever to experience.

I think the sign of true love is believing no one has felt this way before, believing no love is as strong as ours. I know this can't be true, but it feels like it is. I always believed this sort of true love only existed in fairy tales. But now, thanks to Damon, I know it does happen in real life.

Because it has. I look at myself knowing I am worth something, because I can feel how much I mean to him. And I don't think this is a feeling tied to just him. If, under some unforseen circumstances, we actually do break up, I don't think this feeling will go away. This feeling of self-worth.

But I don't fear a break-up anymore. I know he loves me. And I know I love him. But if fate says we are not meant to be together... Fuck fate, I say! Haha. I will always be with Damon. For better or for worse.

I'll probably drive him mad. But it's okay. He drives me mad, too. We can be crazy together.

To anyone reading this... I hope you fall in love. I hope you find that one person you're meant to be with. Whatever shape, color, orientation, or gender that human may be. Whoever you are, whatever you've done. You deserve it. No matter if you feel like you don't, or if you feel like it's not possible for someone to love you or for your life to ever feel that good... You will get there. You will find that person who makes you feel like even the grayest sky is the most beautiful sight ever. Don't ever give up. Because when you find true love... Wow. You'll know. And you won't regret it.

If you are already in love, if you have already found that person... You know what I'm talking about. That person might drive you crazy and might make you want to pull your hair out or scream... But that person is also the best thing that has ever happened to you.

But that's not to say a significant other is the most important thing ever. You are. Your life is. You need to love yourself before you can ever love anyome else. But maybe you just need some help realizing the best parts of you. Having someone else or finding that one person isn't everything there is to life, though. It'll happen naturally when it's supposed to.

I've found the difficultly in love. Falling in love with him was easy, effortless, natural. But staying in love with him, learning to move past the things I don't like, and continuously reminding myself why I love him gets hard sometimes. Sometimes, he reminds me without even trying. The cute little things he says, his humor, the way he loves me. God, how have I gotten so lucky? He's fucking everything. And for once, it's not scary to love him. I know it's not going to destroy me, like with Ethan or Lazar. This is real love. And wow, it's amazing.

Like, gushing to my friends about him makes it real, and it's just an amazing feeling. To be able to do that. To know that I'm one half of something huge and amazing.

Mother fucker, everyone should be in love! The world would be an amazing place if everyone felt as happy as I do!

What is my brain doing!

Mother fucker. A couple nights ago, I had a really sweet and romantic dream about a dark-haired guy. He and another guy were sitting at a table in a kitchen or something, in front of a fridge. I think there was a short, old woman at the fridge. And I kept walking by them, so eventually, I dragged the dark-haired guy with me. He was in a rolly chair. But I think we were flirting, and we didn't want to do it in front of the old lady any more, and I'm like, can I just drag him with me like this? What will the woman think? But I did. And I pulled him on top of me on a couch. And we were kissing. Or something. Like, hardcore, but sweet. Then we were in a bedroom. Naked. But we didn't have sex or anything. We were cuddling, and he was feeding me something. It was very sexual. But there was no sex. It was weird.

But, the problem is he had dark hair. Not the blond hair he should have had!! And I talked to Damon yesterday about how it bothered me that it wasn't him in the dream. He told me not to worry about it, but I did. It should have been him. Why is there a dark-haired guy in my subconscious? What the fuck, brain?

I was thinking maybe my brain just needs some time to keep up. I had this problem before, when I had a dream about Ethan after I decided I was over it. Rin had said that my brain needed time to catch up. So I was convinced that that was the problem. Or, because Damon and I just don't feel real. It still feels surreal, like it's impossible for someone to actually love me the way I've always wanted to be loved. Then, before I went to bed, I wondered if it's because my brain is trying to protect myself. I dreamed of that dark-haired guy because it's easier to use a make-believe guy than to actually admit that what Damon and I have is real.

And then last night I had a dream about his cousin Collin. His fucking cousin. I made plenty of references to Damon in the dream. Like, something about either he wouldn't know or he'd be okay with it or just plain fuck him. Because I really wanted to sleep with Collin. His cousin's a virgin, and like, I told him that I knew. He wouldn't sleep with me. He wanted to, but I think he was afraid because he was a virgin. And I'm like, we're the same in that aspect, you know. Like, I kept trying to seduce him.

Message received, brain. Message fucking received. I can't just say it was a random, faceless guy anymore. Collin wasn't the one in the first dream. I know that much. He was definitely in the second one, though. But fucking why? What the fuck is that goddamn brain of mine trying to tell me? It couldn't have used any other guy. It couldn't have been the same guy, or another faceless guy, or a guy I know from anywhere else in my life. It had to be his fucking cousin.

I really just don't know what to think about this. Or what to do. My subconscious is trying to tell me something. I"m convinced of that. I don't even think of his cousin that way. I never have. And I didn't think of him at all yesterday. Mother fucker.

Every day, I fall a little more in love with him. It's so scary. I love him so much, it makes me cry.

But I would never trade this feeling for anything in the world. Love truly is the ultimate experience, and I know this only because of him. I will never be able to show him how grateful I am that he is in my life.

But I will certainly give it my all trying. Honestly, nothing has ever felt like this. Part of me is ready to say forever. But another part is saying don't curse it, it'll hurt more. The other part is saying shut up and just love him.

And I think that is what I'll do.

Out of seven billion people on this planet, how did I find him? How have I gotten so lucky to have crossed paths with him? I don't understand. When people meet their true loves, it's pure magic. Because there's nothing about the way I feel that isn't magical. And just the fact that I've found him, and he feels the same way, is like... Wow. I thought this kind of love only existed in books and movies.

Nope. It's real. It exists in our hearts.

And for once, I don't have the desire to try and bring myself down or dig into depression. I'm not trying to find something wrong with this or ruin the euphoria. I'm still cynical and pessimistic. But I feel great. Maybe I still feel depressed. But love is a more powerful feeling.

It's just amazing.

It's the strangest feeling to love reality so much that I don't want to live in a dream. For the first time ever, I want to actually do something to make something work. I actually feel the ambition to make an effort.

I'm just afraid that I'm putting too much on one thing. Something so fragile that could end at any moment. What happens if that happens?

My happiness should not depend on the love from someone else.

But it's his love that is giving me this spark of hope. And you have no idea how absolutely amazing, how purely perfect this feels.

I may have loved in the past, but I have never been in love. Not like this.

And it's never been reciprocated in this way. I almost feel like this is real.

I want this to be forever. Because he is everything I want, and everything I need, and everything I never knew I wanted or needed. He's everything.

It seems too good to be true. Something has to be wrong. It was almost easy. It really is easy to love him. It's scary as I realize how much he means to me. But the feelings come naturally. I thought love was harder than this?

The only hard part is trusting that I could mean anything to him. I'm afraid that when he gets to really know me, I'm going to disappoint him.

Is this what makes love hard, or am I complicating something that should be so much easier?

He said we'll figure this out together. That, in itself, is another terrifying concept. Working out a relationship with another human being.

But tonight, I will actually fall sleep, not wishing to be someone else or to be in another life. I don't know if I know how to handle this. It feels weird.

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?

It's funny how easily you can control your own dreams. Just one night of thinking about someone, and just one counselling appointment talking about that same person, leads to that individual appearing in your dreams. In the exact way that I wanted.

I don’t know why I went to bed thinking about him last night. He just kind of popped into my head. I imagined that he would send me a text message, or Facebook message, saying that he was sorry, and I would respond with an apology as well. I imagined us two running into each other by chance and talking about what happened.

Then this morning, I was talking about him to the lady I meet with Tuesday mornings to help me get back on track with school (because this semester has been rough). She always asks if I’m feeling okay, and today I explained how I wasn’t done with life in general, but I’m done with life as me. She asked why, and among other things, I explained my failure at a social life. This includes things in Herkimer, specifically that guy I was thinking about last night before I fell asleep.

And that lead to a dream about him. It was wonderful but weird. I was somehow at his house, and he was there, but it was a really strange house. And somehow, his mother was there, and I guess she had a rule that he couldn’t have company twice in a row? Like, two days in a row. And she asked if we had plans to meet somewhere else tomorrow, and I told her that I knew about this rule and I respected it, but that I didn’t know what was going on with him and I, so I didn’t know where we would meet tomorrow. Or something like that. But then he and I were together, and somehow we reconciled. I’m not sure how it came up, but we were walking out of his house, ready to have sex. Because we both so desperately wanted to. We were walking to my house, and I just kissed him. We hurriedly made out because we both wanted to get to wherever it was that we were going to have sex, but he said that he had wanted to kiss me forever. I kept kissing him, but we kept rushing to that specific (but unknown) spot to have sex. I asked if he had condoms, and he said yes.

But it was just before we got to the place, just before I pulled him closer to me and said that this place (in my back yard, in the grass) was good enough, that I woke up.

I don’t really think I miss him, I just think that I miss what we had. I haven’t had that with another guy since. He was the first, really. I think I really did love him. I think we could have worked (even if for just a little while, because we are too different) if I was at a better place in my life. But really, neither of us knew what we really wanted in life, and we both ruined any chance we could have had. But I’ve never gotten that close to anyone before. I really trusted him. I cared about him, and there were times he showed he cared about me. And I don’t specifically miss him, the small-town boy that he was. He doesn’t necessarily belong in the country (because Herkimer/Mohawk wasn’t a rural town), but definitely in some small town. I love the city. So I don’t really miss him. I just miss what we had, and I keep attaching that to him. I loved the feeling of loving him. Maybe that’s what I loved; I loved the thought of being in love.

But whatever it is, I miss it. I want that back. I want something like that back in my life. I don’t want it with Hector, though. I don’t have the same feeling for him that I had with Ethan. I’ve had conversations with Hector like I’ve had with Ethan, and it just isn’t the same. I feel more afraid of him than attracted to him. But with Ethan, I felt more attracted to him. More connected with him. I trusted Ethan. I don’t trust Hector. When things got bad, I wanted to run to Ethan. In fact, I did. When Kayla was depressing me with facts about how Victor used me, I ran to Ethan. And he was there. And he knew I was in a bad place in my head, so he didn’t let me go home until he was sure I was okay. But with Hector, I don’t feel like that.

Maybe that’s what sparked these thoughts of Ethan. I wasn’t feeling comfortable with Hector, so naturally, I tried running to the only guy I’ve ever really felt comfortable around. I almost felt that with Vic, but after that night on my couch, my opinion of him changed. Ethan never did that. Sure, Ethan had his hands on me, but that was welcome. In fact, I asked for it again, though it never happened.

I would have given Ethan anything he wanted. Did he know that? I don’t know. Maybe that’s why he pushed me out of his life so abruptly. Maybe he was just as afraid as I was. I don’t know. I’d like to think that’s the case, but I will never know. He won’t talk to me; I don’t even want to talk to him.

I just want someone like him back in my life. And I’ve not found anyone close. Sure, there are guys I’ve found aesthetically pleasing, but no one that I’ve had the same connection with. Especially not Hector.