Stiff-upper something

It seems as though my day began in tears and ended in tears.

He starts school tomorrow. I'm so proud. I'd always known he was better than for what he'd given himself credit. He's going to do good things and not stay in the same job forever. Maybe he'll find real happiness in this work. Not that he's not happy, now - I've just always known he was capable of so much more...or "world domination," as he put it.

I love him so much.

But, I have to let it go. I have to pretend...make believe it's all okay. Because it won't be any other way.

Heather and fam left for the Nickelodeon hotel thing in Orlando today, so me and Jack are on house-watch duty.

Then, my Anna.B informed me that some po-dunk assy ass doctor is trying to make her have colon surgery. I promptly gave her the name of Mom's doc, Dr. Brian T. Guffin. This man is a God amongst colons. I swear, when Mom was going through all that bullshit with her leukemia, this man was one of the most wonderful docs we ever encountered. God love her beautiful soul, she had to have a radical hemorrhoidectomy, and it was one of those things that no one would should have ever have to endure - I mean, EVER.

*ACK* I can't think about it, because it makes me cry to think about what all happened during that time.

*Not now* *Not now* *Not right now* *Put it in the box* *Not right now*

Anyway, this man was the tiniest gleam of wonderful that we encountered during that deplorable time in her illness. He's with Colon & Rectal Surgical Associates of Birmingham, PC. And, all puns aside, no shit, when you're dealing with something this humbling, embarrassing and debilitating, you can't just dick around with anyone. This is some serious shit. I don't know if anyone else has ever had heinie problems, but it's not cool.

Anyway, my Anna.B, I love you, girl, and everything is going to be okay. You know I've got your back(end), and I'll do whatever I can to help you out!

So, I realized, as I was going through some old music, that I'd never posted lyrics to one of my favorite songs.

(uh, oh - lyric time! THAT'S RIGHT! SO SIT DOWN AND SHUT UP!)

I heard Zero 7's Destiny for the first time in over a year, and cried and cried. The lyrics aren't true for me...but I wish they were:

Zero 7

I lie awake
I've gone to ground
I'm watching porn
In my hotel dressing gown
Now I dream of you
But I still believe
There's only enough for one in this
Lonely hotel suite

The journey's long
And it feels so bad
I'm thinking back to the last day we had.
Old moon fades into the new
Soon I know I'll be back with you
I'm nearly with you
I'm nearly with you

When I'm weak I draw strength from you
And when you're lost I know how to change your mood
And when I'm down you breathe life over me
Even though we're miles apart we are each other's destiny

On a clear day
I'll fly home to you
I'm bending time getting back to you
Old moon fades into the new
Soon I know I'll be back with you
I'm nearly with you
I'm nearly with you

When I'm weak I draw strength from you
And when you're lost I know how to change your mood
And when I'm down you breathe life over me
Even though we're miles apart we are each other's destiny

When I'm weak I draw strength from you
And when you're lost I know how to change your mood
And when I'm down you breathe life over me
Even though we're miles apart we are each other's destiny

I'll fly, I'll fly home
I'll fly home and I'll fly home

Then, I went back and reread (Cary Brothers, Ride - 5.22.07), which I should never, ever do...
It was during a time in my life, when I actually still had a choice to make things, as opposed to breaking them.

The night concludes with my grief, regret and sorrow falling from my eyes, mouthing the words to those two songs.

As Stina would say (Winter Killing), you're safer with me here, and you there.

I love you, babe. Good luck.

My Day in Less than 400 Emotions

Fell apart today.

Only one person saw, though, so the casualties were kept to a minimum.

Too much stuff on my mind. Not any more than any one person.

And, it all came to a head with one, solitary text:

"Hi :)"

I've been feeling grumpy/grouchy/pms-y/slack-jawed/glazed-over all day long. Yes, I'm on my period, so that's somewhat understandable. What isn't, though, was the fact that I lost it.

It started with having to work with, in my opinion, the world's worst surgeon. We'll call him Dr C. One day, when you're older, and I don't work here anymore, I'll be able to tell you why I don't like him. But, because of what he said, that causes me to wish him to burst into flames, it would completely give away his particular speciality. So, I'd best not.

Anyway, working with C was my first case. Hate him.

(Actually, I'm pretty sure my whole problem with today was waking up, but that's something else, I'm sure.)

Second, I had to go work in pain clinic, which actually WASN'T so bad today, until Dr Pain started jumping my case about me making a mistake. I'm on my period, I'm wearing, like, 1000lbs of lead, sweating my ass off, I already FEEL like shit, and him screaming at me only gives me the urge to rip off his head and piss down the hole in his neck. Thankfully, my coworker came to relieve me not too long after that, because my mouth was filling with malignity and obscenities, and I was having to swallow it back like vomit.

I get back to the department, and I get another call for downstairs (the OR). Back down I go to ANOTHER Dr C case. The other thing I hate about this guy is that I've been working with him for over four years, and I'm pretty sure this douche STILL has yet to learn my name. He's another advocate for the meat-teamers. The opposite sex should be on their knees from the days they're born. And, if you don't get what I'm saying, he's a real-live male chauvinist. And, I hate those. And, I hate that those exist, because I have to be really, really, REALLY quiet and passive around them, or I'll end up proving their points. I'd love for nothing more than to take a chauvinistic, misogynistic pig like that, and...

...well, I'll leave that unsaid. You can do your worst with your imagination, and you STILL won't understand the repulsion and execration I have for people like this.

Sorry, and although it's a bit unrelated to the day, it was going to come out eventually. I've never had the slightest bit of misandry - yes, guys get on my nerves from time to time, but I've never tried to pigeonhole the entire sex as buffoons or jackasses. I know there are, like, at LEAST half a dozen out there, who are untainted.

(My attempt at humor in the middle of a horrible day. Laugh or don't. No one cares.)

Okay, so I get relief from that case (and when I say relief, I use the sincerest of meanings), and as I step into the darkroom, to disrobe and remove my smelly, sweat-drenched lead apron, I get the text:

"Hi :)"

I briefly hinted at a smile...then, suddenly, as if the sky itself had opened up, tears started pouring from my eyes, and I started sobbing. Like, bodily sobbing. There's a tiny piece of space behind the processor, so I hid there about two minutes and composed myself. I got to the elevator, pressed the button, and it started again, but I reeled it in, like an old pro. I made it all the way back to the department, into the room where my boss was taking an x-ray and said, "Can I use your office for a minute?" He looked (down) at me curiously and said, "Yeah...is everything okay?" "Yep," and I walked off.

I walked by the table, grabbed a whole, new box of tissues and made a beeline for the office. I had barely shut the door, before it all started again. I sobbed so hard, I couldn't breathe. I had to pull the trashcan over and heave into it, because my nose kept getting stopped up. And, the first thing that came to my mind, as I doubled over in anguish, was, "Why can't you love me?"

Now, if I don't get over THIS shit soon, I'm going to be right back in the hole...and I'm not going in there. Fuck that shit.

Then, after him, it became everything else:
  • why can't I make ends meet?
  • how can I pay my rent this week, if I don't even have enough in my account to cover it?
  • why am I still alone?
  • will I ALWAYS be alone?
  • will I ever get to have kids, a family?
  • my car is falling apart - how am I supposed to pay for repairs?
  • how can I possibly cut costs any more than I already am?
  • I don't feel good, I need to go to the doctor, and I can't possibly afford another doctor bill!
  • what am I supposed to do about that stupid $1600 apartment shit on my credit?
  • what if they won't let me get another apartment?
  • why can't I take care of my grandmother like I should?
  • where's my mom? - I NEED her!
  • how can i possibly EVER pay off all my doctor bills?
  • why does Jack eat doo-doo?
  • why do I hate my job so much?
  • why is there so much pain and suffering in the world, and I'm sitting here crying about NOTHING?
I had picked the boss' office, because it's the farthest room from anything else in the department, so I knew no one would hear me.

I was wrong. A coworker came in and attempted to soothe me, God love her sweet soul. She brought me a couple of cold cloths, some Sprite, several Advil, and tried her best to talk me down. But, it just had to come out. It had to. It was absolute rumination. There was no way I was choking it back.

The thing that pisses me off more than anything in the free world is this: I DON'T HAVE IT ANY WORSE OFF THAN ANY ONE ELSE IN THE WORLD RIGHT NOW. If anything, my life is
filled with blessings. I'm NOT suffering! Things are great, except for the fact that I'm having a really hard time with money, and I'm SUPER-lonely. But, all that is just the way it is. IT'S NOT GOING TO CHANGE, no matter how much I squall and bellyache about it. In the end, it will all be okay. Everything will work out. IT ALWAYS DOES.

But, today, it had to be complete ruination. Were I not on probation, I definitely wouldn't have picked today to come to work.

My apocalyptic disintegration lasted exactly 45 mins.

I fucking hate days like these. And, it's so not over.

As a sidenote:
This -
Hi :) - is what I cling to on a daily basis. It can sustain me longer than water in the desert. Sometimes it's all I get...for days or weeks. But, it brings a smile to my pale, haggard face, and lightens my laden heart, even if it's only for a minute.

Right now, I live for that minute to happen.

I really need to find more to this life...because there is no guarantee - for anything or anyone.


every time i talk to you

Radio Dept - I Don't Like it Like This

Words fail me all the time
I don't even feel like talking
Still i go on and on
I'm dying here and you keep walking

Why are you asking me this?
Can't you see i'm trying?
Oh, i don't like it like this
No, i think i'm dying

I can't calm down at all
Panic is what panic feels like
Can't we just stay silent?
Speaking now seems far too violent

Why are you asking me this?
Can't you see i'm trying?
Oh, i don't like it like this
No, i think i'm dying

This song is a perfect expression of how I feel 99.9% of the time, especially when I hear from you...


Yes, you. Whomever you think you are, you are.


Fuck this

I'm no one's back-up.

That's what I feel like right now.

I know I shouldn't feel so angry and bitter, but I do. I feel like I'm the one that people "wouldn't mind trying out" if their current relationships were to fail.

There are a couple of people who actually care for me - or at least they think they do (not to cheapen their emotions).

But, then, you know there are always the ones that YOU have your emotions set on...and those are always the ones who hurt you. I guess because you let them, because you're opening yourself up to them in the hopes that they'll do the same, all the while, you're hurting the people who are standing in YOUR emotional wake, waiting for YOU to come around.

Emotions suck. Love sucks. Relationships are far too complicated. We really should have just "THE ONE" to whom we belong, "THE ONE" on whom we can fully rely.

I know promises can be fleeting, love isn't always guaranteed, but I like to think that I take it all pretty seriously.

I've never been a side A. I'm always the side B. But, I'd never choose to be any other way.


My accidental writing talent

To whomever keeps commenting on my writing ability:

Look, I really, REALLY appreciate the comments - more than you can imagine. It's not like I have any other talents aside from this (well, none worth mentioning here).

But, the only thing about which I've ever been able to effectively write is myself. Well, I did make the highest grades on both my junior and senior year-end english papers in high school (that was my five minutes of fame. Considering there were two papers, that would count as ten minutes, but I digress...). The fact I was able to acheive that honor my senior year was completely shocking to me, since I ended up having to fake an interest in Willa Cather. God, I hated her works. To this day, I start having WWII-like flashbacks every time I see My Antonia or O Pioneers on a high school reading list. Those poor, poor kids...

Basically, what I'm saying is thank you, but I wouldn't know anything about writing, what to write, how to go about starting to write, enrolling in a class (I think those cost money), etc. Plus, I would hate to hear anyone talk shit about my work - I'm pretty sensitive about what I write. These are my experiences, my opinions. If I was looking for the opinions of others, I'd probably use a whole lot more...what are those? Oh yeah, there it is - question marks.

I don't have a vast enough imagination to think up a "story" on my own. I can edit, though, like a mad professor. Although, I wouldn't mind beefing up my knowledge on APA style and the like.
Complete nerd-alert: I'd actually like to start over in a grade school class, and start from beginning - that totally stokes me to think about that. I enjoy proper grammar, but I always end up writing in the exact same way that I speak (and, yes, I use profanity). To hear me read it, though, is somewhat excruciating, since my mouth always moves faster than my brain. Hey, wait - that happens to me in every day life, too! That sucks!

Well, now that I think about it, to hear me speak is pretty tormenting, too, since I sound like a fucking redneck from Alabama, which I......*sigh* Nevermind.

Plus, and I kid you not, I can read the dictionary and the thesaurus like regular books. I wish I had a holster in which I could carry those two books at all times. Everything else to me is useless. I like looking up words JUST FOR THE FUN OF IT. I'm also infamous for correcting peoples' grammar, which gets pretty annoying...well, for other people. For me, it's like a fun game in which the victim suffers.

Anyway, I really appreciate the comments. Really, I do. It makes me WANT to write more. I like knowing that people read. It means even more when people actually comment. If I write about you, hey, guess what? You're on a blag! I won't say I don't dog anyone out on here, because me, you, God and the rest of the internet know that's not true. I write what I feel at the moment. Yes, feelings change. And, to those of you I've dogged (even repeatedly), my apologies. But, if you're a part of my life, you affect me. And, if you make it into my blog, congratulations - you're probably pretty important to me...or were, at one point.

I'd love to take creative writing. I'd love to expand my horizons on writing. I just feel as though it would be futile. They'd want me to write what THEY would want me to write, and I just won't do it. I'm not creative enough to make up stories - I can only use my own experiences. I...wouldn't even know where to start. I'm slightly daunted by the thought of someone criticizing my writing. It's along the same lines of being a vegetarian. I don't force the idea down YOUR throat - don't give me shit about what I think.

Plus, unless you're involved with me in some way, I'm pretty sure you have no interest in reading about Me.com or Me-ville or Jimmy-zilla or Jimmy Sumore. Even then, haha, you can only take so much! I'm the same way - I don't ever reread what I've written, unless it's for editing purposes. I can't stand it. It feels wrong.

So, yeah, if anyone has any ideas or money to help cultivate my so-willed "talents," please let me know. Because the only thing I can afford to do right now is work and do my damndest to keep up on bills. I have so many other plans for my life, but I can't seem to get a leg up, even onto a tiny curb, just to get a break. Plus, I'm pretty obstinate when it comes to asking for help - I've fought my way through these past ten years without Mom, and I refuse to falter now.

Although, winning the lottery, so that I could have a little time to myself wouldn't hurt a bit. &=)

Anyway, thanks again for your compliments - all of them. I wish more people would comment. And, as always "CONSTRUCTIVE" criticism is appreciated. "Destructive" is not and will be treated as such. If you don't like what I write, don't read it. It's really pretty easy.

Thank you, thank you, thank you a million times over. The fact that you care enough to read is praise enough. Some days, I do feel as though I'm repressing talents I might actually have...but I can't afford anything else. I've wasted the most important times of my life - on nothingness. And, most of it is time I regret - time I can't get back. I've made some wonderful memories and met some wonderful people, and those are the things on which I thrive now.

Maybe someday, I'll write the great stream-of-consciousness novel, and I'll dedicate it to you. Because it's your fans who help keep you going.

Thank you.


Bound to Alabama

It's hot.

In the dark, I lay stretched out on my back, arms above my head, trying to expose as much of my body to air as possible. A thin, green afghan lies across one knee. I can't stand it, so I push it away. An afghan I love suddenly becomes a heated piece of sandpaper, chafing my skin in the middle of the night.

It feels like one of those typical, cliched scenes you see about a hot, southern night. Well, this one is about Alabama. And, this chick lives in an attic.

I drift in and out of sleep, litening to the roar of my three window units, two boxfans, and small, almost useless ceiling fan. The unit downstairs turns itself on and off, since I have it set to 78. It's so loud, it rattles the house and wakes me up.

I've just come back in from taking Jackson outside - it's no better outdoors - muggy, thick, oppressive. But, at least this means Jack won't have an accident in the middle of the night. I don't care if it is two in the morning. It means I won't have poop to clean up at 530a.

This is no good. I pull off my shirt, laying only in a pair of men's boxers, and turn over on my stomach, spreading my legs out, kicking off all the papers I'd been arranging on my bed. 'Why is it in the wintertime, I can never get these sheets to warm up, but in the summertime, they feel as though I've been keeping them in the oven?,' I think. I pull over my favorite pillow - you know, the one with the light green, blue and white pillowcase that's faded from the years? It was Mom's. For some reason, that cotton is cooler than the rest. No matter, though. Within minutes, I'm sticking to everything.

My throat is dry and something that feels like cat hair tickles my nose. It reminds me that I need to clean my AC filters tomorrow. Maybe, in some tiny way, that will help, although for the life of me, I can't see how.

I've tried turning onto my side, but I can't stand for my legs to touch while I'm like this, and a pillow in between only makes it hotter. I've laid at an oblique angle, but I just can't get comfortable. In between, I have dreams of Phil, which I'm trying to avoid. They seem to make my sleep worse. I remember going through the same thing with Aaron, the infection in my brain only growing worse with every passing minute.

I try to focus on something pleasant. We had the greatest porch swing at Meadow View, the house in which I grew up. I loved that thing. One night, after I had gotten home from work, I laid out there and watched the heat lightning go crazy, while my mom was inside on the phone. I remember praying over and over again that our streetlamp would go off. We lived at the end of a cul-de-sac, so it would have been pitch black, save for the moon and the occasional flash. All of a sudden, the lamp blinks out. I thought, 'Woah, did I do that? Thanks, God!'

Total darkness.

I heard my mom get up and come to the door. She opened it and looked out. "Are you okay?" "Yes, ma'am." "Okay, well, if it gets worse, come inside." I heard her say, as she shut the door, "no, the power's out, and she's outside laying on the swing." I just smiled. When you lose someone, you go through these phases of remembering all the fights you had, all the bad things that happened, and all the things you did wrong. Eventually, your conscience eases up on you, and you can start to see through the forest, to the individual trees - and you can pick out the good ones and focus on those.

Jesus, it's hot. I need to get out of here. I always wonder how people made it way back before there was central heating and air. Obviously, there wasn't as much greenhouse (yes, I believe in that), but it was still hot. In the here and now, my energy is completely sapped every time I'm subjected to extreme heat like this. It was impalpable upstairs, yesterday. For some reason, it wasn't so hot in the attic. But, today, I could barely move, much less get anything accomplished. Every time I took Jackson outside, sweat would run down my already moist skin, underneath my t-shirt. I'd have to dry off whenever we came back inside. In fact, yesterday was the first day I'd ever seen Jack pant. I brought him inside and gave him more water, knowing we'd just have to repeat the cycle later.

I've been drinking water all weekend long, too. I have this weird habit of doing things, where I won't let myself have anything to drink, until I complete a certain task (ie. finish doing the dishes or take a shower or fold laundry). I don't know why I do it, and it's become a real obsession. I do strange things. Meh, I'm used to that.

There's a bird that chirps outside my window every night. He's the loudest thing I've ever heard. And, with me being at the level of the treetops, he's basically screaming directly through my closed window. I have no idea who he's calling, if he's guarding a nest or maybe if he's just blind and doesn't realize that it's night time, and there's no sense for him to be going on about whatever he's going on about at this hour. It pretty much drives me insane until I fall asleep. That's another one of my quirks - I can't stand to hear birds singing at night. It just seems all wrong to me. They may as well wear tiny hats and ride unicycles for all that it's worth. Why do you see birds walking anyway? Just the other day, I almost hit a bird crossing the road - on his two legs. I thought, 'well, if you're not going to use those wings, maybe you should just give them to me," which was silly, I later realized. There's no way those tiny wings could hold me.

My brain is trying so hard to go to sleep, but I'm scared if I do, I'll start having those nightmares about Phil, again. Whenever I get hot, when I sleep, I have horrible nightmares. I don't want to think about him anymore. It hurts me to think that he doesn't love me anymore, so I'd rather not dwell on it. Chronos does me no good, though. He doesn't give me the option of traveling forwards or backwards in time, if nothing else, but to avoid pain.

Avoid thought - non-check.
Avoid feeling - non-check.
Avoid heat - non-check.
Avoid cat laying on my back - check.

Jackson is asleep, now. I have a boxfan pointed directly on him, but a good bit away from his cage, because I don't want him to get sick. Money's really, really bad right now, but he has to go see Dr Murphy at the end of the week, to get the rest of his shots.

I have so many necessary expenses that need to be covered - car fixed, get glasses, Jack's meds, new work shoes, medical bills, groceries - but I have nothing. And, I continue to have nothing. I've done a few really superfluous things over the past couple of months, so I'm really going to have to start running a tighter ship. No more rum.

All of my extremities are burning. My feet feel as though all my blood has pooled in them, causing them to swell and feel feverish.

It's almost three, and my mind still races. My thoughts go back to my Jacksonville days, walking around the campus with Aaron, breaking onto the field in the middle of the night to just lay on our backs and look at the stars.

Why must the memory recreate such painful, needless memories? I remember walking out of Great American Cafe in the Galleria, the first time I met Phil, and he held out his hand, palm up, indicating for me to hold it. To this day, it's one of the sweetest gestures I've ever witnessed. I was attached to him from then on. He always had the "tough guy" exterior, but behind it all, he was mine, and he was beautiful. He still is.

Okay, enough trips down memory lane. I'm tired. I want to sleep. I want to not melt. I want to get up at 530a and pray this week goes by quickly and smoothly, although it won't, because we have all new residents. All new teaching. All new med students. All new screw-ups and lost tempers from attendings.

But, it's not new. It's old. It's all very, very old. And, very, very tiring.

Speaking of tired, the bird has stopped. I'm taking my chance. I'm going to pray for sleep.

Pray for dreams of cool forests, the rainy season, the noises of the residents and me. Anything but the present.


Can I let go?

I just told this to Joseph, and it makes so much sense about me:

In my state of complete intact sanity, I function on emotion alone. I have almost no reasoning skills, except when I'm depressed, and in that case, I'd rather have my heart broken every, single day for the rest of my life. I don't ever want to go back there. Preferring to die over preferring to love is something no one should ever have to experience. I've never not been able to relate to someone who is suicidal, although all I want is to reach into their soul and show them that all is not lost.

Well, that was a bit of an aside.

No matter, letting go of someone that you love so dearly is like getting lost in a dark catacomb full of nothingness. There's no one there but you. You can be completely surrounded by an amazing support system of those who love you dearly, but they're virtually invisible due to your selfishness.

I adore Phil. But, I know that he'll never love me as he once did. We'll never be an innocent as we were when we met. Back then, I could never let go of Aaron enough to give him the attention he deserved, and I know he'll always hold that against me. It's a hard burden to bear, knowing that he was worth so much more than I allowed.

I can wish for second chances on every dandelion I blow, but I'm trying not to live in a pipe dream. He's met someone else, who took a part of his heart which I used to possess, and I'll never regain it.

I wish I would have loved you in the way you were worthy. I wish I would have done things differently. I wish I would have met you earlier...or later. I'm so sorry. I'm so very remorseful. I wish you understood. And, I wish you would give me a chance.

But, I know you neither read this, nor care how I feel. You have your own life and have moved on without me. And, I have to accept that. Please know that my love for you is boundless. It's going to take me another forever to get over you. Don't pity me, though - life goes on, as you said. The sun will still come up, and we'll all continue to live.

But, the pain won't ever go unnoticed.

I love you.

Goodbye, my love

As much as that black hole in my soul engulfs me to admit this, I understand now that you will never love me the way I long for you to. *cry* Although there are so many things I would do to make you happy, I don't think that you could ever fully appreciate it, as you would have when we were first together. I had my chance, and I greatly blew it...out of the water...into space.

On a serious note, you're always welcome "home" for as long as I'm around.

Thank you for giving me good memories. And, I'm sorry I broke your heart.

Good luck with school and with life.

Part of my heart will always be yours.

My main mode of transportation is by car - I SHOULD be using a bike.

The reason I use a car to travel is because I hate weather (and transporters haven't been invented, yet, and walking takes far too long). If it's hot, I need AC. If it's cold, I need heat. I'm the biggest weenie in the known universe when it comes to the weather. Yet, despite my horrid vegetarian sweat, I'm hoping to purchase a mountain bike from another vegan friend of mine to use this summer. This may be my last summer alive. Oh well. Go out with a bloody bang.


The Christian and the Atheist

Ahhh, there's no way to pull out my thoughts, to put them on a page and cause them to make sense right now.

My friend Scott Brining from Kentucky came to visit me on Sunday and left today. We had an excellent dinner at Jinsei in Birmingham's very own podunk Soho (we have no capability for originality in this town), then witnessed a spectacular storm at the top of Red Mountain. Scott left today at lunch, and it's been so nice having a friend around, albeit only for two days. It's been close to eight years that we've known each other...but we don't feel that old!

I'm so glad that he came to visit, and I'm thankful that he made it down here safely, but I can't help but be plagued by thoughts of Phil. I missed him so much on Sunday, and I wanted him to be there with us, with my family. I want him to BE my family.

This is weird. This is too weird.

The Christian and the Atheist.

Yes, say what you want, but it doesn't and will never change the way I feel about him. Just because he's an atheist, doesn't make him a bad person, and I will defend him until the day I die. He and I put each other through a lot of stupid things, but I can assure you that I was the monster in most of those scenes.

2 Corinthians 6:14 - Be ye not unequally yoked together with unbelievers: for what fellowship hath righteousness with unrighteousness? and what communion hath light with darkness?

Someone very, very, VERY close to me finally said what I'd needed to hear. It was like she'd read my mind. How can you only ever have fellowship with believers? How do you witness? How do you spread God's love if you only stick with your "own kind?" Just because he doesn't believe what I believe doesn't make him WRONG - it doesn't make him a BAD PERSON! It's a realization or an understanding that I've had to come to on my own. I tried to buy my way out the first time with, "I'm a Christian, and you're not," but after all I've been through, I've discerned that it doesn't matter what our belief systems, as long as we're all working towards the common goal. He's a good person...scratch that. He's a WONDERFUL person. He has a very full and kind heart, he has a beautiful soul. If you don't believe me, then you've never met him. And, if you STILL don't believe it, then you're a jerk and obviously not a very kind, open-minded person.

I don't know if he'll ever love me again. I don't know if he'll ever be able to fully face me again, due to all the horrible things I did and said about him and his family. I was so angry. I was so bitter that Aaron and I were falling apart. I needed someone to blame. I needed a scapegoat - and I USED him.

I don't deserve to be in his presence, much less to ask him for a chance of any kind.

Aaron and I had some wonderful memories - we were young and growing, and we managed to have a good life together. Times change; people change. My circumstances led me to change. And, I did. But, after Aaron was gone, Phil was there. And, he loved me, despite my horrid faults.

And, I threw it all to the ground. I'm in the process of writing him a letter (like the old-fashioned, hand-written kind), and in it, I told him that back then, I wanted more than anything to let go of everything and just love him. I wanted past memories to stop haunting me, and I wanted to give everything that I was to him. But, all I did was fight with myself, and in turn, fight with him.

All is NOT fair in love and war, Frank Farleigh. You lie. YOU LIE!!!!!

*sigh* So, every day is lit with thoughts and memories of him, hoping that one day, he'll scoop me in his arms, again, and tell me that everything really will be okay. When you're on all fours in someone's home, in the middle of a full-blown panic attack, telling them that you don't think you can go through with being friends, because you're still in deeper, desperate love than you had originally foreseen, it gets kinda hard to just pick yourself up, brush yourself off and walk away from that (dignity sold separately).

He told me to give him time, that there's always a chance for anything...but I can't help but doubt. Just because - well, if I were him, I wouldn't want to get hurt, again, either. And, I don't. But, I don't intend on using this for pain. I want to go straight through with this.

Yes, I said it - I'd rather spend the rest of my life with an atheist, whom I love with the whole of my heart, and who loves me back, than any and every other asshole I've ever been with in the past (some company excluded, those of you who were non-assholes).

Read this. It's very, very true.

I'm really tired of atheists getting the shaft. They believe what they believe. It doesn't make them BAD. And, believe you me, there are PLENTY of bad Christians out there, too. Otherwise, those psychopaths (ie. Westboro Baptist) wouldn't be giving us a bad name! Does anyone see the irony in all of this? THIS IS NOT NEW NEWS, PEOPLE.

Be open-minded, for once. Like, REALLY, REALLY open-minded - not the kind where you just SAY you are. You don't have to let people tell you what to believe - just take your, um, "enthusiasm" down a notch when you're talking to someone who doesn't share the same beliefs as you. Being a vegetarian, have I ever tried to force a salad down someone's throat? Of course not, and the reason for that is that it's MY CHOICE. Whether it's right or wrong, I have my own reasons for believing it. YES, I believe that God is an ever-present being in all of our lives...but that's what *I* believe, and that will never change. But, I don't THREATEN people with it.

Stop threatening people with YOUR beliefs! Just STOP! All you do is piss people off!

I'm SO SICK of hypocrites. I know I have my moments. Don't flatter yourself - you do, too. But, when are we EVER going to step up and take responsibility for flat-out being assholes to each other?

Never - that's when.

But, I don't mind. I don't mind being one of the ones to traverse into "enemy territory." I'm not scared. I believe that God will always have my back, no matter what. And, my attitude and befriending may be the only witnessing some people get. If you're an atheist, the only thing that you'll have to get over with me is that I pray for your heart. I'll ALWAYS pray for your well-being. I'm not dogging you out to my God - I'm telling Him to please keep a special eye out for you, because you're very, very important to me. Atheists think about others, too, and hope for the prosperity of their loved ones and betterment of the world - just not by going through a Christians' Higher Authority.

Please think about that. Please remember that underneath, we're all just people. If we were all the same, there would be no point to life. But, we should embrace each other and flourish. We should help those who cannot help themselves. We should strive to be the best we can be. It's all relative and subjective anyway. Not to get too philosophical at this point, but human beings are the ones who constantly change the nuts and bolts of "right" and "wrong."

Right now, all I know in my life is that I want to do "good" things, whatever that means. I don't want to cause anyone any harm, and I want to help people to become better and happier.

And, I want him with me. Not just anyone.


Incidentally, I think that "MY" God has a fantastic sense of humor:

And, He thinks THIS is hilarious.


Loquacious, ain't she?

I couldn't do it.

Last night, after the ex showed up, I couldn't hold my tongue. I sat there for an entire hour on my own, trying to talk myself out of it.

But, the second I saw him, again, it all came out like a geyser. And, I'm still having a hard time not repeating myself right this second.

He said, "Give me the time that I gave you with Aaron."


Okay. OKAY! But, I have plans, and they're trying to include you. And, I'm so trying to do this friend thing, and I SUCK AT IT. I do still love him. I am still in love with him. How could I not be? He's a wonderful person - he always has been. I've wasted all this time. I ALWAYS DO THAT! I'm trying SO HARD to stifle just taking him and running away - TOTALLY AGAINST HIS WILL. Do you know what that's called? It's called, "I'M LOSING MY EVER-LOVING MIND BECAUSE THAT IS KIDNAPPING/STALKING AND YOU COULD GO TO JAIL, WEIRDO." Thank God, I don't already have a white, windowless van - now, THAT would just be a catalyst for bad things to happen, eh?

But, help me out here. I TOLD him. I was on my knees, spilling everything - how sorry I was for everything, how he deserved better, how I still love him and that I was trying to secretly beat back my real emotions, but that all I wanted more than anything in the world was to get back together and do it right this time around....


Jesus, Jen. I don't know how you ALWAYS manage to fuck things up. I'm just AGHAST! &=O

Okay, NOT everyone should know everything. I'm having a HUGE problem discerning between those situations...and people. Like I said, I function on emotion, alone, and I'm not good at "reading people." I have to be told things straight out.

Ohhhhh, is this why I felt so yucky the other day? Knowing I was going to TAKE OUT THE CITY JUST LIKE JENNIFER-ZILLA ALWAYS DOES?!??!??

("Sweetie, Jennifer stopped by. I don't know if you can tell from all the wreckage...but she told me to tell you hello.")


But, stay with me - or at least join me for this part. He didn't ask me to leave (I gave him all outs), he wasn't or didn't seem repelled when I told him that I still wanted to be with him, and he still wants to talk, or I'm assuming he wouldn't have said "call me/text me." And, I ASKED HIM FLAT-OUT (God, I'm a brazen thing in my old age!) if there was any chance of us getting back together. He said that he wouldn't write anything off, but he wanted to get to know each other and get to be better friends right now.


I hate open-ended shit. I mean, because I don't know EITHER! But, I guess I just want something to hold onto. I want to know he'll be there. But, I can't ask that of him. I said I wouldn't ask anything of him, and I can't.

I can't.

I'm just a wreck this morning - I didn't sleep at all, having to fight for him in every dream sequence, doing whatever I could to make him see how much I love him. It was horrible - and it never ended well. I woke up, chest heaving, so many times, I don't know that I ever hit REM.

This isn't the whole story - I wish I could tell you the whole story. I wish you had been there for the extent of our relationship. Aside from the whole weird stuff that went into it, I think we had a really good relationship. We loved each other (I can only speak for me when I say I still do), we had fun, we could talk, we were friends - he was my best friend for a long time, and I'll never forget how he carried me through all that crap with Aaron. He carried me. And, I never really asked him to - he just did.

And, I'm still in love with him. Desperately. Enough to do those "crazy things" he once talked about. But, now they're unwelcome, I suppose...

Heather always said it was different for her to see me in a lovey-dovey position, but I HAVE that. I have it and no one has ever really seen it, because I always feel like I'm having to hold my own in some way or another. One of the sweetest things that I'll always remember was one day, when he was down by the hospital, he came and put a card on my windshield, so I would find it when I got off from work. It's that kind of stuff that I just adore. It's just those tiny things that tell each other that you're constantly on each others' minds.

And, I never did it enough.

I just want a chance to do it right. I know - I KNOW I already had that chance. But, I didn't get to go into it with a clear head.

I don't like using it as an "excuse," but I have been through some pretty fucked up stuff.

And, I finally feel like life is becoming liveable again. I just want to do it right.

I have to remember that God's in control, and I'm powerless to whatever HAPPENS. I can control some things (obviously not my mouth), but everything else is playing out exactly how it's supposed to. And, life will go on, no matter what happens.

I just have to pick up the knack for patience, something I've never been good with.

I still have this beautiful letter he wrote me. He's not much for typing, but every time I read it, it just breaks my heart (in a good way) over and over again. It's cool to remember what it feels like to be in love. It's incredible...and I hope it's worth something to him.

I remember everything - the warmth and smell of his skin, the ways his arms feel around me, the complete abandon that happens when I'm in his presence......it's like it was last night, about 3am.............