A Blanket

It was a simple gesture that pretty much turned the entire hellish weekend around.

In March of 2011, we went back to New Jersey so I could take care of some business. It was a nice visit with Mom, and Papa L, and my cousin. The business, however, did not get taken care of, thanks to the NJ MVC still showing my then 13.5 year old hooptie as having a lien, because the financing company didn't notify them in 2002 that it had been paid off.

Our plan was to leave in the early evening of that Sunday. We tool a quick day trip with Papa L to a town about half an hour away. It was a fun, if odd, adventure and we enjoyed ourselves. The plan was to come back to Mom's house, pick her up and take J to a real NJ pizza place for some East Coast pizza. About 10 minutes from home, the rental stopped accelerating. I pulled over to see what was wrong and the car stalled. It would not start again. We were in the left hand median of the interstate. Lovely.

J called the rental company's roadside assistance to report the death. At about this time, the cops pulled up so they could move us to the other side of the road by pushing the car with theirs. All I could think of was "bumper's going to get damaged, they're going to charge me, I can't afford this shit..." Queue the waterworks from me. I had no idea where they came from, but the skies were inspired. At that point, a huge rainstorm hit. So there we were, in a dead HHR, being pushed across an interstate by the state police (who were wonderfully kind and helpful, by the way).

So, back to the phone call. We were told that we'd have to wait with the dead HHR until the replacement was brought to us. From Newark Airport. 45 minutes away. Because it's Sunday. And they're the only open branch within a hundred miles. And yes, it's still raining.

Two hours, some seriously fogged up windows, and several full bladders later, we were back on our way. This new one was also an HHR. This would end up being a lucky break later in the story.

Eventually, we got back to Mom's (an hour AFTER we wanted to leave to go home). The rain had stopped and I simply HAD to have my pizza, so we went to dinner anyway. We spent a bit more time with Mom and Papa L, ate, and argued (which is traditional for Mom and me). We then packed up the car and headed out. It was 7pm. We had about a 6 hour ride ahead of us.

As we neared the PA border, it started to rain again. At the border, it became a wintry mix. Within 10 miles, Full Blown Blizzard. Fortunately, the HHR was an AWD. That, combined with my pro driving skills kept us from dying. It took us five hours to travel what would have normally taken about twoish hours. Interstate 80 in Eastern and Central PA runs right through the Appalachians. We're talking Donner Pass shit here. There are parts where the edge of the road drops straight down. The roads were not plowed at all, and the only other traffic we saw were 18 wheelers. Why? Well, because 80 was closed! We didn't know this until the next day, when we read about the storm of the century in the paper, because the nifty electronic signs didn't say anything about it.

The HHR kept on the road quite nicely, but the windshield wipers couldn't really keep up. I had to pull over while one of us jumped out to clean the 3" of snow from the windows. Of course, each time, the trucks would hurtle past us, racing down the hills. If they tried to use the brakes, they'd have ended up at the bottom of a ravine. Needless to say, it was a stressful five hours.

At one point, we threw up our hands and said "Eff this! We need to pull over!" Of course, we were in the middle of nowhere. There was one tiny town with two hotels and a truck stop. The problem turned out to be that everyone decided to give up at this very same town. Every room was booked. J and I got into an argument (our nerves were frayed to the point of breaking at that point) and decided to stop at the truck stop. I was cold because it was the middle of March, and it had been warm, so my coat was packed under a bunch of stuff in the trunk. We were discussing sleeping in the parking lot to wait the storm out, but neither of us were really into that idea. We were both angry, uncomfortable, moody, cranky, and overly exhausted. He got out to grab himself a snack (I didn't want anything).

While he was inside, I called out of work for the next day, then shut the phone off. I closed my eyes and stewed. I started blaming every single decision I'd made throughout the entire trip for this one horrible stroke of badness. I was sitting there, shivering in this stupid rental, wanting to cry, but just too damn tired to do anything about it. When the door opened, I didn't even open my eyes. When he sat down next to me, I still kept them closed. I heard ripping cardboard. Finally, I looked over at him. J was unwrapping a new dark green fleece blanket.

"You're freezing I got this for you so you'd be warm".

He wrapped me in the blanket, and I did tear up a bit at that point. This plain, green truck stop blanket was the most thoughtful gift I'd ever received. It wasn't fancy, it wasn't beautiful. It was warm, and just what I needed at that moment. I grabbed his hand and we hugged for a while. I apologized for being moody, and so did he. We kissed and made up and sat there for a while, watching the snow fall. It was illuminated by the orange lights overhead, but it was beautiful. We decided we'd risk it and see if we could find another town.

Two hours (and about 60 miles) later, the snow had basically stopped. The roads were clear and safe again. But at that point, it was going on 2:30am and we were both falling asleep. We were still about two hours from home, so we found a motel to stay at. The next morning, we woke up and made the rest of the trip home (after some breakfast).

To this day, that blanket is still one of my favorite things in the world. It reminds me that J will always be there to keep me safe, and to keep me warm, and to make me smile.

Deaths, Part One: Gram

Fourteen years ago, someone died. It was the first of five deaths that happened within four years. Each death damaged me more and more. By the time it was over, I'd gone through a bit of a breakdown. I'm still kind of paying for some of the choices I made while in my less than coherent state.

My great-grandmother passed away in March of 1998. She was an extraordinary woman; strong, full of sass, stubborn as anything, and very much like me. Family members pointed out that we were like the unstoppable force and the immovable object. We couldn't out-stubborn the other, so we didn't even try. 

She was, at most, 4'11". One did not make the mistake of messing with her. If they did, it was only once. She had a tiny head, like a grapefruit. Her dentures were far too big for her mouth, so she rarely wore them. She could still chew Italian bread like someone with a full set of teeth. Her fingers were slender, but her knuckles were knotted like ancient twigs. Her skin was papery, dry, and thin. She called pizza "tomato pie", tomato sauce was "gravy", and she always offered us "soder" (soda, for those of you who don't know).

Her eyes were the feature that stood out the most to me. They were deep, and narrow set. Like mine, they changed from bright blue to the steely grey of an overcast sky. But they always glittered with so many things. Life, strength, vitality, wisdom, intelligence, joy. She wasn't always one for great shows of emotion, but her eyes were open windows to what she was thinking. She was never doddering, her faculties were always there. In her eyes. 

Gram worked until she was in her mid-70's, when her company basically laid her off so she would retire. She was only sick on the weekends, and I'm not even sure if she took vacations. Once she retired, her health declined to the point that she was in and out of the hospital, and couldn't walk up the hill anymore. She moved from the three family building she owned to the small summer house she had next door to us. 

I used to sit with her while she watched her "stories" on television. She coughed a lot, and would use a green bean can as a spittoon. She cooked Italian food all the time, and would talk about the big street festivals and feasts for Catholic saints that used to go on. She talked about shopping at the Newark Slip (or Nork Slip, as it was pronounced by those who lived there). We would discuss our shared love for Paramount bread. When she lived in her building, it was a short journey to pick some up. She always brought it to us when she would visit. 

She told me stories about Lake Hopatcong in the heyday, when this was the only house on the entire street. She told me about going out on the town in her custom made gowns, how she loved to dress up. There were stories of her friends, her sisters, her parents. The good times she had growing up. How I wish I'd written some of them down. 

There were also bad times that she would remember. She told me of the pain of losing her only brother at a young age due to illness. Even then, almost fifty years later, her eyes shone with tears when she spoke of him. Such a good boy, he was. So full of life and promise. She touched on my great-grandfather, whom I'd never met. She talked about his temper, and that he became violent on occasion. She didn't say much, but her eyes would harden to determination (and a bit of old fear?) when she mentioned those times. This woman who was made of steel, never sick, always taking care of business... she was vulnerable after all. I never pushed her, nor did I get too sappy (she wasn't like that). But one time, I reached over and held her hand for a moment. She looked at me, I looked at her. Her eyes looked grateful for the understanding in mine. For a moment, I thought she would say more, but she never did.

Not long after that, she had another attack where she couldn't breathe. She was brought to the hospital again. This time was different. The doctor decided this time to perform a tracheotomy. I sometimes wonder if  that decision is the reason we didn't have her around longer. She contracted an infection, and I wasn't allowed to visit her for a while because of my asthma. I only saw her once that time around. She had been there a while by that time. 

Her eyes. That's the first thing I noticed. The first thing I saw, happiness. Then pleading. As I looked down, I noticed why. Covering her mouth was a layer of dried foam. In her neck, a tube shoved through the hole her doctor made. On her tiny arms, black bruises from where IV lines had been, and her wrists bound to the sides of the bed. For a split second, I'm sure my eyes registered the horror and grief I was feeling. But I moved to the bathroom to get a towel. I moistened it and wiped her mouth clean. I brushed her hair back from her forehead. I asked her what I could get her. She pointed to an extra pillow on the chair, and motioned for it to be placed under her arm that currently held an IV. She then started mouthing "water" over and over again. She couldn't talk. That goddamned tube in her throat.

I went to the nurse's station and asked them why my Gram had been left for so long that a layer of foam had been able to completely crust over her mouth. They said it was normal with a trache. I told them that she is thirsty. They said she can't have any water, because she would choke on it. There was a sponge with a cup of water that I could use to dampen her lips, but she couldn't drink anything. I then asked why she was tied down. Because she tried to pull that goddamned tube from her throat. 

I went back in. Her eyes pleading. I explained that I couldn't give her water to drink, but that I'd get her some water for the sponge. She mouthed "cold", so I got her some fresh cold water. I moistened her lips, and she opened her mouth so that some of the excess could moisten the inside of her mouth a bit. I kept apologizing to her over and over again because I wanted to give her a drink so badly. I apologized for not visiting more. Understanding in those eyes. I talked to her for a while, about the family, about the silly things I had been up to. I told her about a trip to an anime convention I was leaving for in a few days, and how excited I was for it. She smiled. Her eyes smiled. She was still there. Her eyes, still glinting with strength and determination, even with that goddamned tube in her throat. 

I stayed for over an hour with her, re-positioned the pillow whenever she needed me to, gave her more "water", and held her hand. When it was time to go, I stroked her hair again, told her I loved her very much, and gave her a kiss. She mouthed "I love you" and beckoned me down. With her parched lips, she kissed me on the cheek. I promised to come and visit her again once I came back from my trip. She smiled at me. I didn't realise what I saw in her eyes at that moment. Not until later.

When I came back from my trip, I was told that Gram had died early that morning. I collapsed to the floor, and I cried. It was not until hours later that I realised what her eyes said to me that last moment I was ever going to see them.

They said "good bye".

2012 So Far

I haven't written anything since the end of 2011. 2012 has been a hugely grand year so far.

On the evening of January 1, the man I love, the one who inspired the quest in the first place, became the man I will spend the rest of my life with. He asked me to be his wife. It was a very low key proposal, but it was certainly a perfect fit for all of the milestones in our life so far.

We had spent the weekend with his parents at their house on Lake Erie. It was a relaxing New Years, and we had fun. When we got home that evening, we changed into our comfy clothes and sat on the couch. He began talking about his family, and an awesome conversation he'd had with his Mom on Christmas. The topic shifted to his great grandmother. Not long before she passed away, she'd given his Mom something with the promise that it go to him when he was ready. It turned out to be her engagement ring. He pulled it from his pocket and asked me to be his wife.

I said yes. And cried. And danced around, saying "We're getting maaaarrieeeed!!!"

We hit the ground running as far as planning goes. First, we threw around some dates. We were wishing for this coming Autumn, but money wasn't going to cooperate. We then thought of March 2013, because we didn't want Spring or Summer, and we didn't want to wait until Autumn 2013. We then came up with the brilliant idea of a day after the apocalypse wedding on 22 December. We had found a possible venue by that point, and they had it available. Before we went to look at the place, his family pointed out that people may not be able to travel that close to Christmas (since almost everyone is traveling). We then checked with the venue about 29 December, which was also available. So now, we'll be having a week after the apocalypse wedding!

In addition to the venue, we've got a caterer, a photographer, and a "dj". We decided to do the music ourselves, and save the $800-$1k it would have cost for a dj. We are still up in the air as to the original sound system due to some family issues, but we'll figure it out. We've also got a place for rentals, I just have to sit down and figure out what we need.

I'm going dress shopping in about a month when my Mom comes to visit. I'm actually excited about this part. I'm not typically very girly, but I love trying on dresses. This is one of the more traditional things I'm doing for this wedding. I just want to find something I love, and feel good in.

Oh, and did I mention I also started school in mid-January?! This semester will be done in a few weeks. I'm doing pretty well so far. Hoping for at least a 3.5 gpa for the first semester. More on that later, though.

Looking Forward to 2011

So, where am I going? What am I resolving to do in 2012? What do I want most in this coming year?

I'm going to school in a couple of weeks! After 15 years of talking about it, I'm going to finally do it. I want to continue my search for a new job (part time). I'll be volunteering more at the Humane Society. And, hopefully, I'll be able to keep up on everything else.

My resolutions are as follows:

• I want to lose more weight, walk more, and use the gym at school to get in better shape. I have no real specific weight loss goal. Maybe another 20 lbs? But I want to be in better shape, get toned up more, and look/feel better.
• I want to get at least a 3.5 GPA and hopefully make honors at school. I want to apply myself like I didn't do in high school, and actually be proud of my academic accomplishments.
• I want to get out of the habit of being negative about myself all the time. I want to be more positive and treat myself as well as I treat other people. I want to treat other people as well as I want them to treat me.
• I want to get out and appreciate life more. I want to appreciate all the things I have, and all the things that are ahead of me. 
• I want to (along with J) compile a cook book of all of our recipes, so they are in one place. I want my family recipes, his family recipes, and the recipes we've made documented so we can share them with future generations.
• I want to write more, and document more of the joys of this life I have now. My quest is never complete, and I want to remember the positives. Too many of my old blogs, journals, status updates, and such are negative, melancholy, and mopey. I want to remember the beauty of my life, not the vomited sadness that I wrote yesterday.
• And finally, I want to spend less time online and in front of screens. I want to spend more time doing things that are worthy, that I need to do, or that will get me moving a bit more.

And what do I want most in the coming year? There is something, but I'm not going to say what it is. =)

Reflecting, The End of 2011

I went back and read older entries, particularly the last of 2010. I was so full of hope and excitement for 2011. It made me feel pretty good. I also did some reflecting. It's totally cliche, and I'm certain that every blog out there has a post like this, but it's okay. 

2011 saw my first full year in Pittsburgh.Oddly, I've not been on nearly as many bridges as I thought I would. But there were several, and they were awesome. My first Winter was spent largely getting used to working again. I think I did pretty well at my job, but it wasn't particularly fun (phone customer service -- not exactly meant to be fun). J and I did more settling in to our relationship, and actually enjoying the normalcy of it. We did a lot of hibernating, but it was a decent winter!

In the Spring, we were able to get out, explore, and enjoy Springtime. Our first Kindred event since the founding was a huge success. We continued to make the apartment more of our home. It was a really lovely time. The job was getting a bit on the irritating side, but at least it was money.

Summer started well. We were able to do more together on the weekends. Spending time with him, being relaxed, enjoying his company, falling in love with him even more each day. As our first anniversary approached, we reflected on our time together up until then. The weekend of our anniversary was wonderful. He took me to a gorgeous hotel, set up two wonderful dinners for us, and we decided it was too late to run. We were stuck with each other, which is just fine with me.

After that, for some reason, the year went downhill a bit. Within a month, the engine on my car blew, which made it impossible for me to keep my job. That, and various other things caused stress in our life. Trying to remember what it was specifically, I can't right now. This leads me to believe that there likely wasn't much tangible. I missed my family, my car of 14 years was dead (leaving me with no car, and no one to ask for help for the first time in... ever), I was unemployed again, and the fact that, by that time I was getting antsy for the divorce to be over with all played a part in the stress. But, for some reason, I had remembered it as much worse than that.

By Autumn, there were two weddings coming up which were going to be challenging given the financial situation. We made it work by J going to one alone, and depleting my savings for the other. I wasn't having any luck finding a job, and we were worrying about a lot of little things. The second wedding, which was at the end of October, involved us driving back to where I grew up... in a snowstorm! In October! We made it there safely, the ceremony was lovely, and it went well.

After the wedding, we stayed with my Mom for a few days. In New Jersey. With no power. And a foot of snow on the cold, cold ground. We weren't able to do much of the sight seeing we wanted to do (other than diners and malls, to keep warm). And before we left, I had a horrible fight with my Mother. We made up before we left, but that was just something I didn't need. On our way home, it took us longer than it needed to (I missed a road and we had to go about 45 minutes or so out of our way). Power came back on about 45 minutes after we left, which I was happy about for my Mom. By the time we got home, we were just annoyed and badly in need of showers.

We continued to stress out about things through the end of Autumn, and into Winter. But we had a wonderful Christmas! I did manage to register for school (which I hadn't even been really thinking about much, until the car). I've been sculpting more in the past several months, too. It's been a lot of fun and I've made some cool things so far. The divorce went through in mid-December (YAY!). I'm not allowed to be friends with my ex anymore because his girlfriend is a bit insecure, but I am glad he's happy AND that he is taking her feelings into account first (Hey, he DID learn something after all!). I am truly happy for him and, perhaps, we can be friends again someday.

But the most important part is that, in spite of the all the stress and worrying and bad stuff, I am still completely in love with my J. I'm also just as sure as I was last year that he is the love and light of my life, and that I am happier than I've ever been with him. Throughout all of the Clark Griswold nonsense, the stress, and the annoyance, I've never once doubted my decision to come here, or even remotely questioned my absolute love for him. That feeling of utter serenity, of absolute certainty, and of pure happiness, is something I cherish each day.

Frustration, Part One

The last half of 2002 and first half of 2003 saw a huge amount of change (both good and bad) in my life. The timeline saw me engaged, losing my grandmother (to whom I was extremely close), watching my mother go through a breakdown, attempt to deflect a whole lot of future in-law nonsense (with no assistance from my soon-to-be husband), cope with the murder of an acquaintance, losing my job due largely to inability to cope, planning a wedding with dwindling finances, and finally actually walking down the aisle.

The second half of 2003, and first half of 2004 consisted of finding another job, enduring a lot of meddling from my father-in-law pertaining to the job, taking a lot of abuse from the in-laws because I wasn't comfortable with that meddling, and finally leaving that job due to paranoia based on things he knew (that he shouldn't have), and things that were said to other people. I also tried to help my mother-in-law with  planning her other son's wedding (that never happened). In addition to that, he moved into the apartment below us, so we (I) were expected to keep an eye on him, particularly after his relationship crumbled. He had a lot of issues, and his mother had even more issues with letting him go. We were expected to watch him, coddle him, and allow him to do whatever he wanted, even though it screwed with our sanity, as well as the sanity of my mother on the first floor.

Because I was home, I endured a lot of the police welfare checks (because he had threatened to kill himself, or he had been self-harming and people at his job were concerned). And then there were the knocks on our doors at 3am from his friends, who were concerned, and knew we had a key. His mother became more concerned, but instead of doing something herself about it, she put even more pressure on us to watch him. Because at the time, her marriage was in trouble. That gave me yet another job of confidante for her. I begged my then-husband to intervene and ask his family to back off, but he wouldn't do it.

By the second half of 2004, I became damn near incapable of coping with much at all. I spent the next three or so years unable to decide what to do. So I'd sit and wait for things to happen. I would wake up in the morning, watch television all day, and wait for him to come home. The housework never got done unless my mother came up to help (which turned into her doing it all). I didn't try to get a job. I didn't shower often. I barely left the house. And my husband secretly started resenting me. I couldn't pull my head from my ass, because I didn't even bother to try.

Things got worse with my marriage, too. I felt he wasn't even trying to take my feelings into consideration. I also felt like he didn't have my back with his family (or anyone). He started retreating further into his video games, and I became rather mean.

I've struggled with depression several times in my life, but it had never manifested itself quite like this before. And my ability to cope was severely crippled by a distinct lack of giving a shit. It was a vicious cycle, indeed.

The only reason I started leaving the house again was because, in mid-2007, a job basically fell into my lap. I made some friends (who weren't the greatest, as it would turn out). But I still dragged myself along for about three more years, before I got off the nightmare train and decided to start fixing my life. But now I wonder how well I actually did in that endeavor. I feel like I'm slipping back into old patterns. There have been a lot of adjustments the past year, and some stress to deal with, but I'm not miserable...

I worry that the depression is something that is a bit out of my control. I wonder if it's something I need more than just smiles and chipper optimism to combat...

Welcome back, Miss M!

I got a divorce yesterday. And I'm fine. Oddly fine.

My ex and I got along fine, even managing to live under the same roof for two years after we separated (and before I moved out of state). I knew it was the right thing to do. Hell, I'm in a fantastic relationship with someone who supports me and is the right person for me. I couldn't wait for it to happen! I figured this would be the easy part. No sweat whatsoever.

But I had seen what happened to my Mother when her divorce was finalized. She and my father had been separated for the better part of 8 years (with a few attempts at reconciliation thrown in). She was wrecked, even though it wasn't particularly a surprise. I've never really seen someone get through the divorce unscathed. I was worried.

There was a part of me that felt like I'd failed. I never wanted to be a divorcee. I wondered if I'd tried hard enough to fix it. The thing is, it wasn't worth fixing. At the end, it wasn't making either of us happy, and I've accepted that fact. The folly was in getting married in the first place, not in how we handled the end. We managed to remain friends (until his girlfriend became uncomfortable with it), and we're still civil. I've forgiven him for what he did to me, and I've moved on with my life. I'm a far better person now than I was before.

OK, good. No guilt from the decision. But would I feel a sudden emptiness, or melancholy? I just didn't want to deal with that kind of downer. I wanted to truly be over it like I believed myself to be. I knew in my head, heart, and soul that it was over. I knew for absolute certainty that I am in a better place, and I am happier than I've ever been before. But there's always that stupid, irrational grief that comes with the death of anything. Isn't there?

Turns out, the answer is no. I received the message from the ex at 9:46am that it was done. He had, in his grubby little paws, the signed divorce decree with the official shiny gold seal of truth. It was really done. No hitches, no problems; easy peasy done. I sat there and waited. Nothing. No somersault in my gut, no emptiness, not even a frown. In fact, I felt lighter and less tense than I'd felt in years. I had to test this further, though. I first calculated how long it had been from beginning to end. 8 years, 7 months, 11 days (in reality, it had lasted less than five and a half years). I then brought up the wedding song on YouTube. At the beginning of the end, it had made me cry. As time went on, it made me angry. This time, nothing at all. Not even the smallest pang of meh crossed my stomach. Nothing. In fact, I found myself thinking about J, the man in my life now (who is the right person for me, and the love of my life).

And then it dawned on me: I'm free. Free from doubt. Free from the guilt. Free from the sadness. Free from the pain. Just Free.

Yesterday, I woke up for the last time as Mrs. E. This morning, I woke up as Miss M. I woke up to the man I love kissing me and telling me he loves me. I woke up free to live my life with no tethers to the past. I make decisions strictly for the good of who I am now, and for the good of my future.

There was no fear, no sadness, no looking back. I only look forward now, to being who I want to be and living life the way I should have from the beginning.

This is the first day of the rest of my life.

When does the giving end??

I'm starting to feel like I've bent myself so far for other people, that I don't remember what shape I'm supposed to be anymore. I've swallowed the proverbial dick while they go off to be perfectly happy. I smile and act like it's all good so that people will be put at ease, when inside, my stomach is in knots. I make excuses for things I do because someone has a problem with it. I sacrifice my own sanity, happiness, and time for someone, only to quietly step aside when I become inconvenient for them.

When do I make all of this end? When will I get my head out of my ass and make it less about them, and more about me? Oh, how selfish I feel for even thinking that. I'm laying all of my eggs in one notoriously unreliable basket. That basket has failed me more times than I can count, has hurt me more than anything else in the world ever has, has cast me aside because I am no longer convenient (again). And yet, that very basket is where the course of the better part of the upcoming year has been placed. So, until Wednesday, I wait. I wait to see if Mr. Basket will be able to pull his wicker head from his woven ass. I wait to see if he can handle the last thing he will ever have to do for me. I wait to see if I'll be free at last to live my life.

And I wait to see if this will finally allow me to get over being betrayed, forgotten, ignored, torn apart, and cast off by someone who was supposed to take care of me, but didn't. I wait to see if it will allow me to forgive myself for keeping quiet while this happened for too many years; and for being so foolish as to be there to support him when it all blew up in his face.

Nothing really of substance, today. Just a bitch-fest for my own sanity, I suppose.

Another September Dies

Each year, September seems to be a bad month for me. But I can't quite figure out why. Are they really so horrible, the things that happened this month? It was more aftermath of the summer, if I'm honest. But it's like walking under a ladder for thirty days at a time, it seems. Every little thing that happens is noticed. The damn washer that didn't spin my clothes and the dryer only making them warm and slightly less wet. The broken promise from J's job. The fact that I'm still waiting for a court date. The job I didn't get. The cold I did get. Tripping up the stairs. Stress regarding money. Wanting so badly for it to end and get better.

I really could go on. I don't have the insight or the observations I has on this day last year. I'll just be glad to wake up tomorrow, in the arms of my love, and have this month be over. October is usually a better month. It is my favorite, after all.

I'm not responsible...

I'm not responsible for your decision that what you had wasn't good enough (even though it was far more than most men would have been allowed to get away with). I'm not responsible for your decision to fuck her, repeatedly, on our furniture, in our home. I am responsible for not getting the help I should have and letting my depression go on too long. But I am not responsible for your continued spending spree after I lost my job.

I am no longer responsible for your happiness. I need to take responsibility for my own. You DO deserve to be happy, but YOU must be the one who wants it.

I took responsibility for my own happiness and I was able to start finding it. I'm still working on it, and I still have a long way to go. But I've recognised that I'm the one responsible for it. I cannot lean on anyone for my own happiness or contentment, and neither can you. I cannot blame anyone for any misery I've suffered, and neither can you. Other people can effect our lives in horrible (or wonderful) ways, but we cannot lay our burdens solely on them. We have the choice on how we can deal with it. NO ONE can take that from us.

But I cannot take the blame anymore. We both made mistakes, we both hurt each other. And we both gave each other gifts of joy, growth, and good times. I do think that you don't see that. I feel that you only blame, and don't understand why I did what I ended up doing. It's because I couldn't allow myself to be hurt anymore. And I couldn't push anymore.

Death, and falling into a hole.

My car has died in a most spectacular manner. I've had it since it was new, about 14 years ago and, while we've had a bit of a love/hate relationship, I'm oddly devastated. She's been rough for a while and it didn't exactly surprise me...

...but I didn't expect the wholesale failure of the engine. Its blown. I'm not sure I can keep my job, as it is farther than I am comfortable taking the bus to. And there isn't really an easy way to get a replacement right now. and now, I'm back to feeling relatively useless.

And with the critical failures of several things in the past month, not to mention the things hanging over our heads that are coming up in the last part of the year, we are both reaching the end of our ropes.

Neither of us is really able to do much of anything at the moment, which worries me.

While my angel sleeps

Watching him nap on the couch, I can't help but think about how very lucky I am to have found him. He'll wake up and apologize for  "boring" me, or for snoring, but he has no need to be sorry. There are few things sweeter than how he looks when he is asleep, though I hope so much that he is at peace right now and his dreams are kind to him. My life is wonderful with him in it, snoring or not (though I would not call what he does snoring at all).

Anniversary of a nightmare

This week marks two years since the worst week of my entire life took place. I hadn't thought about it in a rather long time, but unfortunately the beginning of that week corresponds with the birth of a friend's child. Remembering that he was turning two, it all came back.

Well I don't want it anymore. The memories of my pain, and of how absolutely skewed my 'vision' was as a result. I remember waking up at 5am every morning, afraid to let anything out of my sight for fear it would all go away. I remember thinking if I could just fix myself and who I was, it would be okay again. I remember knowing that it was because I was not good enough, that I was unworthy. I deserved every bit of it. That kind of self loathing is not something I care to remember.

But neither are the anger, hatred, and feelings of betrayal. I don't want to blame myself anymore, but neither do I want to lose the indifference and start hating again. I've found a wonderful life that I don't want to taint with this nonsense. I wish I could hide from this past and this fear, but it comes back at the worst times.

I am again starting to hope that people who've wronged me are miserable. I don't even want to give a shit anymore! But it comes back again...

So today is two years since I found out the worst of the betrayals. I don't want to think about it or remember it, but I can't seem to help myself.

Other than that bit of joy, things have been weird for other reasons too. I don't need more on top of that. I'm looking forward to things going back to the way they were last year. But I suppose things won't go back, but I long for them to go forward.

Winter's Night

On a cold Winter's night, I looked over at you. I could see your profile, barely illuminated by the kitchen light. It was dark, but I could see each feature of your face as if it were perfect daylight. I have your beautiful face memorized. I gaze at you often, and I see it in my dreams most every night. You were playing your game, and you looked content.

At that moment, I fell in love with you again for the hundredth time.

It's not that I've ever stopped loving you, but there are moments when I am overwhelmed. The same feeling I had when I first realised I love you swells up and crashes into me like a tidal wave. I can't breathe, there is joy that you're here, and there is fear that you won't be. Then you look over and smile at me. I can see in your eyes that the smile is real, and it's for me alone. Your smile, your touch, your kiss make everything alright.

As the last few hours of 2010 tick down, I can't help but think about the things that happened to us separately, the things that have damaged us and hurt us. While I know they are all things that brought us to this point in time, I still wish they didn't have to happen. I'm a little bit sorry to see this year end. It is the year that brought you to me, and the year I moved home. It's the year I found what true friendship is, and the year that gave me kinship. But it started with the taint of an old life. I lost a lot. While much of it was definitely for the best, there are things I can keenly feel the loss of.

On this eve of the new year, I am looking forward to a fresh page on the calendar. This coming year will see us celebrating our first year together. It will see us continue to build our life together, and further our wonderful relationship. I am looking forward to this next year of our life, and every year. I will love you for each and every day, and many of those days will find me falling in love with you yet again. For that I am so thankful.

There are other things I'm looking forward to the new year for as well, but I'll get into them another day.

In Closing of 2010

I know there's a week left, but the end of the year really is very close. A lot has happened and I've been reflecting a lot on that lately.

I've lost a lot of friends this year due to many factors, most of which were my choice. There was too much of an expectation placed on my by some of these people to be something I'm not. I didn't want to share everything anymore, or I couldn't handle the expectation of dropping everything for them when they couldn't even be there when I called. Lots of reasons, all of them healthy for my growth. There was one I lost that was as a result of my cutting out another. That was the only one I was upset about. But in thinking about it, I've realised I'm much better off there as well.

I've left New Jersey. I also left my girls (a dog and two bearded dragons)and my family. Saying goodbye to all of them was hard, as well as leaving the only home I had ever known at the time. It was also something I had never done before, which was scary as hell for me.

But this was the year that I finally got to meet, in person, someone who I had been talking to for a long time. This was someone who became very important to me and to whom I loved talking. He also turned out to be the love of my life. For that one addition to my life alone, this was the best year of my life. I'm also looking forward to the new year for the first time in a very long time. I know our future will be just as wonderful as our present is. I cannot properly convey in words just how much he means to me, and how happy he makes me. I could not love anyone as much as I love him.

Another addition to my life this year are the two friends I met along with my Love. They've become very important people to me, as well as my Kin. The four of us formed a Kindred at our Júl celebration and it was a wonderful night. They have made me feel extremely welcomed, and like I've been around far longer than the almost six months that I actually have.

I have completed week one of training at my new job. It's going well so far.I'm happy that I'll be able to contribute to our life and our future in a financial capacity. I've learned a lot and I think I'm doing well so far.

For 2011, I don't want much. I've found happiness and I hope to keep that, and have even more. I'm hoping to be able to start school and have one piece of unpleasant business taken care of. I'm hoping for a few other things that I don't want to tell anyone about. A girl has to have some secrets that she whispers only to the spirits.

For Christmas, I only want happiness for my Love, for my Mother and Papa L, for my dear friend, my girls, my Kin, and my friends. Tomorrow, I will feel some emptiness for those who aren't here with me, but my heart will be filled to bursting with the joy and excitement of a first holiday season with the man I love most in the world. That, and his family is pretty cool, so it will be a great day.