Hi again

I feel bad that it's been so long since I blogged. I quit working at Benihana and went to London. Mythology and Urban Anthropology are fascinating subjects and I love them. I was sleeping around when I was in London because before I left, Stir Fry said something that I thought was him being okay with me sleeping around. It doesn't matter what he said, I was so willing to have his approval to sleep around... Anyway, when I came back, he told me that he was just kidding. So I basically cheated on him for six weeks.

I told him about it and he wasn't even angry with me, just hurt. But I couldn't live with myself. The next morning, he said it's great waking up to your favorite person. How can I still be his favorite person after I cheated on him? I shouldn't be. I couldn't live with knowing I've taken him on such a rollercoaster ride the past couple months. From taking a break to not taking a break to this... I just can't do it anymore. He's been such a great friend to me but I think that's where we should stay until I figure out who the fuck I am. Because I never thought I'd do that to anyone, but I did... And he was willing to stay with me. He was more hurt that I broke up with him than anything, because he loves me. But I don't love him. I mean, I love spending time with him and he's a great friend. I love that we do things together and he shows me new things, tv shows, music, etc, but... I don't love him.

What if I just kill myself? I thought that just now. What if I just disappear? After a while, people would stop looking and accept that I'm gone. The newspapers and news stations would lost interest. I'd be a dust particle in the wind. I don't know. I'm not suicidal, I just wish life was easy. I wish my nephew wasn't dead and that the grieving process wasn't so weird. I wish I knew what kind of person I was and why I did what I did. I wish I wasn't so fucked up. But most of all, I wish I didn't feel okay for so long and then randomly crash into suicidal thoughts. I guess that's it for now.

A while ago, my counselor asked me something.

She asked how I felt being the "together" child. The one no one needs to worry about. At the time my younger sister was in a psych ward and my older sister still is in jail. My answer is still true now.

It's always been like this. My older sister has always been in trouble and my younger sister has always been the focus of my mother's attention and affection. I'm the one "she doesn't need to worry about".

I think that's why I feel like I don't matter sometimes. I grew up in a family where I didn't get as much attention as the other two siblings, so I don't speak up when something's wrong. When something bothers me or I need help, I try to do it myself rather than inconvenience other people.

Just the curse of being the middle child. I've heard it from other middle children. They're the functional ones. No one really pays the middle child any attention unless something is wrong. They only have liability insurance whereas the other children are fully insured and get regular checkups.

This isn't an excuse. I shouldn't use this reasoning to continue not speaking my mind and not telling people what I'm feeling, but when you're raised getting those subconscious messages, what else can you do but stick with them?

I'm trying really hard to defeat this part of myself, because my problems do matter. I need help sometimes and I need affection as often as other people. I guess that's why I'm always in a relationship. My dad isn't very affectionate and my mom's affection is directed towards my younger sister most of the time.

It makes sense, doesn't it? I think that's why I like Tadpole so much. He makes me laugh and pays me the attention and gives me the affection I don't get from anyone else.

I suppose that's why there's no "perfect person" out there, there are people who are perfect for each of us.

The weird thing about grieving for someone is that for a while you think you're okay. You still smile and laugh and enjoy life but then you remember that they're gone forever, that you'll never hug or hold them again. Grief is a weird cycle because I can go from okay to screaming in the same day. From acceptance back to denial back to disbelief.

I want to be around people, and I don't. I'm lonely but I want to be alone. I don't know if I'm okay. I don't know if I'll ever be okay again. Right when I think I'm okay, I break down, I shatter again. Just when I feel like I was piecing myself back together.

Do I even want to have kids with this brutal reminder that they can be snatched away and no one can do anything about it?

I don't know.

I keep breaking down

I was in class a few days ago and Tristan popped into my head and I started crying. Just now I was thinking about when Briana gets out of jail. I thought about when and if she tries to come to my parents' house for Christmas. Christmas. The day he was murdered.

The suicidal thoughts I had before were gone, now I just miss him. I miss my little peanut. He was so small, so innocent, so sweet. Once when Darrin and I were on FaceTime, Tristan blew him kisses before he left.

I keep having horrific visions of what his last moments were like. Utter fear and confusion. Wherever his spirit is, I apologize for not being able to help him and I tell him that he is so loved, I send him my love even in death and hope it gets to him. I hope he knows we love him. I hope that on some higher level of consciousness, he understands that there's nothing we wouldn't have done for him.

The number two keeps hitting me. He was only 2 years old. He didn't even get to turn 3. He didn't get to grow up and go to school with other kids. He didn't get to graduate high school, go to college, get married like he was supposed to. He'll never again feel the sun on his face or walk next to his Pop Pop. He won't open gifts with his Gigi and I'll never get to hold him again.

Christmas time used to be my favorite time of year. Now, I don't know what it'll be. I don't want to celebrate or sing songs, I don't want a tree. I want to watch videos of him and look at his pictures. I want to cry and scream and throw things. I want to remember his happy little face and stop imagining his fearful last moments.

I don't want to put my life on hold, though. I know that would do no good. I just want my goddamn nephew.

 

It's not fair...

Being away from someone you care deeply about. That's how I feel being away from Tadpole. I was only attracted to Patrick because he was so good-looking, but Tadpole makes me laugh no matter what. He's just a funny person who's known some sadness in his life and has chosen to be happy. I admire that in him.

I'm planning my life out and I want Tadpole to be a part of it. He's a very good match for me, someone that I trust and that wants me for himself. It just sucks that our lives don't match up right now. We both have shitty wifi, so video chatting is sucky, and texting is nothing like talking to him face to face.

Even though I'm grieving and my sister is dealing with a mental disorder, I still find myself thinking about Tadpole. He wants to be with me and have kids and live together, without a doubt. The only problem is, it could be 3 years until I see him again. It's not a terribly long time, but I think he may be the one for me. The best one. The best friend, the lover, the life partner.

That just makes it shitty that I may not see him again for three years. But what I try to focus on is that we met at all. Despite both being born and raised in the same state, we both met each other all the way across the country, and I think we fell for each other the day we met. The more I talk to him, the more my chest hurts knowing he's so far.

Three years isn't a long time, but it'll suck. He wants me to wait to do the Peace Corps, but I can't. I can't wait to help people. I'm not cut out for the Army, the Navy, the Air Force, the Marine Corps, any of that, so I have to help people another way. I don't want to spend my life taking and never giving back to the global community. I have to focus myself on what has to be done first and then on what I can do later. I want to do the Peace Corps and then start graduate school because I want to do both and get them out of the way.

I know that Tadpole will always be there for me, no matter what. Three years from the fall, I will spare no expense to reunite us. I'll do anything in my power just to be in his presence again for as long as possible. But until then, I'll have to put up with the hurt in my chest.

This isn't to say that Stirling isn't a great boyfriend, he is. He's just not the one for me. He talked me through my nephew's murder, my sister's bipolar diagnosis and he's a great listener, but both of us know we won't last long as a couple. He hasn't found who will be his 'the one', but my heart will always be Tadpole's.

Best lyrics:

I am the sun, I am the air. I am human and I need to be loved, just like everybody else does.

Go on

As I sat waiting in my car to deposit my check, someone walk near my car. I waited for them to leave before I got out of my car, I was scared. It was 10 PM and I was by myself. Once I walked over to deposit my check I heard a man's voice call out to me. I couldn't hear and the man looked polite enough, so I walked towards him. He asked if I knew any good place to camp out because he was homeless. I told him a place that he could camp out, but told him that there are some patrolman that sometimes go around to check parking, and that he should be careful to stay near the water in the street. He thanked me for the advice and then turned to walk away. I feel so guilty for being a for being afraid of him when he just wanted to know a safe place to camp out for the night. And it got me thinking, life is hard for a lot of people, how dare I let anything stop me from helping people. That's what I was meant to do, I always knew it. People in the world have very bad lives. I know there are some people who devote their lives to changing legislation, to activism, but I need to be the person that goes and actually helps. And nothing should get it The way of that, not even my grief. Because life goes on.

Life isn't fair

But what else is new?

My mother will never be as happy as she was when Tristan was alive. When I have my first child, we'll cry. We'll cry for happiness and we'll cry for sorrow. We'll celebrate life and acknowledge it's eventual evaporation. For what else can we do?

Here I sit in my room talking to Tristan's spirit. Telling him he is loved and never forgotten. Even in his death I send him positive energy. I tell him he is so loved. I tell him we would do anything for him. I tell him that even though he is gone, he is a part of our hearts and we will always love him.

Even though I find myself thinking, Tristan will never experience this. He'll never eat at a Benihana, I am almost glad he is gone. He would have grow up with two abusive parents that sheltered him from real love.

Months before, she asked us not to contact her and Tristan. She asked us to stop being in his life. At the time, that was too much. My mother and I cried on the phone when she told me. It wasn't fair of her to take him from us.

And now that we'll never see him again... That's too much for my soul to handle. I find myself crying, screaming. He would have turned three on February 27th. That makes me sick to my stomach. But when I go to the toilet, I can't be sick. All I can do is cough and drool, dry heave and cry.

I want to be sick. I want something to hurt so I can fix it. I want something to be physically wrong with me so that I can make it right, because I can't make my mind right. I can't stop the horrific images of what his last moments were like.

I can't stop the sorrow. I can't stop the pain and I can't stop him from being dead. I can only whisper to him. Send him all the positive energy I have. I can only remember him dancing, talking and yelling. Smiling and happy at Christmas time.

But Christmas will never be the same. Nothing will ever be the same.

-_-

I can't donate blood until September 1st because I had sex with Patrick, who's slept with other men. That would've been nice to know before I drove all the way to the donation center. I guess I'm also upset for lots of reasons.

I've been irritable lately. I don't think it's a part of the grief process, but it very well could be. I don't wanna go out really, I want to sleep and eat. Hopefully Stirling will make me do outdoorsy stuff this weekend. His mom is going out of town, so I'm spending this weekend with him. Should be awesome :)

Happier

It's so nice having a boyfriend that's as attentive as Stirling is. He's really amazing because he can tell when I'm upset and he isn't freaked out by it. He's really good with my emotions and with my physical distress. He gives me lots of massages whenever I need them, and even when I don't.

Here's the story: we went to the beach and sat down in the sand with our subway sandwiches. We dug a hole for the bonfire and put the newspaper, pinecones, and wood in the hole. I wrapped myself in the blanket that I made and snuggle close to him while he watched the sunset. Once the sun was looking like it was going to set soon, I grab the bag of gifts that I made him. I made him a poster with the pictures from when we went to the Monterey Bay aquarium, a blue and green art piece that I made, a blue heart that I crocheted, and a Cthulhu mug (because he loves everything Cthulhu).

I did everything I meant to do except it took me a long time to sing to him. I have the perfect song picked out; The way I am by Ingrid Michaelson. I have been practicing in for about a week before hand but once it was time to sing, I was really nervous. Interesting because I haven't been nervous in a very long time. But I was nervous to sing to him. It took me a long time to summon up the courage, but finally well if you're watching the fire on their very cold night on Carmel beach, I sang to him and I think he liked it.

On the way home, we stopped at a Safeway and he picked up some Smirnov ices that we drink at his place while we watch the Princess bride. Then we went to sleep and I had to wake up and go to work the next morning. That was the most perfect day that I've ever had with just one other person. It'll be hard to top that day ever again.

I really like that I make him so happy just by being me. He doesn't want me to change, he doesn't want me to be less myself. He's completely happy with me being anything really. And I really like spending time with him. He is probably the most considerate person I've ever met, massaging my hands, my back, my neck… whenever it looks like I might be in physical pain, he's there to help me out.

But perhaps the best thing about Stir Fry is that we can have respectful intellectual arguments about anything. We often talk about women who call themselves feminists that aren't, because that particularly upset him, but whenever we argue we do it from a place of respect. I hadn't gotten that from a romantic partner before him.

In other news, I am indeed going to London over the summer. I just turned in my application for the scholarship today, and will see if I get it! Despite everything shitty that's been happening in the past couple months, I'm really glad that I didn't have to slow down my life too much for it. Although I miss my nephew and my sister is now in a ward, I am still going forward with everything I plan to do. And I am proud of me for that because that proves to me that I am a strong person.

What I've been trying to do is see the beauty in life especially after my nephew was murdered. Even while we were in North Carolina, I found beauty in the bowl that I made for my mother, the throw that I made for myself and the second that I made for my parents. Now I find beauty in the sky, the wind in the trees, the hearts that I crochet, the art that I do, in life itself. It's a difficult thing to go through, but I have such a great network with my parents, Stir Fry, and my very strong will. I've never been the type of person to close my heart for any reason, and I won't start now.