So I shared this blog with one of my friends finally. This has been a private blog for me - written more for when I'm in a time of need or despair. She mentioned that the blog seemed dark - especially with the background. I've decided that I'm keeping this background - not because it represents the turmoil that was happening in my life when I first started the blog but rather, because the storm has subsided and the sun is slowly coming out. The background used to represent the darkness and despair and grieft that I felt, now I look at it as the sun coming out, of the storm breaking, a new beginning, I guess you could say.

Almost two years ago, my heart shattered into pieces. I didn't think I was strong enough to bear it. Sure, people knew I was grieving but they thought that I was getting better by the day but I knew better. Not many people had to deal with seeing someone they love pass away, let alone finding them that way. I, on the other hand, did. I still remember everything that happened that night, every sound, smell, touch and sight. The coldness, the fabric of my friend's jacket as I ran to him for a hug, my collapse onto the ground after everything finally sank in, how Nic's jacket was hurting me as I hung on for dear life.

I still sometimes replay everything in my head - not because I want to but because, sometimes, you have to relive it, to let go of it. The more I've talked about it, the easier it has become. That's not to say that it's all gone but it's not as unbearable and I have moved on somewhat.

Unfortunately, I was already a cynical person to begin with, doubting the true love thing and always getting scared when something good does happen relationship-wise. Now I feel I've  given up a little - forever an outsider, watching wistfully as others find the loves of their lives, while I stand still, still searching. Will it eventually happen? I'd like to think so but could it? I'm not sure but I sure hope so. Perhaps he'll come to his senses. Doubt it but hope is what keeps us going right?

Vents

So i'm sitting here at 12:34am on a Saturday night, venting. It's been months since I've posted my last blog, that is if I did at all. I might have made it private. Here's the thing. a have quite a few things to vent about.

Vent #1: I have a huge dislike for lurker, guys that don't give you your personal space. It's multiplied about tenfold when the lurker is a friend of your friend's and you're so frustrated that he's creeping you that you have to leave early. That was the situation today. In short, I'm annoyed and the guy's creepy.

Vent #2: I don't understand guys. I know I've been out of the dating game for awhile but I can't really read people anymore. I'm not sure what means someone is interested in you and what means they want something more than just friends - i.e. a relationship. Don't get me wrong, I don't want to rush into anything but I also don't want to waste my time. So how do you tell?

Vent #3: I still haven't figured out what I want to do yet. Do I want to continue or not? It's frustrating. I thought I would know but I don't.

6 months now

I forgot about today. It was an important day. In fact, I forgot about May 23rd. I had just arrived to Italy on May 23rd but it would have been our 2 year anniversary. Today is 6 months to the day that I found Brett lying in his bed. Yet somehow I had forgotten about that until I went onto his wall and read postings from his family. I even thought it was out of the blue that his mom had told me she wished me a lifetime of happiness -when in fact, I had forgotten. Should I be forgetting so soon? It's only been 6 months. Am I moving on, if I am, is it too soon? I can still remember everything, the walk up to the room, him lying on his stomach, the smell, the ambulance call, me sliding down against the wall after the paramedics told me they were sorry that he was gone, me ramming into Nic for a hug when he showed up. These memories don't seem to go away. My only comfort of that night is that I didn't see his face, that I can forever remember him with his smile and his pretty green eyes with golden specks.

I should've recognized that there was something about today...but I didn't until I was leaving the office. It doesn't mean I've forgotten about him though. I still talk to him on almost a daily basis and memories of him still cross my mind often. I know I'll be ok, I always am but how much of it is me saying that it's ok and how much of it is me actually being ok? That one, I'll never know but just let me cry a little, for this too, shall pass.

I love you Brett and I miss you. We all do.

Memories

For the most part I'm fine, good even. Today, also...but then I got out of work early and figured I'd go to my old stomping ground at Borders to try and attempt to work a little. It didn't turn out so good. I ended up browsing on Facebook and then going through the private messages I received.

This weekend I realized that I missed our anniversary - May 23rd. How do I miss that? I know I had just arrived in Italy that day but still, it's not something I should have missed. I'm glad I'm at Borders - here I have to control my emotions so that I can be composed when I get home. I couldn't do this at home - it'd be too hard for them. For me, hanging by a thread but at least it's one strong thread - reinforced somehow on sheer will.

Sitting in his room

Sigh.....this week had been mostly good with some tears but that's to be expected. I'm semi-laying and semi-sitting in Brett's bed, next to the walrus he made in his theater(?) class at Auburn. I was under the false illusion that his family were getting better but really, it's just bubbling right below the surface. I'm not sure what I can say or do to make things easier or better for them. I lost a boyfriend but they lost their son. My loss seems so insignificant to them. When I got there, Kathy thought for a second that Brett would be right next to me. I'm not sure if I'm just causing more pain or hurting. I don't know.

Shouldn't it be better?

It's been 3 months and 8 day since I found Brett passed away in his bed. Shouldn't things have gotten better? I mean yes, they aren't as painful as that night but not a day goes by that I don't think about him or even talk to him. When I talk to other people about Brett, it's all in present tense. I can't seem to even say he's an ex-boyfriend because he's not. He's the boyfriend, the one that passed away. It should be better right but I still feel different. Will it actually get better? Does it actually heal? I hate thinking about what-ifs but I wish we could've had more time. Perhaps things wouldn't have worked out but at least I'd be left with answers, not questions and more thoughts.

Crossroads

It's been a few years since I've used my old blog. I figure it's time for a change. After all, when I had first started my blogs, I was at a different job and was in a different relationship. In fact, the only thing that stayed constant is the fact that I still live at home with my parents. That part hasn't changed at all. Oh wait, yes it has, my sister has since gone off to Singapore so it's really just me, my parents and Beau (my dog). I can't say life has been easy but I certainly can't say life has been hard. Living at home has its advantages but there are also costs - such as the loss of freedom, the tendency for there to be lots of things you must help with around the house. It wouldn't be so bad if my life was my own but instead but I feel like I'm giving up my life to be with my parents. You might say well if that's the case, why don't you move out? Well unfortunately, that's something far easier said than done. If I were to move out, the first question that will come up is "What? You would rather pay to live with a stranger than to live with your parents?" And believe me when I say that it's not as easy as answering "yes" to that question. Ingrained into my mind is years and years of Confucius thinking - honor your parents for they have raised you, put clothes on your back, made sacrifices for you. Now that they are older, shouldn't it be your turn? But at what point, does that line blur and when your sacrifices seem to outweigh theirs. Or can it outweigh everything they have done to get you to where you are today? Once again, I'm torn - at a crossroad and once again, I'm not sure what to do.