Apologies

I'm sorry I keep perpetuating something that will never happen.
I'm not sure why I keep doing that.
Especially when I would say 'no' anyway.
I'm sorry I keep bringing it up, and hoping you'll bring it up.
I'm sorry it means so much to me.

I'm sorry I keep harping on you and making you feel guilty.
I'm sorry I want you to feel guilty.
No, I don't want you to feel guilty. I want you to notice I want you to.
I actually want you to tell me you're  just joking and there's nothing to be guilty about.
I want you to reaffirm our bond and friendship, even though it's not your job.
I'm sorry I grate on you.
I'm sorry I get offended by your looks.
I'm sorry I don't believe in you.
I'm sorry I'm not confident enough in myself to believe I could continue to be your friend.
I'm sorry I put you through pain until I stop this.

I'm sorry I couldn't make you happy.
I hope your happy now. Do you still remember me?
I bet you do. I sort of don't want you to.
I'm sorry I sometimes don't want to see you.
I'm sorry I'm a tempramental jerk.
I'm sorry you met me.
I'm sorry I met you.
But I am so, so glad.
You are such a great friend.
You deserve so much better than me.
Thank you for staying beside me.
I'm sorry I don't want you to be too close.
(Thank you for worrying about me. Please don't hurt yourself.)

I'm sorry I expect more of you.
I adore you.
Please be my friend.
 I'm sorry I expect you to notice my sandness.

I'm sorry I compare myself to you.
I'm sorry I don't feel confident in myself even when you say I'm better.
I'm sorry I can't act like you.
I think you're amazing. I want to be you.
I'm sorry I try to trouble you with my problems.
Your's are so, so, so much worse. Mine don't compare.
But they're still problems.
I'm sorry you have to hold two roles at once.
You're my best friend.
I'm sorry I try to change you for the better.
I'm sorry I care so much.
I'm sorry I keep worrying, even though you tell me not to.
I'm sorry I'll never listen.
Thank you for saving me.

I'm sorry I keep staring at you.
........///
I can't help it.


I'm sorry
I'm sorry
I'm sorry
I'm so sorry
I'm so, so sorry
Please forgive me don't forgive me
I'm so, so, so sorry
I'm sorry
Please
I'm sorry
Forgive me
It's hard enough for me to forgive myself.
(I'm so sorry)
(Sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry.)

I'm sorry I don't always listen.
I'm sorry I couldn't be who You're people say I should.
But I love You more than anyone and try to enact Your will, and that more than makes up for it.
Right?
I'm sorry I am quick to thoughts, but not words or actions.
Please tell me if I can improve.
I live only to please, and to serve.


I'm so sorry you're sad.
Each day you look a bit older.
A bit bitter.
A bit more disappointed.
I'm sorry you feel dejected.
I'm sorry I am not the most quick to the uptake, and fast to adventure.
I'm sorry I do not play your games and fall into your ploys.
Oh, how very strongly I wish I did.
We would both be so much happier.
......I'm sorry.
I'm so worried.
It's hard to show it sometimes, though.
I wish I was better at playing.

Do I have anything to apologize for?
If I do, I sincerely and genuinely apologize.
I don't ever want to make you sad.
I'll try my best to work as hard as you do.

I'm sorry I sometimes go off on you.
I don't hate you.
I really don't.
I just hate what you believe.
I detest it, in fact.
It makes my blood boil.
'They are lesser people', you say?
You compare me to those people--some am I a 'lesser person' in your eyes?
Is that why you cannot treat me as your equal?
I like you, respect you, hold you in high esteem--
So I'm sorry that there are times when I believe I despise you.
I don't!

I'm sorry I dream of you.

I'm sorry I'm such a good actor.
I'm sorry I expect people notice my pain.
I'm sorry I hold onto my dispair like a life rope.
I'm sorry I need people to know me.
I'm sorry I'm obsessed with affection.
I'm sorry I act out of line.
I'm sorry I don't measure up.
I'm sorry I hate.
I'm sorry I love.
I'm sorry I can not break my own addictions and habits.
I'm sorry I make people worry...
I'm sorry I wish I made people worry.
I'm sorry I hate mself, but
I'm sorry I love myself.
I'm sorry I can't escape my own head even to expand into the world.
I'm sorry that I rush outside and take 'me' with me.
It clings to me with every step.
I'm sorry that I am self absorbed.
I'm sorry I need to apologize to myself.

~-~-~-
(I feel like this is some sort of hell's Christmas list.
I probably won't remember who each paragraph represents by next year. But that's okay, I think.)

 Life is good.

An Analysis on Identity

I've realized recently how easily we can change what we are defined by, and how often I myself do it. During the summer, I am a marching bandie. I wear my marching band clothes, display my horn proudly, practice my steps. During school, I am an artist. When it comes to social issues, I am a bisexual and a gay rights activist. In my solitary moments, I am a Christain and a muscian, and with friends I am part of the Nerd Herd. Inside the realm of my memories, I am the sad one, the depressed one. During certain days or hours, I am the romantic. And now, ever since I've been volunteering at my old elementary school, I wear my visitor sticker to project my identity as a teacher.

It is so easy, just with what you wear or what you do, to completely change what you are identitfied with and how you are perceived by others. Whatever label you place on yourself or allow others to connect with you defines your identity. Often, we categorize people we know using these identities, these usually one word descriptors. And yet, how often do I change my own, depending on the time?

Is there such thing as a singular, all encompassing identity? Sure, there is certainly something that can sum up most of my attributes; if you were to label me Artist, it would be my drawing, writing, music, photography, cooking, and all the other creative pursuits I often strongly associate myself with. But it would be, at the same time, cutting out so much that makes me, me. Suddenly pacifist, dreamer, accepter, religious, needy, asthetic, socially awkward, foolish... All those other characteristic can not be put into one single description.

Is it fair, then, to categorize others by these descriptors? Am I not seeing all sides of them, all the different facets of them? And then, is it unfair of me to always wish someone knew who I am, understood me completely, when I am always changing what i define myself with? Honestly, as sad as it may be, I did not realize I was doing this, and so my expectations of others to know me were needlessly difficult.

I was talking to Rachel about how I realized, we don't really learn every aspect of a person in reality. Unlike in roleplaying, where you're always looking for an opprutunity to expose some part of your character's thought process, or background, real life isn't like that. You can go through an eternity with someone and not learn every single thing about them. This was also a new concept to me; that you may see signs of aspects people have that you may never learn the meanings to, or trigger them many times without knowing it, and make them feel special without ever realizing. There are parts of people that they will take to their graves. And realizing that, I also realize that it is that very fact that makes talking to people so interesting.  If there was a limit to how much you could know about someone, then it would be like in games, where you figure out everything they can say like leveling up and then move on.

I need to apply these observations to my own subconscious behavior. I need to stop expecting people to know every little thing about me, and being disappointed when I realize they don't. I need to stop giving out so much information about myself, believing my thoughts are so important that everyone should know them. I need to accept that things go smoother when I only give information that is asked about me. Narrow my doors a bit, and give others the chance feel curious and decide to open them. Bombarding others with information isn't deepening relationships; it's getting rid of the chance for others to make to conscious decision to want to know me better.

If I can somehow turn these thoughts into action, I'm sure I'd feel a bit more satisfied with my relationships. Now the hard part is doing it.

Life is good.

Random Thoughts

 I remember, during the school year, I drafted many intelligent entries for this blog. Many topics, with nice, eloquent wording and whatnot. I have forgotten them. But here's a few things I think about sometimes. (Warning: probably extremely long word count. You can like, read snippets or something.)

---

When I was a kid, it was nearly impossible to believe in heaven. It wasn't due to the fact that I wasn't religious, though I wasn't, not at all. But just the possibility seemed unthinkable. It's still quite difficult for me to imagine. To die, but live on, with God. I can't image continue living when your life is done. It seems like that time would be meaningless then. Truly, I think every moment of your life, and every event, is planned perfectly so you lived the best you could before you die. That's one of the reasons I don't fear death. So what purpose would there be in continuing to live, when you've already gone through each lesson and event needed to really fulfill you? That's also one of the reasons I am afraid of dying. I don't want to miss out on any of it.

Instead, as a kid, I chose to have a different theory. I decided that life, and all that we were in currently, was like a videotape. There never was any past. There will never be a future. All of those are just fabricated ideas made for this sandbox we are exploring.  World War I is just something in books. The pilgrims never existed, and certainly never found America. All of those are just things made so we believe we have a past. And when we die, our children won't go on living. They'll disappear, because their lives were fabrications as well.  'The world ends with you', one may say.

And then, when we die, our life would just be rewound, and we would live it all over again. And this would keep happening. Time would not move past our life span. It would just be our life. Over and over and over. While a bunch of large deities just watch, in a dimly lit room, and ponder.

Of course, I don't believe in this theory anymore. I know too much about life to think so.  I know other people aren't just fabrications, but they are real people with thoughts and lives. They won't end when I do. And I know from grandparents and wise elders that the past is real and true. So I can't possibly believe in my little 'life is a tape' theory. I'm still not sure if I can believe in heaven, either.

Probably, we fade away. Just, leave. Black. And maybe, see through the eyes of another life, while our death makes an impact in someone else's life, and changes their course.

Yeah, that's probably the closest thing to what I believe right now.

------

It's kind of hard to be bummed about just one person, when you realize just how many people love you.  I've realized that. Mostly angsting over my ex-girlfriend, of course. Who else? But this was for a reason, too. When I just think of all the people around me, I'm just... So happy. So thankful. So faithful. And when I think about my entire life, it's really hard to be dissapointed.

It's actually sort of odd, how my life has turned out. I was depressed for... two years? Two and a half? From the summer of seventh grade until around the middle of ninth. Those were some of the most terrifying years of my entire life. I was constantly afraid. I was always walking on needles. Always in pain. Always afraid of dying. There was one point, during Cinderella, I felt kike like I actually was going to die. I felt my body trying to throw me off the elevated platform. It probably wouldn't have even killed me if I fell, but at that moment, the knowledge that I couldn't even control myself had me shaking for most of the night.

And yet... I look back on those years, and I am nothing but happy for them. In fact, I think depression may have been one of the greatest things that has ever happened to me. And I give God full credit for it.

That depression changed me so much. Sure, it was an injection of overwhelming fear into my veins, but during that time I learned to open my heart to people and make new friends with much deeper bonds, I learned to mature from a kid to a slightly-smarter kid, I learn to have empathy. I got bounds of inspiration from it all, I learned to stay away from pain, I found God in my struggles, and also learned how to help people with depression. I think that's one of the main reasons I became depressed. It was so I could learn a vital skill for my life, and I am so so thankful for it. It helped me find Rachel.

------
I'll write more later. For now...

Life is good.

Imagery

 I think, just as an exercise, I'm going to try to take my current entirity, my situation right now, and chalk it up to imagery. I'll just try to illustrate my now, and see whether the resulting picture helps me understand.

I feel like a blind girl. I'm just sitting on the wooden chair, in the middle of the room.

I'm told not to move. Otherwise, I don't know where I am, and I would get lost. The room is completely foreign to me. I don't know anything about it, what's in it, if there are windows, if there's light. I hear no sounds in my room. I smell no smells. I just sit, until the chair feels like part of me, and I'm not even aware if it anymore. To remember where I am, I just feel the veins of wood, and count the splinters with my fingers, or run my foot down my other leg. I just sit there, and feel, and that is my world. My world is nothing.

And then she comes into my room. And she talks to me. And her voice is more than just words. Her voice is a reminder that there's something outside of myself. Her voice is my senses making out a landscape. Her voice is the world making itself known.

She talks to me, and I talk back.  She speaks of outside my room, of colors, of shapes, of sounds, of a life where one walks and meets new people and finds new things. I listen to every word. She tells me about her life, and I ease her nervousness, her doubts.

She leaves every once in a while, to see more of her surroundings, to find more stories to tell me. I sit in my chair, quiet and empty, waiting for the world to come back and my darkness to brighten.

She comes back. I don't know how much later. I measure time in her visits.

She let's me sit across her lap, and her hand supports me, behind my head. Her fingers feel like miracles. they feel like a sensory overload. They feel like warmth, and cool, and outside. They feel like the only thing I know. Because unlike touching the chair, it's something outside of myself, and it's new, and it's alive.

I smell a smile of her breath. I embrace her warmth. I find comfort in her weight, and I feel a niche to fit in. Her words and voice create vivid life. Her lips are my air. It brings a warmth that nothing else has. It stirrs feelings that were never awoken when I was alone. Its the only beauty and art I am ever aware of.

The only thing in my world is her. I know nothing else. My world has shrunk down to just her.

One day she leaves. I wait for her to come back.

She does not come back.

I just sit, waiting. I realize she is not coming to talk to me anymore. I have nothing left.

 I think. While all I had was her, she had an entire Earth to explore. She would sit next to me in my transparent room and talk all the while seeing out the window, viewing the sunshine and the trees, seeing the birds and knowing their calls in her memory. And while to me, she was my entire world, to her, I was just an anchor, a dull little distraction, a blind girl in a chair. Needy, lonely.

But my room was boring, and she was doing all the work, creating my world, while all I did was listen and love.

So she left.

That is all I can come up with. I do not know her world. I do not know how she lives when she isn't beside me. How could I? Nothing like that exists, not to me.

there is the feeling of helplessness in knowing I can not find her, I do not know where she is. I knwo I love her. I need to find my world.

I lower myself out of the chair, slowly, painfully slowly, my legs shaking, my arms gripping tightly to the chairs side, and I sit on the floor beside it. I am assaulted by a space I do not know. There is air around me, air that I am not familiar with, air that frightens me and makes my chest constrict. I turn back and grip the chair leg at a height that astounds me, unable to let go of my only particle of familiarity.  I can not give chase. I can not leave.

I sit on the floor, think of how my darling's face feels, how her voice sounds, recounting my world as memories, so that when I sleep and dream of her I wake up but don't know I am conscious. I am lost. I feel the splinters of the chair leg embed themselves into my fingers.

My Relationship

I think, slowly, carefully, I am figuring this out.
She probably never loved me. No, wait. She did love me. But it wasn't the way I loved her. It was a different love. And if she loved me before, she probably doesn't love me now. But she cares about me, very very much, and she know I love her.
I think she's scared. She's scared of me. Because I accept her and her every fault and she just doesn't know why, she can't understand why. Because she's sure she doesn't deserve love. She thinks she doesn't deserve trust, deserve acceptance. She can't understand how I could possibly love someone like her, someone so demented and wrong, when I'm seemingly so loving. I think she told me that, once. But overall, she can't imagine it, can't accept it, and she doesn't want to face the raelity she has to accept herself.
I've been telling her that since the first day we broke up, months ago, so long ago. The reason she broke up in the the first place is because she didn't think she was loveable, I told her, and the only way to fix it was to realize she was loveable. And she nodded, and told me, that was probably true. We were walking then, around and around, after she told me we had to break up.
There's been a sort of pattern in our relationship, I think. She always has to do something to disrupt us, to hurt us, and then she feels so so guilty, and she wants to break it off. I think I finally know why that is.
I'm not sure if it's conscious or not, but I think she's trying to hurt me. To disappoint me. To make me give up on her. That way, she can feel terrible and reassure herself she isn't worth anything, and she can give up on herself. Finally let herself slip.
She probably never wanted the kind of relationship we had. I remember last year, she told me that she liked bad boys. I remember being a bit put off by that. But she was sort of crazy back then.
I think she always wanted a relationship with that bad boy. Someone who could toss her around, and treat her like crap, but still be in a relationship and own her. So she could 'get what she deserved', but still hold onto that dream of love she's always had.
I'm anything but a bad boy. I'm the snuggle-cuddle-until-you-suffocate type. I gave her a dozen red roses on Valentines. I walked her to the bus everyday and met her at her locker, and ran to each of her classes every hour. I gave her smiles and a hand to hold, and I sang love ballads with words just for her. I helped set up a picnic on our anniversery.
She never wanted that. She smiled, she was so, so happy, but she never wanted to be happy. She wanted to be beaten down. But she could use me for that too.
So she cheated on me when I was gone for Spring break. And agonized over it the entire time, and kept calling me, and basically ignored all my orders to calm down. She had to feel guilty. She was guilty. And she wanted to one who loved her most, who would never do a thing to her hurt, to become angry. But I wasn't angry. I realized it was a lapse in judgement, told her I forgave her, I loved her, and that we could try again.
In a week though, she couldn't take it. She told me we had to break up. She felt too guilty. I plead, but in the end, we discussed it and I told her we probably weren't ready anyway. It was too soon.
The following weeks, I was on pins and needles. How did one act when one broke up? Could I still hold her hand? Could I tell her I loved her? Turns out, after I got the courage to ask, I could do all of those things. Lips were sealed, but fingers were intertwined, and for a while I just tried to be as helpful and supportive to her as I could. And then, one day, she begged me to take her back. I had a good talk with her. I accepted her. She cheated on me with the same guy the next day, told me, and then a few days later admitted the love she felt was platonic.
And somehow, through it all, I kept loving her, and needing her, and willing to do anything for her. I think it might have scared her a bit. And for a while she was scared of me leaving her, even though we weren't dating anymore, she would freak if I said we 'were' dating, we 'had' a song, et cetera. But I wasn't there to protect her and comfort her every day, since it was summer. At first I would visit her every once in a while. Then she got a bit distant. Then she apparently got 'engaged' to her 'boyfriend' I've never heard of, that I'm pretty sure she doesn't love because she would have made a huge deal, that probably was one of the guys that knocked her up a month ago. Now she isn't answering any of my messages. I tell her we should talk, I have some doubts I want to talk to her about, I love her, I want to talk. I know she's seen them. I don't want to send any more messages in case I just scare her off.
My question I wanted to ask was, 'should I just give up?'
But I think now I know the answer. She's doing this because she knows it will hurt me. And for the first time, she's succeeding. She's breaking me down, and making me want to give up. But I love her. And even if she doesn't love me, never loved me, I am exactly what she needed since the beginning.
And I won't give up until she knows she's capable of being loved, or until I'm absolutely sure there's someone who cares about her even more than I do. She needs a friend to teach her that, and I don't think my job is done yet. I believe God brought us together so I could do this, and I'm the only one who can. That's why i went through my depression, that's why we met, that's why she, at least for a while, began to fall in love with me, and that's why I fell for her. I believe God put me through this, he made me bi, he made me depressed, and he made me love, so I could forgive her for every thing she thinks she did, and love her.
And I do. I forgive her. I love her. And I won't stop trying to teach her that, in my own way.
Life is good.

Definition of Love

It's been a while. Hi guys! I didn't forget about this place.
(Although, it's crazy, because I don't wear my ribbons anymore, after three years. It's incredible, I'm free of them. I got the courage because of my girlfriend/ex-girlfriend/I have no idea. But they're still a large part of my life, so I'm going to keep this blog the same.

Speaking of a big part of my life, love. Love is a huge part. I like to think I have a basic understanding of it. But in the midst of things, that definition gets muddled. People often think it's a lot more complicated than it really is. And that makes horrible situations like the ones I'm in with loved ones and friends. It kinda drives me insane. So to make sure I don't forget, and maybe others don't forget, I'm going to write my definition here.

Love: is a FEELING. It is not a question. It is not a commitment. It is not a promise. It is a feeling. It is kinda like happiness, or sadness, or anger, except it is tied to physical objects. which really, so is everything else.

Love is basically feeling an incredible sense of happiness when in the prescence of something/someone you love. It is absolutely nothing more than that.

Just like other emotions, it has varying depths. For example, there is platonic love. I have a dear friend who Ii can sincerely say I love. Whenever I see her, I am very happy, and she means the world to me and I'll protect her no matter what. But I want nothing to do with her romantically. That would be weird. It also isn't as intense of a love as a romantic love, but just as meaningful. Seeing her happy brings my life joy. It's just like happiness, or sadness, or anger. You may see roadkill, and it will make you sad. You see someone die, and it makes you cry, There's depression, that cripples you. Different levels, same emotion. Sometimes so radically different that it feels like different emotions, but really they're the same.

Then there's romantic love, which people tend to always think about. My example is my girlfriend. I love her to the depths of my heart, and forgive her for all she does and embrace her. Seeing her instantly brightens my day. Whenever I am with her, there is an intense happiness surrounding me. And I just want to hold her forever, and keep her around me and feeling safe, and hold her hand. It is much more intimate. (Not sexual though. Sexual attraction is still, while it can be linked, completely different).

I believe love even goes to objects, though at a much lesser extent. There can be items which, with a strong enough attraction, can be loved. That you feel the certain emotion, love, when you are around it. Love is triggered. Usually it is the most basic form of love, but it still counts. I think that's how some people actually develop a emotional attraction to inanimate objects. (sexual attraction is still a completely different story though, and has nothing to do with love).

 That is the definition, but s many people mess it up. They automatically think it is sort sort of obligation or commitment. It. Is. Not. That's what destroys people.
Just because I love someone doesn't mean they automatically have to do something for me. That's retarded. They are my feelings, and my feelings alone. So if someone doesn't reciprocate your love, why should it matter? It isn't a question. Just because seeing a certain someone makes you angry, you don't go to that person and say "I hate you! Do you hate me too?" Some people do. They feel like it means more when it is a shared feeling. It's true, this creates a certain bond. It is a good thing. But people tend to think love only exists with that bond. When someone you hate doesn't hate you back, do you say, "You know what, it isn't working, I guess I'll stop hating that guy now." No. You don't. That's stupid. You can't control who you hate. It just happens. If your hate does burn out when the other person doesn't reciprocate, that is only because you were trying to get attention, and the fabricated feeling wasn't even real in the first place.

So it really annoys me when someone is in love, and when the other person involved doesn't feel the same the original decides they are sick of being the only one feeling and they're giving up. Love doesn't work that way. So it's somehow the other person's fault because they don't have a certain happiness that you do? That's selfish. You don't say that, and give up. Love is b eing happy with someone. There are no negatives in that. Love is a blessing. Throwing that blessing away because you didn't get a special bond out of it is like throwing away the winning lottery ticket because you only got $10,000 instead of $90,000.

People are chasing a love story instead of being grateful they have a love to begin with. it's a special thing. A bond is just something that may occur from love, but isn't actual love itself. It's an addition. Separate. So when Person A is in love with Person B, but Person B doesn't love them back, person A shouldn't just throw in the towel and give up. You can't 'give up' love. It isn't a challenge. It isn't a goal. that's like giving up sadness or happiness. You just can't. They are completely out of your control. If you could throw it away, that was a fabricated love all along that you made up to make yourself feel good. That's stupid.

You can't beat yourself up because someone doesn't love you. It isn't personal. You have to think about as 'they don't have an incredible happiness whenever they see you'. It doesn't mean they don't care about you an incredible amount. Forcing obligations on them when it is your feelings and just your feelings is just hurtful and self-diestructive. If everyone just understood this, it wouldn't be so damn hard.

I have a friend who is in love with me. He has been for a number of years. I don't love him. He is one of my greatest friends in the world. He means so much to me. But it doesn't matter because somehow, because I don't have feelings for him, it is hurting him. i have no control over it, but somehow i am at fault. And I see him saying "I am sick of being the only one trying, I'm giving up, love is stupid." It kills me. It hurts me. I feel terrible. I'm sure he wants me to read it. But what the hell can I do? I can't force myself to love him. I can't stop loving the person I care about, who makes me happy. Comments like these is like saying 'you're really happy, but I'm not, so stop being happy for me'. And no one in love would say that.

Again, there's nothing I can do about the situation, But at least, I can make sure I never forget this theory, which I made years ago long before this stupid situation, and maybe I can share it so others understand. I just wish everything could be better.

Remember: love is a blessing. Love is an incredible happiness you can't find anywhere else. Love is a rarity that shouldn't be squandered, and isn't meant to cause you harm. Love is not something that you can take away, but it comes and goes as you let it, flows from person to person over time. It is one way and one way only, and even if the person loves you back, while the bond is one you share, the love is something individual, something differnt for each partner and not controlled by the other. As soon as you start connecting your love with someone else, you are blaming someone else. If you know it is your own feeling, just like your anger, your fear, your gladness, and your sadness, then you won't get hurt or angry when others don't reciprocate.

Cherish your gift and don't ruin the experience. Don't give up on love forever wen it doesn't go 'right'. Love is not a journey, but it will lead you on one, just like every other emotion.

Life is good.