A day in the life.
There is no past tense of love.

This is such a harsh realization. I’m sitting here now in my dining room, looking at past loves. Well, just one. Where did time go? Has it really been 8 years? Where have those years gone? I’m still in the same place I was before. Still thinking of what could have been. I think I might be just a little bit crazy.

There are so many experiences I would have never experienced if not for you. My life would have been completely different. I don’t think I would’ve felt that joy, wanting, love that I did. I don’t think I would’ve survived. Because this is a cruel world, and you are the epitome of beauty. Your voice, laugh, singing, art, words, everything. I will never forget. You gave me something to believe in. You made me believe in myself.

Every single thing I do reminds me of you. It’s not like I want you to be there. It just feels like there’s a void in my life. Why are you so important to me? You introduced me to all of my favorite music. You introduced me to this thing called art. You liked that I was myself. You made me like myself. It took a long time to get you to warm up to me. And when you finally did, it was the best feeling in the world. Such a hard challenge, but so worth it. You’ve inspired me to think outside of the box. You’ve inspired me to want more. You’ve inspired me.

I never felt anything like this before, nor have I after. I’m not really sure what it is or was, but it damn sure made an impact. I know that I can never completely love someone like I was able to before. I know that I can never look at someone more adoringly. I know that I can never find anyone as attractive, smart, and beautiful. You encompass all of these traits. You made me forget every horrible thing that has ever happened. You made me feel safe. And human. I felt like I had someone that I could always depend on. Someone that I loved, and loved me back. You said you loved me unconditionally. And I know that you did. Best. Feeling.

Now I sit here, by myself. 5 years, almost 6. Thinking about the past. Just wondering what could have been. Then I realize, nothing could have been. I wasn’t who I claimed to be, and you were too good for me. Time makes things different. We move on, we forget. Why haven’t I moved on? Why haven’t I forgotten? I guess it meant more to me than it did you. Do I ever cross your mind? Do you remember our endless conversations? All of our chats? Those nights when all I would do is stay up and talk to you? Those nights where I didn’t want you to go to bed because I’d miss your voice over the phone? When I’d listen to you sleep and you crept into my dreams? Because I do. I remember it all. I shouldn’t, no. It’s not good for my heart or mind, but you stole both long ago. Now I feel like a fucking fag, and I mostly am. Holding onto memories that will never be more. Holding on to a name, a face, that I used to love. That won’t ever be the same again. Because we are ever changing, this is true. I just wish that we changed together, and not apart. Because I do miss. Everything.

Writing has always been one of my favorite things to do, but I haven’t been doing much of it lately, so I’m attempting to change that. It’s nice having somewhere to just write down all of my thoughts, especially since I have so many. I normally only write when I’m feeling down, but I want to keep a daily journal. Not quite sure why, but there’s a reason somewhere out there, I’m sure. :) All of my other journals have been mostly to entertain others, but this one is going to just be for me.

I feel super sick today. I need to remind myself to never agree to work an extra 40 hours of OT again. Like, ever. I feel like complete shit, and I want to go home. I wish I worked somewhere that was actually legit, not this hellhole that is somehow considered a real job. I guess it could be worse though. It could always be worse. I’m glad that I’ll be getting a couple of days off soon here. I’m dying to just sit at home and do absolutely nothing.

I’m moving again soon here, and I’m a little uneasy and scared about it. I love and adore where I live right now, so it’s kind of hard for me to just pack up for somewhere that’s mediocre. I don’t think it’s quite real to me yet. We haven’t even told our landlords, and I think they’re awesome, so I feel kind of bad. Last night they had their parents over, and they were singing karaoke. It was super funny, listening to them sing. It was pretty horrible, but they sounded like they were having a lot of fun, haha. :) My cousin needs a place to stay, and there’s no way he can afford it on his own, so meh. Plus, it’s probably best that I move closer to my school, so I can actually finish. I’ve been putting off for too long now, and I really want to be able to do something with my life. I’m not cool with the mundane. Hopefully we’ll be able to save money too. I don’t want to live somewhere ghetto, but I guess you can’t really be cheap and expect a view of the sound. Someday though, someday. It’s my goal to make a shitload of money and blow it all.

I need to get a lot of things done, but it never seems like there’s enough time, or money. I have to quit making excuses and just get things done. I realize this, but it’s so much easier to spend time going shopping and spending my money there. It’s instant gratification, and that’s what I live for. As horrible as that sounds.

While I was in the shower today, I thought of my mom. I always think about her at really weird times. But, it made me sad. It made me think of the last day before she passed away. When people have cancer, right before they go, they have a really good day where they’re talking, laughing, and having fun. I wasn’t there for her that day. I thought it was a day she was feeling better and was going to be on her way back home, but I was wrong. It was that good day before she passed away, and I’m kicking myself in the ass for not being there. We had a lot of family members visiting, so I thought it’d be best if I let them visit with her, and I’d just go home and catch up on a few hours of sleep and take a shower and what not. At that point, I was staying at the hospital 24/7, only leaving to get us food. I was kind of relieved that she was in such high spirits, so I thought I’d let some other family members enjoy her company for a while. I really wish I had stayed though. It was one of the last times she actually said anything to me. The last time she could really say anything at all. I told her I was going to go home and get some rest and what not, and she said, “Okay you crazy girl, see you.” “See you” was her thing. She always said that when she was leaving, or whenever someone else left. She always sounded so Asian when she said it. Whenever people say that to me, it makes me think of her. And that’s enough. Because now I’m crying like a big baby. I guess I’m not quite over her death yet.