Changed.

A dog died in my arms today.


I don't even know where to begin or if I'm even allowed to divulge such intimate details of something so personal to myself and those involved.

It started out as a normal day. Wake up at 7 am. Shower. Eat. Brush teeth. Fix hair and make up. Arrive at 8:08 am-- late because I couldn't find my keys.

8:29 am- I'm pulled out of an exam room to help a long time patient in respiratory distress. I recognize her immediately,  she has been coming here since she was a puppy.

Doctor arrives and orders radiography and immediate referral to emergency hospital.

I walk her out to see her owner. She gets so worked up that her heart and lungs give out. She becomes agonal.  Her owner asked what's wrong with her as her pet gasps and looks up into my eyes and collapses in my arms. And just like that, she's gone.

We try to resuscitate her to no avail.


I can't get that image out of my head. The image of her gazing into my eyes just before passing, as if one last cry for help.

I failed her.

I stole final moments from an owner.

I've felt death in my hands.

My heart aches for that which is left unsaid between us.

Pheromones.

The door shuts, you pass by without so much as a glance. I know exactly where you are headed.

I watch you with inconspicuous eyes as the light from the bathroom leaks through the cracked door. I hear you frantically trying to wash it from your skin, cleanse your breath of it. Almost as if you hate it's lingering scent as much as I do.

The attempt is feeble. I sometimes wonder if you know that I can still smell it on you...that it pours from you like a thick smog and it takes all I can do to conceal my inner choking.  You always seem to sense the tension afterwards, but do you really get it? The eye aversion, my way of not letting you see the concern in my eyes. The turning of my face....not from anger, but my only effort to seek untarnished air.


You are well aware of my disdain for smoking in general, but have you yet learned my repulsion of you committing the act? It's not because you are participating in something that I dislike so much...it's how it changes you. Do you even know how different you taste when you've not smoked for 48 hours? What it feels like to actually smell you. To take in your pheromones, rather than have them masked by the bitter sweet smell of  cigars. That is something you take away from me each and every time you smoke...the true smell and taste of you.

  I cannot scold you--for it is your body, not mine.  You may do with it what you may, but it is my duty as your partner to fear what is to come of it. And it is I who has to live in the smoke.

sometimes

I just don't know what to think.

I don't ever want to feel unwanted again. I don't want to fear abandonment. I don't want to go through my days thinking that people would be better ogo without me or that if I was gone it would go unnoticed.

I don't want to experience putting my whole heart into someone and my love being expendable.

I want to have value. I want to be someone's forever.

what I really need to do

I want to take in as much of this life as I can. I want to revel in every breath I take.

I want to travel. Need to travel.

I have an insatiable desire to see the world; I want to truly understand the meaning of the word vast. I need to be reminded of my own insignificance in comparison to the grandeur of our universe. I want to be cultured. I want to meet people I'll never forget. Glimpse wonders that can't be unseen.

I need to volunteer. I've found myself to be unhappy when I am uncertain in whether or not I am making a difference with someone or some place in this world. I feel unfulfilled in that aspect of my life.  I want to see people light up when they know they are about to be given the help they deserve. I need to know that I have bettered something or someone. I want to experience what it really means to be grateful.  I want to be humbled. I want to be overwhelmed in knowing that I take what I have for granted. I want to restore my selflessness.

Soon.

well,

When you put it that way it seems like time with me is of little value.  But I suppose that's the epitome of addiction, isn't it?

I love snow patrol. Every song.

Such simple lyrics, but man they can hit the spot on summing up a break up. I am not experiencing any of the feelings in this song now, but at one point in my life I could very much relate. I love that feeling when you  find a song that can bring back those emotions or you can relate to in a specific moment. Makes you feel less alone in your feelings.

I'm always the one who fucks everything up and always will be. No matter who's at fault. Me.

I just can't seem do it right. I don't know why. I guess that's okay. I'd rather take the negativity than someone else. Seems I can handle more than others. Rather me be at fault than another.

It just gets a bit overwhelming at times. Can't handle my overload of self criticism. These automatic thoughts can kill.

Can't shake this mood. It's rather annoying.

I feel like I should go outside, instead I just stare blankly at the wall hoping for a change.

What is home?

Apparently I've lost it.

Time and time again I encounter such thoughts in which I state to myself, "I want to go home." What's strange about this is that these thoughts sometimes occur when I am already home. I still live in the house I grew up in....i.e. home.

Makes me recall that scene from garden state:

"Andrew: You know that point in your life when you realize the house you grew up in isn't really your home anymore? All of a sudden even though you have some place where you put your shit, that idea of home is gone.

Sam: I still feel at home in my house.

Andrew: You'll see one day when you move out it just sort of happens one day and it's gone. You feel like you can never get it back. It's like you feel homesick for a place that doesn't even exist. Maybe it's like this rite of passage, you know. You won't ever have this feeling again until you create a new idea of home for yourself, [...]"

I feel like I've lost my sense of home since I've moved back to northern Kentucky/back to my house. My family/friends/boyfriend are still home to me but when I see refuge from any of those at a given time, I feel lost. I wonder if this is why when I drive at night (random drives to clear my head) I always end up at the same place. Maybe that's home--my dad's area. Or maybe it's just the wilderness that is home. I'm not sure...but I hope to reestablish home to myself at some point.

What bothers me most is when I knew hours before you told me.

Disdain

You wreaked of it today. At first it seemed so subtle, but then it hit me like a hand across my face. It lingers, lithed amongst your breath. I can taste it on your tongue, a flavor so thick, it's overwhelming. It seeps through your pores and taints what once was flawless with it's unmistakable musk.

Why?

I have never hated parting with someone so much as I do with him.

Never in my life have I felt such sorrow upon a happy goodbye. Normally, saying goodbye is awkward or nothing for me. I usually only get sad if it were a break up or after a fight or something. However, with him... any and every goodbye hurts.

I am not sure if I am just this attached or if it is something different. I've felt it since our second official date.

It's as if I'm having something taken from me. Like I've left something behind. My only reconciliation is knowing it is simply temporary.

Until now, I have never experienced "missing someone so much that it hurts". I thought I had... I mean I have in those who have passed on.... but not with the living.

To miss someone when they're with you...knowing at some point they must go. To hate separating so much it makes your heart ache, even to the point of years.

What does this mean? Am I broken? Dependent?  In love? Wanting something, thus I ache more over that which could have been but will never be because they're now gone? Are we Soulmates?

Maybe the latter,  if you believe in that kind of thing. Makes me think of a Nicholas Sparks quote...

"The reason it hurts so much to separate is because our souls are connected. Maybe they always have been and will be. Maybe we've lived a thousand lives before this one and in each of them we've found each other. And maybe each time, we've been forced apart for the same reasons. That means that this goodbye is both a goodbye for the past ten thousand years and a prelude to what will come."

Seems pretty fitting. Though, I am getting a little ahead of myself. I am merely just questioning why I ache so much from our goodbyes...it is so unusual for me.

I feel that parting hurts because I have never felt so comfortable with a guy. I have never opened up tonsgguy who wasn't willing to manipulate me using the newly gained knowledge. I have let my guard down in many areas that I have NEVER have before. I have a level of trust and mutual respect with him that I have been yearning for for years. He is the type of friend and lover that I have never had but always wanted. It allows me to feel a sense of completeness because I have searched so long for someone to prove to me that it is okay to just be me. No apologies needed.

So, maybe that's why. He is what I have needed for a long time and.because of that, I have been able to allow myself to experience new things. To improve myself. To help myself get back to the me in used to be. I have, for the first time ever, a partner who is supportive but also desires to know everything about me. It makes me feel significant. He has given me value that I have not felt in years.

I guess saying goodbye leaves me with the fear that my value could slip away just as easily as he does.

I'm on a blog kick.

I forgot how good this felt. Just to type my thoughts out, even if they are terribly disorganized. I have a few blogs in mind to write, things I've been wanting to write about or a bit.

Right now I don't exactly have the time to do so. Nonetheless, it's nice to be back into the blogging world.

Difficulty.

I really need to work on my ability to communicate my feelings towards other people. Specifically love.

I used to preach, and practice such, always telling others how much you love them. I try my best to SHOW others that I love them. I try to be supportive in every way that I can, to defend them, to be there when I am needed....however, saying "I love you" is quite a struggle.

It seems that this is less of a problem when it comes to telling romantic relationships, as it is to telling friends or family.

I used to never have this issue. In fact, as a child, I literally could not sleep or would have nightmares if I did not tell someone I loved them (and it be returned) before I slept. It was part of my routine, whether I was parting with a friend, ending a phone call, leaving the house or going to bed. Everyone had to know that I do not take their presence for granted--that I appreciate every moment with them, that I love them dearly.

In recent times, I am afraid to say such things or I feel awkward about it. I think this is the case because I am no longer around a lot of people who are open about expressing their feelings--at least when it comes to my friends. As far as family, I have no issue telling my dad's family members that I love them. Sometimes, if there has been a large gap in seeing them, it feels awkward but I say it nonetheless. I can't remember the last time saying "I love you" to my mom's family came with ease.

I think this started once I entered middle school. When I started to hate myself, I wouldn't convey my love because I was numb to everything and if someone told me they loved me I resented them for it. I was not worthy of love in my eyes, thanks to the many people who rammed that idea into my head. I started to drift from telling friends I loved them. My I love yous decreased with my brother because he was extremely distant. My mother would get mad when I went downstairs to say goodnight, so the "goodnight, I love you" phrases stopped. I had no support from my immediate family, therefore it felt out of place.

Since then, mom's family has grown and I see them once to twice a year--minus my grandparents or one of my aunts/uncles. No one exchanges I love yous. It is easier to tell my grandparents I love them than it is my own mom--even though I live with her. It's like an unspoken agreement.

I hear her tell her best friend, friend's kids, coworkers...that she loves them--but it is a rarity that it is ever said to me or my brother.

This is a huge problem. I know that it goes both ways....but I do find this to be a huge flaw in my character. I am going back on my word. I try to show the whole world that it is loved...but i exclude some of those close to me because of my own awkwardness and fear of it being unrequited.

That will be my goal, to tell more people I love them. Also, maybe give out more compliments...I always keep my good thoughts to myself.

Realizing I'm more closed off than I ever thought.

It's so damn hard to be vulnerable.

To seriously let you in my head. How can I allow that when the thoughts and actions I do allow to be seen or heard always cause problems? How can I portray my feelings or concerns when I can't be critical when I need to be. Why open up my mind if I can't even openly joke or if I'm expected to be happy all of the time.

It's difficult to be open with anyone. Having friends and family who expect me to be in the perfect mood all the time and if I am not then I am reprimanded for such. Having a boyfriend who doesn't expect the perfect mood all the time (which is phenomenal) but expects me to be open enough to  speak of my problems and wants me to loosen up and be goofy--but every single time I have been in an open, jokey mood--I end up crying or being hurt because I get snapped at because something I joked about sets him off unexpectedly. Makes it difficult to feel comfortable enough to have fun or to come to him if I have a problem pertaining to HIM (anything else is fine) because who knows if he will be too sensitive to it. Not to say that I don't have fun with my boyfriend--because I do. Not to say that my family is inconsiderate when I'm not happy, but it happens a lot.

I have to take precaution when I talk all of the time because of being interrupted, having no response, or being misinterpreted/offended by such. So, what can I do? Stay quiet? That is usually my go to method of dealing with such troubles. That doesn't mean that any issues at hand are not to be addressed with family, friends, or my boyfriend. I tend to stay quiet and in my head because I am finding my footing. I need to find the right words to convey my feelings over a situation or to clarify one of my actions. Sometimes, I'll figure this out days after an incident. Then I cling to those thoughts until they will be useful again in a recurring event.

You really want to know what goes on in my head? It's a damn mess. Trying to sort for the right words all of the time--both good and bad. I overwhelm myself with my emotions. I have such heightened feelings towards people, sometimes my head is just filled with the nicest things in the world about them and I won't say a single word. Why? Because I've found that people don't appreciate it at times or they don't listen. They don't grasp their own damn beauty and it frustrates me. Sometimes, it's because I'm scared to admit how much I care because allowing that to happen means I am opening up myself for potential pain. I have opened up to people in the past and had that used against me in many ways.

Occasionally, I'm in my head reminiscing about old memories. Stories I wish to tell but don't for fear that words will fall flat to the ears--lack of comprehension of the significance of the event. Other times, I spend my time contemplating things such as life, afterlife, human interaction, biological processes, wants, and fears.

More often than not, all of these are going on all at the same time. How am I to answer, "what are you thinking about?"  If I'm thinking about the complexity of apoptosis, ways to make my mom feel appreciated, the way it feels when I glimpse my boyfriend watching me from my periphery, and what I want to achieve in life.

It's a difficult task. I don't mind to let people in my head. If I did, then I'd not blog on here or on tumblr. It's a matter of whether or not it is safe for me to convey such things, if I am thinking of one specific thing verses many, and whether or not the thought I'm having is worth saying aloud.

It's something I should work on, specifically when it comes to when I am upset. I will eventually speak my mind if I don't think my feelings are negligible. It just may take time because I have to think out what I say. But, I am not going to say how I feel about something (when upset) if I don't feel that I'm going to be listened to...or if I feel that it will just make things worse--i'd rather take criticism than dish it out.

blah what a messy blog.

On the bright side, since I have met my boyfriend, I have become more apt to allow others to help me with my burdens. That's one area I am very open minded with--if I have a bad day...I let my boyfriend know and I accept whatever help he may offer. It's a nice feeling to have someone to fall back on when things become too stressful. I've been a little better with my family as well, but they often don't care to hear about my day unless I am distraught...so that area is still a work in progress.  Hopefully I can let down some guard and just completely be me...and whatever happens, happens.

As usual I have fallen out of habit of blogging once again.

I've come to realize that I only have the patience to type out my thoughts when I'm feeling significantly low or high--never the in between.

Thankfully, I'm in the latter state, high-- a high that I've not felt in about three years.

I've stumbled across a certain kind of happiness that has evaded me for many years, honestly long before my past relationships. Although I am still a very insecure person, I have come to love myself and expect the same level of respect for myself as I would expect myself to give to others. In turn, I have opened up my heart again and engaged in the dating field.

It has been a crazy. I had a lot of things happen in the past year that I hadn't expected in the slightest. I met a guy who made me feel like I had some value then turned out to be absolutely two-faced if things did not go his way--a big regret on my behalf on not cutting off that friendship sooner. I "talked" to an absolutely amazing, though often misunderstood man whom I had liked for many years. In doing so, I learned a lot about my inability to open up about things that I think people may judge me on (example: I don't drink, I am reluctant to tell people this because I am often made fun of for such). I learned that something about me is actually quite desirable.

Then among such events, I met one of the most phenomenal men I have ever been blessed enough to know and I am happy to call him my boyfriend. He never ceases to amaze me. I am in awe of his unmatched decency, kindness, intelligence, and goofy nature. I have NEVER met anyone who makes me feel like I am not alone in my way of thinking, that I am not alone in what I believe to be the right way to treat people. He and I are one in the same in that aspect. He is such a damn good person. I cannot be thankful enough for his character. If it were not for him, I would not have realized that I am more closed off to people than I thought. If not for him, I could not address some major intimacy issues that have maimed me due to events from the past. I feel a sense of completeness that I haven't felt since childhood. I can look at him and know that if I need something, he is there for me no matter what. I have security again. I feel safe with him--even if I struggle to be open or let my guard down at times.

He has his flaws, as do I, but it is something that I embrace and for the first time--ever, he is someone that actually makes an effort to address issues if we have them. That is unheard of for any relationship I've had--both long term and more casual. I do not have to earn an apology, he gives an apology when an apology is due. I no longer have to feel like I am inferior to my partner because of my gender. I don't have beg just to get his opinion on something. I don't have to try to wiggle in my wants, needs, fears, and hopes into a conversation--he asks.

It is a happiness I have not felt in a long, long time. To feel like my opinion means something. To know that my feelings actually matter. To be part of the reason why he smiles.

It's a much needed partnership. Something that I'll be grateful for whether we stay together or not, as he is both a supportive best friend and boyfriend.