Hello again.

It's been a long while, but I always intended to post here again. It seems I'm only able to write at the greatest depths of emotion, so my writing schedule tends to be erratic. 

I have another short story for you, and this one was closer to a personal experience than many others I've written in the past. For my musical muse, please click here to listen before or as you read the story.

I don't normally include so much dialogue with my short stories, but I decided to venture out of my comfort zone for this one. If you're not sure what I mean, please continue reading and let me know what you think:

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I could feel my heart about to burst. The speed and hurriedness of its pace was slowly killing me. I could feel the pulse in my neck, extending my skin, twitching with every thought that chose to enter and leave my head at that moment. Terrible thoughts. Scared and fearful thoughts. Relieved thoughts. Suicidal thoughts.

The view from the rooftop wasn't helping either.

I could feel the wind on my fingertips, now that I started perspiring so much. My breath came quickly, shallowly; almost exaggerated. The sounds of the rushing air past my ears felt like a roaring tumult of noise that threatened to crush my head, along with the hushed gasps of the crowd beneath me. The huddled couples, the silent children, the curious and opportunistic onlookers - all of them disgusted me.

There were no law enforcement officers in the area yet, though I knew that was soon to change. Already, I could see cell phones being flipped out with haste, hurried words being spoken from bumbling lips while their eyes were glued to the sight that I was before them.

My name is Emily. I don't have a last name. Soon, all I will be is a nasty memory on the ground, like a teardrop of rain that finally struck the earth as it reached its fate - and the only proof of my existence would be the small, unremarkable crater I leave behind.

No matter. I wouldn't have to worry about that. Just look down, take a deep breath, and step out. No more need to feel that pain - no more need to hide behind the facade of an established college student. No more desire to be seen, to be wedged behind societies norms, and rendered all but invisible by a cloak that seemed to lay over me, like a cold, damp towel, constantly weighing me down.

Most people don't understand what I'm about to do. I could see it in their eyes - their total incomprehension, their complete lack of competence of the plight that was me. How could they understand? If they did, they would all be up here with me to help me fall, and then join me themselves.

It isn't the pain that ends me. It isn't the fact that no one cares for me, and that no one can even see me. It doesn't matter that I'm the only life in the world, or that I'm the only one smart enough to see the things in life that others choose not to see. I'm not seeking to end my life.

Think of it this way: you probably saw people jumping to their deaths from the World Trade Centers during 9/11, yes? They would fling themselves out from forty stories high, right out the double plane glass windows, arms and legs flailing through the air fruitlessly, as if they would be able to escape the terrible danger they just willingly put themselves into.

It wasn't because they were emotionally compromised at that moment that they jumped. It was the fire behind them. The smoke that billowed out the window and over their backs as they leaned out into the open air. The instinctive, primal and terrible fear of that personal hell laughing maniacally behind them, wafting ever closer and cruelly closer, encouraging them to a slow death. The smoke wouldn't kill them, no - the open window prolonged their life long enough to avoid that. It was the sensation of burning skin, melting nails, tearing eyes and searing heat that made them jump. They would do anything in that moment to escape that fire, to escape that horrible fate - even if it meant resigning yourself to another one.

I've been living in my personal hell all my life. It ends right now. The wind whipped behind me, billowing my skirt forward. Just one more step...

I heard the roof access door burst open behind me. My eyes reflexively looked over to my right and saw a young man about my age come through. He looked unhurried, unapologetic, and unassuming.

"Emily," he said. He spoke in a very calm tone, with no sense of urgency behind it, as if he had all the time in the world. "Emily, do you remember me?"

I looked at him through my hair. I planted my feet a bit farther from each other to maintain my balance, but also ready to spring into a jump if I needed to. "Come any closer, and I'll be gone before you can say another word," I said harshly. The words came out raggedly, and my voice sounded brittle. My voice cracked, "I already know what you've come here to say, and it won't work. I've heard enough sycophantic words today."

I could see that he took the words in carefully. The young man closed the roof access door behind him. To my surprise though, he locked it and leaned against the door, his arms out at his sides. "I'm not here to stop you, Emily. In fact, I'm here to help you." He squinted at me through those dark, hazel eyes, his posture relaxed. They seemed so familiar, somehow.

A memory sparked through my head in that moment, and then I remembered his name. "Your name is Michael, and I've seen you in one of my morning classes this year. We've never spoken before and you hold no emotional weight over me. My own mother couldn't talk me down, and neither will you. I don't need your help because I can step forward just fine." I moved my feet another inch closer to the edge.

The movement didn't faze Michael at all. I was expecting some sort of reaction, but his face betrayed no emotion. In that moment, I realized how normal he looked, and also... how clean he was. Not only the way he dressed, but also in his demeanor.

"You're correct. My name is Michael, and it is nice to meet you, finally. My only regret is that we had to meet this way," he said, with a short gesture to the rooftop where we were both situated. "And you are also correct that you can step just fine on your own, and that gravity still works today."

"Then if you know what's good for me, you'll shut the fuck up and go back through that door where you came from," I said. I don't like sarcastic people.

Michael's eyes hardened a bit. "That, I cannot do. And I disagree strongly with the reasons for why you're doing this."

I laughed bitterly. What could he know? How could he exist in my mind and possibly feel the way I do?

"You'd be surprised," Michael said suddenly, immediately after the conclusion of my previous thought.

What the fuck? I blinked. "You can stop guessing what I'm thinking, Michael. I've seen enough mental skepticism to know how you would infer something from me."

He pushed his shoulders off the door, and stood straight up, with his hands open. A placating gesture. "I wasn't inferring, Emily. You've come from a bad place, and you only wish to move or be moved.

I saw him moving toward me, and my spine straightened. My pulse sped up again. "I said don't fucking come any closer." My voice shook fiercely. "I swear to God that I will jump right now, and you're going to have to live with it for the rest of your life." My hands spread out. I could feel the wind on my arms. "I don't care because I'm only going to live for another minute."

Michael didn't seem to notice anything I was doing. He took another step closer to me, very slow this time, almost so slow that I didn't notice it at first. "I am not going to try to stop you, Emily, because I believe humans ought to have the freedom of choice that God gave all things in creation. But I do want you to know that if I wanted to stop you, I could have done so already." 

My head whipped around to him, searching for something on his person that he might use to restrain me. His eyes betrayed nothing, and his clothing was scarce enough that I wouldn't think he had anything on him. He was about fifteen feet away, and even a gifted sprinter wouldn't be able to close the distance fast enough before my body would slip past the edge of the rooftop. But at the same time, he looked utterly sure of himself, as if he was stating that the sky was blue today. 

Michael, his demeanor as still as ever, gave me a knowing look. "You don't want to do this, Emily. You have too much love here that you couldn't simply leave it behind."

"Fucking love? You don't know a fucking thing about me!" I shouted back. "What the fuck would you know about my life?"

Michael spoke without hesitation. The only thing moving on his body were his lips, and his eyes pierced my own. "I know that when you woke up this morning, your first thought was about how awful it was to wake up again. How every fiber in your body told you that it didn't want to exist this day, and that you counted the hours until you would be able to sleep again." Michael's voice was unnervingly stoic. His words also struck uncomfortably close to exactly what I was feeling.

My hands shook for the first time that day. "Shut up!"

His voice was inexorable. "I know that when you look at yourself in the mirror, you don't see a life. You only see something that was meant to die, to rot in the ground. To waste away slowly, painfully, with no sense of fulfillment, righteousness or hope. Every sunset to you is your life winking itself out of existence, a lamenting thought that was invisible to begin with."

He was speaking my fucking thoughts. I could feel tears building up in the corners of my eyes, only this time it wasn't tears of frustration, but tears of renewed pain. These were memories that I didn't want to relive, memories that felt like a bright lamp in the dark that was painful to recall. "Don't make me live it again! I don't want to live! I don't know who you are or what you fucking want, but please just stop!" My voice was at a high tenor now, nearly shrieking.

Michael spoke simply. "No."

He continued. "I know that you came from an abusive family, where you plotted to run away for years. I know that your father come home drunk every night and beat you until you were nearly unconscious. You would end up with bruises up and down your ribs and arms. You would curl into a ball and hide under your bed with the lights off, sitting as still as you possibly could, hoping that maybe if he didn't hear you, he wouldn't walk in through the door."

I gasped loudly, the sudden deep breath nearly taking me off balance. White hot pain lashed through one side of my head as old scars were torn open anew. Blood spilled through every crevice of the pathetic wall I used to fortify my sanity.

"Your mother didn't even try to stop him, either. She would just watch, scared and alone like you are now, too afraid to do anything but to be still and let the gales of life blow you around until you drowned."

All of a sudden, Michael was next to me, his voice uncharacteristically sympathetic. His lips nearly touched my ear. "And now you stand here with a choice. A choice of creation, or a choice of destruction. I know that you have love in your heart Emily, for I felt it in your mind the moment I saw you. You have so many things in your life that you have yet to do, dreams to accomplish, hopes to fulfill, and memories to be grateful for."

I have no choice.

"Lies. You can change who you are. We are all bound by our choices, Emily, but we are more than our mistakes." 

I staggered under the mental burden my mind bestowed to me on that moment. I couldn't see anymore as my eyes were too swollen. My body shook constantly as I fought away the tears and emotion that threatened to take me over. I had to control this moment so that I could end this cycle...

I shouted through my fear, almost insane with desperation, "So what do I do? You tell me what to fucking do!"

Michael said, "Choose, and act."

To be continued.

My second short story. Thank you to those of you who are my regular readers. I love you guys so much, and you really inspire me to write. It really is one of my life pleasures.

This story is about two friends (young man and woman) who are departing from each other after being together all of university. They are close, but they never became an item. This story is told from the young man's perspective, and chronologically, only lasts a few minutes. The story, however, is much longer.

Please, have a listen to this song as this was my musical muse. Listen to this song before, or during your read of the following story. I hope it inspires you. If you like the story, please feel free to let me know!

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She was leaving.

It was one of those thoughts that echoed through your mind once, but resounded, and continued to bounce back and forth in your mind, showing like a bad penny, always turning up to sneer at you again. It wouldn't bother to leave, even if I asked it nicely, and every time I remembered the thought, it brought with it it's combination of self-pity, sadness, and the bitter taste of reality.

I was looking at her through the windshield of my car, which was just parked in her dirt driveway. The car engine was still ticking as it cooled down in the relatively cool spring weather, and my hands were rested on the wheel. Even though the glass was smeared with dirt, debris and other nameless spots, it didn't obscure what I was sure what I saw - a young woman, my age, resting a hand on her car, hair done in a ponytail, who also happened to be one of my closest friends. In that moment of clarity, I saw how beautiful she really was, in her heart, her mind, her free spirit, and of course, her dirty-blonde hair and blue eyes that did nothing to keep the heart still. 

She was leaving.

Her face was level, careful, and interpretative as she faced me. Was she wondering how I was feeling at the moment? Because this moment was taking forever, and time lended me a hand by slowing down.

As I stepped out of the car, I wrapped one hand around the other, awkwardly clasping them in a futile gesture to help me reduce the rampant and driving emotions I was feeling. My steps on the dirt felt long and heavy, lead weights that had a pulse from a heart that was still beating, shuffling forward gratefully but reluctantly. Grateful, because I enjoyed her presence so much, but reluctant, because I knew it would be the last time I would feel this way.

I had told her that I would come to visit her one last time before she drove back home, hours away, to a place that I didn't know. Her log cabin was a quaint and humble abode, one that didn't tell me was a rented living space, but was actually a home - a place to find solace when you're unable to find it within yourself; a place that speaks to you at it's quietest moments, comforting you to the point where you could find that temporary peace called sleep. I only wished I knew what that felt like.

My friend didn't speak more than two words to me at that moment.

"Hey," she said. There was a bit of a pause as she pierced me with those eyes. That smile.

"Hey, yourself," I returned. I decided to stuff my hands into my jean pockets to keep them from squirming. "Did you need any help packing anything else?"

She gestured toward her car, which was already packed with most of her belongings. Which actually didn't amount to much - a few bags of clothes, boxes with books, and a backpack. She was always the minimalist. "Nope, I've got everything packed already. It wasn't a lot of work." She looked down at the ground for a moment, then back up at me. She had a stillness in them, a certainty, and something else... almost an expectation. I found myself once again drawn to her presence, pulled into her free spirit by sheer emotional gravity, of which she was a planetary giant, and I, a mere orbiting satellite that occupied itself by drawing circles around it's obsession.

A memory sparked in my mind, and time slowed down again. I remembered a time when her and I were driving in my car, after an afternoon of rock climbing at the university - we were getting food at a local diner, and I wanted to take my time driving so I could keep her with me longer. I took back roads, and unnecessary turns, while accelerating slowly and easily, enjoying every moment I had with her as my co-pilot, talking the sweet words of a delightful conversation.

"So, you see," I heard myself saying to her, "The question that I was asked by someone a long time ago was, 'Who are you?' And I found that question a bit easy to answer, because we can define ourselves by many things. For example, I can say that I'm a son, I'm a sibling, I'm a researcher, I'm a friend, I'm a student, and in the future, a husband and a father."

She looked back at me, "But all those things you just said are defined by things that are part of us."

"Exactly!" I got excited again, and moved my hands as I spoke for emphasis, while keeping my eyes on the road and occasionally flicking them back to her, "These things are a part of us, but as fragile as life is, these things can be taken away. These things that I have defined myself by can be here one moment and gone the next, and in that case, who would I be, then? I certainly wouldn't be nobody - of course not. But then who would I be?"

She squinted. "I'm guessing this is where the aspect of faith and belief comes in?"

I laughed. "You know me too well. An advantage of being religious is that one is allowed to believe in something that he or she cannot see or prove empirically. You have hope against hope - ever able to move forward because you know you must. Against most people's thinking, you don't have to be religious to have faith - even atheists have faith. I can have faith in science - and even though scientific findings can be shown with data to support a theory, science can't prove anything, only show strong relationships. Gravity can be disproved tomorrow."

She chewed on that.

I continued. "Everyone has faith in something. We have to believe in something larger than ourselves, whether it be a deity, a higher intelligent being, a concept or idea, or even another person. Humans are just programmed that way - we have to be a part of something. Something that can't be taken away."

My voice got a bit lower as I spoke and I looked at her significantly, "I don't care what you believe in... just believe."

She was leaving.

I nearly gasped. I was back on her driveway, and I realized I had been staring at her eyes - but she didn't look like she noticed. It must have been for a moment, then. Somehow, I had reached out, and she had taken my hand.

She smiled, but somehow I got the sensation that she was hating the words she said, "I have to leave now." 

The words tasted like ashes in my mouth, "I know." I hesitated for a moment, and gripped her hand a bit tighter. "I'm really bad at goodbyes, and I don't care for them, but I do have one thing to ask you..."

At that moment, I thought to myself carefully. This beautiful, shining young woman was looking at her future with open eyes full of hope, opportunity and ample motivation - she was going to do well with her life. But my conflict was that I couldn't be a part of it. I couldn't tie her down to me, even though there was a selfish part of me that wanted to.

I wanted to tell her how I felt about her, about how when I first met her I had fallen in love once again, with her personality, the spotless but brutally honest soul that captured mine, drawn magnetically to hers. I wanted to tell her how I had seen her on a level that I could see just how unique she was, and how no other man could appreciate her hard work, honesty and beauty like I could - but I had ultimately decided to be a friend, the ever helpful and reliable young man, her only friend in university - and I would never do anything to compromise that and make her opinion of me change or degrade because of a selfish need.

So I would stoically withstand and deny myself, because I knew this is what friendships are about - sacrifice.

Instead, I pulled her into a long hug, and I said softly, "Just... just don't forget about me, okay? Think about me from time to time."

With her head on my shoulder, I could feel her smile; her relief was almost palpable, "Of course I will. You're a good friend, Michael."

At the sound of my name from her voice, I felt my lower lip tremble. "Yeah. I try to, anyway." My voice came out hoarse and rough, and I could feel my throat tighten a bit. She felt amazing, and she also felt like home. I took a deep breath, and I could feel her arms around my back as my chest expanded. The breath was shaky.

She broke the hug first, and she finally stepped back from me. She quickly walked to the driver side door, looking down at the ground as she did. She already knew what I knew, which was that she was crying, but was too stubborn to let me see. But my eyes did catch a glimpse of her face in the side mirror as she sat behind the wheel, and I saw tears standing in her eyes.

The sun was setting. As she pulled out of the driveway, with me standing off to one side to let her pass, she gave me one last smile, and blew the hair out of her face. I did what I always did, and that was to show her that she gave me a happiness that I was blessed to receive in the first place - even though she was leaving, what I had experienced with her was something so visceral, so earnest and true - I hadn't felt something so real in so long that it finally felt like I remembered who I was.

I'm a believer in hope.

With no particular preamble, let me begin this post by telling you a story about someone who was a close friend of mine - and to go with that, a moral of why you should appreciate your close friends while they are still alive.

Morbid sounding, I can appreciate; but it's still a valid question. The more clever of you have already deduced that this close friend of mine - Hannah - is no longer with us. She, like everyone else will inevitably, has returned to dust, but on a much earlier and unexpected note that no one could have imagined.

Hannah was my age when she died. Early twenties. One of your most memorable decades (after which, I've been told, years begin to blend together for lack of significant yearly events), and also the most deciding of your familial future. The week before she passed almost a year ago, she had been just as full of life, energy, smiles, hopes, dreams, love and personality as the next three people. She had an even friendlier social ethic than I, and in my book, that made her an extremely special person.

I met her when we were both about eighteen. What a funny time that was - (if you've been reading earlier posts on my blog, you'll appreciate that it was between Susan and my current girlfriend when I met Hannah) and we weren't quite more than friends... but pretty close. Pretty close. Like peas in a pod, kind of close. But the pods aren't quite touching. But pretty close.

When I first met Hannah, it was at church, and when our eyes connected after the service, she gave me the most infectious smile I had ever seen, and I couldn't help myself but to return the smile, awkwardly, even as I began to giggle. She tickled me just by giving me that simple and sincere look, and also because I couldn't find another word to describe the feeling she elicited in my chest other than "bubbly". 

What? It's okay for guys to be mushy, too.

Because it was so soon after having departed from Susan, I didn't want to count this as a rebound, so I didn't - I respectfully kept my distance as far as I could manage with someone as magnetically amiable as Hannah, but I can't say I didn't toe the line as close as I dared... and I dared.

I found myself going out of my way to spend more time with her - much as I did Susan - and I soon realized this as a symptom of a threatening rebound. But at the same time, I didn't feel like it was, but rather something else. I wasn't looking for someone's arms to swoon into, hands to hold or even a sympathetic ear to listen, but for the simple reason that I enjoyed her presence more than anything I've had the capacity to feel in the last six months.

You see, I had become emotionally numb after Susan; emotionally dead, a shell; a metaphorical and literary zombie, crawling and oozing my way through life because of my ability to do the motions of what I knew I was supposed to do. When I saw Hannah, though... it reminded me that I still had the ability to feel, however faint it had become. I had atrophied to a pathetic level.

I had visited her at her house several times to watch movies or to eat at the local mall and go window shopping. I'd drive my car a full hour across the state just to spend some time with her on the weekend. When we'd eat, I wouldn't be concentrating on my food - and when we watched the movie, I wouldn't bother comprehending the plot line as I'd be too busy leaning my head on her shoulder. She'd rub my head, sympathetically. She had known everything about me by that point.

I remember turning my face to look up at hers, and I noted how her cheeks made her face appear as an almost perfect oval - they swelled ever so slightly out to the sides, adding to her already pleasing amount of aesthetic curvature; but she made it classy without trying. Along with her dark eyes, garrulous hair and award-winning smile, she carried my heart, mind and soul in her hand. And for some reason, I completely trusted her with them, because I knew she would never drop them. Even though I only knew her for such a short time, there were smiles in her eyes, and she fairly glowed with happiness.

"Tread softly, because you tread on my dreams," I suddenly told her one time, quoting Yeats. We were eating carry-out in my car, near the mall, windows rolled down. Pleasant summer heat wafted in to give greetings. She almost choked on her food. At first, I thought I got her upset, but then she giggled almost maniacally, saying, "You're so gay, Josh!" Following that, I would only squint at her face, scrunching up my lips and trying my best not to laugh, feeling the relentless leaps of laughter-fairies jumping up and down in my belly, breath coming along pleasantly quick. Then I would end up laughing anyway once I realized how futile it was around her.

Hannah would see me laughing, and it only served to make her laugh harder (haw-haw-haw!), which in turn made me laugh almost ludicrously. I tried not to look like a fool while doing it, but I had a feeling she didn't care or she even thought it endearing. The laughter came out easily, naturally, escaping through short and strangled breaths as I wheezed along. She already had tears in her eyes, hastily wiping them away - and I could almost see tendrils of sensational euphoria reaching out to me from her hands, giving me a friendly hug and then moving on to someone else, as were her arms that had become suddenly outstretched to slap me on the shoulders. 

With each shake of my chest, with every delicious ache in my face that came with smiling for longer than a minute, and with each exclaimed breath of unbound gaily joy brought with it all the tension that I had been holding in my heart for the past year - all the pain, all the guilt and shame, all the raw negative emotion and suffering that had burdened me more than I thought a typical person had the ability to carry - it left me all awash in the mere ecstasy of it having been lifted; it floated up, washed away from our mouths, out the windows and into the summer air.

What replaced it was a newfound sense of certainty, and discovery; an epiphany. An emotion that I haven't felt in a very long time that, when returned, was like seeing an old friend: I knew who I was again. 

Thank you, Hannah.

P.S. A quote I thought last year, thinking of Hannah, during the days of Autumn: "Fall must be my favorite season. Something about seeing the leaves soaring to the ground. It reminds me that, even though we're pulled inevitably down, we can still fly and look amazing while doing it." 

My self-control seems to be faltering a bit more often, recently.

I want to apologize in advance. I told myself I wouldn't make this blog into a pity factory, or something of remorse, desperation or deploringly low esteem - but my inspiration has been removed, as if light and air being suddenly exposed to a vacuum, leaving me breathless, and in an area of dark. Oh well, I guess I did okay for the first three years.

I don't want to divulge anything too personal, but I will mention that I've been in a long-distance relationship for the past five years. That's right. Half a decade this June. I probably see my significant other (during university, anyway) about twice a year, for a week or so at a time. It's all we've been able to conjure up on borrowed time. 

Our relationship was built on a very strong foundation, namely faith, as we were both of the same religion and already had much in common. She was intelligent and ambitious, a geek, faithful and family-oriented, motivationally driven (sometimes, more than myself) to do well in school, curiously but pleasantly strange in her quirks, and most of all, classically beautiful in an awkward and yet elegant way.

When we met and decided, after a month, that we should date, we both understood what we were getting into, to some degree. We both understood the advantages, disadvantages, tests and trials we would endure from the yawning physical distance that would exist between us both. We both knew that we wouldn't see each other often, and those moments when we do, it would be spent a bit unnaturally, expediently, stressfully. Always on borrowed time, and it never seemed there was a moment to breathe.

It took me years to gain her parent's trust. It took me even longer still to prove that I wasn't just some guy that was fooling around with their daughter, and that I had serious and caring intent. Many mentor's in the past warned me of how I would be tried, time and time again, from the common problems that abound from separation of distance. I replied that I knew what I would face, and that in the face of anger, hostility, resentment, and evil I would laugh, and shrug them all off. And surely enough, as God as my witness, I did. 

Well, mostly. No one is perfect. We are human. We both made mistakes, but as I said before, it was expected. Even when she cheated on me, it was expected. I knew it would happen, and it was only a matter of time. I can't change the direction of fate any more than I can change the direction of waves in the ocean. I still completely accept her. When she yelled at me; when I lost patience with her; when she cried on my shoulder and I carried the burden gladly; when direction-less "friends" tried to lead us astray; when challenges of school threatened to tear us apart; false promises or threats from both our parents; other too-nosy people dropping flak directly onto our relationship; the lack of physical intimacy and fresh temptations - ALL of them I stoically withstood, unwavering, because I knew that some things were not coincidence.

But the one thing I never saw coming... the one thing I never even thought to recognize as a potential enemy and ultimately my worst fear: apathy. What do you do in a relationship when one suddenly loses all concern and care for the other?

I think I should clear this up before it gets misunderstood: she has apathy for me. I care about her more than any other single person in the world, but it seems that my love is unreciprocated. She has even admitted it herself - she does not feel for me now as she once used to. I'm not sure I believe her or not, but I've been hanging on every word that comes out of her mouth because I barely hear her voice anymore.

I have some good days and some bad days. Yesterday was definitely a bad day. I was paralyzed with fear, anger, resentment, and a deep sadness. It was mostly sadness. It was almost a physical blow - the area immediately beneath my sternum clenched and unclenched constantly, as an invisible weight pressed inward on my chest, rising up to push tears out of my eyes, making my breath short and labored. I stopped my car in a Walmart parking lot, and I cried myself to sleep that afternoon. I've never experienced pain like this before. This is new. This is different. 

It's the pain of a suddenly orphaned love.

P.S. I refuse to let this end on a negative note. I'm going to type out this paragraph, and then I'm going to pray for more patience and understanding. I have to take my own advice, and put more faith into this relationship. I have to look at myself and remember what it is that I believe in, and why I believe in it. And if this relationship isn't what God has planned for me, then it's because I have something else in store for me later on in life.

Psalms 37:4 Delight yourself in the LORD, and He will give you the desires of your heart.

My Xanga friend Normality inspired me to do this quiz thing, where I'll answer a slew of questions that I suppose would tell you more of who I am. For those interested, thank you for being so, and maybe I'll inspire someone else to take a shot at introspection!

Lets start with the personals ok?
Would you be upset if I said no?

Fess up, who was the last person you thought about kissing?
My SO. I haven't seen her since August of last year.

Who was the last person you shared a bed with?
My SO. :P Is this getting predictable yet?

Based on physical attraction, what do you prefer?
I always had a preference to the athletic/lean bodytype, deep, capturing eyes, and flowing hair.

Do you sleep in your bra? 
HOW DID YOU KNOW?

Who was the last person hugged?
I'm going to have to think about this one for a moment... oh, a friend at university!

What's the shortest guy/girl you'd date?
I suppose I'm game for any reasonable height, though height difference does factor in at some point!

How important is your partner's occupation to you?
Very much so. I would like my partner to have an occupation that reflects her ambition, dedication and commitment, as well as her intelligence. Exactly how much money it pulls in isn't as important as the amount of hard work the degree and job implies.

What color is your bra that your wearing? 
*you're

Last picture comment was on what photo?


When's the last time you showered?
This morning, same as any other day!

Favorite beauty mark?
I'm not sure if I have one!

What book are you currently reading?
I just finished Turn Coat of the Dresden Files, by Jim Butcher. I LOVE that series.

Do you floss?
Every night. I never did up until a year ago, and then decided the discipline was probably for my own good.

When's the last time you peed outside?
Hurr. When I was camping, I suppose. Which was 2 years ago. I guess I don't get out enough?

How do you feel about these questions?
They seem a wee bit perverted, but hey, whatever floats your boat.

Now for the "Have you ever's" ready?
As I'll ever be!

Ever physically fought with member of the opposite sex?
Nay. I think it's unethical to strike a woman.

Seriously fallen in love with a fictional character?
Nope!

Have you ever streaked?
No, but I have dreamed it. Does that count?

Have you ever been to jail?
If you mean as an inmate, then no.

Ever walked in on your friends having sex?
I've never had the wonderful opportunity to do the "awkward turtle".

Have you ever smoked pot?
I'm straight edge!

Ever have someone in the bathroom with you while using it?
My brothers and I are pretty close. :] So yes.

Have you ever cheated on a test?
Negatory!

Ever screamed something in public?
A friend's name when they were graduating. :] Nothing terribly exciting, though.

Ever kissed a friend's crush?
I like to think I'm above that kind of behavior.

Have you ever done something you told yourself you wouldn’t do?
Who hasn't? 

Have you ever fallen asleep on someone?
Too many times, usually on the phone.

Have you ever been cheated on?
Indeed I have. Can't say it changed my perception of her, however!

This or that!
Truly?

Eyes or Smile?
Eyes, most definitely. They can tell me so much about a person. Though a smile follows extremely close in second. 

Jack Sparrow or Will Turner?
Eeeuugh.

Easy going or up-tight?
Definitely easy going... keep my blood pressure low, please.

Sweet or sexy?
Sweet, because that's something that will continue to last irregardless of age or time. :]

Eyeliner or Mascara?
Oh look, a cat!

NY or LA?
Why New York of course. :] East Coast, ftw.

Plain or Train?
Trains have been more relaxing to me, conventionally. And I think it means "planes", right?

Night or Day?
It's hard to pass up a sensational sunrise with that special someone. :]

M&M's or Milkyway?
M&Ms all the way. The require less commitment for a minimal amount of mouth-joy.

Walmart or K-Mart?
Walmart, for sake of convenience.

Short hair or long hair?
If you mean on myself, I like my hair short. On the opposite sex though, I love long hair!

Comb or brush?
Hey, that cat's back!

Making something or buying something?
I like making presents for friends, and personalizing cards. It shows more thought and deliberate consideration!

Doberman or Mastiff?
Meow.

CD's or Radio?
Never liked the radio (save for NPR), so I'll say CDs.

iPod or CD's?
I have an FM transmitter, so definitely the iPod. :]

Tall or short?
Shorter than myself!

Hugs or kisses?
Hugs from friends, definitely a kissing embrace from you-know-who. :]

Soft and tender or strong and passionate?
I'm definitely partial to the strong and passionate. It just gets me bothered and hot.

Playing an instrument or playing a sport?
This isn't hard for me - definitely an instrument. Nothing beats improvising on the piano in the middle of an empty auditorium.

Cards or boardgames?
Cards! Egyptian Ratscrew, anyone?

Random!
Tomato monster!

How was your day overall?
Very relaxed, working on side projects. It is my day off!

Has anyone ever called cops on you?
Yes, but it was a very big misunderstanding.

Do you swallow gum when your finished?
The trash can does that for me.

How long does it take you in the shower?
On average, about ten minutes. My bathroom is pretty boring.

Ever tackled someone to the ground?
I do like playing football! Though I'm usually the one getting tackled, haha. :P

Did you climb trees when you were young?
I still do. Usually climbing rocks though, than trees.

Do you need to say something to someone?
Yeah. TIFF, YOU NEED TO CALL ME. I GOT SO MUCH CRAP IN MY BRAIN.

Ever had a best friend of the opposite sex?
Yes, and it's a wonderful thing. :]

Whats the latest you've stayed up in the past week?
Last week, 6 AM. It wasn't pretty.

Who do you miss?
My best friend-girl in Seattle, and my SO, in the mid-west.

Is there anyone who doesn't like you?
This is the worst thing I can do to someone, but I'm sure there's at least one.

Do you believe ex's can be friends?
As opposed to my usual optimism, I'd say no.

Where was the last place you fell asleep other than your bed?
On the comforter, near my computer. This thing is so darn comfortable.

Do you believe that everyone has a soul-mate?
I do. I believe that there's a plan for everyone, and that plan always includes someone who can just sing the words that are your soul.

What's your current problem?
I don't think I'm willing to divulge that here.

Do you have a crush?
Always.

What is/are your favorite color(s)?
Deep green, yellows, and black.

Have you ever found it hard to tell anyone you like them?
That was never an inhibition of mine. :P

What song(s) do you want played at your wedding?
Nandito Ako. And I would play Catching Twilight.

Do you want to get married and have a baby?
Emphatically yes!

Are you a shy person?
Used to be in high school. Now, if you're in the same room with me, you probably won't leave until you hear at least a piece of my mind. :D

Where did you just get back from?
Over there. *gestures vaguely*

What are you thinking about? 
About how much I know, and how far yet I still have to go.

Where would you like to go on a holiday?
England!

Where's the person you last kissed?
About 1000 miles and a time zone away. :(

If something was wrong, who is the first guy you would go to? 
My brothers.

Who is the first girl you would go to?
Tiff.

Do you believe that it is best to have a friendship first then love?
Of course! What other foundation would there be?

Do you care what people think about you?
If I value their opinion, then yes. If I don't value their opinion, then it wouldn't matter.

Would you rather have one love, or many short relationships?
One love. This is all a heart needs.

Is it usually easy for someone to make you smile?
I think I have a very easy smile. Just reading the question made me smile!

Do you think you've changed a lot over the past year?
More like the last two years, but indeedly so!

Is there anyone you know that deserves to get punched?
I'm not the one to judge.

Think a lot before you fall asleep?
I think I think a lot in general.

Do you miss the way things used to be?
Not really. I'm proud of where I am, and even more excited of where I will be.

Do you know what you want to be when you grow up?
Someone that's a lot like me, but better.

Do you have a member of the opposite sex you can tell everything to?
Yesh! TIFF CALL ME

Is there someone who meant a lot to you at one point, and isn't around now?
Oh, yes. May you rest in peace.

Did the last person you kiss have piercings?
On the earlobes. :P

Do you get drunk every weekend? 
I don't believe in that kind of thing. My version of hedonism is climbing a boulder or something tall.

Does the thought of being in love make you nervous? 
Not at all. It makes me feel peaceful.

What do you hear? 
The TV in the other room. My mom and dad are like two birds. :P

Who's the last person you shared food with?
My SO, but that was a while ago, wasn't it?

What do you hope for those who read this quiz?
Insight into the characteristics that are me.

Why did you take this quiz?
Let's say that I was suddenly inspired. :]