Wednesday, June 16

A new format...

So I've decided to try this one instead of xanga, because I've come to the realization that xanga doesnt do me any good. It only maintains the relationships with the people that I no longer wish to have relationships with, and since this whole journal thing was devised as a personal outlet, I'm keeping it just that-- personal.

Life is tumultuous and tiring at times, yet at other times its beautiful. Its during those times that you realize that you are truly blessed, and that you are able to learn more about yourself-- and about those around you.

I know the only person who will read this right off the bat is the person that I'm going to talk about, but nevertheless, its going to be said. And I apologize in advance for any form of "rambling" or any frantic spouts of emotion. I know that I am the etermal puzzle that is always missing at least one piece, making the picture still a bit more convaluded, but I also know that most of my goals, my intentions, my desires, are ever so clear. And I also know that you are the missing piece to my puzzle. (I could be so "Jerry Maguire" right here... the whole 'you complete me' crap... but its inferred so it doesnt have to be said. Even though I feel like you do. And I know this all comes on so strong, and I hate wincing at the thought of you reading this and shaking your head because you feel I've fallen too deep, too hard, or am too involved. But I cant help it, and I wouldnt want it any other way. But if it scares you, I'll back off)

I thought I understood what it meant to be me, what it meant to live and to love, and to be loved in return, but I soon started to understand that I couldn't be more wrong. The whole time that I thought I was loving and being loved was merely a falacy-- a curtain covering the true wizard behind it-- a mere fake. And it hurt to realize that what I thought I knew so much about, I really knew nothing about. Until I stopped and looked around, and realized that maybe I wasn't so far off. The one person who had stood by me through the tough, through the easy, and through the hectic and the sane, was the person that truly showed me what love was. My best friend. And I know that all of this sounds cheezy, and I really don't care at this point, because all I can think of right now is the one person who matters most to me. And it amazes me that it took me so long to see what was right in front of me, but I suppose it comes with me just being me. My grandpa used to tease me that I couldn't see the forrest for the trees, that I always noticed the small stuff but never saw the big picture. And I suppose thats mostly true. That I am a detail fiend, but I am completely oblivious to so many much more obvious things. And I guess thats what makes me me, and I guess thats also what helps me learn my life's lessons that just seem to increase in difficulty. But for once, something feels easy. It feels so right that I know, deep down inside of me, that it can't be wrong.

And sometimes its so hard for me to realize that something so simple, something so true can make me so completely and intensely happy. But then it makes me smile. Because for once in my life, I know what I am doing. And for once in my life, I think that my dad, my grandpa, and anyone else who ever had any meaning to me, would be proud. They would be proud that I am following my heart, and for once, my head aligns with it. Its so hard going through life wondering about the things that you'll never know, the things that you never can know. And wanting those things ever so badly. Wishing that your grandpa or your dad were there watching you, cheering from the sidelines, and there to greet you at the end with a warm smile-- regardless of the outcome, whether you win or you lose. And its even harder trying to play that same game of life, wondering if what you are doing would make them proud, whether it would make them cheer, or whether it would bring tears to their eyes because they were overwhelmed with upset. Or perhaps it would be overwhelemed with love and emotion.

And I used to dread feeling this way, simply because I feared the outcome. One of two things, is how I would see it play out: one, I'd be left behind and hurt; or two, I'd end up married and blissfully happy. Now the later certainly seems like the best of the two, but I always feared that day, and in fact, dreaded it, unlike many girls who dreamed of their wedding days filled with beautiful white dresses, elegant wedding cakes, the most hansome groom waiting for them at the end of the aisle, and an elaborate party afterwards filled with bliss and family. But I never wanted that. Nor did I ever really set my mind on getting married or being a beautiful bride. Simply because there was one hitch in the plan-- I wouldn't have my dad to walk me down the asile. And I remember sitting with my grandpa one day telling him this, that I never wanted to get married because my dad couldnt walk me down the aisle, and he told me that he would be honored to do that for me. Saddly enough, he never got the chance, simply because he too, left. Now I know my word-choice may be poor, and I understand that he certainly didnt do it on purpose, but when he died, it reaffirmed the harsh reality in my mind, that I would never get married simply because I wouldnt have my dad OR my grandpa to walk me down the aisle. So I convinced myself that I would never wed, would never have children, and then I would never be able to be that sad-- as sad as I think I might be on my wedding day (not because Im sad I'd be getting married, but because I would be missing the person I wanted there most.) But then I fell in love, and realized this time it was the real thing. Not some wishy-washy crush that would just leave me out in the cold, but the real thing. The thing you crave, that you cant get enough of. The kind of love that brings tears to your eyes when you think of it. The kind of love that I found with him. And now suddenly, my fears have started to dissipate, and I know that its right. That what I feel is how I am supposed to feel for the rest of my life. And that makes me happy. And for some reason, I'm not so scared. Yet for some reason, I still am. Completely terrified of the first outcome-- being left behind. Simply because I've felt like my entire life, I've somehow been left behind.

Now I know I've said it before but I'll say it again. Its so hard to live your life in the shaddows of the unknown, constantly wondering, and loathing the fact that when you see yourself you don't see what others do. The features, the expressions, the actions. And it hurts ever so badly to hear my mom or my family say "you look just like your dad," or "that's so something your dad would have done," or telling you stories that you never knew, simply because you were never given the chance. Yet it hurts so much more to not even be given that opportunity to know those things. To live wondering because no one will ever tell you anything, and the few things that you do know, are stretched few and far between. And it hurts. But it only makes me stronger. Simply because I must be.

In a world full of courage and fear, its much more logical to be the one with the most courage, rather than the most fear. Even though sometimes, its so much easier to be fearful than it is to be brave.

And I dont quite know where all of this stemmed from, or why I just felt the urge to write it all down, but I think it comes partially from the time of the year, and remembering my entire life celebrating Father's Day at the cemetary instead of in the living room on the couch. And I suppose its also from someone reminding me what its like to not have that stronghold in your life-- but at the same time, helping me realize that you can find a smiliar amount of strength in an entirely different entity. Both derrived from love, both from the heart, and both ever so significant.


So I'm sorry if I rambled on, and if none of this makes any sense, but it feels kind of good to let it all out. That for once, I know what I'm feeling, and I know that its right. Thanks for making it right.


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