I wish I could tell myself that I'll be fine, that life will go on, that the trial will be over soon and I'll come out entirely unscathed.

But it's really hard when I can feel my mind deteriorating. I can only play pretend for so long before I completely shut down.


Losing my mother was the last straw. Now it's only a matter of time before I admit myself into a mental hospital.



I'm praying to whatever deity will take me that the bastard just accepts the plea bargain and I don't have to see pictures of my mother covered in blood, with six gaping holes in her body. I hope nobody will ever have to see that.



My grandmother keeps telling me that I'll be fine, but I think she just says that to assuage her all-too-real fear that, in reality, I'm about as far from "fine" as it gets.

I keep thinking about how life would be if my parents had worked out their shit and stayed together. Neither of them would be dead right now, at least not under the same circumstances.


I don't know what I'm meant for in this life, but it sure as hell better be something grand to counter the shit I and my entire family have been through.



October 26th is the day of reckoning. Then it's all over.

It's become increasingly difficult to project these false feelings. Something's gotta give, though it has before.
I wasn't testing you; I meant it for real but went back on my word out of fear of isolation.



The real deal awaits five hundred miles away, in someone else's arms.

But here I am, carrying a weight that should be yours to bear. I can't wait to get rid of you.

Soon things will fall into place.

So much, and yet so little, has happened in the last few months. So much inner change, yet everything else seems to remain the same. And yet, I stay here, waiting for something.


When my father died, I wanted to do something for the people of Haiti to prevent something similar happening. The Haitian infrastructure is decayed, and in some places, nonexistent, and a cause for concern. However, at the time my father passed away in Port au Prince, I was 13 and otherwise occupied with finding myself rather than trying to figure out how to fix things in a country I'd never before heard of.


So, after my mother was killed earlier this year, it seemed as though I had been given a "second chance" to turn something so outrageously horrible into something a little less austere. This time around, I'm taking that chance.

First off, I'm hosting a domestic violence benefit show in September. The two greatest occurrences happened while I was planning this out: the date to be set is September 19, which is my father's birthday, and Saul Williams will be performing.


Yeah, that's right. Saul Williams in McAllen. September 19.







Despite all that, no matter how hard it seems I try I cannot make up for what is gone. Nothing I do, nobody I know, no matter how deeply I feel for them, makes me feel any better.



I guess it's true when they say time heals all wounds.

That, and a nice glass of wine.

There's a lot I have to do before you love me. A lot I have to do for myself, for you, for everyone.

I need to prepare myself for the catharsis that I've needed but of which I've been so afraid. I need to convince you that I AM worth it, that I WILL make your heart set fire, that I WANT you for mine more than anything else.

In you I see the salvation I never before thought I deserved. In you I see the me I want to be, and good god that scares me.


I know you will come around, I do. It's only a matter of time before you see that I can be the one to make life worth living, that I can be your muse and your light. I want nothing more than to be that for you. Seeing the smile in your eyes is more than enough gratification for me.

had the chance to say something to someone after you died, what and to whom would it be?





Mine:



Emily,

You have been the guiding light of my life. Although you are younger, I look up to you with a much admiration as I would to any hero. There is not enough love in the world to match what we have as a family, and for that I am ever proud. You have always astonished me with your grace and power of will, two traits I only see in myself when I spend time with you; perhaps it is like the moon and the sun, as if I do not really carry those gifts, but merely reflect them in your presence.
Together, we have moved mountains. There is nothing on this earth, living or otherwise, that could stop you from becoming the radiant woman you were always meant to be; even now, I see you growing, evolving, morphing into this beautiful creature who needs only to breathe to see her life unfold.
Promise me you will never compromise your true self, and I promise you my eternal and undying love and support.


Your sister,
Katrina

that everything eventually works out in the end,



it has to be the fact that I'm still alive after all.





Enough said.

Start all over again.

I'm afraid that this isn't going to last, but my biggest fear is that he feels the same. :/

That I'm moving.

Well, first off, I'm newly re-attached.

I kicked out the oft-previously mentioned roommate/faux-boyfriend and got hitched (not in the literal sense, of course) to a guy whom I've recently realized was put at the back of the list for all the wrong reasons. Let me explain:




I met Hitluh (the current boy) in October (or maybe it was September? Anyways.) over Craigslist. I tend to peruse the ads for mere entertainment, but this particular one was so articulate it promted responding. I wanted only to figure out whether this guy was seriously that smart or just being a pretentious ignoramous, not to actually develop feelings; at the time I was in no way ready for something serious in any way whatsoever.

Nevertheless, Hitluh and I got along great. We decided to meet up at my favourite coffee shop with a few friends of mine (during which time I miraculously developed a serious headcold), and all I could do was sip my hot tea and sniffle as he and my friends got along famously. I was so relieved that he wasn't a fake, and was most definitely easy on the eyes (which is like, totally, like a plus. :p).  I had to cut the "date" short because I had a bathtime date with my favourite sauna-tub-thing at Mommy's house, so I departed and promised Hitluh we'd meet again (which we did, in private, many times thereafter).

All things considered, we were freaking perfect for each other (or so everyone seemed to tell me) and I was a fucking RETARD for dropping him and dating three other guys (only one of whom wasn't an asshole) over the course of the forthcoming months.



You know those movies where it's completely obvious to everyone that the nice guy is TOTALLY the one the heroine should date/fall in love with, yet she is completely oblivious to anything other than the dickweed to whom she is currently clinging? Yeah, that's totally how I felt when I had this little revelation after giving G the heave-ho.



I never thought things would be reconciled so easily, though. After dropping Hitluh like a hat, I really felt I had no reason for forgiveness, that I was undeserving of it especially coming from him, and that I was doomed for all eternity to date and dump mindless self-indulgent (lawlz) dicks who decide to use me in any way possible.



Hitluh has taught me over the last couple months, through his seemingly endless care and chivalry, that hey, I probably don't deserve being treated like a dustmop.


So, hey, I'm not going to subject myself to such nonsense any longer.







Lovetrain, here I come. :D

So I arrived here in the El P on Friday the 13th at around 3:00 PM. It was a nice flight.

The flight from Dallas to El Paso was really, really interesting though. I was seated next to some "professional psychic" who has a talk show on some radio station in Manhattan. He was telling me about butterflies, underestimating myself, and working with disabled children.


So I've therefore decided that I'm going to get into therapeutic horsemanship. I don't exactly know what I have to do for that, but I guess I'll google the job requirements and find out.





In other news, I cannot believe how much I freaking love this place. I want to end up here, in El Paso, or near the ocean somewhere. Either way would be completely fine with me. I need a desert or the sea, nothing else.


I went to church this morning, and saw everyone I missed, and then the "lunch group" went to some Chinese restaurant whose name escapes me at the moment. Not very good food, but it was awesome talking with everyone. The minister is ridiculously funny, which makes any time spent with him enjoyable. He was the guy who did my mother's memorial service, which I greatly appreciated.



Something tells me I should go get some apple juice and smoke a cigarette.
I think I'll do that now.




ttfn.

and then I got home.


I don't know exactly what happened, or why, or how, or whatever. I just came home after getting my nails done (I took my Aunt Gail's advice, lol) at around 8 or so, and I immediately felt like crap.
Maybe thoughts of this time last year whirled around my head. Maybe it was the fact that the boy seemed either bummed or pissed (I couldn't tell the difference). Maybe I was just crashing from the lack-of-sleep high I'd felt all day.

In any case, no celebrations were had. Emmy came over and brought the cake that Charo had given me. I still haven't touched it. Honestly, don't think I ever will. I'm not really a cake person, and there's no need to celebrate. It's too late.


To sum it up: the year which I'd thought would be my best has proven otherwise.



I would count my blessings and all that jazz, but I think I would only disappoint myself.

Yes, not having a mother and not having a father are only two things, but the weight of their meaning brings down worlds.


I only wish it would have been different.

I need to regroup. To purge all I have and start anew. I need to think and meditate and not feel like I'm constantly failing. I don't remember the last thing I completely finished. I don't try anymore. I never really have.

This last year has gone by so quickly. I can't believe it.


Gregory and I were hungry, so on my way out I stopped at the mailbox and sifted through heaps of mail to find a package from my Aunt Gail.
Inside were the greatest gifts ever:
a magnet with a wonderful quote
a mixed cd with the greatest songs evah
a wonderful card (but of course)


I love my Aunt Gail. She's the greatest person ever for cheering me up. Really, it was perfect timing.



In other news, I have a lot of shit to get done today, so I've decided not to sleep. I've basically slept through the last three birthdays and I don't want to do it this time. I promised my mother today that I won't fuck around anymore; I'm going to do things right from here on out.


I feel much better. It's a huge difference from just a few hours ago.
I'm assuming I'm going to be experiencing these a lot--that's how it was after my dad died.


I'll be better though. I will be.


And I love watching him love my animals. It's the greatest thing ever.




Today's a new day! Let's see what happens.

I'm afraid I've been in this place longer than I expected to. It's not just the physical setting, but also the mental and emotional things that accompany it. I have this insatiable need to do something more with my life, and a fear that I am nowhere near anything that constitutes something "more", if "something" at all. I don't like it.


Never mind the fact that this year hasn't exactly started out the way I would have liked it to. Five years to the day I have been here, and five years to the day's worth of time wasted. I don't know what I'm doing here anymore. I don't know why i don't want to leave. I don't know anything.

I want to be happy. I want to stop worrying about petty things. I want to trust others completely, but time has made that nearly impossible.


Take my boyfriend, for instance: I know he's a good, trustworthy guy, but something in me is always paranoid that he's going to do to me what every other guy I've dated has done. Infidelity seems to coincide with my bad luck, and at every turn it is always there, staring me in the face, even when all I want to do is turn around or close my eyes. I'd rather not see it than face it. I don't want to be in that same position with this guy. I want to get this dating thing over with, I really do.

The string of events that have led me to this rut I'm in seem to have given me an inferiority complex. I do not completely trust Gregory only because I don't feel worthy of his fidelity; in other words, I don't really completely feel good enough for him to keep him with me always. I know it sounds stupid, but it's kind of a subconscious doing. 
More than anything I want to be strong, confident, able to keep someone around for more than a couple months. Many people believe that I am so already, but I have become very good over the years at putting on a facade. I find myself wanting to go back, to change things or avoid mistakes that have made me who I am. I never thought I'd be one to have so many regrets, but I don't like myself enough to think that everything I've done or experienced in the past is okay just because it's made me who I am today. 

More than anything I want a mentor. I thought I could find that in Gregory, seeing that he is 29 and that's decidedly old enough to know what's up in life. It's just that I don't feel that I can really talk to him. It's not his fault, of course; I've never been one to ask for help from someone else, much less someone I admire so highly. I want to be completely open with him, but I don't want him to have to worry about me. I don't want him to have to see that I am dying inside, near combustion with everything I've tried so hard to hold in. I don't want to be a burden to anyone anymore. I don't want to be worried about, I don't want my family to be concerned with my health, I don't want to make anyone sad or unhappy for me. I want to be okay, so badly. I want to be okay.
Everyone is worried about my sister for acting so composed when we all know she is not; but I am doing no better.


I try to surround myself with people at all times, so that maybe the fears and pain will subside, but it's times like these, when I'm alone with my thoughts, that I cannot help but hurt. I know I need to let it all out but I can't. I can't be the person you think I am anymore. I can't be happy or okay right now. It's not going to be possible for a while.


If only he knew how much I needed him. Maybe then he would take the first step.





Fuck that, if only my parents knew how much I needed them. I find myself, more often than not, crying myself to sleep, begging for some sort of sign that they're still watching me, that they still love me, that there's any hope at all. I am in no way suicidal, but I feel that the way I'm living now is pointless, and I have no motivation to change.





I miss my mother, I miss my mother, I miss my mother.