*heaved sigh of relief*
Charles texted me not five minutes after I put the last post up, and came online ten minutes after that. So now I have my hair down, I'm relaxed, and I'm studying. It's so strange, you would think that I'd be incredibly distracted by the fact that Charles is finally online. Instead I'm able to concentrate better than I have all day, and I'm more focused then I was before. I've gotten used to going through the first half of my day without him around, just because he wakes up so late, but... it feels like I don't really start enjoying my day until we start texting, and I'm not really awake till we start Skyping. Like the rest of the day doesn't count, or something.
I guess that's good, in a sense. If it were that I was constantly distracted around him, and if we got married, I'd never get anything accomplished. That... I honestly don't think that'd be healthy. And there's obviously /something/ that goes on in me when he and I are together. If it steadies me, it can't be bad. In fact, it's probably very, very good. And it's good that there's such signs of balance between us. Even if I don't put much stock in predictions via horoscopes and astrology like Fio does, it's still a good way to get a read on someone's personality. If Charles is 'airy' and I'm 'earthy', that's all well and good. All I know is that he grounds me just as much as I do him.
At least, I hope I do. XD
20100502
Sunday. 2 May 2010.
I'm fretting. And no, it's not about the impending Calc final that I'm waking up at 6:30 tomorrow for. It's for Charles - something that seems to be quite common.
Normally I'd try to shake it off; Ben and Fio are commonly quite helpful in reassuring me in that regard. However, the fact that I've had two texting conversations with Char today, one at 7 in the morning after a message he sent me at 5, and then another conversation at 11 or 12 that ended quickly... He didn't fall asleep before five, and he seems to have dozed off after our conversations, but during the conversations, or at least the first, he kept on about how he wasn't fit for society, how he wishes he had been born someone different. I did my best to push him in the opposite direction, keep his mind at rest, but I'm still concerned. Very concerned.
It doesn't help that it's almost 7 and I still haven't heard from him after our noon conversation, nor does it help that Fio seemed a bit concerned about the lack of a Crumpy.
Needless to say, I haven't gotten much studying done.
It's raining out, and I'm wet from walking around in it; my hair's in a braid and bun with Char's bell on its green ribbon around it. I think I might keep this style. It's nice to have my hair off the back of my neck.
And I've also found out that one of the people working on the internship is a junior with his own apartment for him, his girlfriend, and his pet puppy, and that he'll probably be inviting the lot of us over for grill-outs often. I'm rather looking forward to that; it'll be nice to have a community like that to introduce Char to when he comes down. ...I should just stop fighting it. I'm going to babble about Charles, and there's nothing I can do to stop it. v.v
I can't wait till I get to meet him. Like face-to-face meet him. Nervous and excited, thrilled - I can feel my face flushing just imagining it. My heart's racing because I took a moment to think of how it will be like, having him standing next to me, arm around my shoulders or my waist. And I don't think I'll stop grinning for a very long time. Giddy. Joyful. Filled with laughter...
I'm considering going to the party Fio's thinking of hosting in June, but I'm not sure how it would work with my work schedule on the internship. x.x Maybe I could work more during the first few days of the week and then go during the weekend. I won't know until I get there, though. My main motivation for going would be getting the chance to be with Charles. But I'm also really eager to meet Ben and Fio.
*wrings hands* I don't know what to do now, so I'm going to try not to worry. I pray Charles is alright. I hope he managed to get a good block of sleep, though I'm beginning to doubt it. I hope he's not nauseous any more. I feel bad for attempting not to worry. And I don't know if it's foolish or not to feel that; all I know, in this case, is that fretting constantly will do nothing more then drive me into a panic, and that will lead me to do stupid things; Charles is a grown man...
This is doing nothing to help. I hope Charles finishes his part of whatever-we're-writing quickly. I can't wait to start it. It will give me something to do... Nnngh...
Normally I'd try to shake it off; Ben and Fio are commonly quite helpful in reassuring me in that regard. However, the fact that I've had two texting conversations with Char today, one at 7 in the morning after a message he sent me at 5, and then another conversation at 11 or 12 that ended quickly... He didn't fall asleep before five, and he seems to have dozed off after our conversations, but during the conversations, or at least the first, he kept on about how he wasn't fit for society, how he wishes he had been born someone different. I did my best to push him in the opposite direction, keep his mind at rest, but I'm still concerned. Very concerned.
It doesn't help that it's almost 7 and I still haven't heard from him after our noon conversation, nor does it help that Fio seemed a bit concerned about the lack of a Crumpy.
Needless to say, I haven't gotten much studying done.
It's raining out, and I'm wet from walking around in it; my hair's in a braid and bun with Char's bell on its green ribbon around it. I think I might keep this style. It's nice to have my hair off the back of my neck.
And I've also found out that one of the people working on the internship is a junior with his own apartment for him, his girlfriend, and his pet puppy, and that he'll probably be inviting the lot of us over for grill-outs often. I'm rather looking forward to that; it'll be nice to have a community like that to introduce Char to when he comes down. ...I should just stop fighting it. I'm going to babble about Charles, and there's nothing I can do to stop it. v.v
I can't wait till I get to meet him. Like face-to-face meet him. Nervous and excited, thrilled - I can feel my face flushing just imagining it. My heart's racing because I took a moment to think of how it will be like, having him standing next to me, arm around my shoulders or my waist. And I don't think I'll stop grinning for a very long time. Giddy. Joyful. Filled with laughter...
I'm considering going to the party Fio's thinking of hosting in June, but I'm not sure how it would work with my work schedule on the internship. x.x Maybe I could work more during the first few days of the week and then go during the weekend. I won't know until I get there, though. My main motivation for going would be getting the chance to be with Charles. But I'm also really eager to meet Ben and Fio.
*wrings hands* I don't know what to do now, so I'm going to try not to worry. I pray Charles is alright. I hope he managed to get a good block of sleep, though I'm beginning to doubt it. I hope he's not nauseous any more. I feel bad for attempting not to worry. And I don't know if it's foolish or not to feel that; all I know, in this case, is that fretting constantly will do nothing more then drive me into a panic, and that will lead me to do stupid things; Charles is a grown man...
This is doing nothing to help. I hope Charles finishes his part of whatever-we're-writing quickly. I can't wait to start it. It will give me something to do... Nnngh...
20100430
Friday! 30 April 2010!
I AM ON A SUGAR HIGH!
And I"m high on life and can't type fast enough to count for all this energty I get random trembling fits and it's amusing and Lizzy is laughing at me, she's one of mybuddies from PWa nd she's laughing at me but I don't care cuz I got to pet a goat today!
OH SHE WROTE BACK
she's just laughing at me some more.
Sooooooo today I organized the other interns into a war party and then Ms. Looft was like "I'm impressed by your organization and energy!" and I'm like BAH YOU CAN'T BE SERIOUS and then I was like What if what if what if? But then people started responding and they were like Awesome! and I think I might have figured out who I want my roomie to be but I don't know yet and
OH SHE WROTE BACK AGAIN
Okay I don't feel like writing any more buhbye
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~EDIT 2 MAY 2010~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Holy crap. I'm beginning to wonder if I /was/ drunk when I wrote this. I didn't know I hadn't made any sense at all. *is caught between cracking up and signing myself up for an asylum...*
And I"m high on life and can't type fast enough to count for all this energty I get random trembling fits and it's amusing and Lizzy is laughing at me, she's one of mybuddies from PWa nd she's laughing at me but I don't care cuz I got to pet a goat today!
OH SHE WROTE BACK
she's just laughing at me some more.
Sooooooo today I organized the other interns into a war party and then Ms. Looft was like "I'm impressed by your organization and energy!" and I'm like BAH YOU CAN'T BE SERIOUS and then I was like What if what if what if? But then people started responding and they were like Awesome! and I think I might have figured out who I want my roomie to be but I don't know yet and
OH SHE WROTE BACK AGAIN
Okay I don't feel like writing any more buhbye
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~EDIT 2 MAY 2010~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Holy crap. I'm beginning to wonder if I /was/ drunk when I wrote this. I didn't know I hadn't made any sense at all. *is caught between cracking up and signing myself up for an asylum...*
20100429
Thursday. 29 April 2010. Part II.
You are the partner in this duet.
You have played longer then I have; you have the ability that comes from years of practice and experience. I am new, but I have raw talent for the shaping, and a sense for the music.
When we both pick up our instruments, you ask me to count off, and I look to you to make sure the tempo is right before I start. You know the gesture I use the beat before, and we come in together.
Sometimes one of us goes too quickly or slows down, but the other will be consistent there, to reign the other in or tug them ahead. I'll adjust to your pitch, you'll lead the volume, and we'll both follow the flow of the music.
Harmony or melody, we both love what we play. The beauty of song soars in both of us; we acknowledge the skill of our partner, and our own skill, but for the moment only the notes on the page and the sound of beautiful notes vibrating through the instrument matter. The melody shifts between us, each changing it slightly but always a form of the original. And the harmony supports whoever plays the melody, blending and caressing and complimenting the theme, making something good by itself become something wonderful, something alive.
Together, you and I play a duet. It is an old song, with a theme even older; it is a variation on music that many people scorn, but that even the best are lulled by. Together, we play a duet, and it is called Love.
You have played longer then I have; you have the ability that comes from years of practice and experience. I am new, but I have raw talent for the shaping, and a sense for the music.
When we both pick up our instruments, you ask me to count off, and I look to you to make sure the tempo is right before I start. You know the gesture I use the beat before, and we come in together.
Sometimes one of us goes too quickly or slows down, but the other will be consistent there, to reign the other in or tug them ahead. I'll adjust to your pitch, you'll lead the volume, and we'll both follow the flow of the music.
Harmony or melody, we both love what we play. The beauty of song soars in both of us; we acknowledge the skill of our partner, and our own skill, but for the moment only the notes on the page and the sound of beautiful notes vibrating through the instrument matter. The melody shifts between us, each changing it slightly but always a form of the original. And the harmony supports whoever plays the melody, blending and caressing and complimenting the theme, making something good by itself become something wonderful, something alive.
Together, you and I play a duet. It is an old song, with a theme even older; it is a variation on music that many people scorn, but that even the best are lulled by. Together, we play a duet, and it is called Love.
Thursday. 29 April 2010.
I can tell you now, I won't have the time or energy to write a blog-post later, and I want to get back into the habit, so I'll write now.
Just glanced out the window - I'm very, very glad I got my sunmassage earlier, since it's all grey skies now. Spent about a half hour just lying on the grass in the amphitheater, napping very, very lightly (lightly enough not to really be considered napping), watched birds, read a little bit. Mainly just gave myself time to soak up the sun and the grass and the sounds without worrying or stressing. It was very soothing, and very healing. Although the stress is returning again, what with lab reports and a presentation + skit + another presentation in Arabic... I'm braced and ready. Things will go alright, and if they don't... I'd rather be healthy then have good grades, although if I can have both, that'd be great.
My presentation is on Islamic arms and armor. Just a quick thing, thrown together... but I'm mighty pleased with it. :3
And I'm really REALLY looking forward to this writing thing with Charles. I can't wait to figure out what kind of character I want, write her out, have her interact with his, see what he'll think up and respond to it. If we really do get to the point where we can publish or go semi-official, I will be overjoyed to the point of my pleasure being orgasmic. But even if we just end up screwing around, I'll still be very, very, very happy. Thinking about it even distracted me enough during my shower, so I didn't get all sad and depressed!
And plus, my DA account has 80 profile views. I can't wait to get this... I guess it's a zendoodle on there. Actually, I haven't looked at it yet today. Things that I think are good when I draw them at night usually look like crap in the morning. *checks*
Huh. Actually looks kinda neat. *goes to fiddle with it some more and posts in the process*
Just glanced out the window - I'm very, very glad I got my sunmassage earlier, since it's all grey skies now. Spent about a half hour just lying on the grass in the amphitheater, napping very, very lightly (lightly enough not to really be considered napping), watched birds, read a little bit. Mainly just gave myself time to soak up the sun and the grass and the sounds without worrying or stressing. It was very soothing, and very healing. Although the stress is returning again, what with lab reports and a presentation + skit + another presentation in Arabic... I'm braced and ready. Things will go alright, and if they don't... I'd rather be healthy then have good grades, although if I can have both, that'd be great.
My presentation is on Islamic arms and armor. Just a quick thing, thrown together... but I'm mighty pleased with it. :3
And I'm really REALLY looking forward to this writing thing with Charles. I can't wait to figure out what kind of character I want, write her out, have her interact with his, see what he'll think up and respond to it. If we really do get to the point where we can publish or go semi-official, I will be overjoyed to the point of my pleasure being orgasmic. But even if we just end up screwing around, I'll still be very, very, very happy. Thinking about it even distracted me enough during my shower, so I didn't get all sad and depressed!
And plus, my DA account has 80 profile views. I can't wait to get this... I guess it's a zendoodle on there. Actually, I haven't looked at it yet today. Things that I think are good when I draw them at night usually look like crap in the morning. *checks*
Huh. Actually looks kinda neat. *goes to fiddle with it some more and posts in the process*
20100428
Wednesday. 28 April 2010.
So much time has passed since I last posted, and yet so little. The dates on my posts tell me that less then ten days have gone by. I feel at least a month older. Perhaps it's only my exhaustion, bone-deep from want of sleep, want of mental resources, want of emotional power. I feel myself giving out, but I can't bring myself to be concerned.
I got this message via Facebook from deacon Hurst, whom I contacted a little less than a week ago. We've been exchanging words at a relatively slow pace, but I appreciate the amount of thought he's putting into his thoughts and opinions.
"Sounds like you are getting to the root of some of the issues and I am glad for that. I am here to help however I can, although you won't always like what I have to say (noone ever does...haha). Just a couple of thoughts to chew on. Your Mom and Stepdad know you better than anyone else. I know we always believe the 'true love' of our life knows us best, but that is not true until many years of marriage/relationship build that knowledge. Your parents are concerned. You seem to be making some choices that are out of character then asking for advice and not necessarily listening to those who know you best. I think this might be part of the issue with not being able to talk things over with your Mom. She sees that something just is not sitting right-I think this is all related to the depression/psychological concerns you shared in the last email- and she is concerned that you are making choices when your 'choice barometer' may be of whack. Frankly, I share similar concerns. Please follow through with your thoughts and see a counselor-I'd suggest a Christian counsellor. I thnk this will help you step back a bit and view the situation from a distance. I do wish to continue this conversation as well, I will continue to write a little at a time, but would like to have some facetime as well."
Do mom and Pa really know me that well? They see my outside habits, but is it vain of me to say that they have proved to know less than they think about my internal workings? The fact that my parents think I don't listen to them, especially after I seek advice, proves that. Charles can attest to the amount of time I spend mulling over what they say, even if I don't go along and do what they suggest all the time. It's a gaping wound, one that's been growing, a small cut that's scabbed over and been pulled open again so many times that it grows larger instead of shrinking. And (this is something I've known for quite a while) mom gets very, very defensive if I say anything that comes within two miles of something that can be vaguely considered a personal attack. How do I confront that? How do I prompt healing of this wound?
I talked to Tiara earlier today about all of this. I was... upset, to say the least. About the fact that, out of the two options I've been given, I'm going to hurt someone I love. Because I do love mom. She's my mother; of course I love her. My family on one side, Charles on another, but from what Tiara told me, and from what I can tell, this choice is the best. When I have no sure-fire, obvious solution, it becomes a matter of me doing what's best for them, or me doing what's best for me.
One of mom and Pa's old arguments against Charles was from a mis-speaking on my part; I thought it unwise to tell them that I was up till 3 (a fact that I let slip) because he had told me his feelings for me were far more than friendship; instead I told them that I was helping him work through a few problems. Which, in a sense, was true. But they were saying "A thirty year old man shouldn't be asking for mental help from an eighteen year old girl! He's obviously got problems." I couldn't go back and fix what I said, later - the damage had already been done.
I find it ironic now, that Charles has helped me with so many problems in the last few months, the more recent ones things that mom and Pa have no clue about, or know very little. I doubt they know the full extent of how much this has effected me. I can imagine going home and just going into my room for quite a while, catching up on sleep and private time, and mom and Pa giving me strange, offended looks at the dinner table. If I try to explain how exhausted I am, mom will most likely say something along the lines of "You're younger than us and we do more in a day than you do, you're being a fool for whining," not realizing that I speak of mental and emotional exhaustion as well.
I have half a mind to just let a breakdown happen in the middle of the living room, including the still-existent, if not subtle, fears of Pa. Actually express myself, show the bit of temper that has only flashed all of twice in front of them. It would be unwise, and would probably accomplish nothing then making me go back to my room in embarrassment after I have been told in no uncertain terms that I'm only exaggerating, implying that I've been thinking way too much and digging too deeply into the simple fact that they only love me and want the best for me.
*sighs and removes glasses, rubbing at my eyes* I'm on my way to doubling my dosage of meds - my old counselor and my old psych doctor both told me that I'm introspective and self-knowledgeable (not in those words, of course) enough to be able to increase or decrease my dosage as I see fit. Night-terrors and terrors that come when my mind and hands aren't occupied; a strange fascination with daydreaming about incredibly violent and morbid things like having to deal with the fact that my house blew up while I was at a friends' and my entire family died and I saw the corpses - what's really bad about that is that I get some sort of strange pleasure from it... somehow I've never questioned that. I always assumed it was just a need for attention, so I made up scenarios where I'd have attention... but... it makes no sense, now that I think of it like that. And that points to some sort of weird desire to... punish myself? Throw myself into grief? I don't know.
I doubt myself and my decisions and my thoughts all the time; I don't trust myself, which I think is good, because... I'm not trustworthy? I can't tell if that's bad or good, healthy or unhealthy. Only today did I realize that it might not be as alright as I thought it was to be able to switch out of depressed moods very quickly if I was required in a social setting. Just because I didn't feel sad didn't mean that the emotion was gone. Does it? Again, I'm not sure. I can honestly say that once I've cried and released the swell of emotion, I can start laughing again within two seconds if I'm in a social setting. And the laugh turns genuine very quickly. Like... within ten seconds quickly. So, looking at it like that, I can go from crying sincerely to laughing sincerely in the space of about 15 or 20 seconds, depending on the mood.
Mom sees that and assumes I'm over the emotion. It's what I assume, too. But if the emotion is done and over with that quickly, when it was enough to make me cry... something doesn't seem to line up.
It's all assumptions. Those are just some of the thoughts. I got two reference books from the library today, one an encyclopedia of children/adolescent psychology, one on adult psychology. They're both kinda old, but... I just really want to look into this. Because if any of these are severe signs of something that only Charles has been able to pick out (not even a psych doc, not even myself)... I want to get it solved and be back on my feet as soon as possible.
Lord God, help me through this. You made me like this for a reason. But you have plans for me, too, plans for a future, plans for hope. Those words have gotten me through rough times in the past. Speak through them once more. Show me hope again. Show me faith again, give me the strength I need to get through this. I see your hand in it already, however faint the traces. You know my agony, just as you know my joy, just as you know my mind and heart. I have no words, only need, only thanks.
If it's your will, work another miracle tonight. Another one of those small miracles, a bit of healing where no prompt was given, a bit of hope in an otherwise bleak outlook. You gave me strength enough to keep fighting and to keep holding on with just a glimpse of light ahead; have asked you to light a candle-flame and seen you light a beacon.
Work miracles, Father, as you have done so many times before, for so many thousands of years. Amen.
I got this message via Facebook from deacon Hurst, whom I contacted a little less than a week ago. We've been exchanging words at a relatively slow pace, but I appreciate the amount of thought he's putting into his thoughts and opinions.
"Sounds like you are getting to the root of some of the issues and I am glad for that. I am here to help however I can, although you won't always like what I have to say (noone ever does...haha). Just a couple of thoughts to chew on. Your Mom and Stepdad know you better than anyone else. I know we always believe the 'true love' of our life knows us best, but that is not true until many years of marriage/relationship build that knowledge. Your parents are concerned. You seem to be making some choices that are out of character then asking for advice and not necessarily listening to those who know you best. I think this might be part of the issue with not being able to talk things over with your Mom. She sees that something just is not sitting right-I think this is all related to the depression/psychological concerns you shared in the last email- and she is concerned that you are making choices when your 'choice barometer' may be of whack. Frankly, I share similar concerns. Please follow through with your thoughts and see a counselor-I'd suggest a Christian counsellor. I thnk this will help you step back a bit and view the situation from a distance. I do wish to continue this conversation as well, I will continue to write a little at a time, but would like to have some facetime as well."
Do mom and Pa really know me that well? They see my outside habits, but is it vain of me to say that they have proved to know less than they think about my internal workings? The fact that my parents think I don't listen to them, especially after I seek advice, proves that. Charles can attest to the amount of time I spend mulling over what they say, even if I don't go along and do what they suggest all the time. It's a gaping wound, one that's been growing, a small cut that's scabbed over and been pulled open again so many times that it grows larger instead of shrinking. And (this is something I've known for quite a while) mom gets very, very defensive if I say anything that comes within two miles of something that can be vaguely considered a personal attack. How do I confront that? How do I prompt healing of this wound?
I talked to Tiara earlier today about all of this. I was... upset, to say the least. About the fact that, out of the two options I've been given, I'm going to hurt someone I love. Because I do love mom. She's my mother; of course I love her. My family on one side, Charles on another, but from what Tiara told me, and from what I can tell, this choice is the best. When I have no sure-fire, obvious solution, it becomes a matter of me doing what's best for them, or me doing what's best for me.
One of mom and Pa's old arguments against Charles was from a mis-speaking on my part; I thought it unwise to tell them that I was up till 3 (a fact that I let slip) because he had told me his feelings for me were far more than friendship; instead I told them that I was helping him work through a few problems. Which, in a sense, was true. But they were saying "A thirty year old man shouldn't be asking for mental help from an eighteen year old girl! He's obviously got problems." I couldn't go back and fix what I said, later - the damage had already been done.
I find it ironic now, that Charles has helped me with so many problems in the last few months, the more recent ones things that mom and Pa have no clue about, or know very little. I doubt they know the full extent of how much this has effected me. I can imagine going home and just going into my room for quite a while, catching up on sleep and private time, and mom and Pa giving me strange, offended looks at the dinner table. If I try to explain how exhausted I am, mom will most likely say something along the lines of "You're younger than us and we do more in a day than you do, you're being a fool for whining," not realizing that I speak of mental and emotional exhaustion as well.
I have half a mind to just let a breakdown happen in the middle of the living room, including the still-existent, if not subtle, fears of Pa. Actually express myself, show the bit of temper that has only flashed all of twice in front of them. It would be unwise, and would probably accomplish nothing then making me go back to my room in embarrassment after I have been told in no uncertain terms that I'm only exaggerating, implying that I've been thinking way too much and digging too deeply into the simple fact that they only love me and want the best for me.
*sighs and removes glasses, rubbing at my eyes* I'm on my way to doubling my dosage of meds - my old counselor and my old psych doctor both told me that I'm introspective and self-knowledgeable (not in those words, of course) enough to be able to increase or decrease my dosage as I see fit. Night-terrors and terrors that come when my mind and hands aren't occupied; a strange fascination with daydreaming about incredibly violent and morbid things like having to deal with the fact that my house blew up while I was at a friends' and my entire family died and I saw the corpses - what's really bad about that is that I get some sort of strange pleasure from it... somehow I've never questioned that. I always assumed it was just a need for attention, so I made up scenarios where I'd have attention... but... it makes no sense, now that I think of it like that. And that points to some sort of weird desire to... punish myself? Throw myself into grief? I don't know.
I doubt myself and my decisions and my thoughts all the time; I don't trust myself, which I think is good, because... I'm not trustworthy? I can't tell if that's bad or good, healthy or unhealthy. Only today did I realize that it might not be as alright as I thought it was to be able to switch out of depressed moods very quickly if I was required in a social setting. Just because I didn't feel sad didn't mean that the emotion was gone. Does it? Again, I'm not sure. I can honestly say that once I've cried and released the swell of emotion, I can start laughing again within two seconds if I'm in a social setting. And the laugh turns genuine very quickly. Like... within ten seconds quickly. So, looking at it like that, I can go from crying sincerely to laughing sincerely in the space of about 15 or 20 seconds, depending on the mood.
Mom sees that and assumes I'm over the emotion. It's what I assume, too. But if the emotion is done and over with that quickly, when it was enough to make me cry... something doesn't seem to line up.
It's all assumptions. Those are just some of the thoughts. I got two reference books from the library today, one an encyclopedia of children/adolescent psychology, one on adult psychology. They're both kinda old, but... I just really want to look into this. Because if any of these are severe signs of something that only Charles has been able to pick out (not even a psych doc, not even myself)... I want to get it solved and be back on my feet as soon as possible.
Lord God, help me through this. You made me like this for a reason. But you have plans for me, too, plans for a future, plans for hope. Those words have gotten me through rough times in the past. Speak through them once more. Show me hope again. Show me faith again, give me the strength I need to get through this. I see your hand in it already, however faint the traces. You know my agony, just as you know my joy, just as you know my mind and heart. I have no words, only need, only thanks.
If it's your will, work another miracle tonight. Another one of those small miracles, a bit of healing where no prompt was given, a bit of hope in an otherwise bleak outlook. You gave me strength enough to keep fighting and to keep holding on with just a glimpse of light ahead; have asked you to light a candle-flame and seen you light a beacon.
Work miracles, Father, as you have done so many times before, for so many thousands of years. Amen.
20100419
Monday. 19 April 2010.
Hoooooly crap. It's been what, two days since I updated? Three? This is bad. But, honestly, I kind of view the Charles-chats where we're on Skype for hours as my journal time. Strange? Yes. Disliked? Not in the slightest.
Anyway. I'm in ChemE Comp right now, listening to a process for finding the number of degrees of freedom. I'm not sure what that means. Like... oh. I think it has something to do with the number of variables you have to solve for as opposed to the number of equations you have to solve them. Actually vaguely interesting. Matt just walked in, five minutes late. Poor kid.
Wait, overspecified is bad? No solution exists?? ...oh. There are too many specifications. That would be why. Whoops. I think I might just get a PhD in chemical engineering; I don't want to deal with all that factory junk. Just wanna research. I don't know. This summer should be very telling.
Urk. My left hand hurts. A lot. Like... pinky finger is feeling numb a lot. I think that might be bad. >_<
Haha. "That's when we get spontaneous unintentional disassembly of your reaction equipment." [long pause, I'm the only one chuckling] "That's a euphemism for explosions." This professor is awesome. Yaaaaay reaction rates that suddenly spike when you only have the lower rate planned for...
It's so strange, looking at it. The two guys I've dated before Charles have been brilliant with math, and honestly that chafed me a bit - I may not like the subject, but it felt like I had to work at it until I was /as/ good as them. With Charles it's different - yeah, in the sciences I'm beyond him. But holycrap he's further along in English. I worry that having a girlfriend who constantly rambles off into these rants about science chafes him. I worry a lot. But for myself - it just makes things that much more comfortable. Is that selfish? Egotistical?
Hand is less numb. I think it has something to do with typing. I'll just keep with this in short bursts. X3
Ten minutes left in class. This is supposed to be a work-on-the-problems-we-give-you kind of class. Our professor is lecturing us on things we're not supposed to learn till next year. Lordie. Oh man. We're actually doing something hands-on. This is so strange...
In a completely unrelated manner, I screwed around with my hair last night before I went to bed, and will probably fiddle with it once I buy bagels and cream cheese for food. Actually used the styling gel that I've had in my cabinet for... a good four months, I'd say. And some sort of shine thing. Should be interesting. Very, very interesting.
Our professor gave us three minutes to figure out how to do something and submit it. I have no idea how to approach the problem. Sometimes I really wish I was majoring in something less science-y and less frustrating. But that's the price I pay for wanting to do something world-altering with my life. I'm so idealistic it's painful. But my hopes will come crashing down soon enough, I suppose. Might as well enjoy it while I can.
Anyway. I'm in ChemE Comp right now, listening to a process for finding the number of degrees of freedom. I'm not sure what that means. Like... oh. I think it has something to do with the number of variables you have to solve for as opposed to the number of equations you have to solve them. Actually vaguely interesting. Matt just walked in, five minutes late. Poor kid.
Wait, overspecified is bad? No solution exists?? ...oh. There are too many specifications. That would be why. Whoops. I think I might just get a PhD in chemical engineering; I don't want to deal with all that factory junk. Just wanna research. I don't know. This summer should be very telling.
Urk. My left hand hurts. A lot. Like... pinky finger is feeling numb a lot. I think that might be bad. >_<
Haha. "That's when we get spontaneous unintentional disassembly of your reaction equipment." [long pause, I'm the only one chuckling] "That's a euphemism for explosions." This professor is awesome. Yaaaaay reaction rates that suddenly spike when you only have the lower rate planned for...
It's so strange, looking at it. The two guys I've dated before Charles have been brilliant with math, and honestly that chafed me a bit - I may not like the subject, but it felt like I had to work at it until I was /as/ good as them. With Charles it's different - yeah, in the sciences I'm beyond him. But holycrap he's further along in English. I worry that having a girlfriend who constantly rambles off into these rants about science chafes him. I worry a lot. But for myself - it just makes things that much more comfortable. Is that selfish? Egotistical?
Hand is less numb. I think it has something to do with typing. I'll just keep with this in short bursts. X3
Ten minutes left in class. This is supposed to be a work-on-the-problems-we-give-you kind of class. Our professor is lecturing us on things we're not supposed to learn till next year. Lordie. Oh man. We're actually doing something hands-on. This is so strange...
In a completely unrelated manner, I screwed around with my hair last night before I went to bed, and will probably fiddle with it once I buy bagels and cream cheese for food. Actually used the styling gel that I've had in my cabinet for... a good four months, I'd say. And some sort of shine thing. Should be interesting. Very, very interesting.
Our professor gave us three minutes to figure out how to do something and submit it. I have no idea how to approach the problem. Sometimes I really wish I was majoring in something less science-y and less frustrating. But that's the price I pay for wanting to do something world-altering with my life. I'm so idealistic it's painful. But my hopes will come crashing down soon enough, I suppose. Might as well enjoy it while I can.
20100416
Friday. 16 April 2010.
Alright, I'm giving up calling today yesterday, because it's one in the morning. I just... wanted to jot down Charles' dream. I feel like an ass for it, but I honestly felt a bit inspired by it. Maybe I'll be able to look into things later. If not, eh.
Charles writing a horror-thriller story. Characters are not real people (not based on people IRL) but associated by the mind with real people that he loves. Unable to not write the story; kills everyone he loves, ending with Fio, then with me. Freaking out very badly when he offs Fio, in blind panic by the time he reaches me, writes it, pen drops from his hand the moment after. Wakes up screaming and panicked.
I thought I was the only one who had dreams like that. I don't blame him for being so freaked for so long afterward.
Talked with Ben and Fio a lot today, it was quite fun. Learned some stuff about the SCA, and geeked with Mike about relative realities and perceived time. Brain hurts. Sleep. Calc tomorrow. Ew. Numbers and not series though. Arcs. I like those better than series. Good night internet.
Charles writing a horror-thriller story. Characters are not real people (not based on people IRL) but associated by the mind with real people that he loves. Unable to not write the story; kills everyone he loves, ending with Fio, then with me. Freaking out very badly when he offs Fio, in blind panic by the time he reaches me, writes it, pen drops from his hand the moment after. Wakes up screaming and panicked.
I thought I was the only one who had dreams like that. I don't blame him for being so freaked for so long afterward.
Talked with Ben and Fio a lot today, it was quite fun. Learned some stuff about the SCA, and geeked with Mike about relative realities and perceived time. Brain hurts. Sleep. Calc tomorrow. Ew. Numbers and not series though. Arcs. I like those better than series. Good night internet.
20100415
Thursday. 15 April 2010.
Areughpaft. *flops*
I hope Charles decides to go to school today. That would be swell.
Lesse. Words. Oh. Okay. I'm so, so, so incredibly glad that I woke up at 5:45 this morning to check my phone. I wish it had been about twenty minutes earlier... That panic you feel after a nightmare, when you're not sure if the people in it are alive or dead, and you're in a half-asleep, half-terrified state so that even if you're telling yourself they're alive it doesn't do anything... Yeah, I know how that is. x.x Thankfully he calmed down enough to go to sleep, because his responses got further and further apart until there wasn't one. I'm glad. So, so glad. I was close to attempting to rip a hole in the fabric of space itself to get to him, which probably wouldn't have been very good for the rest of the world.
Which reminds me. On the way back from lunch -
Damn ice cream truck is getting really annoying.
- I remembered how I had told Char a while back that I thought people looked their best while they were sleeping, or right after they woke up. I didn't remember if I explained any further, but I remember him being confused, so I'll explain now. I don't mean beautiful as in 'OMGEE THEY'RE GONNA BE ON A MAGAZINE COVER 8D'... I mean it more along the lines of inner beauty.
Like... I believe that there is something beautiful about every person, something in their core that shines brightly. But it's covered with layers and layers of filth that make it difficult to see. When someone's sleeping, it's like digging through a small part of the dirt to see the beauty underneath. There's no masks, no fears, no pains. The person you see asleep on the bed is the person when they're not trying to be someone else; it's who they are, pure and honest and simple. It seems like you could learn so much about a person by watching them as they sleep, studying their face, their expression, the way they move slightly, the way they breathe... I know I sound like a creeper saying all of this. But yeah. I seriously will, if able to do so unobserved, watch someone as they sleep. For a good, long while. Just entranced with the person I'm seeing, trying to paint them in a good light.
Yay idealism. *waves little flag*
***time lapse!***
It's 1:30, almost 2, and still no word from Charles (that's his time, not mine). I have to admit to a bit of worry. Trying to tell myself that it's nothing, that he's just sleeping late or forgot his phone (which he's done before). So I'm not gonna freak until later. I don't know how much later is later, tho. Ah well.
So I just got out of the shower (what the heck is up with my habits lately? I've been showering in the middle of the afternoon for a few days now!?!!) and while I was in it, my mind was wandering to different scenarios of how this weekend might go. Gonna ask mom if she wants me home this weekend since it's my birthday and everything. Which means no Skyping, most likely, and most likely very awkward meals... but for some odd reason, my mind was bringing up a really hopeful scenario.
AKA mom and pa actually decide to sit down and talk about all this in a non-confrontational manner, and maybe encourage me to skype Charles as well, and they not only admit to his presence, but also don't disown me and after a lot of talk, agree to give it time before they give any more judgment.
I particularly like the part where mom is shocked by what Jen did. But that's probably just my tiny vindictive side talking. So I'll hush it now.
Charles... where are you?!??!
I hope Charles decides to go to school today. That would be swell.
Lesse. Words. Oh. Okay. I'm so, so, so incredibly glad that I woke up at 5:45 this morning to check my phone. I wish it had been about twenty minutes earlier... That panic you feel after a nightmare, when you're not sure if the people in it are alive or dead, and you're in a half-asleep, half-terrified state so that even if you're telling yourself they're alive it doesn't do anything... Yeah, I know how that is. x.x Thankfully he calmed down enough to go to sleep, because his responses got further and further apart until there wasn't one. I'm glad. So, so glad. I was close to attempting to rip a hole in the fabric of space itself to get to him, which probably wouldn't have been very good for the rest of the world.
Which reminds me. On the way back from lunch -
Damn ice cream truck is getting really annoying.
- I remembered how I had told Char a while back that I thought people looked their best while they were sleeping, or right after they woke up. I didn't remember if I explained any further, but I remember him being confused, so I'll explain now. I don't mean beautiful as in 'OMGEE THEY'RE GONNA BE ON A MAGAZINE COVER 8D'... I mean it more along the lines of inner beauty.
Like... I believe that there is something beautiful about every person, something in their core that shines brightly. But it's covered with layers and layers of filth that make it difficult to see. When someone's sleeping, it's like digging through a small part of the dirt to see the beauty underneath. There's no masks, no fears, no pains. The person you see asleep on the bed is the person when they're not trying to be someone else; it's who they are, pure and honest and simple. It seems like you could learn so much about a person by watching them as they sleep, studying their face, their expression, the way they move slightly, the way they breathe... I know I sound like a creeper saying all of this. But yeah. I seriously will, if able to do so unobserved, watch someone as they sleep. For a good, long while. Just entranced with the person I'm seeing, trying to paint them in a good light.
Yay idealism. *waves little flag*
***time lapse!***
It's 1:30, almost 2, and still no word from Charles (that's his time, not mine). I have to admit to a bit of worry. Trying to tell myself that it's nothing, that he's just sleeping late or forgot his phone (which he's done before). So I'm not gonna freak until later. I don't know how much later is later, tho. Ah well.
So I just got out of the shower (what the heck is up with my habits lately? I've been showering in the middle of the afternoon for a few days now!?!!) and while I was in it, my mind was wandering to different scenarios of how this weekend might go. Gonna ask mom if she wants me home this weekend since it's my birthday and everything. Which means no Skyping, most likely, and most likely very awkward meals... but for some odd reason, my mind was bringing up a really hopeful scenario.
AKA mom and pa actually decide to sit down and talk about all this in a non-confrontational manner, and maybe encourage me to skype Charles as well, and they not only admit to his presence, but also don't disown me and after a lot of talk, agree to give it time before they give any more judgment.
I particularly like the part where mom is shocked by what Jen did. But that's probably just my tiny vindictive side talking. So I'll hush it now.
Charles... where are you?!??!
Wednesday. 14 April 2010.
It's almost midnight. Technically it's Thursday. Whatever.
So I drank a cup of tea and let myself relax. And apparently that was a bad idea, because I'm now so tired that I'm getting dizzy just thinking about how tired I am.
I took a shower in the shower and the curtain was saran wrap. It was interesting.
Talked to Matthew. Wrote him a letter of the summary of the last two months. Thought his reaction to my brief surmising would be a bit larger than what it was. Am I being too dramatic about everything?
What if mom accuses me of being some sort of attention whore? That I derived some sort of sick pleasure from all of this?
I feel kinda sick now, actually. It's just nightthoughts, darkthoughts. I need to shake out of them. Mom wouldn't misjudge her child like that. How could she?
Why do I doubt that logic?
It's just nightthoughts and irrational fears.
I /am/ being too dramatic about everything. I'm dramatic. I need to stop it. Dull things down. Otherwise it'll get annoying. That much is true. Charles argues it, I'll argue right back. Tomorrow, though.
Damn. Four minutes past. Ah, well.
There were good things to today. I can't remember much of what happened today. I need to go down to Kelsee's room sometime and get the info from our lab, and stop in Gasper's room to get my notebook. Haven't hung with him in a while.
Having Charles on Skype while mIRCing Ben and Fio is quite fun. I'm starting to add this lazy, contented feeling to my hopes for the future.
Probably going to order one of those medieval dresses, wander around the USIC campus wearing it or some such nonsense.
Alright, thinking in sentence fragments. Bed. I don't want to leave Charles. I like it here in this thoughtless state of content. .....fine.
So I drank a cup of tea and let myself relax. And apparently that was a bad idea, because I'm now so tired that I'm getting dizzy just thinking about how tired I am.
I took a shower in the shower and the curtain was saran wrap. It was interesting.
Talked to Matthew. Wrote him a letter of the summary of the last two months. Thought his reaction to my brief surmising would be a bit larger than what it was. Am I being too dramatic about everything?
What if mom accuses me of being some sort of attention whore? That I derived some sort of sick pleasure from all of this?
I feel kinda sick now, actually. It's just nightthoughts, darkthoughts. I need to shake out of them. Mom wouldn't misjudge her child like that. How could she?
Why do I doubt that logic?
It's just nightthoughts and irrational fears.
I /am/ being too dramatic about everything. I'm dramatic. I need to stop it. Dull things down. Otherwise it'll get annoying. That much is true. Charles argues it, I'll argue right back. Tomorrow, though.
Damn. Four minutes past. Ah, well.
There were good things to today. I can't remember much of what happened today. I need to go down to Kelsee's room sometime and get the info from our lab, and stop in Gasper's room to get my notebook. Haven't hung with him in a while.
Having Charles on Skype while mIRCing Ben and Fio is quite fun. I'm starting to add this lazy, contented feeling to my hopes for the future.
Probably going to order one of those medieval dresses, wander around the USIC campus wearing it or some such nonsense.
Alright, thinking in sentence fragments. Bed. I don't want to leave Charles. I like it here in this thoughtless state of content. .....fine.
20100413
Optimism? Bah. I prefer chemistry.
I don't want to go to Arabic. I'll probably go late so Ashley and I can decorate the room while Frankie's out to eat with Kevin. I'm pretty tired again. Just want to sleep. Should do more to give me more energy.
Shouldn't be texting Charles at all. He needs sleep. Yeah, I had my guesses about him being sick, but I didn't think that they'd manifest themselves so suddenly. ...although now that I think about it, he looked pretty out of it last night. I mean, abnormally so. Frankie asked me where he was. So I explained, and then I explained the whole plasma thing. She was up-in-arms about it. I was very pleased.
Ha. Up-in-arms. Pun.
Tiara and I started a group (well, I started it than made her admin). We're petitioning for pigs to have the right to fly aircraft.
I should go eat.
Shouldn't be texting Charles at all. He needs sleep. Yeah, I had my guesses about him being sick, but I didn't think that they'd manifest themselves so suddenly. ...although now that I think about it, he looked pretty out of it last night. I mean, abnormally so. Frankie asked me where he was. So I explained, and then I explained the whole plasma thing. She was up-in-arms about it. I was very pleased.
Ha. Up-in-arms. Pun.
Tiara and I started a group (well, I started it than made her admin). We're petitioning for pigs to have the right to fly aircraft.
I should go eat.
Tuesday. 13 April 2010.
Happy Birthday, Frankie~~~~~
And that's about the most cheerful thing about this morning. My back's been killing me all night, making it hard to do the 'roll while staying in place' thing that I normally do whilst sleeping, which means that I woke up every time I tried to do it, glanced at the clock, wondered why the hell I was awake enough to check for texts, and then pass out again. I got about nine and a half hours of sleep. It's strange, being well-rested. For all Charles' insistence on his being a negative influence on me... I'm taking better care of myself XD
We had to close the windows for the first time in a week, because both Frankie and I were shivering this morning. Thank you, Ohio, for proving that in the space of a week you can give us all four seasons. We appreciate it. v.v Plus it's dark and gloomy outside, which means I'm fighting an uphill battle with doom and gloom. But it's not the same doom and gloom as last night, thank God. It's just a lack of complete optimism and a steady ticking of thoughts as opposed to the WHHHEEEEEEEEE I CAN FEEL EMOTIONS thing it was last night.
Which brings me to my entire point for taking up the keyboard. I keep looking at Charles' latest blog post. It makes me wonder how expressing my own emotions is ever worth it, or why the hell I should continue to do so when it's causing this much agony. I'd rather take the pain on myself than let things continue like this. It's cruelty to chain Charles in place like this, and yet I can loose him no more than he can me; I could hide my own pain, but he draws me out of the walls I have built as surely as a doctor would draw venom.
I want to protest that I'm not in that much pain, but that would be lying, and he wouldn't believe me for a moment, because he's seen some of the agony. I've already made the mistake of sorts, letting him see everything, telling him things even against what I think is wise, merely because he asked. I don't think I could lie to him any more than I could lie to God. Is that good? It feels awful in this situation.
Reading this probably won't do anything for him, either. So I'm just digging myself a deeper and deeper hole and wondering why I'm not seeing the daylight through the top yet. I'm smart, what are you talking about? But my thoughts are focusing too much on myself.
Alright. Guesses about my parents.
Mom has a tendency to need time to adjust to things, but once adjusted, is fine. I honestly think that she might be almost kind of sort of alright with things, but Pa is an unknown factor. I don't know how well he responds to things like this, but I have the impression that he's getting more involved emotionally with everything that involves Megs and I, and he's one of those guys who decide something and then don't sway no matter how much evidence is presented otherwise. Mom and Pa communicate very well. Which means that either Mom is swaying him, or Pa is swaying her. I pray it's not the latter, but my gut feeling says it is. Becoming independent won't do anything more than affirm that I'm like his own children, who just up and left with no explanation, which will hurt him a hell of a lot and tighten their grip on Megs - well, becoming independent in the sense that I avoid all contact with them. I'm trying not to do that, as tempting as it is.
If it's the former, I just have to start giving more evidence. Gently nudging, drawing them forward, calm and confident and loving. They'll follow my lead; I know mom does, whether she realizes it or not. That's best expressed when I'm driving - if I'm confident behind the wheel, and calm, and collected, she's relaxed and bubbling happily in the passenger's seat. It makes me happy that Charles was able to draw on Scripture to back himself and myself up. It's another step towards confidence that I, quite frankly, needed. Another piece of armor.
I feel like I'm preparing myself to do battle against the world. Strapping on the greaves, belting the sword around my waist, all the while looking up, planning my moves, bracing my mind to face the enemy. Charles really shouldn't have given me the idea of me being the sword to his shield. I take the role of sword very, very seriously. Especially when I'm defending something so important as this.
Another thought - Mom and Pa are probably going to make me feel the fool for making such a big deal of all this, or approaching it from the angle I'm coming from. I need to note, here and now, why this opinion is wrong. One, they gave me absolutely nothing with which to form a different point of approach. Two, the hell this isn't important. You say it's not, you've got a paper bag over your head the size of Mississippi. Three, yes, they have been hurting me. A lot. Not just with this. With past things, as well. Years and years and years of small pains that have finally manifested themselves into something I can actually look at, hold, face. Something worth fighting for. Because I'm not just fighting for myself. I'm fighting for Charles. I'm standing firm for the both of us and what we have and the hope of what's to come.
The pain is inconsequential. A war cannot be won without its losses; else-wise, there was no battle. It is a passing thing, the pain. It comes and it goes, but the thing I fight for stays as a banner, a rallying point, standing tall amidst the gunsmoke and clamor of battle.
I have class in twenty minutes. Time to get dressed, brush random things, and run. Woosh!
And that's about the most cheerful thing about this morning. My back's been killing me all night, making it hard to do the 'roll while staying in place' thing that I normally do whilst sleeping, which means that I woke up every time I tried to do it, glanced at the clock, wondered why the hell I was awake enough to check for texts, and then pass out again. I got about nine and a half hours of sleep. It's strange, being well-rested. For all Charles' insistence on his being a negative influence on me... I'm taking better care of myself XD
We had to close the windows for the first time in a week, because both Frankie and I were shivering this morning. Thank you, Ohio, for proving that in the space of a week you can give us all four seasons. We appreciate it. v.v Plus it's dark and gloomy outside, which means I'm fighting an uphill battle with doom and gloom. But it's not the same doom and gloom as last night, thank God. It's just a lack of complete optimism and a steady ticking of thoughts as opposed to the WHHHEEEEEEEEE I CAN FEEL EMOTIONS thing it was last night.
Which brings me to my entire point for taking up the keyboard. I keep looking at Charles' latest blog post. It makes me wonder how expressing my own emotions is ever worth it, or why the hell I should continue to do so when it's causing this much agony. I'd rather take the pain on myself than let things continue like this. It's cruelty to chain Charles in place like this, and yet I can loose him no more than he can me; I could hide my own pain, but he draws me out of the walls I have built as surely as a doctor would draw venom.
I want to protest that I'm not in that much pain, but that would be lying, and he wouldn't believe me for a moment, because he's seen some of the agony. I've already made the mistake of sorts, letting him see everything, telling him things even against what I think is wise, merely because he asked. I don't think I could lie to him any more than I could lie to God. Is that good? It feels awful in this situation.
Reading this probably won't do anything for him, either. So I'm just digging myself a deeper and deeper hole and wondering why I'm not seeing the daylight through the top yet. I'm smart, what are you talking about? But my thoughts are focusing too much on myself.
Alright. Guesses about my parents.
Mom has a tendency to need time to adjust to things, but once adjusted, is fine. I honestly think that she might be almost kind of sort of alright with things, but Pa is an unknown factor. I don't know how well he responds to things like this, but I have the impression that he's getting more involved emotionally with everything that involves Megs and I, and he's one of those guys who decide something and then don't sway no matter how much evidence is presented otherwise. Mom and Pa communicate very well. Which means that either Mom is swaying him, or Pa is swaying her. I pray it's not the latter, but my gut feeling says it is. Becoming independent won't do anything more than affirm that I'm like his own children, who just up and left with no explanation, which will hurt him a hell of a lot and tighten their grip on Megs - well, becoming independent in the sense that I avoid all contact with them. I'm trying not to do that, as tempting as it is.
If it's the former, I just have to start giving more evidence. Gently nudging, drawing them forward, calm and confident and loving. They'll follow my lead; I know mom does, whether she realizes it or not. That's best expressed when I'm driving - if I'm confident behind the wheel, and calm, and collected, she's relaxed and bubbling happily in the passenger's seat. It makes me happy that Charles was able to draw on Scripture to back himself and myself up. It's another step towards confidence that I, quite frankly, needed. Another piece of armor.
I feel like I'm preparing myself to do battle against the world. Strapping on the greaves, belting the sword around my waist, all the while looking up, planning my moves, bracing my mind to face the enemy. Charles really shouldn't have given me the idea of me being the sword to his shield. I take the role of sword very, very seriously. Especially when I'm defending something so important as this.
Another thought - Mom and Pa are probably going to make me feel the fool for making such a big deal of all this, or approaching it from the angle I'm coming from. I need to note, here and now, why this opinion is wrong. One, they gave me absolutely nothing with which to form a different point of approach. Two, the hell this isn't important. You say it's not, you've got a paper bag over your head the size of Mississippi. Three, yes, they have been hurting me. A lot. Not just with this. With past things, as well. Years and years and years of small pains that have finally manifested themselves into something I can actually look at, hold, face. Something worth fighting for. Because I'm not just fighting for myself. I'm fighting for Charles. I'm standing firm for the both of us and what we have and the hope of what's to come.
The pain is inconsequential. A war cannot be won without its losses; else-wise, there was no battle. It is a passing thing, the pain. It comes and it goes, but the thing I fight for stays as a banner, a rallying point, standing tall amidst the gunsmoke and clamor of battle.
I have class in twenty minutes. Time to get dressed, brush random things, and run. Woosh!
20100412
Monday. 12 April 2010.
Fragments of thoughts clatter and fall still in the dark pool. They sink heavily in the waters, like rocks, eventually settling at the bottom, lost from light.
I know they won't be there in the morning. Even now I see them as foolishness, as night-terrors and sleeplessness. But they're still there, and weigh on my soul heavily. Perhaps it is coal, surrounding my spirit until it's refined to diamond by the purest sunlight.
Perfection. I know it not, and yet Charles says that for him I am perfect. For him I would wish myself to be so, yet through him I already am. I've grown up attempting to fathom such mysteries, and it's a credit to my exhausted mind that I can puzzle through them only with the greatest of concentration.
Going out to eat for Frankie's birthday was a lot of fun. I haven't hung with the 6th floor crowd in a while (Ben, Frankie, Ashley, and Caitlin) but I missed them and they missed me, and it was like old times. Ben and I creeped on each other, Frankie and I bickered, Caitlin has some sort of weird admiration for me which I don't quite understand and yet find amusing, Ashley... Ashley, I don't know. But it's good, very good. I feel bad for making Charles fret. I feel bad for a lot of things. Tiara and Charles would yell at me.
Tiara and Charles' names sound kinda similar.
I should really hop into bed now... Uck. That's what I get for not sleeping well last night. Naps don't mix well with me. I have to be faintly exhausted through the day so that I sleep well enough to get through the next. I don't blame Charles, though (not that I ever do, and not that not blaming him ever makes him feel less guilty). He did what he thought was best, and we both learned. I had forgotten why I didn't nap. Otherwise I think I would stay in bed all day. If I had nothing to do, nothing to worry about, I would.
Love, marriage, sex, family. Some strange mismatch that stems from our half-planned first meeting this summer. Something tells me I'm going to have to plan a lot. I don't really mind. I just wish I knew if I had a roommate to figure into things in Illinois. I should probably ask.
Tomorrow.
*heads to bed*
I know they won't be there in the morning. Even now I see them as foolishness, as night-terrors and sleeplessness. But they're still there, and weigh on my soul heavily. Perhaps it is coal, surrounding my spirit until it's refined to diamond by the purest sunlight.
Perfection. I know it not, and yet Charles says that for him I am perfect. For him I would wish myself to be so, yet through him I already am. I've grown up attempting to fathom such mysteries, and it's a credit to my exhausted mind that I can puzzle through them only with the greatest of concentration.
Going out to eat for Frankie's birthday was a lot of fun. I haven't hung with the 6th floor crowd in a while (Ben, Frankie, Ashley, and Caitlin) but I missed them and they missed me, and it was like old times. Ben and I creeped on each other, Frankie and I bickered, Caitlin has some sort of weird admiration for me which I don't quite understand and yet find amusing, Ashley... Ashley, I don't know. But it's good, very good. I feel bad for making Charles fret. I feel bad for a lot of things. Tiara and Charles would yell at me.
Tiara and Charles' names sound kinda similar.
I should really hop into bed now... Uck. That's what I get for not sleeping well last night. Naps don't mix well with me. I have to be faintly exhausted through the day so that I sleep well enough to get through the next. I don't blame Charles, though (not that I ever do, and not that not blaming him ever makes him feel less guilty). He did what he thought was best, and we both learned. I had forgotten why I didn't nap. Otherwise I think I would stay in bed all day. If I had nothing to do, nothing to worry about, I would.
Love, marriage, sex, family. Some strange mismatch that stems from our half-planned first meeting this summer. Something tells me I'm going to have to plan a lot. I don't really mind. I just wish I knew if I had a roommate to figure into things in Illinois. I should probably ask.
Tomorrow.
*heads to bed*
20100411
Sunday. 11 April 2010. Part II.
Dark-wrought thoughts and midnight terrors catch me, toss me, hold me. I'm lost in a sea of starless night, waves thundering around me, my screams silent.
Just as suddenly, I leap into open air, and I fall, past the clouds, through the never-ending sky, twisting and writhing as I count the seconds till my doom, when the world will come crashing around me, when heaven meets earth and when I am finally, fatally reminded that nothing good on this world can stay.
Only I land without pain, without agony, and I don't know if I am alive or dead, but there is no pain, and it is bright. The grass is soft beneath my bare feet; my skirts make only the faintest noise as it swirls around my legs. A soft, sweet breeze - scented of roses, of grass, of life - brushes across my bared shoulders, twines through my hair, caresses my face like a lover. There are birds singing softly, musically, off in the distance, and the soft rustle of grass acts as a steady rhythm to which I could dance.
Off in the distance, by the mist-shrouded treeline, I see a figure, and in a dreamlike manner I know that this figure holds answers, and make to move towards it. With my first step I feel energy and life flood through me, so strong I cannot do anything but run. And run I do, feet barely touching the ground with the speed, and never feeling weary or out of breath. My eyes see only the figure, growing larger as I speed towards it.
I recognize the posture, the stance, the manner of movement, before I see the face, and I come to a halt. He is familiar, but puzzlement makes the smile on my face falter.
Another step forward, and then he looks up, and I meet his eyes and recognition sends my mind to a jarring halt. Before I know it I'm in his arms, weeping with joy and wonder, unknowing if this is real, knowing it cannot be, and yet soaking in every moment.
My father wraps his arms around me and holds me tight, whispering quietly in my ear, telling me that he loves me, that he's so proud of me, that he's sorry he couldn't be there to help me as I grew into the woman I've become.
I shake my head, tears turning sorrowful, struggling to push away, because he doesn't know what I've done, who I'm with, what I've become. He sees only what he wants to see, doesn't know the flaws, doesn't understand what the rest of my family seems to see so clearly. I want to tell him, because I can't live in the lie of his love, love which should be conditional if it's to make any sense. He can't go into it blinded.
He puts his hand under my chin, and I hesitantly meet his green-eyed gaze. He only whispers two words. "I know." There is sorrow there, grief shared, pain understood. But there is love, too. Love and pride so great that I have to turn my head in awe.
Gently he takes me by the hand, tugs me along the line of the forest. My head is cast down, but I walk as close to him as possible, trying to memorize the manner of his step, the scent of his clothes, the feel of his warmth. My father. My father. I feel as if I'm five again, and at the same time, I feel my age, and yet again older. I feel wise and foolish at the same time. We stop.
"Rachel," he tells me in his rich tenor, "my daughter. Look up."
I do so. And the first thing I see is another man standing not five feet away from me. My heart jumps. A face I know well. I need the gentle nudge from my father to get me to start moving, but once I take that first step I'm running, and I can't run fast enough, and he's moving to me at the same speed, and I can feel the joy written in his body as strongly as I can feel the joy in my own.
Charles spins me around, and for a dizzy moment all I can do is cling to him, but it's alright, because I know he won't let me fall. We hold each other for a long time, wonderment and happiness as strong and pleasantly warm as the sun caressing us. After the passing of decades we both turn to face my father.
The moments it takes to turn remind me of every fear and every bit of hesitancy I've felt in facing anyone I know with Charles at my side. Dark thoughts seem so out of place in this sunny world, but I can think no other, for being hurt too many times makes it difficult to trust. Father walks forward, and I cannot tell what he is thinking.
He stops a few feet from us, Charles with his arms wrapped around my waist. I can feel him tensing behind me, ready to defend, to step in and be my shield from what we've both come to expect. Retribution. Scorn. Hatred. Father observes this, and I know he can see the readiness, can see my bone-deep desire to protect the one I love. And I know he knows how much it would hurt to have him rebuke me for my choice. A sudden cool drop on my chest makes me look down for a brief instant. I see the cross necklace, glittering in the sunlight. And I meet my father's eyes when I look up again, but this time I can feel the strength that I have felt so often before, strength that makes me feel like hammered steel, flexible but unwavering.
"You are welcome to me, Charles." The formal words cross my father's lips, and a moment later he smiles warmly. Disbelief and shock radiate from both of us, but wonder soon takes my breath away. Acceptance.
And then I understand. For here there are no ages, are no scars of the flesh. We are refined forms of ourselves; those darkened would be moreso, those bright multiplied until diamonds. Here there is only what is in the heart and the soul brought to the surface. Here is where Charles and I meet, here is where we see, here is where all lovers see. It is the playing field of love, and it is a place untarnished by the darkness of the world.
The dream fades, but the thoughts remain. And so they shall be.
Just as suddenly, I leap into open air, and I fall, past the clouds, through the never-ending sky, twisting and writhing as I count the seconds till my doom, when the world will come crashing around me, when heaven meets earth and when I am finally, fatally reminded that nothing good on this world can stay.
Only I land without pain, without agony, and I don't know if I am alive or dead, but there is no pain, and it is bright. The grass is soft beneath my bare feet; my skirts make only the faintest noise as it swirls around my legs. A soft, sweet breeze - scented of roses, of grass, of life - brushes across my bared shoulders, twines through my hair, caresses my face like a lover. There are birds singing softly, musically, off in the distance, and the soft rustle of grass acts as a steady rhythm to which I could dance.
Off in the distance, by the mist-shrouded treeline, I see a figure, and in a dreamlike manner I know that this figure holds answers, and make to move towards it. With my first step I feel energy and life flood through me, so strong I cannot do anything but run. And run I do, feet barely touching the ground with the speed, and never feeling weary or out of breath. My eyes see only the figure, growing larger as I speed towards it.
I recognize the posture, the stance, the manner of movement, before I see the face, and I come to a halt. He is familiar, but puzzlement makes the smile on my face falter.
Another step forward, and then he looks up, and I meet his eyes and recognition sends my mind to a jarring halt. Before I know it I'm in his arms, weeping with joy and wonder, unknowing if this is real, knowing it cannot be, and yet soaking in every moment.
My father wraps his arms around me and holds me tight, whispering quietly in my ear, telling me that he loves me, that he's so proud of me, that he's sorry he couldn't be there to help me as I grew into the woman I've become.
I shake my head, tears turning sorrowful, struggling to push away, because he doesn't know what I've done, who I'm with, what I've become. He sees only what he wants to see, doesn't know the flaws, doesn't understand what the rest of my family seems to see so clearly. I want to tell him, because I can't live in the lie of his love, love which should be conditional if it's to make any sense. He can't go into it blinded.
He puts his hand under my chin, and I hesitantly meet his green-eyed gaze. He only whispers two words. "I know." There is sorrow there, grief shared, pain understood. But there is love, too. Love and pride so great that I have to turn my head in awe.
Gently he takes me by the hand, tugs me along the line of the forest. My head is cast down, but I walk as close to him as possible, trying to memorize the manner of his step, the scent of his clothes, the feel of his warmth. My father. My father. I feel as if I'm five again, and at the same time, I feel my age, and yet again older. I feel wise and foolish at the same time. We stop.
"Rachel," he tells me in his rich tenor, "my daughter. Look up."
I do so. And the first thing I see is another man standing not five feet away from me. My heart jumps. A face I know well. I need the gentle nudge from my father to get me to start moving, but once I take that first step I'm running, and I can't run fast enough, and he's moving to me at the same speed, and I can feel the joy written in his body as strongly as I can feel the joy in my own.
Charles spins me around, and for a dizzy moment all I can do is cling to him, but it's alright, because I know he won't let me fall. We hold each other for a long time, wonderment and happiness as strong and pleasantly warm as the sun caressing us. After the passing of decades we both turn to face my father.
The moments it takes to turn remind me of every fear and every bit of hesitancy I've felt in facing anyone I know with Charles at my side. Dark thoughts seem so out of place in this sunny world, but I can think no other, for being hurt too many times makes it difficult to trust. Father walks forward, and I cannot tell what he is thinking.
He stops a few feet from us, Charles with his arms wrapped around my waist. I can feel him tensing behind me, ready to defend, to step in and be my shield from what we've both come to expect. Retribution. Scorn. Hatred. Father observes this, and I know he can see the readiness, can see my bone-deep desire to protect the one I love. And I know he knows how much it would hurt to have him rebuke me for my choice. A sudden cool drop on my chest makes me look down for a brief instant. I see the cross necklace, glittering in the sunlight. And I meet my father's eyes when I look up again, but this time I can feel the strength that I have felt so often before, strength that makes me feel like hammered steel, flexible but unwavering.
"You are welcome to me, Charles." The formal words cross my father's lips, and a moment later he smiles warmly. Disbelief and shock radiate from both of us, but wonder soon takes my breath away. Acceptance.
And then I understand. For here there are no ages, are no scars of the flesh. We are refined forms of ourselves; those darkened would be moreso, those bright multiplied until diamonds. Here there is only what is in the heart and the soul brought to the surface. Here is where Charles and I meet, here is where we see, here is where all lovers see. It is the playing field of love, and it is a place untarnished by the darkness of the world.
The dream fades, but the thoughts remain. And so they shall be.
Sunday. 11 April 2010.
Dangit.
This is why I don't like naps. Charles forced me back into bed when I mentioned being tired, and apparently it was the last straw for my back, because I woke up in a lot of pain. Tossed one of those patches Grandma gave me back there, and the cold did a lot, but then the cold went away and now I'm waiting for it to stop hurting again.
Just saw Tim walk by outside with a piano keyboard. o_o There's also two trombonists practicing in the Common Room (they're really good, it's nice to listen to, so I'm not complaining about not getting to practice Mario stuffs on the piano yet) so I'm just sitting here listening to them.
Today's such a lazy day. I should really work on some of those lab reports I've been needing to get done, but... we don't have lab on Monday, so I'm going to put it off for a bit longer. My excuse is that I need the relaxation. There's a little part in the back of my mind that's telling me I've been relaxing for the whole week, not to mention the whole weekend, so I should get off my lazy ass and get some work done.
Procrastination has too strong a hold on me. XD
This is why I don't like naps. Charles forced me back into bed when I mentioned being tired, and apparently it was the last straw for my back, because I woke up in a lot of pain. Tossed one of those patches Grandma gave me back there, and the cold did a lot, but then the cold went away and now I'm waiting for it to stop hurting again.
Just saw Tim walk by outside with a piano keyboard. o_o There's also two trombonists practicing in the Common Room (they're really good, it's nice to listen to, so I'm not complaining about not getting to practice Mario stuffs on the piano yet) so I'm just sitting here listening to them.
Today's such a lazy day. I should really work on some of those lab reports I've been needing to get done, but... we don't have lab on Monday, so I'm going to put it off for a bit longer. My excuse is that I need the relaxation. There's a little part in the back of my mind that's telling me I've been relaxing for the whole week, not to mention the whole weekend, so I should get off my lazy ass and get some work done.
Procrastination has too strong a hold on me. XD
20100410
Saturday. 10 April 2010.
I feel awful. I keep forgetting about blogtime. I blame Charles. He distracts me with his awesome boyfriend-y-ness.
So... let's see. Got to talk to Mrs. Charles' Mama on the phone - three way convo - and that woman seems wonderful. I mean, yeah, she's got flaws, but she's genuine and honest and ... and ... and Charles is making strange noises and I can't concentrate. ><
XD
Tanya and I texted for a while regarding Charles, and although she's very, very hesitant, she actually gave a damn and bothered to listen to my side of things. Lord be praised. I was in tears when I realized I wasn't going to lose her for this as well. Jen disowning me really threw me through a loop... although I guess it could be worse. Last night when I went on a nyom run, I ran into one of the girls from my Arabic class (not Mary) and one of her friends. I mentioned that I was worried about my fam disowning me, and her friend said that he was going through the same - his /father/ refused to acknowledge him because of his choice in significant other. I got the sense that it was because of his sexual preference. AKA his father wasn't pleased that his son had a boyfriend.
I've never had more sympathy for people in that situation. It sucks.
But things are looking up. My friends are behind me, and Megs is still talking to me. Tanya's giving me a shot. Slowly but surely things are going uphill. Ben and Fio have had a wonderful turn of events - Fio's father, I believe, is helping them with their debts, and they're in a deep sense of relief. [EDIT: I have been informed that it was actually Ben's father. Whoops.] Charles is happy, I hope. I pray. I'm pretty positive he is, despite the drama that seems to follow me wherever I go. And trying to be strong so that he has nothing to blame himself for - it makes my worries seem a lot less significant, a lot smaller to bear. As always, the cross necklace I got on my confirmation remains above my heart and next to the bell Charles gave me, and that pretty much represents how my heart lies at the moment. All of my worries and stresses - they aren't just mine any more. I bear such a small portion of them it's almost inconsequential.
Well, I'm going to stop typing now and coerce Charles into finally watching Phantom of the Opera. Wish me luck, O Internet!
So... let's see. Got to talk to Mrs. Charles' Mama on the phone - three way convo - and that woman seems wonderful. I mean, yeah, she's got flaws, but she's genuine and honest and ... and ... and Charles is making strange noises and I can't concentrate. ><
XD
Tanya and I texted for a while regarding Charles, and although she's very, very hesitant, she actually gave a damn and bothered to listen to my side of things. Lord be praised. I was in tears when I realized I wasn't going to lose her for this as well. Jen disowning me really threw me through a loop... although I guess it could be worse. Last night when I went on a nyom run, I ran into one of the girls from my Arabic class (not Mary) and one of her friends. I mentioned that I was worried about my fam disowning me, and her friend said that he was going through the same - his /father/ refused to acknowledge him because of his choice in significant other. I got the sense that it was because of his sexual preference. AKA his father wasn't pleased that his son had a boyfriend.
I've never had more sympathy for people in that situation. It sucks.
But things are looking up. My friends are behind me, and Megs is still talking to me. Tanya's giving me a shot. Slowly but surely things are going uphill. Ben and Fio have had a wonderful turn of events - Fio's father, I believe, is helping them with their debts, and they're in a deep sense of relief. [EDIT: I have been informed that it was actually Ben's father. Whoops.] Charles is happy, I hope. I pray. I'm pretty positive he is, despite the drama that seems to follow me wherever I go. And trying to be strong so that he has nothing to blame himself for - it makes my worries seem a lot less significant, a lot smaller to bear. As always, the cross necklace I got on my confirmation remains above my heart and next to the bell Charles gave me, and that pretty much represents how my heart lies at the moment. All of my worries and stresses - they aren't just mine any more. I bear such a small portion of them it's almost inconsequential.
Well, I'm going to stop typing now and coerce Charles into finally watching Phantom of the Opera. Wish me luck, O Internet!
20100409
Friday. 9 April 2010.
Just had to think for about ten seconds to remember the word 'scientist'.
Also can't type.
Retreating to pictures.
Today in Chemistry:
And this morning:
Also can't type.
Retreating to pictures.
Today in Chemistry:
And this morning:
Thursday. 8 April 2010. Kind of.
ACKACKACK.
Okay, it's not actually Thursday. It's Friday, and it's 1:30, and Charles and I finally got off of Skype and we finally said goodnight to Ben and Fio. And I forgot to blog today, what with all the excitement and I realized it and I was like ocrap but I'm not going to not blog because today was a VERY GOOD DAY.
Okay. Okay. So, starting with the most recent thing and moving backwards. Charles and I were Skyping (surprise surprise XD) and he was yawning and I was noting (silently) the circles under my eyes so I was shooing him off to bed. And we did the 'kiss in your direction' thing, not the 'blow you a kiss' thing, and we did it at the same time. Like, perfect coordination. And I turned away and laughed and quietly told him something along the lines of how crazy it'll be once we're actually in the same room. And then I glance at him, and he leans back and prefaces it with the normal 'I don't mean this like it sounds' and then says: "I'm not going to be able to stop kissing you, you know."
And he went on and told me how so.
My heart is still racing. I could feel it, I could see it, I was there, for those few moments I was there, and it was incredible. I could feel him. Feel /us/. My stomach dropped, my heart twisted and turned in agony of him not being here, of me not being there, of not being with him. I swear, this man is the most incredible thing to happen in my life.
Backtrack an hour, and you have Charles and I in the midst of a discussion about how both of us have this feeling about being made to do /something/. Charles knows it because it just seems like he can't die (along with the gut feeling); I know it because it's the same nudging sensation I get from God. I'm praying that this might might might be the first step on a path towards his walk with the Lord. But there's a part of me that's also got this absolute joy coursing through me, like blood in my veins, making me dizzy, making me hopeful, giving me everything I was praying for so desperately yesterday.
Because tonight, in that conversation, I found the conviction that I have so desperately needed. If this is what Charles has been driven to his entire life - to me - and that's what I feel - it's the same gut nudge - and when he said that, I just... I felt myself bracing my mental stance, spirit standing up straighter, emotions flowing again like they haven't for a week. Uncertainty is gone. Out the window, fled into the night like shadows retreat with dawn. Here is where I am. And here I shall stay. I'm surprised by the joy. I took a moment and just threw my head back, smiling, close to tears, feeling that same joy I feel when I dance with the Lord. It was a long minute of harmony between the two great loves of my life, and my spirit is still resonating. I want to dance, to spin in the rain, to just open my mouth and have all the joy pour out in a song that's as unearthly as this feeling is, because for some reason I know that the more I let go in praise, the more I'll feel, until I collapse from exhaustion from reveling for so long.
Arabic was fine. I did better on the test than I thought I would, and Mary invited me to a movie-day-spree on Saturday. She said that I'd be back before evening, so that I can still watch Phantom with Charles. She seemed enamored by the idea. I also gave her a brief description of his Valentine's Day gift to me. And she squeed. I'm not the only one who thinks it's utterly romantic and so incredibly sweet. X3
Fio was a lot more open and relaxed than I thought she would be, from how Charles has described her. But Ben is utter and epic win. I have merely brushed my toes into the wellspring of his knowledge on all things that I adore, and I want to dive in it for days on end. Because this is something I've dreamed of reading about, but this is so much better than reading because here is something that I can ask questions to and complete sentences for and bounce ideas around with. Military history, tactics, the order of creation, the dominance of different types of infantry and cavalry against one another... Which reminds me, John from Arabic (a highschooler) told Mary and I about the SCA, a medieval reenactment society that actually teaches those who want to learn how to swordfight. Armor and all. You can get knighted if you're good enough. Learn polearms. Duel blades. Be a blacksmith, be a lord, I don't know what else but dear heavens above, today is amazing.
Mom even gave a semi-cheerful reply to my 'happy afternoon' text: 'Good afternoon :D." I'm not sure about that period, but it was there and yeah. Gah.
Waking up wasn't fun, I was warring with the dark thoughts of yesterday and the day before, and my Charles wasn't responding because he was sleeping and I was jealous because Frankie was heading out the door and I realized Ben was in the room and had been for a while and I was like "Ohai" in that "I woke up five seconds ago, can you tell?" voice. And Frankie and Ashley both watched the Dramatic Reading of a Real Breakup Letter and they both nearly died laughing and Frankie and I are going to maybe blog our life (in our copious amounts of spare time x.x) and and and
Calculus.
Exam.
Sleep.
I miss Charles already. It's barely been 20 minutes.
I'm hopeless.
I also have to use the bathroom.
Stopping now. Goodnight. Can we please pretend it's Thursday? Kthxbai.
Okay, it's not actually Thursday. It's Friday, and it's 1:30, and Charles and I finally got off of Skype and we finally said goodnight to Ben and Fio. And I forgot to blog today, what with all the excitement and I realized it and I was like ocrap but I'm not going to not blog because today was a VERY GOOD DAY.
Okay. Okay. So, starting with the most recent thing and moving backwards. Charles and I were Skyping (surprise surprise XD) and he was yawning and I was noting (silently) the circles under my eyes so I was shooing him off to bed. And we did the 'kiss in your direction' thing, not the 'blow you a kiss' thing, and we did it at the same time. Like, perfect coordination. And I turned away and laughed and quietly told him something along the lines of how crazy it'll be once we're actually in the same room. And then I glance at him, and he leans back and prefaces it with the normal 'I don't mean this like it sounds' and then says: "I'm not going to be able to stop kissing you, you know."
And he went on and told me how so.
My heart is still racing. I could feel it, I could see it, I was there, for those few moments I was there, and it was incredible. I could feel him. Feel /us/. My stomach dropped, my heart twisted and turned in agony of him not being here, of me not being there, of not being with him. I swear, this man is the most incredible thing to happen in my life.
Backtrack an hour, and you have Charles and I in the midst of a discussion about how both of us have this feeling about being made to do /something/. Charles knows it because it just seems like he can't die (along with the gut feeling); I know it because it's the same nudging sensation I get from God. I'm praying that this might might might be the first step on a path towards his walk with the Lord. But there's a part of me that's also got this absolute joy coursing through me, like blood in my veins, making me dizzy, making me hopeful, giving me everything I was praying for so desperately yesterday.
Because tonight, in that conversation, I found the conviction that I have so desperately needed. If this is what Charles has been driven to his entire life - to me - and that's what I feel - it's the same gut nudge - and when he said that, I just... I felt myself bracing my mental stance, spirit standing up straighter, emotions flowing again like they haven't for a week. Uncertainty is gone. Out the window, fled into the night like shadows retreat with dawn. Here is where I am. And here I shall stay. I'm surprised by the joy. I took a moment and just threw my head back, smiling, close to tears, feeling that same joy I feel when I dance with the Lord. It was a long minute of harmony between the two great loves of my life, and my spirit is still resonating. I want to dance, to spin in the rain, to just open my mouth and have all the joy pour out in a song that's as unearthly as this feeling is, because for some reason I know that the more I let go in praise, the more I'll feel, until I collapse from exhaustion from reveling for so long.
Arabic was fine. I did better on the test than I thought I would, and Mary invited me to a movie-day-spree on Saturday. She said that I'd be back before evening, so that I can still watch Phantom with Charles. She seemed enamored by the idea. I also gave her a brief description of his Valentine's Day gift to me. And she squeed. I'm not the only one who thinks it's utterly romantic and so incredibly sweet. X3
Fio was a lot more open and relaxed than I thought she would be, from how Charles has described her. But Ben is utter and epic win. I have merely brushed my toes into the wellspring of his knowledge on all things that I adore, and I want to dive in it for days on end. Because this is something I've dreamed of reading about, but this is so much better than reading because here is something that I can ask questions to and complete sentences for and bounce ideas around with. Military history, tactics, the order of creation, the dominance of different types of infantry and cavalry against one another... Which reminds me, John from Arabic (a highschooler) told Mary and I about the SCA, a medieval reenactment society that actually teaches those who want to learn how to swordfight. Armor and all. You can get knighted if you're good enough. Learn polearms. Duel blades. Be a blacksmith, be a lord, I don't know what else but dear heavens above, today is amazing.
Mom even gave a semi-cheerful reply to my 'happy afternoon' text: 'Good afternoon :D." I'm not sure about that period, but it was there and yeah. Gah.
Waking up wasn't fun, I was warring with the dark thoughts of yesterday and the day before, and my Charles wasn't responding because he was sleeping and I was jealous because Frankie was heading out the door and I realized Ben was in the room and had been for a while and I was like "Ohai" in that "I woke up five seconds ago, can you tell?" voice. And Frankie and Ashley both watched the Dramatic Reading of a Real Breakup Letter and they both nearly died laughing and Frankie and I are going to maybe blog our life (in our copious amounts of spare time x.x) and and and
Calculus.
Exam.
Sleep.
I miss Charles already. It's barely been 20 minutes.
I'm hopeless.
I also have to use the bathroom.
Stopping now. Goodnight. Can we please pretend it's Thursday? Kthxbai.
20100407
Wednesday. 7 April 2010.
I spent a good ten minutes on my knees, sobbing and praying fervently. It was agony, deciding what to do from here. I was afraid, uncertain, exhausted. Worried. But… I decided that this is the only thing I can and should do. I might have been able to do something different; I might have made a different choice.
But I stand with Charles. It is what I see is right. He says much of what’s happened in the last months is his fault. I can see where he comes from with that statement. However – it wasn’t purely him, but the clash between him and my parents. And I happen to be caught in the middle of it. My parents are NOT me, goddamnit. Why do they have to continuously throw themselves into the middle of my life?
Why did I have to be an idealist?
*sighs* I’ll admit it, I’m exhausted. Five and a half hours of sleep after yesterday’s roller-coaster ride wasn’t the best plan, especially with a full day of school ahead. And my underwear keeps riding up. Whine, whine, complain, complain. Blah.
Got a calc exam Friday, an Arabic skit/test tomorrow, meeting with Mary tonight to work on the skit. 7:00 sharp. Hopefully go to sleep early. Watching Star Wars Episode III. Waiting for Charles to come back. Maybe we’ll play a game of chess. I really had fun playing last night.
Mind is a rumpled mess. I hope it stays that way because I don’t want to think right now. Wish I was with Charles, so badly. So, so badly. Then I could just curl up on his bed and sleep next to him, and even if the world was to crash around our ears, things would be alright.
But I stand with Charles. It is what I see is right. He says much of what’s happened in the last months is his fault. I can see where he comes from with that statement. However – it wasn’t purely him, but the clash between him and my parents. And I happen to be caught in the middle of it. My parents are NOT me, goddamnit. Why do they have to continuously throw themselves into the middle of my life?
Why did I have to be an idealist?
*sighs* I’ll admit it, I’m exhausted. Five and a half hours of sleep after yesterday’s roller-coaster ride wasn’t the best plan, especially with a full day of school ahead. And my underwear keeps riding up. Whine, whine, complain, complain. Blah.
Got a calc exam Friday, an Arabic skit/test tomorrow, meeting with Mary tonight to work on the skit. 7:00 sharp. Hopefully go to sleep early. Watching Star Wars Episode III. Waiting for Charles to come back. Maybe we’ll play a game of chess. I really had fun playing last night.
Mind is a rumpled mess. I hope it stays that way because I don’t want to think right now. Wish I was with Charles, so badly. So, so badly. Then I could just curl up on his bed and sleep next to him, and even if the world was to crash around our ears, things would be alright.
20100406
Tuesday. 6 April 2010.
I'm glad my parents know about Charles and I now. I'm glad there are no more secrets. But my heart is still pounding too quickly and I still want to cry. I don't... I wish... I... I wish I didn't feel like I was going against all of my family by doing this. I pray desperately that time will convince them where words will not.
Because this - seems - sounds - feels - alright. There are too many emotions, too many conflicts, and I hate it, but this is something to stand up for. It's an attempt to compromise two separate worlds, and something has to give. I am this. I am me, even if my family is a part of me, even if my friends are a part of me. Charles is a part of me. I want there to be no strife. But then the world would be perfect.
I wish I could feel the optimism I show. It's easy to be strong for Charles, it's natural, it's right. But I tread in my own mind and the fear comes back, the uncertainty, the shadows. The worries. I don't know what the future will hold. I don't know what to expect.
One thing I do know, for certain, is that there are two who will never leave my side through it all. The first has been with me since before I was born - my God - and the second is Charles. I cling to that. No matter what happens, I will not face it alone. I have the strength to get through this, the knowledge to use my resources if not my wisdom, and... and I have the sheer force of will to keep going. Stubbornness, if you wish. I lean not on my own understanding. But Charles was put here for a reason. I had to go through Jack for a reason. And those reasons have led me to this point.
Lord, if this is the wrong path, I'm not going to see it unless you put a stumbling stone in my way that will knock me flat on my back and unconscious. I'm stronger than I was before, that strength is something You gave me. Is this why I have it? For Charles? Please, Lord. Please. Let this be your plan. Let this be the road you want me to walk. Let there be hope in what I want, and a future in this man. You know the agony I would be in were this not my path. You know Charles' agony, as well. It's so difficult to give it all up to you.
But only you can sway hearts, only you can guide me through this. The tears I shed now are the only thing I can offer you besides my heart and my spirit, and both are yours already. I've made mistakes. But always, always you draw me back to you. As long as both you and Charles are in my life, aiming towards the same path - as long as the three of us walk together - there is nothing more I could wish. I cannot say I would be joyous with that course. But assurance is what I need. Confidence.
You know my heart. You know my needs, my hopes, my dreams, my fears. I lay it at your feet.
I feel lighter now. Tired, worn, weary, but lighter. And again will come the hope and the love, just as dawn always comes after midnight. It's just going to take a while.
Because this - seems - sounds - feels - alright. There are too many emotions, too many conflicts, and I hate it, but this is something to stand up for. It's an attempt to compromise two separate worlds, and something has to give. I am this. I am me, even if my family is a part of me, even if my friends are a part of me. Charles is a part of me. I want there to be no strife. But then the world would be perfect.
I wish I could feel the optimism I show. It's easy to be strong for Charles, it's natural, it's right. But I tread in my own mind and the fear comes back, the uncertainty, the shadows. The worries. I don't know what the future will hold. I don't know what to expect.
One thing I do know, for certain, is that there are two who will never leave my side through it all. The first has been with me since before I was born - my God - and the second is Charles. I cling to that. No matter what happens, I will not face it alone. I have the strength to get through this, the knowledge to use my resources if not my wisdom, and... and I have the sheer force of will to keep going. Stubbornness, if you wish. I lean not on my own understanding. But Charles was put here for a reason. I had to go through Jack for a reason. And those reasons have led me to this point.
Lord, if this is the wrong path, I'm not going to see it unless you put a stumbling stone in my way that will knock me flat on my back and unconscious. I'm stronger than I was before, that strength is something You gave me. Is this why I have it? For Charles? Please, Lord. Please. Let this be your plan. Let this be the road you want me to walk. Let there be hope in what I want, and a future in this man. You know the agony I would be in were this not my path. You know Charles' agony, as well. It's so difficult to give it all up to you.
But only you can sway hearts, only you can guide me through this. The tears I shed now are the only thing I can offer you besides my heart and my spirit, and both are yours already. I've made mistakes. But always, always you draw me back to you. As long as both you and Charles are in my life, aiming towards the same path - as long as the three of us walk together - there is nothing more I could wish. I cannot say I would be joyous with that course. But assurance is what I need. Confidence.
You know my heart. You know my needs, my hopes, my dreams, my fears. I lay it at your feet.
I feel lighter now. Tired, worn, weary, but lighter. And again will come the hope and the love, just as dawn always comes after midnight. It's just going to take a while.
20100405
Monday. 5 April 2010.
Today is a good day, except it's freakin hot. So I stripped to a tank top and pajama pants. Which I never do. o_o Probably gonna sleep on top of the blankets again today, like I did last night, until about 7 in the morning, after which I pulled half of the comforter over the part of me that wasn't right next to the wall.
Okay. So Charles and I are working on a letter of sorts to my parents. I'm pretty terrified o- no. I'm not. I can't say that. I'm a bit nervous. But I've given up control of the situation, in the sense that worrying over how mom and pa might react won't do anything except give me premature gray hairs. Whatever happens, happens, I guess. Charles and I will take what comes when it comes; yes, we'll try to plan for different results, but there's only so much that we can do, and trying to go beyond that will only cause strife.
Alright. On to the nerding.
Which is now a verb.
I, in my chem notes, tend to jot down interesting things Professor Zeigler says. And the notes from the past two or so lectures have been incredibly interesting. So I'll jot all of my thoughts on them down here, in the hopes that they offer some amusement or food for thought.
First off, midges. Mayflies. Canadian soldiers. Whatever you want to call the damn things, they like swarming the area around the lake like no tomorrow (Lake Erie, to the non-natives). As in, you park the car in a place remotely close to the lake and come back and the car is black. And you hear crunching wherever you walk. And the screens. And the roller coasters. And and and... *shudders* So these pesky little buggers weren't around during the 70's. Why? Because of pollution. I find it amusing that we get to choose between catching the Cuyahoga River on fire and dealing with a mob of midges every spring...
Alright. Tip for not getting those yellow spots in your lawn everywhere Fido pees? Take a watering can out and water the spot for the toilet right after he goes. The reason the grass dies is because of too-high concentrations of nitrogen. Dilute the nitrogen, and the grass doesn't die. Also, you'll lose all communication with your neighbors because you water your dog's excretions.
Professor Zeigler: What are some of the remnants of pollution in the 1970s?
Student: We lit the river on fire!
Professor Zeigler: *calmly* After the glory days of pollution, then.
Other Student: Three-eyed fish?
Although organic farming (no pesticides) produces less icky stuff, it replenishes nitrogen in the soil too slowly. Basically, by being organic, you're making people go hungry because there isn't enough food being produced, you drive ALL the prices up, etc., etc.
In the Crutacious period, carbon dioxide was at about 3,000 ppm. The average global temperature was at about 4 degrees above what it is now. The current ppm (parts per million)? 300. I don't think we should be too worried.
In fact, carbon dioxide isn't really that much of a greenhouse gas. You see, the atoms in carbon dioxide (a carbon and two oxygens) line up in a straight line, like this:
O=C=O
However, for example, a water molecule's atoms (two hydrogens and one oxygen) look like this:
/O\
H/ \H
(upside down v-shaped)
When energy from the sun (infrared radiation... it's like visible light, only the way we perceive it is as heat) hits these molecules, it causes the 'bonds' (the lines between the letters, basically - shared electrons hold the atoms together, but they're drawn like this and referred to as bonds) to 'vibrate'. In the carbon dioxide atom, the oxygens can only go towards and away from the carbon atom. However, the hydrogen atoms in the water go up and down - closer to each other and further away from each other. This absorbs more energy... basically? Water vapor is a better greenhouse gas than carbon dioxide. A lot of molecules are. The only reason it's a concern is because we produce so freakin much of it.
Which brings up the question: if we switch to the kind of fuel that only produces water vapor as a product, wouldn't that only have a negative effect on the environment? Added to that, those cells need /fresh/ water to run, and there's kind of a problem with that, seeing as 1.6 billion people are expected to live where water is scarce in a few years. That's a lot of people.
Following that line of thought: Desalinating water (removing the salt from seawater) leaves the nasty salty stuff behind. What do you do with it? You can't just dump it; that only increases the concentration of salt in whatever you're trying to de-salt, and that could screw up the ecosystem pretty badly, and be very much a step backwards in the whole fresh water needed nao thing. So just filtering the water isn't a good idea either.
What if we used the salt solution as a kind of battery? Like, if you have a low concentration on one side, and a high concentration of salt on the other side, the high concentration side is gonna wanna go to the low concentration, and that movement creates energy. Not sure how much... but it'd be something. We'd have to figure out how to switch out the concentrations. o_o
The Salim witch trials are sometimes blamed on this strange hallucinagory fungus that grows on grain. One time a whole city in France got high off of it and started hallucinating some really freaky crap. So in Salim, the kids ate the bread and then the villagers were like OMG OUR KIDS ARE SEEING THINGS...
>.>
<.<
BURN THE WITCHES!
How do you know that she's a witch?
SHE LOOKS LIKE ONE!
They dressed me in this, it's not me...
SHE TURNED ME INTO A NEWT!
.....
I got better...
Yeah. XD You can see my views on the Salim witch trials.
Well, that's all the nerding from the past few days. I leave this EPICpost now.
Okay. So Charles and I are working on a letter of sorts to my parents. I'm pretty terrified o- no. I'm not. I can't say that. I'm a bit nervous. But I've given up control of the situation, in the sense that worrying over how mom and pa might react won't do anything except give me premature gray hairs. Whatever happens, happens, I guess. Charles and I will take what comes when it comes; yes, we'll try to plan for different results, but there's only so much that we can do, and trying to go beyond that will only cause strife.
Alright. On to the nerding.
Which is now a verb.
I, in my chem notes, tend to jot down interesting things Professor Zeigler says. And the notes from the past two or so lectures have been incredibly interesting. So I'll jot all of my thoughts on them down here, in the hopes that they offer some amusement or food for thought.
First off, midges. Mayflies. Canadian soldiers. Whatever you want to call the damn things, they like swarming the area around the lake like no tomorrow (Lake Erie, to the non-natives). As in, you park the car in a place remotely close to the lake and come back and the car is black. And you hear crunching wherever you walk. And the screens. And the roller coasters. And and and... *shudders* So these pesky little buggers weren't around during the 70's. Why? Because of pollution. I find it amusing that we get to choose between catching the Cuyahoga River on fire and dealing with a mob of midges every spring...
Alright. Tip for not getting those yellow spots in your lawn everywhere Fido pees? Take a watering can out and water the spot for the toilet right after he goes. The reason the grass dies is because of too-high concentrations of nitrogen. Dilute the nitrogen, and the grass doesn't die. Also, you'll lose all communication with your neighbors because you water your dog's excretions.
Professor Zeigler: What are some of the remnants of pollution in the 1970s?
Student: We lit the river on fire!
Professor Zeigler: *calmly* After the glory days of pollution, then.
Other Student: Three-eyed fish?
Although organic farming (no pesticides) produces less icky stuff, it replenishes nitrogen in the soil too slowly. Basically, by being organic, you're making people go hungry because there isn't enough food being produced, you drive ALL the prices up, etc., etc.
In the Crutacious period, carbon dioxide was at about 3,000 ppm. The average global temperature was at about 4 degrees above what it is now. The current ppm (parts per million)? 300. I don't think we should be too worried.
In fact, carbon dioxide isn't really that much of a greenhouse gas. You see, the atoms in carbon dioxide (a carbon and two oxygens) line up in a straight line, like this:
O=C=O
However, for example, a water molecule's atoms (two hydrogens and one oxygen) look like this:
/O\
H/ \H
(upside down v-shaped)
When energy from the sun (infrared radiation... it's like visible light, only the way we perceive it is as heat) hits these molecules, it causes the 'bonds' (the lines between the letters, basically - shared electrons hold the atoms together, but they're drawn like this and referred to as bonds) to 'vibrate'. In the carbon dioxide atom, the oxygens can only go towards and away from the carbon atom. However, the hydrogen atoms in the water go up and down - closer to each other and further away from each other. This absorbs more energy... basically? Water vapor is a better greenhouse gas than carbon dioxide. A lot of molecules are. The only reason it's a concern is because we produce so freakin much of it.
Which brings up the question: if we switch to the kind of fuel that only produces water vapor as a product, wouldn't that only have a negative effect on the environment? Added to that, those cells need /fresh/ water to run, and there's kind of a problem with that, seeing as 1.6 billion people are expected to live where water is scarce in a few years. That's a lot of people.
Following that line of thought: Desalinating water (removing the salt from seawater) leaves the nasty salty stuff behind. What do you do with it? You can't just dump it; that only increases the concentration of salt in whatever you're trying to de-salt, and that could screw up the ecosystem pretty badly, and be very much a step backwards in the whole fresh water needed nao thing. So just filtering the water isn't a good idea either.
What if we used the salt solution as a kind of battery? Like, if you have a low concentration on one side, and a high concentration of salt on the other side, the high concentration side is gonna wanna go to the low concentration, and that movement creates energy. Not sure how much... but it'd be something. We'd have to figure out how to switch out the concentrations. o_o
The Salim witch trials are sometimes blamed on this strange hallucinagory fungus that grows on grain. One time a whole city in France got high off of it and started hallucinating some really freaky crap. So in Salim, the kids ate the bread and then the villagers were like OMG OUR KIDS ARE SEEING THINGS...
>.>
<.<
BURN THE WITCHES!
How do you know that she's a witch?
SHE LOOKS LIKE ONE!
They dressed me in this, it's not me...
SHE TURNED ME INTO A NEWT!
.....
I got better...
Yeah. XD You can see my views on the Salim witch trials.
Well, that's all the nerding from the past few days. I leave this EPICpost now.
20100404
Sunday. 4 April 2010.
Hello, my blog. How are you doing today? I am just dandy.
Well, not perfect. Charles' house has flooded (yaaaaay living in basement), and I missed him leaving, which means that I didn't get to see him and won't for an indefinite amount of time (which sucks). I also just texted Jack a happy Easter. God, I should stop it. It makes me angry/sad/depressed every time I talk to him, but I can't stop. Psychoanalyze time? I feel bad about leaving him so thoroughly. There's a small part of me that wants everything to be the way it was, but when I think about getting back together with him (ignoring the fact that my mom would KILL me and that I'd be cheating on Charles or broken up with him to do so) is actually a bit sickening. I'm not sure I could douse the feeling of being violated. Raped. It was difficult enough right after it happened.
And then the mere mention of cheating on Charles has me shaking. I don't think I could ever do that. I hate the fact that I even wrote about it in the first place. It seems vile, thinking about it. And breaking it off with him entir... no. No, no, no, no, no. No.
*deep breath, let out slowly*
Zee's was closed, so I have another hour before I can eat. No Charles, dear, sweet love of my life. I could pass the time writing sonnets to him... but I'm not feeling a sonnet mood, despite the fact that we were exchanging Shakespeare earlier. I'm... heh. Heh heh. >.>
<.<
Let's see. What did I want to do while I was at my aunt's house? Well, first off, there's that huge shower. There wasn't really a lot of wall space, but there was plenty of room otherwise, and imagining us together in it, with hot, steaming water running between us and our wandering hands, wet hair tangled, pressed against each other...
Showering was quite fun.
And then there was the bed. Now, Jen and I were sleeping in it together so I didn't want to get very raunchy thinking of Charles while I was in it, but now that I'm away... well, there was more than enough room on it to have quite the bit of fun. Plenty of space for foreplay, too. Like - I was thinking something along the lines of walking down the stairs, tugging at his arm with a mischievous smile before stopping and kissing his fingertips, then slowly working my way across his palm, wandering until I reached his wrist (where many, many feather-light kisses would be placed), and then carefully kissing up his arm, trailing my fingers slowly across his skin to his sleeve.
Obviously I don't want to be kissing a shirt, so that item would have to be removed. And then from where I left off - teasing kisses and nips over his shoulder, up his neck to his ear, then back down, across his collarbone... Is it just me, or is it getting a bit warm in here again? ^^;; The rest is up to imagination, of course.
*evil grin*
...daaaaang but I'm sleepy. Hopefully Char manages to get everything important out of the basement. Thank God he, at least, was there. If not, there would be a heck of a lotta damage to take care of. As is, I'm very tempted to ask if he needs help. The only reason I don't is because my idea of helping would be flying out to ND and helping him move stuff, turn off the water main, towel everything down, etc., etc. And especially just after the conversation with his mom, I don't think that would be a good idea.
Whoops. Gasper just called. I should go check and see what he wants.
Before that, though... I think Frankie likes Charles. I'm not sure how much, but definitely more than Jack. And she seemed interested in talking to him. I feel bad that he had to sit through us babbling to each other. Hopefully he didn't get too bored.
Alright. Time to call. Posting. I don't want to post. I don't have much more to say, but I don't want to stop typing because it's a connection to Char and I don't want to stop that connection and... aaaarugh. Damn me for being a fool in love.
Well, not perfect. Charles' house has flooded (yaaaaay living in basement), and I missed him leaving, which means that I didn't get to see him and won't for an indefinite amount of time (which sucks). I also just texted Jack a happy Easter. God, I should stop it. It makes me angry/sad/depressed every time I talk to him, but I can't stop. Psychoanalyze time? I feel bad about leaving him so thoroughly. There's a small part of me that wants everything to be the way it was, but when I think about getting back together with him (ignoring the fact that my mom would KILL me and that I'd be cheating on Charles or broken up with him to do so) is actually a bit sickening. I'm not sure I could douse the feeling of being violated. Raped. It was difficult enough right after it happened.
And then the mere mention of cheating on Charles has me shaking. I don't think I could ever do that. I hate the fact that I even wrote about it in the first place. It seems vile, thinking about it. And breaking it off with him entir... no. No, no, no, no, no. No.
*deep breath, let out slowly*
Zee's was closed, so I have another hour before I can eat. No Charles, dear, sweet love of my life. I could pass the time writing sonnets to him... but I'm not feeling a sonnet mood, despite the fact that we were exchanging Shakespeare earlier. I'm... heh. Heh heh. >.>
<.<
Let's see. What did I want to do while I was at my aunt's house? Well, first off, there's that huge shower. There wasn't really a lot of wall space, but there was plenty of room otherwise, and imagining us together in it, with hot, steaming water running between us and our wandering hands, wet hair tangled, pressed against each other...
Showering was quite fun.
And then there was the bed. Now, Jen and I were sleeping in it together so I didn't want to get very raunchy thinking of Charles while I was in it, but now that I'm away... well, there was more than enough room on it to have quite the bit of fun. Plenty of space for foreplay, too. Like - I was thinking something along the lines of walking down the stairs, tugging at his arm with a mischievous smile before stopping and kissing his fingertips, then slowly working my way across his palm, wandering until I reached his wrist (where many, many feather-light kisses would be placed), and then carefully kissing up his arm, trailing my fingers slowly across his skin to his sleeve.
Obviously I don't want to be kissing a shirt, so that item would have to be removed. And then from where I left off - teasing kisses and nips over his shoulder, up his neck to his ear, then back down, across his collarbone... Is it just me, or is it getting a bit warm in here again? ^^;; The rest is up to imagination, of course.
*evil grin*
...daaaaang but I'm sleepy. Hopefully Char manages to get everything important out of the basement. Thank God he, at least, was there. If not, there would be a heck of a lotta damage to take care of. As is, I'm very tempted to ask if he needs help. The only reason I don't is because my idea of helping would be flying out to ND and helping him move stuff, turn off the water main, towel everything down, etc., etc. And especially just after the conversation with his mom, I don't think that would be a good idea.
Whoops. Gasper just called. I should go check and see what he wants.
Before that, though... I think Frankie likes Charles. I'm not sure how much, but definitely more than Jack. And she seemed interested in talking to him. I feel bad that he had to sit through us babbling to each other. Hopefully he didn't get too bored.
Alright. Time to call. Posting. I don't want to post. I don't have much more to say, but I don't want to stop typing because it's a connection to Char and I don't want to stop that connection and... aaaarugh. Damn me for being a fool in love.
20100403
Saturday. 3 April 2010.
I'm kinda looking forward to my birthday, because Jenny said she was getting me a time turner. Life is amazing.
I'm also kinda exhausted from babysitting today. But that's alright.
Chilling and talking with Charles; posting for the sake of putting in something for today. Maybe I'll scribble later. ^^
I'm also kinda exhausted from babysitting today. But that's alright.
Chilling and talking with Charles; posting for the sake of putting in something for today. Maybe I'll scribble later. ^^
20100402
Friday. 2 April 2010.
Charles,
I made this as a 'present' of sorts, since the weekend is prolly going to be pretty damn long. I know you're going to want to watch it immediately, but... I was kinda hoping... you'd wait at least a bit before you watched it, just so you had something to look at over the weekend until Sunday. ^^;; It's up to you, though. Since it's you that'll be without me. Even though I'll be without you. Okay, it's bedtime. Upload, then bed. Gah. Well, I love you, and that I'm sure of. The rest will come when it comes.
I have no idea what I'm talking about any more. Just - here's the video. XD
I made this as a 'present' of sorts, since the weekend is prolly going to be pretty damn long. I know you're going to want to watch it immediately, but... I was kinda hoping... you'd wait at least a bit before you watched it, just so you had something to look at over the weekend until Sunday. ^^;; It's up to you, though. Since it's you that'll be without me. Even though I'll be without you. Okay, it's bedtime. Upload, then bed. Gah. Well, I love you, and that I'm sure of. The rest will come when it comes.
I have no idea what I'm talking about any more. Just - here's the video. XD
20100401
Thursday. 1 April 2010. Part II.
Your face, your smile, your voice.
You spin me in circles. I know exactly what to expect. The world turns on its head every time you do it. I want to hold you, press myself against you, stay in your arms and never leave. I want to walk with you, laugh with you, cry with you. You give me strength, my own strength. You give me joy, the joy I love to feel. You give me hope each day. Bated breath and quiet anticipation.
This eve I look upon the stars and smile,
for as the stars above do spark and gleam,
so too do I with quiet words beguile
all my thoughts, for to you they do stream.
It's joy, and wonder - things I thought I knew -
but every day I hear them breath does stop,
for I become like cloth with gold wove through,
just like before, yet priceless, diamond-dropped.
To be with you is mys'try yet untold
and every time you laugh I feel time lapse,
for every time, it makes my heart unfold -
you catch me, bring me close, hold tightly clasped.
You have me charmed, and know this now, my love:
on eagles' wings I soar, through you I fly above.
You spin me in circles. I know exactly what to expect. The world turns on its head every time you do it. I want to hold you, press myself against you, stay in your arms and never leave. I want to walk with you, laugh with you, cry with you. You give me strength, my own strength. You give me joy, the joy I love to feel. You give me hope each day. Bated breath and quiet anticipation.
This eve I look upon the stars and smile,
for as the stars above do spark and gleam,
so too do I with quiet words beguile
all my thoughts, for to you they do stream.
It's joy, and wonder - things I thought I knew -
but every day I hear them breath does stop,
for I become like cloth with gold wove through,
just like before, yet priceless, diamond-dropped.
To be with you is mys'try yet untold
and every time you laugh I feel time lapse,
for every time, it makes my heart unfold -
you catch me, bring me close, hold tightly clasped.
You have me charmed, and know this now, my love:
on eagles' wings I soar, through you I fly above.
Thursday. 1 April 2010.
Holy gee wow, only one post today!
Yep yep, everyone stand in awe. The Rachel did not feel the need to post... oh, bloody hell. I need to do laundry. *dashes off*
Okay. Okay, I'm good. Well, today was the best day of my life, because even if Arabic sucked, I got my present from Charles (quite possibly the sweetest thing I have ever gotten in my life, with five times the sentimental value I would have expected, along with the bell, which I have been wearing constantly ever since I opened it, and the internet cable, and the webcam which Gasper is messing around with), and Mary gave me a flower, and I've been knitting Char's present (I've decided it will be a birthday present... and hopefully it'll be done by then. If not it'll be a bleated birthday gift), and I got to yell "Boeing 666" at the top of my lungs today in Arabic, whilst wearing a red cape.
Yes, life is good.
Aaaand mama just called. She talks a looong time.
Really have nothing to say here. Kinda depressing, actually. Not particularly looking forward to spending the weekend with my little cousins, because I don't want to be babysitting all weekend, but eh. It's family. And it'll be nice to see Megs again.
I should really hash out that musical idea I had. It's just kinda floating right now, and I'm in this allergy-induced stupor, which isn't very pleasant.
Charles wants to see the MOST EXCITING BLOG POST IN THE UNIVERSE right now. Soo... /ramble, post.
Yep yep, everyone stand in awe. The Rachel did not feel the need to post... oh, bloody hell. I need to do laundry. *dashes off*
Okay. Okay, I'm good. Well, today was the best day of my life, because even if Arabic sucked, I got my present from Charles (quite possibly the sweetest thing I have ever gotten in my life, with five times the sentimental value I would have expected, along with the bell, which I have been wearing constantly ever since I opened it, and the internet cable, and the webcam which Gasper is messing around with), and Mary gave me a flower, and I've been knitting Char's present (I've decided it will be a birthday present... and hopefully it'll be done by then. If not it'll be a bleated birthday gift), and I got to yell "Boeing 666" at the top of my lungs today in Arabic, whilst wearing a red cape.
Yes, life is good.
Aaaand mama just called. She talks a looong time.
Really have nothing to say here. Kinda depressing, actually. Not particularly looking forward to spending the weekend with my little cousins, because I don't want to be babysitting all weekend, but eh. It's family. And it'll be nice to see Megs again.
I should really hash out that musical idea I had. It's just kinda floating right now, and I'm in this allergy-induced stupor, which isn't very pleasant.
Charles wants to see the MOST EXCITING BLOG POST IN THE UNIVERSE right now. Soo... /ramble, post.
20100331
Wednesday. 31 March 2010. Part III.
Dear Charlesjournal,
Both Gasper and Ian asked what I was blogging about. I told them that I was blogging about how exciting college is. So, to not lie, I'll go on about that for a paragraph. Starting now.
College is exciting for a few reasons. First off, in college, we have a lot more free time. Second, we're surrounded by like-minded people (sometimes). Third, we have access to free food, although getting it is difficult because mama doesn't always cook for us. Fourth, we have to do our own laundry but don't have to clean our rooms (except if our roomies want us to).
The end.
Alright, now that I've taken care of that...
Good morning, my love. I hope you rested well, or at least got more sleep than you did Tuesday night. Go ahead and text me whenever you want, or rather, don't worry about waking me up. I'm not that light a sleeper. <3
And I also hope that you didn't get killed taking Geoff to the airport. Because if that happens, I can promise you that you will have a very, very upset Rachel at your funeral. A very, very upset Rachel who probably would be functioning not at all. ...yes, you're right, doom and gloom are very common in the evenings. v.v
I can't get you out of my head. Well, that's normal. But that comes with very uncontrollable smiling and impatience for summer to get here already, damnit. Just being able to constantly snuggle/nuzzle/cling to you... And then imagining married life. Oh god. Epic. Absolutely epic. I... if I had to describe my thoughts on it, they'd have to be something like this:
Waking up in the morning and kind of wriggling out of bed, getting dressed and coming back to watch you wake up or snuggle a bit or something similar. (maybe insert taking care of the pet(s) here) Just going about doing day-to-day things - having my research sprawled over the kitchen table and you coming up behind me, your chin on my shoulder, and prying me away for Charlestime - figuring out how to cook together, because have you ever watched a couple who's cooked a lot together move around in the kitchen together? It's like some sort of dance. Dance lessons, of course, and spontaneous spinning about the living room or whatever our first apartment house thing has. Quiet humming, laughter, soft kisses... and the evenings where I watch you work at the computer, bleary-eyed, curled up in the blankets, before you eventually cave in to my pathetic meweling and come to bed already...
And surprisingly enough, I'm not blushing right now. Just filled with this strange sense of longing. It's like I can reach out and touch it; it's just beyond reach, so close, and yet so far at the same time. I miss you so much right now.
I love you, Charles. You're my smile and my laughter, the swing in my step and the hum in my mouth. You give me hope, remind me I'm not crazy, keep things in perspective. You're - don't laugh - you're honestly what grounds me. I really do wonder how I ever got so lucky as to be able to say that I know that you're mine, and always will be. Belief in that comes slowly, very slowly, but it is coming.
So good morning, my love, my sweet. I'll talk to you soon. <3
Rachel
P.S. Tiara killed me for shooing you off to bed. I have no regrets.
Both Gasper and Ian asked what I was blogging about. I told them that I was blogging about how exciting college is. So, to not lie, I'll go on about that for a paragraph. Starting now.
College is exciting for a few reasons. First off, in college, we have a lot more free time. Second, we're surrounded by like-minded people (sometimes). Third, we have access to free food, although getting it is difficult because mama doesn't always cook for us. Fourth, we have to do our own laundry but don't have to clean our rooms (except if our roomies want us to).
The end.
Alright, now that I've taken care of that...
Good morning, my love. I hope you rested well, or at least got more sleep than you did Tuesday night. Go ahead and text me whenever you want, or rather, don't worry about waking me up. I'm not that light a sleeper. <3
And I also hope that you didn't get killed taking Geoff to the airport. Because if that happens, I can promise you that you will have a very, very upset Rachel at your funeral. A very, very upset Rachel who probably would be functioning not at all. ...yes, you're right, doom and gloom are very common in the evenings. v.v
I can't get you out of my head. Well, that's normal. But that comes with very uncontrollable smiling and impatience for summer to get here already, damnit. Just being able to constantly snuggle/nuzzle/cling to you... And then imagining married life. Oh god. Epic. Absolutely epic. I... if I had to describe my thoughts on it, they'd have to be something like this:
Waking up in the morning and kind of wriggling out of bed, getting dressed and coming back to watch you wake up or snuggle a bit or something similar. (maybe insert taking care of the pet(s) here) Just going about doing day-to-day things - having my research sprawled over the kitchen table and you coming up behind me, your chin on my shoulder, and prying me away for Charlestime - figuring out how to cook together, because have you ever watched a couple who's cooked a lot together move around in the kitchen together? It's like some sort of dance. Dance lessons, of course, and spontaneous spinning about the living room or whatever our first apartment house thing has. Quiet humming, laughter, soft kisses... and the evenings where I watch you work at the computer, bleary-eyed, curled up in the blankets, before you eventually cave in to my pathetic meweling and come to bed already...
And surprisingly enough, I'm not blushing right now. Just filled with this strange sense of longing. It's like I can reach out and touch it; it's just beyond reach, so close, and yet so far at the same time. I miss you so much right now.
I love you, Charles. You're my smile and my laughter, the swing in my step and the hum in my mouth. You give me hope, remind me I'm not crazy, keep things in perspective. You're - don't laugh - you're honestly what grounds me. I really do wonder how I ever got so lucky as to be able to say that I know that you're mine, and always will be. Belief in that comes slowly, very slowly, but it is coming.
So good morning, my love, my sweet. I'll talk to you soon. <3
Rachel
P.S. Tiara killed me for shooing you off to bed. I have no regrets.
Wednesday. 31 March 2010. Part II
The saga continues...
Oh, drat it. I left my chem folder in my room. I'll have to go get that, or type it out later, or something. Class today was absolutely epic. Not only did Charles text - I really was starting to get worried, was imagining things like him choking to death in his sleep... Anyway, he texted, and he was indeed alive. Plus we were discussing element cycles (the nitrogen cycle, carbon cycle, oxygen cycle, and phosphorous cycle) in class. And I got my test back (B-, not too bad, considering) and realized just how amazing my chem professor is.
Cool nifty fact number 1, discovered in my chem class: natural bacteria are absolutely amazing. Why? They break apart dinitrogen bonds. Okay, whoop-ti-doo. What does that mean? Well, nitrogen in its gaseous state exists as dinitrogen - two nitrogen atoms, bonded with a triple bond. Which means it's really really uber strong. The bond takes around 960 kJ/mol to break. To put that in perspective - lightning is usually the only thing that breaks it. Yeah. You need a lot of energy. Dinitrogen is broken into the separate nitrogen atoms and bonded to hydrogen to create nitrates, ammonia, etc (things very much necessary to life) in factories when there's crazy high pressures and temperatures. But bacteria - simple, little tiny bacteria - can break it down in the human body at normal temperatures and pressures. Pretty neat, huh?
Cool nifty fact number 2, also discovered in my chem class: The environment is not as fragile as people would lead you to believe. The carbon cycle is crazy complex, and carbon dioxide can be absorbed in high quantities by the oceans and by plants (the plants will 'eat' more carbon if more is available). It's like blood. Your blood doesn't get crazy acidic when you drink a lot of lemon juice or soak your hands in bleach, because it's a 'buffer' - it can absorb a certain amount of acid or base (a lot of acid or base) before it actually turns acidic or basic. The environment is the same way. It would take a lot of carbon dioxide to really screw it up.
Cool nifty fact number 3, also also discovered in my chem class: No, my professor is not a secret agent for the Queen. =/
Cool nifty fact number 4, also also also discovered in my chem class: However, my professor has read the Simrillion and the Lord of the Rings, and pwns me in all knowledge of Tolkein. I have a goofy schoolgirl crush on him. One of the guys in my chem class and I gushed about Lord of the Rings after that.
But dear god, I'm tired. Long, hotish day. I just want to talk to Charles, eat, and curl up in the sunlight on the grass. Perhaps I'll just post this, check his blog, and then nyom. And nap. Yes, that sounds like a good plan.
Oh, drat it. I left my chem folder in my room. I'll have to go get that, or type it out later, or something. Class today was absolutely epic. Not only did Charles text - I really was starting to get worried, was imagining things like him choking to death in his sleep... Anyway, he texted, and he was indeed alive. Plus we were discussing element cycles (the nitrogen cycle, carbon cycle, oxygen cycle, and phosphorous cycle) in class. And I got my test back (B-, not too bad, considering) and realized just how amazing my chem professor is.
Cool nifty fact number 1, discovered in my chem class: natural bacteria are absolutely amazing. Why? They break apart dinitrogen bonds. Okay, whoop-ti-doo. What does that mean? Well, nitrogen in its gaseous state exists as dinitrogen - two nitrogen atoms, bonded with a triple bond. Which means it's really really uber strong. The bond takes around 960 kJ/mol to break. To put that in perspective - lightning is usually the only thing that breaks it. Yeah. You need a lot of energy. Dinitrogen is broken into the separate nitrogen atoms and bonded to hydrogen to create nitrates, ammonia, etc (things very much necessary to life) in factories when there's crazy high pressures and temperatures. But bacteria - simple, little tiny bacteria - can break it down in the human body at normal temperatures and pressures. Pretty neat, huh?
Cool nifty fact number 2, also discovered in my chem class: The environment is not as fragile as people would lead you to believe. The carbon cycle is crazy complex, and carbon dioxide can be absorbed in high quantities by the oceans and by plants (the plants will 'eat' more carbon if more is available). It's like blood. Your blood doesn't get crazy acidic when you drink a lot of lemon juice or soak your hands in bleach, because it's a 'buffer' - it can absorb a certain amount of acid or base (a lot of acid or base) before it actually turns acidic or basic. The environment is the same way. It would take a lot of carbon dioxide to really screw it up.
Cool nifty fact number 3, also also discovered in my chem class: No, my professor is not a secret agent for the Queen. =/
Cool nifty fact number 4, also also also discovered in my chem class: However, my professor has read the Simrillion and the Lord of the Rings, and pwns me in all knowledge of Tolkein. I have a goofy schoolgirl crush on him. One of the guys in my chem class and I gushed about Lord of the Rings after that.
But dear god, I'm tired. Long, hotish day. I just want to talk to Charles, eat, and curl up in the sunlight on the grass. Perhaps I'll just post this, check his blog, and then nyom. And nap. Yes, that sounds like a good plan.
Wednesday. 31 March 2010.
GIANT KITTY AT TOP OF PAGE!!! =D
Yes, I was bored last night. Matt (a different one) called last night around 10 while I was in Gasper's room being distracted by a dude building a real lightsaber and asked what the hell we were supposed to do for the assignment due today in CEC. I had forgotten it was due, and therefore immediately jumped to helping so that I could figure out what we were doing as well. Turns out, a lot of the stuff we didn't learn until Calc II, and Matt was only in Calc I and just learning to integrate (which was what we were supposed to be doing in the two problems). So I called Gasper over.
It turned out to be a 20-minute session. Gasper had fun trying to figure it out, and then he explained it to me and I talked until all of a sudden a really easy way to explain it popped into my head and everything made sense. It was one of those Aha! moments. I love those. So yeah, ended up not going to bed till 11, and Char is probably going to kill me for that, but that's alright. It was worth it.
Woke up this morning with only a bit of pain in my back, feeling a bit tired but it's just a "ugh waking up school" sleepiness instead of that bone-deep "I've been getting less than six hours of sleep for the past week" sleepiness. Wearing boots + skirt = win. I have to take a shower. But I figured I'd toss some rambling up in case Char gets himself out of bed and decides to check this... >.>
*dashes back to dorm room*
Yes, I was bored last night. Matt (a different one) called last night around 10 while I was in Gasper's room being distracted by a dude building a real lightsaber and asked what the hell we were supposed to do for the assignment due today in CEC. I had forgotten it was due, and therefore immediately jumped to helping so that I could figure out what we were doing as well. Turns out, a lot of the stuff we didn't learn until Calc II, and Matt was only in Calc I and just learning to integrate (which was what we were supposed to be doing in the two problems). So I called Gasper over.
It turned out to be a 20-minute session. Gasper had fun trying to figure it out, and then he explained it to me and I talked until all of a sudden a really easy way to explain it popped into my head and everything made sense. It was one of those Aha! moments. I love those. So yeah, ended up not going to bed till 11, and Char is probably going to kill me for that, but that's alright. It was worth it.
Woke up this morning with only a bit of pain in my back, feeling a bit tired but it's just a "ugh waking up school" sleepiness instead of that bone-deep "I've been getting less than six hours of sleep for the past week" sleepiness. Wearing boots + skirt = win. I have to take a shower. But I figured I'd toss some rambling up in case Char gets himself out of bed and decides to check this... >.>
*dashes back to dorm room*
20100330
Tuesday. 30 March 2010. Part II.
WARNING. THIS POST CONTAINS NAUGHTY WORDS.
1:32 PM
Currently listening to Gasper play Cave Story on the Wii. It’s rather funny; he sounds like Nick, just repeating “Damnit Damnit Damnit” at the top of his lungs and talking to the game itself. I think that’s how I sound when I’m playing. I just go “Shit shit shit crap DANGIT” or something similar…
“Fuck! Fuckin missles! FUCK!!”
Okay, I’m trying not to die of laughter and it’s not working.
*deep breath*
Let’s see. We’ve got Gasper, Ian, and my twin-ish person Matt in this room at the same time. I get Gasper’s circle chair. And I’ve discovered that I can’t sit on the floor until my back is completely healed. Sat down for about a half hour, lying on my back or sitting up straight, and it took me a good three minutes to stand up because of the pain. And I was in a lot of pain this morning too. Frankie watched me with a confused expression. I didn’t feel like complaining about my back again.
Kinda sad about not getting to talk to Charles much today. Well, it is only one in the afternoon, but he’s busy till… um… late, and I have Arabic just a bit after ‘late’ so I won’t be able to talk with him till pretty late indeed. Which is alright, but I’m starting to tell that I’m falling behind on sleep and it’s close to getting bad. And it’s not even close to finals. Uuurgh. Morning person + night person = [scribbles] + [fail] <-- seemingly proper equation so far
Gasper is attacking the interwebs to figure out what to do next in Cave Story. I just had to untangle myself from his cable. (…that’s what she said?)
Right now, the entirety of the purpose of this post is to put off starting on my Arabic. But that’s only going to work for so long. I’ll keep trying, though. Oh! I can work on my outline! And Gasper is confused. Poor little brother.
List of Gasper-isms, compiled today while he played Hell Level in Cave Story.
“Oh, you son of a whore.”
“There you are. Now you’re here, stupid bitch.”
“Ooooooaaah, mother fucker.”
“Okay. Okay. Okay. Okay. Okay Okay. We’re good so far. We’re good so far. Okay. This is the hard part.”
“Oooh fuck yes. Aha. I am a sexy beast.”
“Must. Abuse. System.”
“I’m shooting effing DUCKS. That is not a good thing.”
Too sleepy to work on outline. Naptime.
1:32 PM
Currently listening to Gasper play Cave Story on the Wii. It’s rather funny; he sounds like Nick, just repeating “Damnit Damnit Damnit” at the top of his lungs and talking to the game itself. I think that’s how I sound when I’m playing. I just go “Shit shit shit crap DANGIT” or something similar…
“Fuck! Fuckin missles! FUCK!!”
Okay, I’m trying not to die of laughter and it’s not working.
*deep breath*
Let’s see. We’ve got Gasper, Ian, and my twin-ish person Matt in this room at the same time. I get Gasper’s circle chair. And I’ve discovered that I can’t sit on the floor until my back is completely healed. Sat down for about a half hour, lying on my back or sitting up straight, and it took me a good three minutes to stand up because of the pain. And I was in a lot of pain this morning too. Frankie watched me with a confused expression. I didn’t feel like complaining about my back again.
Kinda sad about not getting to talk to Charles much today. Well, it is only one in the afternoon, but he’s busy till… um… late, and I have Arabic just a bit after ‘late’ so I won’t be able to talk with him till pretty late indeed. Which is alright, but I’m starting to tell that I’m falling behind on sleep and it’s close to getting bad. And it’s not even close to finals. Uuurgh. Morning person + night person = [scribbles] + [fail] <-- seemingly proper equation so far
Gasper is attacking the interwebs to figure out what to do next in Cave Story. I just had to untangle myself from his cable. (…that’s what she said?)
Right now, the entirety of the purpose of this post is to put off starting on my Arabic. But that’s only going to work for so long. I’ll keep trying, though. Oh! I can work on my outline! And Gasper is confused. Poor little brother.
List of Gasper-isms, compiled today while he played Hell Level in Cave Story.
“Oh, you son of a whore.”
“There you are. Now you’re here, stupid bitch.”
“Ooooooaaah, mother fucker.”
“Okay. Okay. Okay. Okay. Okay Okay. We’re good so far. We’re good so far. Okay. This is the hard part.”
“Oooh fuck yes. Aha. I am a sexy beast.”
“Must. Abuse. System.”
“I’m shooting effing DUCKS. That is not a good thing.”
Too sleepy to work on outline. Naptime.
Tuesday. 30 March 2010.
Heh. Today doesn't really count as Tuesday, it's only half past midnight. But I updated really early yesterday. So yeah.
I'm still listening to Monty Python, ironically. Only it's the Holy Grail instead of random sketches. It's very dark in my room and my back is definitely not happy about sitting up for so long. The fan is on, Frankie is asleep... all in all, a peaceful evening.
Today was, for lack of a better term, wonderful. Nothing in particular happened to make it so lovely - it merely existed in a state of happiness that I guess life has taught me not to take advantage of. I got more than I thought I would done with my outline, managed to work my way through a bit of Cave Story (although I had to stop, since I kept dying and making really loud whiny noises), and got to talk to Charles a heck of a lot.
I'm kind of embarrassed about not thinking through my 'threat' earlier today. I should know better, but somehow I always manage to screw up like that. And I know Char doesn't think anything of it, or maybe he does but I'm assuming he doesn't think anything of the fact that I... I don't know. Hushing. Anyway. It was so strange. The way he pulled me through the thought processes I should have gone through - would have gone through - it reminded me a lot of my mom. I was a bit ashamed of myself, truth be told. But... I know he didn't mean it like that, only did it out of love and concern. And when I say he reminded me of my mom, I merely mean that mom is the only other person who really takes the time to sit down and explain why she's saying what she's saying (even if she does it /after/ she makes some big change...).
I find myself wondering less and less, worrying for smaller periods of thought. Concern over Charles' and my future crosses my mind less and less. I can't - physically can't - question his motives. Every time we have a little 'fumble' like we did earlier today (I'm not even sure if that's an accurate description), I become more and more assured of the fact that he's everything he seems. Well, that he's telling me the truth. I still have trouble believing that he won't just vanish one day, or he'll randomly go "LOL jk I'm really not that amazing" or something like that. People can't love that strongly (even though I have felt it myself, that treacherous side of me whispers), people can't be that firm in their feelings and dedication (and the reason I can't believe that is because I'm still staggering from Jack, albeit in just a few manners). People really can't be that alright with just sitting and watching each other, silent and reveling in the joy of the others' presence. Other people can't want that kind of dedication so early in a relationship.
Sometimes I question myself, though. Am I an idiot for getting so attached so quickly after I had my heart torn out of my chest and crushed under Jack's foot? Shouldn't I learn to withdraw, save myself, protect myself? But the moment I ask that I end up shaking my head. It might be smarter to pull back, but I never said I was smart. I may be used to holding my heart close behind walls, but my nature is to put it out in the open, hand it on a platter to the one I love. Changing that would be changing myself more than I want. And so I trust, and risk getting hurt, and battle with the walls that attempt to crop up. Funny, though. Charles has the natural ability to coax me out. I don't want to hide from him.
I texted Jack today. Told him that I felt bad about being a bitch to him, but couldn't think of any other way to act. He said he was close to going insane from knowing what he had done to me. I... um... I told him to man up already. *rubs at the back of my head, embarrassed* Told him that if he felt so bad he should stop moping already and do something to fix it. Of course he asked me how, and I told him that I had no idea, but he was in possession of brains and a heart. He didn't respond. But... I feel better now. It just feels wrong, acting like a bitch. To anyone. No matter how much they may or may not deserve it. Firm, yes. Annoyed (for brief periods of time) or angry (if it helps them see sense), yes. Bitchy? Accomplishes nothing except resentment. Yet another one of my quirks Charles has to put up with, me scattering rainbows and rose petals. It's how I live, though, as natural as breathing.
Well, time to end this rant. Deep breath, run for the cliff, and leap - sweet, sweet freefall. And maybe I'll figure out how to fly.
I'm still listening to Monty Python, ironically. Only it's the Holy Grail instead of random sketches. It's very dark in my room and my back is definitely not happy about sitting up for so long. The fan is on, Frankie is asleep... all in all, a peaceful evening.
Today was, for lack of a better term, wonderful. Nothing in particular happened to make it so lovely - it merely existed in a state of happiness that I guess life has taught me not to take advantage of. I got more than I thought I would done with my outline, managed to work my way through a bit of Cave Story (although I had to stop, since I kept dying and making really loud whiny noises), and got to talk to Charles a heck of a lot.
I'm kind of embarrassed about not thinking through my 'threat' earlier today. I should know better, but somehow I always manage to screw up like that. And I know Char doesn't think anything of it, or maybe he does but I'm assuming he doesn't think anything of the fact that I... I don't know. Hushing. Anyway. It was so strange. The way he pulled me through the thought processes I should have gone through - would have gone through - it reminded me a lot of my mom. I was a bit ashamed of myself, truth be told. But... I know he didn't mean it like that, only did it out of love and concern. And when I say he reminded me of my mom, I merely mean that mom is the only other person who really takes the time to sit down and explain why she's saying what she's saying (even if she does it /after/ she makes some big change...).
I find myself wondering less and less, worrying for smaller periods of thought. Concern over Charles' and my future crosses my mind less and less. I can't - physically can't - question his motives. Every time we have a little 'fumble' like we did earlier today (I'm not even sure if that's an accurate description), I become more and more assured of the fact that he's everything he seems. Well, that he's telling me the truth. I still have trouble believing that he won't just vanish one day, or he'll randomly go "LOL jk I'm really not that amazing" or something like that. People can't love that strongly (even though I have felt it myself, that treacherous side of me whispers), people can't be that firm in their feelings and dedication (and the reason I can't believe that is because I'm still staggering from Jack, albeit in just a few manners). People really can't be that alright with just sitting and watching each other, silent and reveling in the joy of the others' presence. Other people can't want that kind of dedication so early in a relationship.
Sometimes I question myself, though. Am I an idiot for getting so attached so quickly after I had my heart torn out of my chest and crushed under Jack's foot? Shouldn't I learn to withdraw, save myself, protect myself? But the moment I ask that I end up shaking my head. It might be smarter to pull back, but I never said I was smart. I may be used to holding my heart close behind walls, but my nature is to put it out in the open, hand it on a platter to the one I love. Changing that would be changing myself more than I want. And so I trust, and risk getting hurt, and battle with the walls that attempt to crop up. Funny, though. Charles has the natural ability to coax me out. I don't want to hide from him.
I texted Jack today. Told him that I felt bad about being a bitch to him, but couldn't think of any other way to act. He said he was close to going insane from knowing what he had done to me. I... um... I told him to man up already. *rubs at the back of my head, embarrassed* Told him that if he felt so bad he should stop moping already and do something to fix it. Of course he asked me how, and I told him that I had no idea, but he was in possession of brains and a heart. He didn't respond. But... I feel better now. It just feels wrong, acting like a bitch. To anyone. No matter how much they may or may not deserve it. Firm, yes. Annoyed (for brief periods of time) or angry (if it helps them see sense), yes. Bitchy? Accomplishes nothing except resentment. Yet another one of my quirks Charles has to put up with, me scattering rainbows and rose petals. It's how I live, though, as natural as breathing.
Well, time to end this rant. Deep breath, run for the cliff, and leap - sweet, sweet freefall. And maybe I'll figure out how to fly.
20100329
Monday. 29 March 2010.
My back has decided to begin a rebellion. The KittyRachel is not pleased with this turn of events, and is ready to declare war with various anti-inflammatorys and much bedrest. So far the likely sparks of this disobedience are problems with the sciatica nerve, or really annoying symptom of PMS. Mom and I decided to wait it out, see if it goes away by Thursday, and schedule a chiropractor appointment for next weekend (not this weekend; we're heading down to see my grandparents for Easter, this weekend).
On the plus side, I stole cream cheese last night from the cafeteria buffet thing and bought a bag of bagels. Now I feast on the spoils of war.
Never before has battle been so delicious.
And what better way to rejoice after battle then by watching old Monty Python skits? There is no better way, that's the truth. That's the truth and I shall hear no argument. None!
I keep dreaming about Jack, and it's starting to disturb me. Nothing happens in them beyond hugging that I can remember, but even that is enough. The moment I wake up, I think of Charles. But - I have a feeling it might be because I'm fretting about how bitchy I've been to Jack of late. That and I'm thinking the fall semester might hold advances on his part. Nearly certain, actually. And, irrational though it may be, I'm afraid he'll try to force himself on me. Nothing like rape, but kissing is enough. I don't want that and I hate that I'm thinking it, but... I can't do any differently until my subconscious decides to remember the fact that I am Charles', and Charles is mine. That in itself is more than enough.
Maybe it's the fact that we've never actually physically met that makes it so difficult for me to accept, sometimes. Mind and heart have been given, but body is removed from the equation altogether, and will be until summer. Compared to my last relationship, which was quite the opposite, it's no small wonder. But I'm a patient kitty when need requires it, and in this case, it is very much required. So I wait, and hope Charles decides to stop ringing that damn bell soon because I cannot resist its sweet sound...
On the plus side, I stole cream cheese last night from the cafeteria buffet thing and bought a bag of bagels. Now I feast on the spoils of war.
Never before has battle been so delicious.
And what better way to rejoice after battle then by watching old Monty Python skits? There is no better way, that's the truth. That's the truth and I shall hear no argument. None!
I keep dreaming about Jack, and it's starting to disturb me. Nothing happens in them beyond hugging that I can remember, but even that is enough. The moment I wake up, I think of Charles. But - I have a feeling it might be because I'm fretting about how bitchy I've been to Jack of late. That and I'm thinking the fall semester might hold advances on his part. Nearly certain, actually. And, irrational though it may be, I'm afraid he'll try to force himself on me. Nothing like rape, but kissing is enough. I don't want that and I hate that I'm thinking it, but... I can't do any differently until my subconscious decides to remember the fact that I am Charles', and Charles is mine. That in itself is more than enough.
Maybe it's the fact that we've never actually physically met that makes it so difficult for me to accept, sometimes. Mind and heart have been given, but body is removed from the equation altogether, and will be until summer. Compared to my last relationship, which was quite the opposite, it's no small wonder. But I'm a patient kitty when need requires it, and in this case, it is very much required. So I wait, and hope Charles decides to stop ringing that damn bell soon because I cannot resist its sweet sound...
20100328
Sunday. 28 March 2010.
My internet is not working. I believe it is the curse of Gasper’s room. Ah, well. I’ll get to writing, then. Try 2 at a daily-ish blog, made necessary by the contents of my last blog, which will just make me frustrated, annoyed, and depressed by reading. Not to say that this won’t. I just like the lack of subject matter a bit more, here.
Let’s see. Right now I’m listening to the Children of Eden soundtrack. Have I ever mentioned how much I enjoyed working on that show? It really is a wonderful musical (when performed well, of course). Sometimes I wonder what the hell I was thinking, learning both the clarinet and sax, and switching between them, the flute, the piccolo, and the recorder throughout the entire show. But it was so worth it. I’ve never played the flute with tears streaming down my face before, and I haven’t done it since. There was a brief solo for the flute during Eve’s final monologue (I memorized it and can probably still perform it, actually…) and it has to top the list of most emotional monologue I’ve ever heard, acted by an absolutely wonderful Eve with one hell of a voice, especially for the part of Mama Noah.
/musical!rant
So far, Charles, you’re going to be the only one reading this… so I guess I’m just going to directly address you during it. I hope 7 skeins of yarn is enough for what I have in mind. I hope it’ll be done before you come down to visit during the summer. (I can’t tell you how excited I am about that!) It probably will be, but eh. I can never tell, because I have such random spans of free time.
I probably should start on my story again, get that going. There honestly hasn’t been an inspiration-streak for a while, though. It’s stupid to want to wait for it – because they usually come when I’m too tired to write more than a few pages. Which is depressing, because the inspiration streaks are usually epic.
…this is a very boring blog post. I’m sorry. v.v
Hmmm. I should post what I have on my story or something fun like that. …actually…. If you’ll excuse me, my good sir, I shall be back with linkies later.
======(after linkies are added)===
Yep. I feel smart now. Planning on updating meh story there, but first I'm going to put out an outline. Hopefully I can get that done tonight. Plus all sorts of other random stuff, like religion, magical theory, brief history, etc., etc.
===================================
One more edit:
Charles... I think I might have mentioned that the emotions behind everything were fading a bit, and I was blaming it on PMS. Last night, I said something about barriers around my heart - maybe it was the night before. But... they're gone again. And I can feel everything again, and it's almost stronger than it was before. I never want to lose it. Ever. I want you to know that it always, always will come back. You manage to coax it back. Just by being you.
===================================
Okay, yet another edit. I'm working through the outline and whatnot. But... *deep breath in and out* Wow. I - it - I don't really have words to describe how I feel right now. Realizing that I've hurt Charles that badly in the past... it makes me more determined than before to make sure it never happens again. What stings the most is that I've unintentionally gone against everything I normally stand for - fiercely defending the people I love. Tooth and nail if need be. I let myself slide a bit and end up putting the man I love through what Jack put me through.
However, I've learned everything I can from the last month. And dwelling on it will do no good. I'm two weeks into a new start. A fresh start, with a strong and steady man at my side. And hopefully I'll be able to step back and become the supporting role once more. Dear God, may I be able to step out of the limelight. I dun like it.
Let’s see. Right now I’m listening to the Children of Eden soundtrack. Have I ever mentioned how much I enjoyed working on that show? It really is a wonderful musical (when performed well, of course). Sometimes I wonder what the hell I was thinking, learning both the clarinet and sax, and switching between them, the flute, the piccolo, and the recorder throughout the entire show. But it was so worth it. I’ve never played the flute with tears streaming down my face before, and I haven’t done it since. There was a brief solo for the flute during Eve’s final monologue (I memorized it and can probably still perform it, actually…) and it has to top the list of most emotional monologue I’ve ever heard, acted by an absolutely wonderful Eve with one hell of a voice, especially for the part of Mama Noah.
/musical!rant
So far, Charles, you’re going to be the only one reading this… so I guess I’m just going to directly address you during it. I hope 7 skeins of yarn is enough for what I have in mind. I hope it’ll be done before you come down to visit during the summer. (I can’t tell you how excited I am about that!) It probably will be, but eh. I can never tell, because I have such random spans of free time.
I probably should start on my story again, get that going. There honestly hasn’t been an inspiration-streak for a while, though. It’s stupid to want to wait for it – because they usually come when I’m too tired to write more than a few pages. Which is depressing, because the inspiration streaks are usually epic.
…this is a very boring blog post. I’m sorry. v.v
Hmmm. I should post what I have on my story or something fun like that. …actually…. If you’ll excuse me, my good sir, I shall be back with linkies later.
======(after linkies are added)===
Yep. I feel smart now. Planning on updating meh story there, but first I'm going to put out an outline. Hopefully I can get that done tonight. Plus all sorts of other random stuff, like religion, magical theory, brief history, etc., etc.
===================================
One more edit:
Charles... I think I might have mentioned that the emotions behind everything were fading a bit, and I was blaming it on PMS. Last night, I said something about barriers around my heart - maybe it was the night before. But... they're gone again. And I can feel everything again, and it's almost stronger than it was before. I never want to lose it. Ever. I want you to know that it always, always will come back. You manage to coax it back. Just by being you.
===================================
Okay, yet another edit. I'm working through the outline and whatnot. But... *deep breath in and out* Wow. I - it - I don't really have words to describe how I feel right now. Realizing that I've hurt Charles that badly in the past... it makes me more determined than before to make sure it never happens again. What stings the most is that I've unintentionally gone against everything I normally stand for - fiercely defending the people I love. Tooth and nail if need be. I let myself slide a bit and end up putting the man I love through what Jack put me through.
However, I've learned everything I can from the last month. And dwelling on it will do no good. I'm two weeks into a new start. A fresh start, with a strong and steady man at my side. And hopefully I'll be able to step back and become the supporting role once more. Dear God, may I be able to step out of the limelight. I dun like it.
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