Letters.

I love getting letters in the mail. It very rarely happens but when it does, it freaking makes my week. I am a very sentimental person. I keep stuff. I make scrapbooks. Hell, I'm currently working in four different scrapbooks. I just love to keep little things to look back on and think about on days that it seems like there is just no joy to be had.

I have been thinking about composing some letters to people recently. I'm thinking about just letting my emotions pour out to people, beyond this blog that no one reads. I have been thinking how wonderful it would be to have everyone in my life know just how much they mean to me. I never want to think about this, but if something terrible were to happen, would the people that are closets to me know just how much of an impact that had upon my life?

So there has now officially been another project added to me already lengthy summer to-do list. I want to compose letters to everyone that has impacted me, just to let them know that at some point in their life, their presence and their advice has helped someone. Sometimes, that little piece of gratification is all someone needs to feel like their time here has been well spent.

------
On a different note. There is not a day that goes by that I don't consider dropping out of college and going to find my career in culinary arts. However, I know I'm good at PR. I'm good at what I do and I need to get my degree. But I dream so often of that little bakery or coffee shop I want to run one day...


dreams...

It's Killing Me, Killing You

"I know I've been stupid and don't have a reason, but I'm trying not to ruin the one thing I believe in. You. It's killing me, killing you."

I have officially fallen to pieces. I had a dream about a month ago that I was a glass doll knocked from a shelf and shattered. I just played it off as a weird dream caused by eating something weird before bed. Little did I know I would feel exactly like that doll a month later. Broken, in pieces, on the floor.

I feel like so much is piling on me that I cannot control anything. Even down to small tasks like changing out laundry or folding clothes takes me hours to even muster the energy to complete. I've let myself and my relationships fall apart. I've hurt the one thing that has ever been truly good and stable in my life. I cannot even live with myself right now. I hate everything and everything I have done.

I need to fix a lot about myself if I ever want to have the future I daydream about. I need to take charge and also let go and let God lead me on the correct path. I need to handle things one at a time and slowly but surely tackle my to-do lists in my self improvement journal so that I can be there person he deserves. I need to be better. If not just for him, then for myself. I need to find my life again. I need to find myself. I've gotten lost along the way and everything has crumbled on top of me. I feel like a candy wrapper in the bottom of a trash can. Empty of everything sweet and good, just forgotten about and buried under everything else.

From this moment on I believe this blog will serve as my place to vent about my problems. I need a place to go to just type without thinking what it sounds like, who will be reading it, and why I am up at 2 am doing it in the first place. I just need a break. I need some time to set things right. I am hoping by tomorrow night I can start to feel better and get back to stable so I can be there for him and help him feel better. I hate seeing the hurt in his eyes. I hate seeing him anything but happy. I would give up anything and everything just for the chance to see him smile and laugh again. To be so carefree and in love like we used to be. I need that. He needs that. But he needs things from me first in order to feel that way.


I will stop at nothing to give him what he needs. I love him and need him and know I can beat this. We can beat this.

She Never Compromises, Loves Babies and Surprises...

I've had a rough day. Simply put. Highly understated. Today has sucked sucked sucked sucked.

But I'm not going to rant about that here.

I was playing on my phone the other day and was trying to think of a ringtone that would be my basic, go-to. One I could keep on there for ages and never change and it would still be relevant and people would be like, "oh that's katie's phone."

In other words..I was really really bored.

I tried to think of a song that always described me. I went through every song on my ipod, in my itunes library, and on my pandora stations and honestly could not think of a single one that really fit me that would always be relevant.

Then I remembered Meet Virginia.

I love this song because it talks about how off-beat and quirky and a little crazy this woman is, but the man singing the song loves her and can't get enough of her. He states all the odd things she does and how they all make up a piece of her that he loves.

I think that song fits pretty well to my description and also to how Shaun loves me. I can be a little crazy at times and moody and weird and yet, miraculously, he still loves me. He is the one person I can make a joke about a Pokemon training montage and instead of rolling his eyes and thinking I'm weird, he loves me for it. I couldn't ask for a more perfect man. He loves me for who I am and helps me feel truly comfortable in my own skin. I love him so much for that and can only hope I do the same for him.

I'm so glad I found my fellow dork. :)

Love in All Forms

Last night was easily one of the greatest nights I've ever had.

He came down after work and brought me Italian food, which I had been craving for days. He also went out of his way to pick up a bottle of wine for us too even though he hates wine. We sat outside on the balcony and just enjoyed the warm weather and each other's company as we ate. He made the usual dorky jokes that I fell in love with him for and he made me feel so pampered and loved. He really went out of his way to show me how he felt. He really made me feel special.

Dinner was great and romantic. He rubbed my feet as we talked about our days and our future together, and we just relaxed. I loved that side of us. I loved just sitting there, fully focusing on each other, and just sharing a moment together.

Later on we piled up in bed and set our fantasy teams, exchanged some smack talk, watched an episode of one of our new shows and played a little pokemon. As I laid there I thought about how I loved this part more than the romantic dinner and wine. This was the real us. Piled up with our electronics being super dorky but still madly in love with each other.

Any couple can get dressed up and go out to some dimly lit restaurant and have the greatest night ever. But it takes a couple that truly, deeply loves each other and wants their relationship to thrive to just lie around in bed together being complete dorks after that romantic dinner and feel fully comfortable and still madly in love.

I'm so glad we're the dorks that we are. :) I wouldn't have it any other way.

Its 3AM and I Must Be Lonely

I keep having nightmares. I don't know why, but I do. I keep having this image over and over again of this figure taking him away from me, and just laughing. It almost seems as if it is rubbing it in my face that it was so easy to steal him away. Like he was never committed to me in the first place.

It terrifies me.


However, amongst the nightmares, I did have one dream I adored. I wanted it to go on forever. I wanted it to be real. I wanted to wake up and see him there, and see the rings, and see everything I saw in that dream. I saw white, and blue, and his smile, and flowers, and cake, and his hand holding mine, and him shaking my father's hand. It wasn't a steady flow of events, but more like snapshots of moments in my head. I heard his laugh and saw his friends. I saw his smile as he kissed me and then I woke up......alone.

I'm so tired of being haunted by my dreams and then slapped in the face by reality.

All I Ever Wanted.

I haven't written anything in awhile simply because I have been busy and feeling uninspired to write anything other than papers about ethics in the studies of mass media. But hey, that's the life of a college student for you.

This weekend something terrible happened. I'm not going to go into juicy details, but just know that I had never felt so betrayed and hurt in all my life. He is the one man I have ever fully, completely trusted; and he betrayed me and that trust. I had never been so angry with him. So hurt. So...ashamed.

I wanted to scream. I wanted to cry. I wanted to hit him and throw things. I actually did some of those things and in retrospect, he still deserved it. He betrayed me. He played me for a fool. He made me feel like I wasn't enough. Like I wasn't good enough. Like he needed more than just me. Or worse, like he wanted someone else and didn't want me at all.

I did what I normally do with arguments happen. I shut down. I have a really long history of severe panic attacks and since I have been off my anti-depressant and anti-anxiety meds for a little over a year now, I didn't really want to risk it. I stepped away from the argument. I sent him to his apartment and I went to dinner with my best friend. She always knows how to fix things. She always knows what to say to either inspire me to fix things or how to just get my mind off of things in general. She is always there for me. I love her for that.

I spilled my guts to her. I told her everything that had happened and she naturally took my side. She wanted to get revenge. She wanted me to never talk to him again. She wanted me to move on. She wanted me to be done with the rat.

She then saw how hearing that killed me. She saw the pain I felt at the mere thought of never seeing his eyes light up again. Or never seeing his smile. Or hearing his laugh. Or getting one of his incredible hugs. She saw that pain, and changed her tune. She told me to do whatever my heart was telling me to do, but warned me against falling for the same thing I have fallen for time and time again.

I drove around for a bit after that dinner. I needed time to think to myself. I remembered a story my mom told me when I was little. My dad had done something similar and I she recalled how badly it hurt her and ruined her trust in him. I asked her why she bothered to stay with him, and she replied, "Because your father is a stupid, stupid man. But I love that stupid, stupid man. And love, real honest love, love that is supposed to happen, can make it through anything."

That was the one thing that made up my mind.

The only reason I felt so hurt was because I fully and completely trusted him with everything I was. I'm usually not that trusting, but there was something about him that I just knew would never hurt me. I knew that in order to trust someone that much, I had to love him an immense amount.

He has changed so much from the time before. He treats me like I'm the only one in the world for him. He compliments me, he tells me how he feels, he takes care of me when I need him, he loves me, he cherishes me, and he works with me on any problem we might have instead of getting mad and leaving. He is truly, honestly trying. Therefore, I know he loves me. I can see it in the way he looks at me. When he looks at me like that, I feel like I'm the only woman on the face of this earth and I feel invincible. I feel like I could do anything I wanted to when he looks at me like that.

I know things are going to be hard sometimes. I know things aren't always going to be perfect and happy. But I also know that love is both the good and the bad. For better or for worse. You take them both and grow as a couple through that. And I know that with him, I am completely willing to do that. He is the love of my life and I want nothing more than to wake up one morning when I'm 80 and see him there with me. He always makes me smile. He always brightens my day. He always makes me feel loved and happy. He will be my only one. He is it. The one. My everything.

I'm still on eggshells about the situation that happened. But he has been trying to prove himself to me over the past two days and he really has. I just need this to keep up and I need to know that it will never happen again. I need to know that I can have faith and trust in him again.


I need to know that I'll get my happily ever after with the one man I want it more than anything in the world with.

I Get A Funky High From A Yellow Sun

I wish the real world would just stop hassling me....

It is kinda funny sitting here on my bed in an empty apartment, 100 miles away from home and any type of "comfort zone," thinking about my childhood. I guess it was relatively normal. Nothing really strange happened. Nothing too tragic. I had some obscure family issues, but other than those minor setbacks, I guess I had a typical childhood.

So this arouses the question in me: If my childhood was so normal, why is my adulthood so strange?

It feels weird to be 21. It feels weird to be almost done with college. It feels weird to be thinking about grad schools and careers. It feels weird to be thinking about marriage and kids. It feels weird to know that one day, I'll be old.

I remember being 6 and playing in the yard with my father's dog, Reebok. She was an older St. Bernard and was blind in one eye and completely deaf. I asked my father how old she was, and he said that in human years, she was 16. He said in dog years that's almost 100. I remember being so amazed that something could be 16 years old. I thought that was just the oldest thing in the world to me. I looked at the graying muzzle and hazy eyes of my father's best friend, and vowed to never turn 16 if that's what it looked like.
Two days later, Reebok had a massive doggy stroke and had to be put down.
Cue the first time I ever saw my father cry.

I was so blindsided by my first experience with death. There was something about it that confused me, yet there was also something about it that struck up a morbid fascination inside of me. I wanted to learn more about it. I wanted to be around it. I needed to know how this death thing worked and why it had to happen.

I found myself asking friends and family members what death meant to them. Some answered with it meant they got to go to heaven. Some answered with it meant they got to go on a little vacation and would see everyone again someday. Some answered with it meant they no longer got to see everyone, but they could always watch them and guide them along the right path.
They all sugar coated the hell out of death for me.

I was an innocent little 6 year old, asking questions most 50 year olds weren't even brave enough to ask.

What is death? What happens when we die? What does death mean?

Is death the ending or just the beginning? How are we so sure of an afterlife? We are told to blindly believe in the faith of Jesus Christ and a "heaven" (or some other form of an afterlife. i.e. purgatory or hell), but does anyone really have solid, scientific proof of there being an eternal life after death?

The open-endedness of those questions scares the bejeezus out of me.

I've experienced more death in the past 6 months of my life than I have in the past 21 years of life combined. It seemed to be almost a domino effect. I've heard of people who have been married for long periods of time passing away within days of each other simply because of old age and the alleged love story ending of how they couldn't bear to live without their significant other, but this is getting ridiculous.  Is my family really that closely related that one death has the power to trigger more?

Or do triggers on guns have the power?

I've always understood natural deaths. I've never understood suicides though. How can one person be so miserable that they want to leave this world behind? Do they not take joy in sunny days? Warm showers after work? Coffee? Books? Fantasy sports leagues? Anything? Can one person be so truly, deeply miserable that honestly not a single thing on this entire planet makes them happy? Do we, as humans, really have the ability to feel that intensely?
....I guess we do.

I'd never commit suicide. Just let me state that. This is in no way a suicide related post. (I hate messes, therefore its just not a smart option.) But lately I have been thinking a lot about death. I have had nightmares at least once a night and in each one someone else from my life dies. It started off small, with just a pet hamster I had when I was eight. Then a friend. Then a distant relative. Then my boss. Then my older brother. Then....who knows. I've been too terrified by these dreams to sleep anymore. They come to me almost like visions of the future....and it really bothers me.

The ironic part of thinking about death so much is that its literally killing me. I'm exhausted from the lack of sleep, delirious, and cannot focus on anything longer than ten minutes.

I'm honestly worried about myself.

Something's gotta change. And soon.

I'm hoping that blogging about this and getting the thoughts out of my system might help. I know its a morbid post and not the funnest read, but it helps me. Besides, this is why I started this blog in the first place. Inner growth and personal identification. So I got it out of my system and just downed three tylenol pm....so let's hit the lights and see how this goes...