It seems Xanga has enabled customization of their layouts. I got my header style back (gave the place a new title, too) and was able to fix the font size that somehow shrunk in the shuffle. The theme still doesn’t look like it used to, but much closer now.

Things got worse for Tiny… The fact that she got diabetes so severely and so suddenly caused her to have an accelerated case of cataracs…. She’s already having trouble seeing, as it has gotten wide already, and we were told there was nothing we could do… That she’d be completely blind…

I keep praying that God will spare her another strife and give her back her eyesight, but I find myself adding to every praying for him to only do it if it won’t cost her anything else. If it has to be her sight or something worse, then leave her sight as is. I’m scared asking for her sight might bring about something even worse and so I keep emphasizing to not grant it to her if it comes at a cost for something worse….

Because we can try to keep her happy and I’ve been reading online about training her on voice commands so that she could go on walks safely, but if anything worse happens I don’t know if we’ll be able to help her through it…

It was a huge reality check about her age and mortality, though… One that I’d been childishly ignorant of until now… I had just always believed she’d be with me… I’d move out and she’d be there alongside… That I wouldn’t see her pass in my lifetime…

Oh, some of you may have raised eyebrows about that, seeing as how a human’s lifespan is longer than a dog’s. I said that and believed that because ever since I was a kid I just never saw myself living for that long. When I was in middle school I genuinely believed I would never see High School because surely the Rapture would happen by then or I’d be hit by a car or something. (Ironically, I was half-right about the car. I was in middle school when my family got the brunt of a head-on collision that involved three other cars [not including the drunk driver]).

Then in High School I didn’t think I’d make it all the way through college because I’d be attacked or killed somehow.

And now I can’t even see myself making it to my late thirties because I have another suspicion of getting hit by a car.

So because I’ve always believed I’d die young, I always believed Tiny would be there and I would never see her go…

Now I have to face the reality that I may very well see her pass… God… I don’t know how on Earth I’ll get through that… She’s been my only solid ground for years… My one constant…

I can’t even think about that now…

 

As for myself, don’t ask why I keep thinking I’m going to die. I honestly don’t know what to tell you. I don’t know why or how I started thinking that I’d never make it to old age, or even why I still don’t believe it…

But it’s still this fear of mine. I still feel like I’m going to die… I can’t explain why…

I just pray that that instinct isn’t as accurate as the ones I’ve had in relationships. Because every time I’ve had a bad feeling in my stomach during a relationship, within weeks there was either bad news (such as infidelity) or I was dumped. Every time.

 

The only bit of good news we’ve had all year is that I finally got a job. At a library no less. I’ve always wanted to work in a library, and I gotta say, even the “tedious” or “boring” tasks that aren’t anyone’s favorite on the staff, I still love. I love being in that building and being surrounded by books all day. The only thing I’ve disliked so far is working the Children’s Department. Because, being a place dedicated for kids, all the shelves are kid-friendly….as in SUPER low to the ground. So when I have to re-shelf books, I’m stuck between having to kneel or crouch every other minute or waddling around on my knees (and STILL having to bend my spine). It gets to be very painful, especially when a crowd moves through and you’re left with 20+ books to put away because parents don’t do crap about their children’s craziness.

But other than that, I love everything about the job, and I’m just happy to be there. I’d been job searching library jobs for years and NOTHING. So I was so grateful that I was given a chance for this one (especially since I have no formal library experience).

 

I’m getting better too. Still have a bad day every once in a while, but I’m getting stronger about it (thus the new title). I think I’ve finally entered the “I’m just frikkin’ tired of this crap” phase. That, and I have more important things to worry about. Like not screwing up at work, and training Tiny to use her ears and nose to get around. And to desperately try to keep her depression at bay.

Compared to that, guys that don’t give reasons for why they hurt you doesn’t seem as important.

 

I will say I miss our friendship though. He was one of my best and closest friends, and still is in my heart, but I haven’t seen him in months and most of the time I don’t even get replies to my text messages (and I’ve been avoiding texting unless I legitimately had something to say/share/ask, or three+ days had passed without a friendly hello).

And that hurts. He once said he still wanted to be a part of my life and hoped I’d be a part of his (as friends) but all of this makes me wonder if he no longer feels that way. I mean I figured we wouldn’t be hanging out watching old movies anymore once he started dating, and I respect that since I’d be uncomfortable with my boyfriend hanging out alone with some other chick let alone an ex (still hate that word), so that part I knew was going to go, but not even speaking (barely)? Really?

You’d think he would have found something worth holding on to, especially since we confided so much in each other, but actions speak louder than words…

 

For anyone who’s curious, my work schedule for the entire month of November is Tuesday-Saturday. So I have every Sunday and Monday off, and I actually get out of work at 6 PM on most days. Please hit me up if your respective schedules allow for any hang outs, because I miss everyone. I get to play with Jerrick once in a while on FFXIV, so that softens the sting of not having actually seen them in so long (plus they always answer their texts, just saying). But I’d still love to see them too.

And I know money is tight all around. If I understand the pay schedule right, I actually won’t be paid until the 15th, so even though I’m working full-time hours, I’m not seeing a dime of that for a while still.

(On the plus side, I’ve got Vision insurance now :) ).

Well, I think I’ll stop here. I still have to make/eat breakfast and I gotta figure out what Tiny is comfortable doing to start her training.

Later, all.

We were all hanging out at the beach, the group of us, and were back into our jeans and shirts to eat indoors at the bar/lounge place the hotel had. Me, Jaunae, Derrick, Justin, Kathy (she was up getting a drink at the moment), and even Dafne (she was making her way inside after participating in a contest outside — In hindsight, the fact that she was there and speaking/laughing with me should have been a clue).

We had a round booth. Jaunae, Kathy (back with a drink), and I were at one side and Derrick and Justin were at the other. I was looking out the window watching Dafne a couple floors below me make her way back inside; the two of us making faces at each other and laughing. Jaunae and Derrick were across from each other taking up the aisle ends of the booth, so there was no one between Justin and I, just empty booth space.

I throw my body away from the window, laughing, having been grossed out by a dirty face Dafne made. Justin and everyone is laughing with me, but his laugh is what draws me in. I scoot/half-crawl (I was really laughing) down the booth seat towards him and he lifts his arm as I do.

I get there and he wraps his arm around me immediately, naturally, as if it was the most casual thing in the world. I don’t think a second thing of it, and we’re both still laughing. His arm gives me a squeeze and he kisses my shoulder the way you’d peck a kiss on the cheek. Smiling so wide he says, “I love you,” and turns back to the rest, laughing at the new jokes.

I’m beaming and my heart is racing and skipping, and my face hurts from smiling.

And I blink and suddenly remember.

And my heart panics.

The smile drops from my face and my eyes blink rapidly and I look at his face. He’s still there. Still laughing. Still smiling. His arm is still holding me close.

My heart is pounding. Real? Is this real? I keep blinking but everyone is still there. I still feel the leather of the booth, the few grains of sand on my jeans and seat from hundreds of beach-goers going in and out of the bar. I still feel the warmth of his body beside me and hear his laugh ringing as Kathy (and I could still hear Kathy and them) told another joke.

Real… This is… This is really…

And I look to him, no longer blinking, and I watch his mouth move and see his eyes dart from one person to the next as he follows the conversation. I had to ask. My heart was fluttering… ‘Do you?’ I had to ask…

My mouth forms the first word–

And I wake.

 

I hadn’t blinked, but like the flick of a light switch, everyone was gone. The booth was gone. He was gone.

I’m alone in my room. My things littered around me, and an asleep Tiny breathing quietly.

I was alone.

And I knew.

And I remember her.

I sit up and look about me, and my eyes fall to my hands. The smallest trace of the sensation of sand finally disappears…

It wasn’t real.

 

Of course it wasn’t real.

 

I curl up into a ball, bury my face into my pillow

 

and sob.

 

 

I should’ve known.

Being honest with myself sucks, but it’s something I’ve been trying to do more often. I lied to myself so many times, especially after we moved down here, that I fooled myself into believing so many things… I may not be able to lie to others (or at least people I love) very well, but I’m a master at doing it to myself. Otherwise I would have realized how miserable I was for over half of my life.

I’ve fallen back into that misery, but now that I’m admitting to myself it’s there it’s a little better than living in the denial.

There are other things I’m being honest to myself about. I wish I wouldn’t, I wish I could just lie because it’d be much less painful, but I’m tired of lying — at least to myself. If I have to keep masks for everyone else I need someone to know the truth, and it might as well be me.

I keep thinking back to that women’s retreat I took with our old church. The experience I had was incredible, but I somehow managed to lose my way again anyway. Most likely because of the lying. I want to go back to a church, but I truly dislike the process of finding one. Large churches make me feel too detached, but smaller churches are hard to walk into because you’re instantly spotted as the visitor and EVERYONE tries to welcome you and shake hands and the preacher makes you wave or stand during the announcements for a massive welcome and it’s just– I don’t want that attention. It comes from a kind and loving place, I know, but having so much attention at once feels a little fake to me (even though I know that’s not the intention) and makes me feel like they’re all just trying to impress me (which I know isn’t true). It makes it harder to decide whether the service is my style or not because I suddenly feel on display or like I’m watching an act. I want to just go in unnoticed, enjoy the service unfiltered, and see for myself if it makes me feel like it’s my place. El Faro used to feel that way for me… It hurt to lose that.

I visited a couple churches of family members or friends-of-family, but I haven’t felt connected or right in any of them. I don’t like visiting churches of people I know because I feel like I may offend them when I don’t choose it…

I remember being so happy when I visited churches with Justin because we were both the visitors in each so there was no risk of offending each other, but they were all so large that I didn’t feel connected to any of them — despite the lovely services.

I didn’t just lose a boyfriend when things ended…

I’ve all but lost my faith…

 

I feel utterly alone.

 

Sometimes I can’t even pray…

 

So I sit in the quiet and peel off the lies one by one.

And whenever I’ve had enough of truth…

I lose myself in meaningless video games.

 

I’m still trying to write. I didn’t manage to make anything for this month’s Writer’s Group, but hopefully I will for next month. I should explain, last month I found out that the library downtown has a Writer’s Group that meets once a month and they workshop each other’s work, and that it was open to everyone. I found out to late to make it last month, couldn’t write anything for this month, but am desperately trying to get something done for next.

 

Yancy found God again…

 

I’m still drowning.