There’s a change in the air. There’s something that is happening. There is something that just goes and goes. There is time ticking away.

Change.

It is happening. It is going. It is healthy.

There is a change and I am happy for it. I am happy to know that things aren’t stuck in the past and that there is forward movement.

Drifting away, in and out of your memories and soon I’ll be gone in the way that I should be gone. No more pining, no more hoping. I will be just me and you will be just you. There is a change and I am happy for it.

Stuck in the past. Stuck on me. Those are things that should not be the case and just focus on what is. What is here. What is now.

I am really glad to hear that you are moving on. I am really glad that you aren’t thinking about me anymore. I am just really glad, because I really did feel bad for what I’ve done and I’m not the type of person that anyone should ever put such investment in.

It was not my heart to hurt, but it was shattered by me and I am ridden with guilt. But….c’est la vie.

Moving on. Living life. Going out. Partying. Being with friends. All things that are good, all things that I wish for you to do, and it seems that you are. I hope that you are truly happy right now and things are getting better for you.

Eventually, maybe we’ll get in touch again. I know it is up to me to reach out, and hopefully one day, I’ll be able to; to reach out and not be a enemy, but a friend. Hopefully I’ll be able to do that.

* * *

On my mind, in my head, are just clouds and clouds of thoughts, regrets, happy things, and just life in general. All things that cloud my head that I dwell on because I’m just that type of person that dwells on everything and anything. From the minute to the expansive. Everything.

From life lessons learned, unlearned, to the hope and desires and the I don’t know of the future that is just moments away and yet so far away.

What is to come of me? What is there for me? What am I to do?

I tell myself constantly in this blog and in my life in general not to be stuck and just move on and live life and focus on the here and now. I have done that…for the most part, but there are times when my mind does wander to the past and evaluate things with the hindsight-twenty-twenty that we’re all so familiar with and just wonder….Did I make the right decisions?

I know it was just last week where I said that I live and die by my decisions. There are no regrets. There aren’t…well, not yet. Maybe there are regrets, but I’m just the type of person that knows that the decision is made, what’s done is done, and that I can’t go back in time to change it anymore. I can’t do anything; it’s out of my hands. I just have to live with the decisions I make and make peace with that choice.

It’s me, all me.

There are just so many distractions that are pounding away in my brain that I just find it hard to focus and just do anything that is worthwhile or anything that I need to do or have set my mind to do. I have reach this state of apathy and a general ennui of blahness that just lingers on and on until that moment of motivation that strikes me and I’ll do only a split second of work before the ickiness plagues my ambitions again.

But there are just sometimes where I power through, try to keep busy, and just sit down and punish myself and just do. Sit and do.

I punish myself in other ways.

Again, there was a recent change in the air and I told my friend about it. She asked if I was sad and I told her no. I’m not sad. Was I lying?

She said, “that’s awfully mature”

It is mature, but what other way is there to be about it but to be mature. What other way? It doesn’t make me sad to know that she’s moving on. Again, I’m glad, happy to know that she’s moving on and that she is able and strong enough, as I have known her potential to be, to pull herself back together.

Yes, it is mature. I have to be. I was the one that made the decision that led us to be where we are at today. I was the one that made things difficult and ended things. I was the one. I have to take the responsibility and own up to my actions and be mature about it. There is no reason for me to be sad about it. None. All I can do is to own up to it. There is no point in holding onto something that I made happen. I let things go and there is no point in latching on and wish that she would just not move on till the end of our lives.

That’s fucked up. It’s selfish to want that. I’m not that type of person. She’s moving on. It’s a joyous thing for her. There is nothing sad about it. I have to be mature. It was my choice.

But am I sad?

I’m not going to lie. There were days that I didn’t think about her as I found a new fixation or I was just so focused on the job at hand to think about her. But recently, as things slowed down, I’ve been thinking about her more and more. Maybe it is this change that brought about my fevered contemplation of all things us and what I did or maybe it is just around that time where it generally hits me and I just focus on it. I’m not sure, but I’ve been thinking about things more and more.

Looking back at all the times we spent together. Looking back at everything, the good, the bad, the good and the good. Everything.

It just makes me realize as much as I hate giving up my space, as much as I am such an individual, so independent, I do actually miss being in a relationship. I miss having my companion by my side to experience things with, even though they are small and insignificant daily mundane trivial things. I do miss it.

I miss having that person to hold. I miss having a sweaty palm mashed up with my palm. I miss the tender soft kisses. I just miss the acts of being in a relationship.

I see my shortcomings as a man. I see my shortcomings as a man who has very little experience in being in a relationship and don’t know the ins and outs of actually being in a relationship. I see that I did take things for granted and I do see that I’m a very strong person with very strong opinions of how things, how my life should be.

Lessons learned. Lessons unlearned.

Maybe it was my fault that things ended so badly. Maybe I should have been more communicative about everything. Would that have mattered? Would that have ended things on a brighter note? Would it have?

I don’t know. Things I do ponder nowadays from time to time. The dreaded what ifs…but again, things are all said and done. No going back. No turning back. Only forward moving, forward thinking.

Thinking ahead. Looking ahead.

This place I am at is a familiar place. This general blahness of ennui. Borderline.

What is to change? What is to happen? Why this dwelling?

It happened before as I just stated. The three month mark of just things happening when I just reach that sense of blahness and doubt the decisions I made. At that time, I was able to fix things and move on by focusing on something else. Family.

Will I have that to lean on now? Or will it be something different now? I don’t know. I just have to wait and see, wait and see.

It seems that is what I’ve been doing lately. Wait and see, wait and see.

* * *

Obsessing and stalking of all things. Hoping for the best on both fronts. Following up and seeing what they are up to on all fronts.

Things that I know I am doing and things that I know I need to stop and eventually well.

And mostly it is because with time, I will forget and make it easier for me to move on. With time, things change and I’ll be able to move on as the time of mourning is over.

I do admit on certain fronts, things are easier to laugh at now. I have made many decisions in my life and many that I do know are right, but I do doubt them.

I spoke to many about them and I hear different sides of the same coin. They all sound fair and makes sense to me but deep inside there is only that one side that I hear and feel comfortable with and I just punish myself and doubt myself about it.

It is natural as I am the over analyzer, thinking everything in and out and thinking about things through and through, spinning it around and evaluating things even more.

I don’t think I’ll ever change on that front for that is who I am. I am just that person; the introverted person that just over think things.

Do I ever do anything on impulse? It just seems that times I do and other times I don’t.

I think things through and through in my head for such a long time and when it comes time to act in a way it just seems so out of the blue, but at times, it just feels so methodical and planned out and deliberate.

What is to come of me and my future?

* * *

Maybe I just need to succumb to this illness that I am infected with. Maybe I should just embrace it. Maybe it is the reason why I’ve been such a sickly pickle this whole year. It has been the worst year health wise for me. Maybe the toxic fretting, dwelling, obsessing is just finally getting to me.

I should just stop. Stop it. Kill it.

What is it that I need?

I think I should just finally do what it is that I keep telling that friendly friend that is having her life sucked out by the symbiote that is within her. I should just stop dating or think about being in a relationship and just end up alone.

Of course she rolls her eyes, or I would assume so as she types it out, and says whatever. It’s a old tune that I sing, but never followed through.

Even the blazing red head that I hang out with time to time even says whatever as I scream my anthem of “I’m done, I’m done. No more dating”.

Maybe I should just be done and not think of it.

I do know that I like my space. I like my independence and to be on my own, not having to compromise on all things me. Maybe this is for the better. It’ll be easier.

Dash away my hopes and dreams and yearnings for a family of my own. My own family could or will understand. I do have a son, a furry son, but still my son none the less. IT will work out for me. It will.

To be single, to be me, who I am now for the long long term. I think it is possible. I think I will actually be happy with it. I think it will work…..

Maybe I’m just kidding myself…maybe I’m not. But I guess we will always have to wait and see. Wait and see.

Taking time away from that front. Just taking time and keeping to myself. Just keeping time and stop being playful. Keep to myself, turn inward and just focus on the things that I am known to focus on from time to time and that is my work. Just turn inward and become the boring person that I know I am.

Just turn inward.

Maybe I should just finally do it and not focus on the opposite gender. Just be on my own. I think it is for the best, right now.

So. Here, now, I do declare. I’m not looking. I will fight the urge to be in a relationship. I will end up alone as I self-deprecatingly do declare and joke. I will make that a fact….on certain conditions of course.

Conditions that if someone does come around; someone who strikes my fancy and is available, that I will and do try to make things work and take all the lessons that I have learned and be open-minded to learn more; be more flexible; and hopefully do make things work.

But other than that loophole, that condition, I just don’t need to focus on that, the relationship, and just focus on my writing, my work, my photography, my life, and living it to my desire.

Maybe all this time, it has been holding me back.

I’ve always put the romantic ideals of being in a the “perfect” relationship on a pedestal and I do know it doesn’t exist. I should just throw away any idealistic romantic notions of love, relationships, happily-ever-after and just focus on the dry solid reality of boring work work ambitious work.

I make that declaration quite frequently and I never stick to it. Hence the “whatever” from my friends, but I think I should stick to it so it won’t be empty words. I need to stick to it.

Strip it away from my consciousness and step on it. Away with stupid love and relationships. Mash it up to little tiny pieces and flush it down the toilet. Flush, spin around and around, gurgle. GONE.

Just focus on what is important right now. Just focus on the things that matter right now. Work. Work. Work.

All work and no play makes Phong a dull boy. I’m a dull boy already, so that makes no difference to me.

All work and no play makes Phong a successful boy. And success is what I want.

I am young and life is long. I have lots of time to play when I’m dead (I know, that doesn’t make sense, but go with it).

These foolish ideals has taken up a lot of my life and caused many sleepless, angered, sick nights. No more as I throw it out with the bathwater with future babies included. Gone.

A decision that I need to make and I am making it. Live and die by my decisions. Gone.

Maybe it is a bit overdramatic, which I do tend to be, but maybe it is something that I do need to do.

It is usually around the time when you least expect it, even when you aren’t searching when things actually happen. I’m not hoping for it, I’m not going to think about it, I’m just going to live it and see where this blank nondestined future has in store for me.

Another week and another week under the weather. Another week and another week without anything physical. Another week and another week without exertion. Another week and another week bedridden.

I don’t know why my immune system has been so weak this year. I just don’t understand why. This is the worst year health wise, easily getting sniffly and mucussy. Not cool.

But hopefully it will get better. Hopefully I’ll just man up and head to the doctors for a overdue checkup and let her know that I’m having some issues and she’ll prescribe me something that will take care of it forever and ever….well at least until I get better.

I think it is just a matter that I’m getting old and that I need my precious sleep. I can’t just stay up late on a whim and not feel the effects of it a few days down the line. General body fatigue, a slow mind, scratchy throat, sniffles, and mucus. Just a general blah of icky sickness. Icky sickness.

* * *

I laugh at the Delicate Flower as she is done with me.

* * *

Strangely, but surely it happened. Sometime yesterday, whether it was at work, or not, but an overwhelming calm in my heart happened. It slowed its beat, steadying itself to the natural rhythms of ok-ness and just continued to beat without any strings, pressure, and yearning. It just beat along to its own tune.

There is a strange calm Zen that is just flowing through me. No more. No mas. Just a whateverness that flows through my veins as I just sit here and type my diddly.

There isn’t that questioning and doubting of whether I made the best decision or not. There’s just an overwhelming calm that whatever decision I made, good or bad, is the right one and that things will turn out in the end, whatever they may be.

I will be okay. I am okay. It isn’t the be all end all that I usually make things out to be.

I am screwed. Yes, I am, but it is a okay screwdness that I am use to and know how to let go; given time of course.

There is that optimism again. There is that overall things will be okay jolly feeling that comes out of nowhere. It is the thing that I need to just calm down and face the day without the obsession that I’m known to do.

Just let it be. Just let it be.

* * *

Following up on Selena Kyle on the posts of faces and it seems that she’s doing okay, moving on. It seems that she’s just having fun and I’m so happy for that. She’s moving on, doing whatever she needs to do. I’m happy for that.

Good for her.

I do genuinely hope that she’s doing okay.

* * *

Old, but full of energy. Burning off their morning doses of caffeine, they sit and argue every weekend morning about whatever they are arguing about in their own foreign tongue. They sit there, all five of them, just talking, not caring about anything that is happening around them. This is their bond, their group of friends that share the same morning routine every day.

Coming here for coffee from the golden arches, which is pretty darn good, and just sit and talk.

Maybe they are talking about politics, world affairs, the motherland… The list goes on and on, as they sit intently listening to each other laying out their opinions, their thoughts and waiting for others to respond, hopefully igniting a full on debate of clashing thoughts, boiling the blood, bringing them to life.

To sit here and just sit here with old friends, brothers, family and just discuss and talk. Things that excite me, that make me think, push my envelope and my way of thinking. Things that I love.

I wonder what will happen when I get to their age, if I get to their age. What will happen?

Will I have that? Will I be with my cousins in the morning and just actually talk about shit?

* * *

Talking.

I was up in the northwest recently, Portland, OR for work. Work was work, quick and easy; overall a free vacation; a free visit to family.

I spent a day with my cousin’s wife, my cousin, and their two kids. It was nice. I loved it, just being with the kids and just catching up.

I know I love kids, and I know I want kids. After Ashlyn in Reno, I kid that I don’t want any kids, because she’s just a wild animal who is much much smarter than I am. I only kid, if only I’m fortunate enough to have a smart kid like Ashlyn.

But just being with my cousins’ kids, I just realize that yes, I do want kids. I do want to hold them and have them hug me back so tightly like Mason does.

To just have them smile at me, knowing that I will keep them safe and I will play with them and protect them.

It was just a good time with family overall. I loved it and it will forever be in my beloved memories.

It kind of brought back flashbacks of me babysitting for Emerson while he was younger when Julie and Phinney came down for a company thing a few years back. The horror. The horror and pain of Emerson crying as he wakes up in a hotel room with a stranger. But eventually he warmed up to me and his mac & cheese.

But, no, it was just great spending a quiet day with Julie and the kids at the park. And all we did was just talk. All we did was just catch up and talk about family, how we’re doing, what’s going on, such and such.

That’s the thing with my family. We just don’t talk. Well, the Ho’s in our family to be exact. We just don’t talk about anything with substance, not our feelings, what happened in our lives, etc. etc. etc.

I know it is a family thing, and a cultural thing of saving face and what not; not wanting other people to know about our shit.

That is one of Julie’s biggest gripes about the family, we just don’t talk. We never did, and hopefully that will change.

People know me. I have no secrets, a open book, that is more than willing to talk about anything and discuss everything, whether personal or not. I’m just a open guy that loves to talk if it is of anything that has substance. But I’m not the type that pushes it on others and family if they aren’t willing to. Therefore, I don’t. Not unless they bring it up or I bring it up and they latch onto it and lets the boulder roll. That rarely happens.

What surprised me was a conversation I had during dinner with Phinney and Julie. I brought up to Julie earlier in the day that whenever I went up for Christmas, Faith would invite Hien and me to go to church with her family. She would precursor this invite with a note stating that Matt wanted us to go, but was too embarrassed to ask.

I don’t know the veracity of it, but it is sweet. I love to know that they both care about the two of us, me to want me to find salvation. I don’t find it offensive that they want me to go with them. It is thoughtful. I know my thoughts on religion, and they know my thoughts on religion and the church. I don’t look down on them for believing what they do and hopefully they don’t do the same to me; and I know I don’t feel that way. They respect my choice of believing in whatever faith I have.

I don’t know if anyone else in the family got the friendly invite to attend church. I don’t know. But Phinney thinks that Faith wanted to ask me because they are worried about me and maybe Hien also.

He believes that they worry about me because I did make the choice of moving down here to be on my own away from family. That because I’m down here alone with no one to look after me. Also, maybe because I’m so vocal about being away, and so opinionated, so sensitive, that they just worry about me. It’s sweet, but I don’t know why, it just gets me to hear that family sees me that way. To actually see me for whom I am, the opinionated and sensitive guy that makes his own choices to do what he needs to do.

Then he talked about my family blog that I wrote back in November. He read it and just went on discussing the part about my uncle.

Again, I told him I never heard about that story before until just recently. Julie chipped in saying that it is because we just don’t talk. Our family’s fatal flaw. But it was just great knowing that he actually read it and that he’s actually willing to talk about it. Maybe he just knows that I’m desperately in a way searching for my roots, wanting to know about my family, everyone and where we came from. That I’m looking for my sense of history, so I can place who I am and where I came from.

We just went on discussing that uncle and him saying that pretty much I got it down right and that my Great Uncle has every right to be pissed. But like me, what he then said is absolutely right, it happened so long ago. Let bygones be bygones. There’s just nothing we can do.

He sees a change in this uncle, coming to family events and just trying to reconnect and seeing that a daughter of his is making an effort to acknowledge our side of the family.

Just funny looking back at family and seeing how certain family connected better than others. Others are off living their separate lives whereas my family and this uncle’s family always got together and hung out. I grew up hanging out with this cousin and his siblings. His father was my favorite uncle because I would always go to their house on the weekends and just hang out and play. We were a close knit bunch.

We never really connected with the other families. Some because they lived so far away, but others that lived locally, we just never connected with them. We grew up apart, not knowing each other. There were some that I haven’t seen for 10-15 years at a time. Others that are just so weird, more hermit than myself that we just never found common ground.

Family. Just baffling how different many of us are even though we share the same blood.

Thinking ahead, it just seems sad in a way how things are going to change. Most of the culture and traditions will be gone because as the older generation slowly disappears we will pick up our own Americanized Traditions. Family is just drifting apart because we are all growing up and becoming more and more focused on our shit than family shit.

It was great to hear a little about family history and a little bit about my dad especially from a cousin that is within my generation. He’s like an older brother to me, and that’s how we address each other as brothers, not as cousins. He would tell me how things were at the farm back in Vietnam and how my dad taught him and his brothers how to shoot a bow and arrow, slingshots, and the such.

It just brings tears to my eyes to know that my dad did that.

It also touched my heart to hear from Julie that Phinney is sad that his dad and my dad aren’t here to see his kids. It just breaks my heart. It is true, it is heart breaking, and my heart is breaking now as I fight back tears in this public place trying to get this down.

It just makes me think of when I do have children. My favorite uncle won’t be here to see them and my dad won’t be here to coddle and spoil them. He isn’t here to teach them things that he taught me. My children won’t be able to see how loving their grandfather can be.

My heart breaks as I fight back tears. Breaking…broken.

Family.

But we all have to grow up and focus on our own shit, not worrying about anyone else because each of us is all grown up doing their own thing.

I do see how even our close knit family is slowly drifting apart because we are all growing up. Many of us are starting our own families, starting out in life, living our own life, that we just don’t have time to focus and worry about anyone else. We just hope that one day we can get together and just talk and open up.

Weddings and Funerals.

It just seems that our family only comes together for those two things. If it isn’t for a wedding, then it is for a funeral. Two big events, yes they are, but nothing more. The two extremes; a addition and a loss. Hopefully one day it will change, but again it just seems life gets in the way of everything.

Life just happens and we are too wrapped up in it to just reconnect.

My cousin says one day we’ll all just sit down and just tell me what life was like back in Vietnam. He said life was just life, but it just sounds so foreign to me. I’m just so interested to hear what it was like. I would like to take him up on that offer and just sit as a group, many generations together and just talk about how life was, how life is. Just talk. Hopefully one day it can happen, so I can just sit back and recollect and put it down for posterity sake, for my sake, so I know how far I’ve come in my life, in my family’s life.

* * *

Morals. Pride. Ethics.

It just seems that I’m full of it and that for some stupid reason I have this innate urge and disposition to do what is right. I see things in the old chivalrous way that is quickly fading. I have to always do what I think is right and fair.

I don’t know why it is that way. Well, I do know why. My parents taught it to me, to do what is right. But sometimes I do think it has gotten in the way of me doing what I want to do and therefore I doubt it and just hate it when I have to do the right thing.

What has it gotten me, being this nice and proper guy? What has it gotten me?

Nothing but the respect of others.

Respect? Does it matter? It goes back to the whole face thing? I could care less about face, just a matter of just.

I see both sides of the coin. I know the pros and cons of both side, reevaluating things before I even make a move and a decision, but always always, I have to take the higher road, the fair road, the just road.

I find it irksome. I wish I can just be a dick and say fuck it and do what isn’t right even if it means hurting people. I know I say it time and time again that it is okay to hurt people, but to do it maliciously, that is something I can’t do.

That would be wrong.

Maybe it is just my naiveté or just my idealism that is getting in the way, a world where things are fair and just happens because it is the right thing. I know the world doesn’t operate in this way, me being the cynic that I am, me being the jaded soul that I am, but there is that hope, that idealism that I do hold on to.

Not long ago I made a fair, just, and honest decision. I had to, for my sake.

I had to do it because it was the right decision to make, for my sake, for my sanity, for my heart. It has to be done.

But I wonder if it was actually the right decision. I wonder do I regret making this decision, constantly playing it in my head, psyching myself out, creating doubt.

I can’t lie; there is a doubt in what I did, in the choice that I made. Regret? Maybe, maybe not.

I’m just not sure if it was a smart decision or a stupid one.

I hear from both sides. One side, I made the absolute correct, fair, and honest decision and on the other it was just plain dumb.

I’m thinking in ways that no one thinks anymore. It is just old school and I need to operate in the here and now where chivalry is changed and dead.

For the most part, I just don’t understand the game. I’m ignorant.

Should I or shouldn’t I?

Even now as I sit here, I doubt my decision, but at the same time, deep inside the calm Zen state of mind, I did make the absolute correct decision.

My coworker didn’t think so and says I should keep that in mind when I am presented with another similar choice. I fucked it up.

I should have gone on and never brought it up and just go about having fun and treating it like it was what it was.

I’m the nice guy. Even though I have been a dick and a asshole to many people, my ex for example, overall I am the nice guy. Nice guys finish last, or so it seems that way.

Because we always have to do the right thing and just let things go because it is the fair thing to do. I wonder if people still think that way or am I a dying breed.

Funny, it just seems that girls say one thing in what they want in a man. A nice decent guy, but they always end up with the asshole. Why? Because they can fix him. Because I don’t think being treated like shit is something they go searching for.

Maybe nice guys are boring. I’m boring. They’re safe, they are proper.

Ha, I don’t know. I just don’t understand.

But I just feel that I’m just this nice guy, who does the right thing because it is the right thing to do and I don’t get the thing that I want out of it.

An asshole in my situation would have gone along with it and continued to hang out and maybe make a move, showing her that he is a better option than the one she currently has and that she’ll defect to him.

I see the point. I understand the reasoning in it, but for some reason I can’t do it. For some stupid reason, it just screams WRONG.

Even Hidalgo said I should just do it.

I don’t know. I don’t know. I know for me, I will always make the stupid right decisions. That’s innate in me to make those choices. I can’t make any other choices. It always has to be the right one. There are no if and or buts about it.

This is me. I guess I should better get use to making the dumb right decisions and live with it and not obsess over it.

Like I said, I live and die by my decisions. I should practice what I preach.

Things are getting easier. Things are still tough, but things are finally getting a little easier. Easier to breathe, easier to just let go and move on.

I don’t know why it is that way; maybe I’ve just gotten older and have a realistic understanding of the world.

Life is life.

Sometimes, things will just go your way. Other times, it just doesn’t. Whatever comes comes and you have no say in it. You absolutely have no say in it.

You are presented a situation, and you have to sit down and evaluate. You got to compare the good, the bad, the in between and make a decision base on what you know and have to stick to it like glue. There’s no turning back. None. You made a decision.

I made a decision. I live and die by my decision. Everything that I’ve done up to this point in my life, up to this minute, second, all come about by choices that I’ve made in my life. I made one today and I have to stick with it.

I really wanted things to be different. I really did hope that things turned out so differently, but it didn’t.

I know me. I know the type of person I am. I know my heart, inside and out. I know what I can do and what I can’t do.

I made my decision, and let’s just hope that there are no regrets on my part from it. I know there won’t be. I just have to stick with it.

But again, these decisions that I’ve made has gotten easier in my life. They aren’t so life and death like they use to be; not so dramatic anymore.

It was a decision that I made to make things easier on me. And in the long run, it will make things easier.

Things are out and up in the air. There are no secrets. Informed and explained. Understanding.

Sure I will lose some great times, but it has to be done.

I will not forget the times. I will not forget the talks, the joys, the cheers. I will not forget, because it has been a while since I’ve experienced those things. It has been a long time since I had such a great time where I’m completely relaxed and was able to just talk and get to know someone.

Relaxed. No regrets.

It will be in my thoughts for some time to come, but eventually it will fade into my memories, ready to be pulled up at any second, but it will be in the past. It’s not immediate and fresh anymore; with each passing second, it fades away. The pain subsides and I’m back to where I was not so long ago.

Me, myself, and I.

Not so long ago.

Not much has changed, but everything has changed.

Two little letters, put together to cause the biggest confusion of mass confusions.

Two little letters, when put together doesn’t even make a word, causes doubts and the usual “what the fuck?” that is happening in my life.

Two little letters that dashed my hopes, dreams.

Two little letters.

The weather is turning. The seasons are changing. The cool cold air has arrived in Los Angeles and I guess we are heading into the “cold” season of the City of Angels. Maybe it is because of this change that things are changing in the air. Maybe it is because of this change that I am getting the inkling feeling that I will be sick again. I don’t know, but I do know there is a change in the air.

I welcome the newfound weather in this city. It is a quick and nice change of pace from the hot heat that I still have not grown accustomed too. It is just too hot for me. It’s just weird weather when last week we were reaching upper 80s and now we are in the mere upper 60s.

No wonder I succumb to the bug that is floating around. To this day, I still don’t think I’m at 100%. Not yet.

* * *

Looking back at some of my earlier entries again last night and today; reading what it is that I’ve gone through at that time, the emotional state that I was in, it just blows me away how much I’ve grown up and changed, even from a few short years ago.

I’m able to write an write and spill everything out onto these blank pages of mine, whatever that seems to be troubling this pea-brain of mine, whatever that is wanting to spill out, and it helped me work things out. I’m glad to have found a therapy that works for me, and a relatively cheap one at that.

Writing. My therapy. A hate that I learned to love because it just opened up so many facets of my mind and shaped me in many ways to be who I am today. To be able to just write things out, getting it out of my system and seeing, reading, and understanding my problems and then realizing what it is that I must do to fix it.

I’ve came a long way from that really nice, soft, gentle guy who tries to please everyone, no matter who they are. The guy who is so considerate that he thinks of others before he puts his comforts and happiness first. The guy who is easily pressured to do things that he usually doesn’t.

I’ve come a long way. Every day, so it seems, seems to be a day of discovery, of what I’m capable of, finding new facets of me to explore and manipulate.

It is approaching that time of year again. It is approaching the end of the year, for the yearly diatribe. My how this year have gone by so quickly. A blink of an eye and it is gone, and there were a lot of things that happened this year.

Lots.

But there is one thing that keeps coming up with some of my colleagues and friends. One thing in my life, in all aspects of my life that I have noticed and is a point of repetition.

THIS IS THE MOST STRESSLESS AND HAPPIEST TIME I HAVE EVER EXPERIENCED IN MY LIFE.

There is a sense of zen in my life. A calm, cool, collective everything is A-OK and I have nothing to bitch about. I’m not saying life is perfect, but life is pretty damn near it. Life.

I’m sure a lot of it has to do with the new job I got this year. The change of scenery, the change of environment, responsibilities, the appreciation I got for my efforts took a lot of the stress out of my life. Before, everything was just pressing down on me. Now, the responsibilities and the expectations are different. I’m surrounded by all of these IT guys that knows what it means to be in IT. They understand the life, the job, the duties, and they know what the expectations are because they all have been through it.

Maybe the job is relaxed too. Chill. No pressure. We go about our daily business like we do with anything else. As long as the job gets done or if it is a problem, it is a problem that stumps all. Everyone is involved to help figure things out if it is an issue that is beyond my abilities. I have help. I’m not alone.

My office mates help too. They are genuinely decent guys. Funny. Cool. Dorks and geeks like yours truly. We all understand our job and we are just there to do it. No stepping on other people’s toes. Just there to do our job and to help out where needed.

* * *

I don’t know what I’m trying to say today. I don’t know what I’m trying to write today.

There’s just a lot of things that are rumbling and bumbling its way around in my head, bouncing off the echoey walls where it just clatters with its deafening noise and it ripples with other noises from other thoughts and now my brain is just a mess of dissonance.

Reading an old blog of mine that I wrote way back in 2004, I realize that this is the point in my life where things started to change. This is the point in my life where things took action, because it was a point in my life where I started to see myself for the first time who I really am.

I started to see the core of who I really am, this person before you today.

I vaguely remember writing it. I think it was Labor Day weekend in good ol’ Fresno. I wasn’t out at a coffee shop writing. No. I wrote this lil’ entry in a handwritten journal of mine.

Since then my writing took a different turn. Instead of the more direct passionate writing that started my journal, it became the lyrical whimsy that filled years and years of entries. The mish-mash rambling styles of philosophical speak that makes no sense.

It was a time where I just let my thoughts run free and jot everything down. It was the time of my soul searching. All those nonsense had a core purpose of disclosing who I am and what I was thinking. It was the second phase of my therapy.

The first was tackling my anger, writing everything down. The other was focusing on me, the way I think, the introspections that makes me who I am today. My thoughts, my philosophies, my rules in life.

That entry. It sparked the beginning of something that was needed to get me, my life back on track.

I realize the entry before is the first one of the newfound free flowing writing that I got comfortable with, the philosophical jib-jab of late night ramblings that spilled out everything that I was thinking in my life at that particular moment and that sad depressed phase that i was going through. That was the beginning or near the beginning of my road to recovery. The road to me. The Phong before you.

It just seems that I’ve been a lost soul for quite some time. Confused as to what my life means and what I’m to make of it. Questions in the ether that just cloud my mind during that time, always asking what am I? Who am I? Where am I going? The ultimate questions of figuring yourself out.

The Quarter Life Crisis really got to me. It was a big part of my life. It was a answer to what I’m feeling, to know that I am not alone. Well, from that entry, again, it only applied to the first paragraph, of not knowing what it is that I want and the finding myself out.

Life just seemed so different back then, constantly dark and black. There’s no light at the end of the tunnel as it collapsed in on me. But then for some reason, some time, things took a turn for the better. I don’t know exactly when, but it did.

It seemed like a slow subtle change in me. It was a gradual ascension to who I am, as layers and layers of this onion peeled away to reveal the true heart that is me. I do not miss that point in my life. It was rough, sad, but I am glad that I experienced it and conquered it.

And here I am today with a much better understanding of who I am today. What I’m willing to do and what I’m not willing to do. A better understanding of why I am the way I am and a sure found knowledge of who I am and in a way a sure confidence of the decisions that I make.

Life is good. Life is damn good.

I don’t know what came first, me getting better or me thinking optimistically? I think there was a mixture involved as I got a glimpse of who I am, saying to myself that I’m not this bad person who’s always angry at everything, who is a victim, who was dealt a bad hand.

I realized that I made that happen. I made those decisions. My decisions affect who I am and my happiness. I need to do things that I am comfortable with and that benefits me and not other people. Me. It’s all about me.

* * *

I think I’m done today as I really do need to go to the bathroom now and I need to make my movie. I think I’m done today because I have no clue how I came about writing what I just written. I had no idea what it is that I wanted to say today, but I managed to say something. I don’t know.

Hot. Heat. Temperature rising in the middle of the night, like it is the Gobi during mid-day.

Heat. Hot. Why is it happening where I can’t just close my eyes and wander listlessly into the dreamy flickers that I’m so familiar to? Why can’t I just continue my pursuit of salvation, not just for me, but my fellow friends and travelers? To rescue them from these dreaded faceless beings that haunts me in my dreams.

I’m always the wandering hero, figuring out their next move, using my expert kung fu skill to fend off some worthless piece of shit so everyone else who is not a worthless piece of shit can run for safety. Me, putting my life before others, the knight in shining armor that I am, chivalrous and gallant, a paladin in the days of yore.

But here I am no kung fu skills to speak of. No fighting skills to speak of. No muscles to speak of. Just typing skills to bring me into the middle of the night, hoping that this blared distraction is what I need to tire out this antsy brain of mine, to turn off the things and the thoughts that keep me up in this sauna night of the year.

Why is it happening to me? Sleepless because of guilt? Sleepless because of the wreaked emotions of a tigress?

Still. No more. No mas. There is nothing left, just a drained sense of self. No emotions to think of, moving along in a slow controlled movement because that is all that I can do with my programmed nature to make it seem like I’m alive.

But all in all, I am just a soulless zombie stumbling away through the day, putting on a strong face and a fake smile to make it seem that I’m okay.

I’m not okay. No okay at all. Betrayed and just plain hurt. I can’t go on living. How can I possibly go on living? How?

It just seems impossible. Such darkness surrounds me, no glimmer in sight, no light at the end of the tunnel. What greets me is the familiar, the dark cloud of night.

How can I possibly just live and move on?

But I must, for it is my life. But I must, for it isn’t everything. But I must, for I am stronger than this. Stronger than what he made me out to be.

I can be everything that he wanted me to be, everything and more; the fixed happy being that I have full potential to becoming. I’ll be that and leave him with a sense of guilt and a pang of “oh fuck me”, wanting to get me back.

But I’m done. I’m through. No more. No mas. He doesn’t deserve me in any way. Not anymore. Not after what he’s done to me. No more Gui Gui Ngoi Oh Neis or any sweet words that can change my heart. He is dead to me and my heart is slowly being pieced together by me and there’s one spot open for someone else. The one that can make me smile again, and he will come. He will be my paladin. He will be my gallant knight, and when he comes there will be no other.

Lost looking with my red dried opened eyes of the sleepless night looking at these symbols just put my life in perspective.

There is a bit of guilt in what I did, hurting her, but time and time again, I profess, it has to be done. Maybe they are just excuses and excuses, but it is all said and done.

I just have to sit here and deal and console my heart and tell myself that it is okay. It is okay. It is time to move on. I have to. She has to. We all have to. That goes life. It goes on, moving on, leaving things buried in the past.

Time. Tick. Tock.

Beats of the drum, matching my heart beats, bumping into the night. Moving with a time cadence that hypnotizes me in the rhythmic motions of everything that goes about me. I’m finding the beat that I never found before.

Scared. Frightened. What ifs of the night and the future that will always be there and just the constant doubting of the blank canvas that just stares at me, taunting me to put the first stroke.

What should I do? What should I say? The first act of desperate action that will propel me forward, jumping forward in the crevice that is not a crack but a valley gorge that is impossible to leap, but it must be done to move on from the dreaded sand pit that is slowly sucking me into oblivion.

The Heavenly Net that catches everyone else is not there to catch me. It is a leap of faith. A leap of sure footed-ness of my heart, hoping that everything will be all right, that all that come to pass was meant to be.

Life and time can only make us stronger. What doesn’t kill us only sets us up for more.

These mindless whispers of the dark, yacking in my ears is only comforting me so much before my mind and brain will explode from the max capacity of the small pea that is my brain.

Words flow in nonsensical ways, more so than it ever had and possibly will happen again in this sing-song night of not being able to rest.

Sleep. Slumber. The long sleep of night, the final sleep.

What is it that makes us always wake to face the day? To start again, knowing the possible pain that is out there for us? What is it?

Is it love, or the possibility of love?

Wo hen xiang ai ta but it will never happen. It will never happen because then it would be a fairy tale come true. For all of us.

I don’t know what it is, but the drumming of these fingers isn’t making me closer to sleep at all. These eye lids aren’t getting heavier as I planned, but staying the constant whateverness of this madness that is racking my brain.

I realize that I am in hell. This is hell. Life is hell, which I have realized before. This is life, purgatory. Here we wait and wait until the eternal sleep that we all will come to accept and look forward to.

Soon, soon it will be time to hear the Every I Love You’s that I have the fortunate pleasure of falling for. The sing song tune that hums softly in my ears day in and day out. Lyrics that i can only make out from time to time but the eerie addictiveness of these cantotunes that gets me hooked and only wish for more.

Withdrawal is a bitch. I’m sure it is much worse for some others than for me, but it still hurts none the less.

What is it? Why is it? I don’t know why it is happening to me. Punishment for moving on, for needing to? I don’t know what it is.

Putting on a strong face, going out with others, partying in the city of sin. Things are getting better are they not?

There I walk away, passing you by, hoping that things were different. I walk ahead, mumbling my salutations and I leave, fumbling ahead, looking ahead, stealing a glimpse only as I proceed to my destination in a roundabout way to just drop off a message of what I need to do. Nothing more. Nothing less. I didn’t even need to be there, not at all. But to just be there, stealing that glimpse makes my heart calm.

Fix. Fix. Fix.

I shoot myself up hoping it will take the edge off. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t. Just another addiction that I need to deal with. Just more shit that I got myself in.

Matters of the heart. Things that I don’t understand. Might as well just rip it out and stomp it to death so I wouldn’t have to deal with these things anymore.

Drowsy night in the summer time. Indian summer. Not summer at all, fall, school time.

Fucking heat. Fucking hot. Kill me now so I can at least get some shut eye. Forced or not. A listless peaceful sleep only to be woken by the soft beep beep of the electronic time keeper that I have near me.

Please.

Here I am, sitting with a hot vanilla latte from the Bean of the Drug that leaves that dreaded coffee phlegm in my mouth trying to jot down something for this week’s diatribe. I sit and reread what I wrote last week, or was it the week before, clearing out my head, my mind, but I can’t. It’s just full of misty clouds that make it hard to think.

The temperature is rising in this air conditioned social gathering shopping place that I usually only frequent when I want to see a “flicker” or need to actually do some shopping. I sit here, on the verge of breaking into a sweat, hoping I break into a sweat because it means I might sweat this fucking crappy ass bug out of my system.

It has been a week, a miserable week at work with the downed internet and issues, but a week that came and went. I didn’t even get to exercise this week; out of commission and out of energy. BLAH! is my usual cry of naked fatigue hoping for the warmth comfiness of my bed and nothing more.

Clouded is my mind with this new drug that I have found. My heart races for a dose, no matter how small to get into my system, making it pitter patter into life, but it is difficult. Hard. Just not knowing, scared of another addiction. What if I get addicted again? What if like the last drug, I built up a tolerance and it does nothing for me anymore? What if?

Why is it that things like this happen to me? Looking for the new, something different, when all in all I know the outcome maybe the same. I’ll get bored, tired, or just fear what is to come with the addiction and I drift away.

This is a relatively new drug. Young and fresh. Just a taste and you’ll be hooked. And I am. I haven’t been able to shake the feeling out of me. I haven’t been able to detox, because whenever I feel it wither away, I get another dose and am stuck in its graspy fingers of tingly giddiness. The happy pill of something new and fresh. Novel.

But there’s a familiar fear in me of this drug as in all drugs that I’ve tasted. That fear, that whatchamacallit that makes me hesitate to embrace this little pill and pop it into my system. I’m always careful and slow when approaching new things. Holding back, getting small doses at a time to see if I can handle a little more, doing research, soul searching to see what other qualities it may have. How strong the addiction is, after effects, side affects…the such and such.

What am I to do? Why am I like this? Who do I think I am to think I’m strong enough, young enough to take on a brand new drug that is so young and so fresh? I’m just an old old man with old man complexes that doesn’t need any more excitement in his life.

But all in all, I am a junkie. I love my drug of choice and there is nothing I can do about it. I’m a lifetime addict, not able to seek treatment, because there is no treatment for this sickness, this type of addiction that I have. I just have to live with it and hopefully, I can overcome the enticing delicacy that would taste so salty sweet in my mouth.

What am I to do? A part of me wants to reach out and just get a connection, a chance to make known that I have this addiction and hopefully this drug will take mercy on my soul and treat me fair. I want to be forward and come out and say I have this sickness for you, my drug of choice. But, there is a part of me that is holding back, afraid.

I just can’t do it.

It’s too soon. I just went through withdrawal and there’s still remnants, residual, in my system that I just can’t shake. Thoughts and feelings revert back to the warm feelings that my old addiction gave me and then I see that withdrawal was a bitch. Knowing that I had to quit it and the act of going through it is hard.

I do have strong will power on many things, especially on things that I put my mind to. I quit. I had to. It was a good choice, something that needed to be done for my health and for the righteousness of everything. It had to be done. The drug was way too dangerous for me as my tolerance built up and I couldn’t take it anymore. I had to drop it. Quit.

Maybe this is a withdrawal fever that is draining my soul into this weird drained ickiness that I’m feeling. It eats me inside, not wanting to do anything and not wanting anything else. I feel sick. I AM sick. Just a general ennui that attacks my mind, clouding and dulling everything that was once so sharp.

I can’t do anything. I can’t do anything at all. I am helpless until this sickness passes. It’s going on its second week now. I feel no better than when it first started. There were days when I thought it would pass as I see some light in the darkness, but I’m still covered by the gray misting clouds of yore.

Ickiness. Sickness. General BLAH.

Sitting. Staring. Clearing my mind for the world to read. To see. Just focusing on the things that I need to focus on and forget the things that just bother me.

Life has been a little difficult for the past couple of weeks. Not as difficult as many others, but a little difficult for my taste.

It isn’t the biking to work, the exercising in the morning that is making my life difficult, but the doubting of my decision. Making me rethink my actions, whether I made the correct decision.

I still stand by my decision and think I made the right one. It wasn’t easy. It wasn’t fair. But for me…and hopefully for her, it is the best. The best for us.

I know I’m a fickle person. I know that once the novelty wears off, I get bored. But did that happen or was there something more there?

It might have been that there was something more. I just couldn’t deal. I’m not built to be in a relationship. I’m too much of a free spirit, a wandering loner, to be tied down and settle. Maybe I’m just not ready. No…not a maybe, a definitely not ready to settle down.

Maybe I thought I was settling with her and thought I could do better. Maybe that’s why, but no, it wasn’t. It wasn’t settling. It is what it was. The suffocation got to me. The cage-iness of everything got to me. Not that it was her fault, not that she was the one that was tying me down. It wasn’t like that at all. It was just that I can’t be with anyone.

I enjoy my space. I love my space. I need my space, and that is something that I need to learn to let go and give up…eventually. But right now, I don’t think I can.

Maybe she’s just not the one for me to give up. Maybe she’s right. When you truly love someone, like someone in that way, you shouldn’t have to make time to be with that someone, you just do it because it is them. I never gave her the courtesy. I did it because she was there. She was going to come over and I was going to go over. It just happens. But then there were times where I would get antsy and I just need to breathe.

I don’t know what it is I’m trying to say. I don’t know what it is that I’m rambling on and on about today. I just know that there are lots on my mind. Tons.

Relationships. Girls. People.

Things I don’t understand. Things I try to, but I just don’t. It is just too complicated for my simple mind to grasp these complex terms and ideas and objects. Too complicated indeed. I guess if it was easy to understand, my life, the world, would be a better place.

There hasn’t been a single day that I don’t think about her. She’s on my mind every day. She did make that impact on me and again, I doubt my decision. Regret? Maybe, but it must be done. It wouldn’t be fair to her. It would not.

My feelings changed. I was having problems, things that I couldn’t deal or help. I ran. I let her go; left her alone to fend for herself. But what if I stayed, feeling the way I felt about her, which wasn’t romantic in nature anymore, but more of friends, hanging out. What if?

What if something did happen and I did get use to her? Her being by my side, her being with me. Would my heart change back to the way it was, full of lovey dovey can’t do without her notions, or would it stay the same, the hey there friend type of thing? What if?

That wasn’t something I wasn’t going to bet on. I’m a sure deal type of thing and that wasn’t a sure deal. I can’t trust the fates on that. I can only trust my gut and my gut tells me to not bet on this one, like it tells me not to bet on anything, ’cause I WILL ALWAYS LOSE.

It wouldn’t be fair to her, to have her wait many more weeks, months, years till I figure out what I want. What if I did stay with her two or three years down the line and I was never man enough to tell her how I felt and we did end up married? Loveless, courteous, civil, because she’s only a friend. Would she have known? Would she have liked that? Time wasted, years that we can never get back.

So I had to let her free, to find another, while I deal with my shit and she with hers. It wouldn’t be fair to tie her to me just because. It would be unfair.

Time.

Time fixes things. Time changes things. Time makes us forget, helps us heal, let us move on. Time.

Will this happen? Could it happen, here, in this case? I don’t know. I really don’t know.

I thought that we can be friends. I really thought that we can, as we talk on the phone and hear her sound okay and happy. I thought things would be good. But it wasn’t the case. I treated her like a friend, hiding behind my text messages and my emails as I do with all my friends and family. I never pick up the phone and call, ’cause I don’t call. I simply don’t.

She knows that. She knew that while we were dating. I called, albeit sometimes, but I did call. But I hate talking on the phone. It seems weird that I was able to be on the phone with her for hours on end when we first met, but as we went from sniffing each other out to actual dating, the long phone calls ended. Maybe it is because we were seeing each other more and more.

Even now, as I type this, I’m having a conversation with my cousin through text messaging. Avoid calls at all costs.

Free of the phone calls. Free of just sitting on the phone, not being able to pay attention to the tv, or go to sleep, or read, or surfing the web. Phones. Not a fan. Good for convenience, but not good to “talk”.

I thought we could be friends. I thought we could remain that as I kept to my schedule and she kept to hers. I had no problem picking up her calls and talking to her, catching up and hanging up. I can never do the whole talk talk talk for hours, because honestly, what is there to talk about anymore. How can I talk while I have guests in my home…my mom and my bro? It is rude.

But I still picked up.

Frustration of the explosion over an email. It was simple it was quick. It wasn’t a rush for me to find the answer. I avoid phone calls unless absolutely necessary or when emails or texting is not an option.

I don’t know. Maybe I’m just weird that way. I’m not use to human contact, so I avoid it at all cost, hiding behind this computer, punching in letters and hitting a button to do all my communicating for me.

Maybe that is why I’ll never be with anyone. I’m just too much of a hermit loner that can’t deal with people. I don’t know.

Things just didn’t work out. We didn’t have any “electricity”. We did though. Lots of chemistry. She did make me laugh. She was thoughtful and kind. She could take my shit and give it back tenfold. For the most part, we did work. We honestly did. But it ended, as it had to. It just wasn’t fair to her as I decide what I really wanted. I had to take the blame, the responsibility to let it go.

I don’t know. I don’t know.

It’s over as it has to be over. She’s done with me with the most recent explosion and I just have to leave it as that. I can’t pull a Stephanie, ’cause that is just wrong.

Again, that is something that I will not understand. I just simply don’t understand.

You let the person go, but why would you still want the person to still want you? Why? You let the relationship go, so why would you want that? You aren’t interested in the person anymore. Why do you still want that? Let it go. Let him be free. It’s unfair to toy and string him along. Unfair. Rude. Mean.

It’s just a confused mess of not wanting to be alone; wanting your cake and eating it too. Just can’t happen. Imagine what he’s going through? He’ll never be able to let go.

I would like to think I’m a smart guy. But sometimes I just don’t feel that way. Matters of the heart, relationships…beyond my comprehension. I rule myself with logic with a tinge of emotion, but heart and logic don’t mix. What ends up happening are gut feelings of confusion.

Maybe I just need a distraction. Maybe I need someone else to keep my mind off of things. Maybe I just need a new hobby, a new focus in my life, or maybe I just need to focus a little harder on my projects and not be so lazy about them and actually do it. Maybe.

Time.

I don’t know. Am I ready to jump back in the scene and start looking for another? Am I? I would like to think that I am, but I don’t think I am. I think I’ll just have the same feelings of suffocation, of giving up MY TIME of doing nothing or my things of leisure to entertain. I’m just too selfish for something like that.

Maybe I’m just lazy. I’m not willing to put in the work, to compromise for the relationship, the one that just ended or any future ones. I know my problems. Things I need to resolve and fix on my own. I can’t possibly do it on my own because they aren’t ‘alone’ problems, but problems of relationships.

Am I just not ready to commit? Though we were only dating, I did think of her as my girlfriend. I don’t know. Just a mass confusion.

She did change me, enlightened me about relationships. She gave me a glimpse of what it is like to be in a relationship, to be part of a couple. Both the good and the bad. It was her that solidified what I had a small inkling of what I want in a relationship. And it was her, unfortunately, that made me realize that maybe, just maybe I’m not ready to be in a relationship or that I’m just not made to be in one.

Marriage.

Being around family a few weeks ago, the idea of marriage came up as my cousin who is being set up with a woman that he has no interest in sat nearby. As the discussion of what happened between me and my “wife” was chattered about among my family, I declared that I’m not sure if I want to marry. Thinking ahead, I don’t know. The romantic idealist in me says that I will find the love of my life…or find her again and live happily ever after. A part of me thinks, no. I’ll spend the rest of my life alone and be okay with that. ‘Cause I will be.

My mom says I need to marry. I have to marry as my cousin and the woman that he’s been set up with sits nearby. I never looked over to them, but I know they are there, a distance apart from me and they are a distance apart from each other. A forced relationship that may never work, but for some reason it is happening. I don’t envy my cousin nor do I want to be in his shoes about that.

I’m not getting the pressure to find someone now. My mom isn’t putting that on me nor my brother as my cousin’s parents are on him…force-fed this woman that he has no interest in. I never really got a chance to speak with her, but she seemed nice and quiet.

Three rules. Three things that I need to find in a woman, so proclaimed from my mom. Three proclamations. I need to find someone, a girl/woman, that 1) doesn’t smoke, 2) doesn’t drink, 3) doesn’t gamble.

Those three things. My mom’s desires in my significant other.

My retort. “Wow, I’ll be looking till I’m 60.” This, may be true. My cousin’s mom LOUD retort to my retort, ’cause she talks loudly, is that it isn’t that hard to find someone. My cousin’s dad said that it’s okay if an 83 year old can find a wife. He’s shaking at the altar.

He’s not shaking because he’s old. He’s shaking because he’s getting married, getting cold feet and thinking damn, I’m stuck with this woman for the remainder of my life and I don’t have that many years left.

My mom, my cousins, my family knows better to set me up with anyone. They know I’ll give them shit for it, a smart ass remark, and simply, I won’t do it out of spite. Tis is I.

Moderation.

Smoking. Drinking. Gambling. All bad things in my mother’s eyes. To me, depends. It is all on moderation. It’s okay to smoke…in moderation. It’s okay to drink…in moderation. It’s okay to gamble… in moderation. I can’t judge someone for doing those when I myself do many of them in moderation. It’s all about context. And so I told my mom, it’s okay to do those, in moderation. She disagrees. She’s just very traditional.

I don’t know.

My mind is clearer and I actually did find some focus. I was able to rant and ramble with my usual flare. Thought it isn’t as flashy as it usually is, but more of the straightforwardness of my earlier writings and blog things, but I was able to put thoughts on a blank page.

When will it be when I stop thinking about her and what I did? When will it be that I will stop feeling bad for breaking a heart that wasn’t mine to break? When will it be that I will be able to move on and leave this in the past? I don’t know.

But I do know that she’ll always be a part of my thoughts, whether she likes that idea or not.

Time. It will eventually give me answers to my I don’t knows.