Keep being

Depression saps our motivation to do what we love. Part of it is that we can't enjoy those lovely things to the same extent, nor for as long. Another part is, why bother trying to be happy? We know that we're sad, so why try to fight it? But not doing anything will worsen things as much as trying to do everything. We need to keep doing something; when we have an urge to do something positive or inconsequential, we should give it a shot.

Every day, I have to tell myself not to just stay in bed. I will do all of these things today because I'm responsible for it all. I want to be responsible because fulfilling my responsibilities gets me through the day. I want to get through the day because each day passed is a day closer to seeing you again. Seeing and speaking to you again is what I'm living for.

So all we can do right now is keep being. Taking action is part of being, but our actions should reflect who we really are. We can't let other people control us, but we should think critically about their suggestions and how following them will affect lives. That goes for people whether they're depressed or not. But, for the depressed people who want to become nothing, being what we are is especially important.

In time

We don't necessarily move through time. Time moves past us, its current pushing events toward and away from us. People are moving through time when they move with the current and dwell on the past, or when they move against the current and contemplate the future. When people think in the present, taking it day by day, they're staying still while time flows by. It's easy to slip into the past, a challenge to stay in the present, and difficult to run toward the future.

I've said that I'm not going to be strong anymore. Being strong and rushing into the future ruined me, and it'll continue to destroy me if I'm impatient. I float around from past to present, staying weak. Maybe another person can handle gambling into the future, but I'll limit my risks. In time, the future will come, and this present will have long passed. I shouldn't push for a future where we're able to talk; I need to stay put and let that come to us.

Late at night

I usually post my second message of the day quite late at night. Sometimes I'm right up against midnight, posting in the last seconds of the day. If I were sending you these messages personally, you wouldn't be reading them until morning because you try to be in bed by 10. You have one of your recorded shows droning on while you've fallen fast asleep to it. The fan rattles as it circulates air around your room. You're resting soundlessly underneath the blanket I lent you. Your cat is probably at the foot of your bed.

If we were together right now, I'd be staying up and waiting for you to fall into deep sleep. I've taken to watching Orion's League of Legends videos, so you'd be listening to that instead of to your TV. I'd finish watching a video, turn off the fan, shut down the computer, and carefully slip into bed with you. You'd probably sort of wake up, because I can never get into your tiny, worn bed without disturbing you. Even more likely if you aren't sleeping next to the wall; I have to carefully crawl over your body, shimmy between you and the wall, and maneuver underneath the covers. But you'd be too lazy and half-asleep to want to have everything turned back on. You'd fall asleep again in a matter of minutes, and in the morning you wouldn't even remember that you were disturbed.

I hope every night that you're sleeping soundly. I pray every night for your peace. And I remember every night how much I love you.

Writing it out is now nothing new

Writing that response statement doesn't really feel any different from writing other things. With the obvious exception of research papers. Actually, it was much like writing on this blog. I just told it how it is, though as it's a serious document it had to be written without much poetic language. Writing about the relevant events was also offered me a good time to reflect on how this all happened. It's always easier to handle a situation when you know how you got into it.

I noticed that your statement wasn't completely true, even though you signed it under penalty of perjury. I don't know what will happen because of that. I hope it's nothing very bad. I don't want this to bite you in the ass, because it isn't our fault. I want everything to be okay. So don't lie anymore to anyone about this. Especially don't lie to yourself.

This grinds on

I officially can't speak to you. You could choose now to tell me whatever you like, and I could not legally respond. I don't think that you'll do that, though. This lasts for a few weeks, then a judge gets to decide how much more time to implement. I was given these court papers today, when I'd been thinking yesterday that a simple conversation between us could fix everything. Too late for a conversation now.

How this grinds on... precious time is wasting away. Tense feelings are lingering. Every day I'm suffering, and I'm praying that you aren't suffering as badly. I have a lot of trouble imagining that I'm on your mind as much as you are on mine. And I'd like to think, despite the things I've heard from people, that a good deal of those thoughts are lovely memories.

I'll stay right here, weak and empty, as I continue to endure every day without you. Depressing thoughts continue to grind into my consciousness, but I'll bear them for you. And, of course, I will turn wherever I can, so that I can make it to the day that we can be friends.

Singing loneliness away

One thing that's been bothering me lately is that I want to talk to other people but I don't much anything to say that isn't about you. Sometimes I forget to talk to people for that reason. I don't have the urge to scream or cry, but I've left myself seething with lonely and worried thoughts. I've noticed myself listening to these songs and singing whatever I remember of their lyrics. Yes, I take a painful amount of creative license. I get too lazy on high notes, and my voice breaks. I replace and slur forgotten lyrics. But I'm not singing for anyone but myself, so that doesn't matter.

I find that doing this helps me deal with being unable to talk. My vocal chords are vibrating, and I'm telling a story. They're not always my story, but I don't mind that because it distracts me. And, even though I'm not singing to anyone, I don't feel as alone when I sing along with the music. I'll chalk that up to distraction again.

You do it, too. With your cute voice low, when you think nobody's listening, you mumble lyrics in tune. You hate being alone; do you feel this same way when you sing, then? You are never courageous enough to all-out sing in front of me, though I sing along to some songs when we're together. I can imagine you humming along to something now, and that makes me smile.

We don't really know

When we think we know something, it's based on what we experience. Sometimes it's only what we experienced long ago. Sometimes it's only what we're experiencing in the moment. We'll never really know each other, and we'll never really know ourselves. But you especially don't know me right now. You don't know how sorry I am for letting my feelings all spill out. You don't know how much I want to make you happy and proud to be with me. You don't know how much I want you to be safe and sound. How you see me now isn't quite what I am.

I'll give you a lifetime to understand who I am. Just let someone tell you before I die.

It's not our fault

You know what I just realized? It's not our fault that this happened to us. When I broke up with you, society had told me that men must be strong and definitive. When you stopped talking to me, a figure of authority had told you to. Since we didn't know any better, we followed through. We were upset, lost, and unable to think. Now that I've had all these months to think, I realize that it was wrong to force us apart. I can only hope and pray that you'll soon realize that, too.

What's keeping me going is a part of me holding on to a part of you, these parts that long to be together. These parts are faultless. They are our love.

Nice things

Good days are days when I think nice things about you. They're days when I remember your smile and your caress. Days when I remember feeling you in my arms. When I remember how happy we could be. I remember that, if I keep going, we can have all of that again. I tell myself that you'll see everything that I want you to see. Someday I'll wake up in the morning and you'll be there again. Maybe that day one of us will try to convince the other that we should wake up, but within minutes we'll both give in to the desire to stay under covers. When we finally get up, we'll make breakfast together even if it's after noon. French toast sounds delicious. I'll show you how methodically my mom makes it. I'll want to limit the butter we use in the pan, but you'll easily convince me to use a good helping of it. We won't think about who will do the dishes afterward, just claim our food and our drinks and sit down to watch a show we like. We can spend our day doing nothing special but being together, or I can take you wherever you want. In the evening, I won't want to leave you, so I'll keep you in my heart, thoughts, and dreams.

I can't wait for you to read these things. They're such nice things.

Shamrock shakes

The only things I ever order from McDonald's are McFlurries and shamrock shakes. And guess what? Shamrock shakes are already back this year. You know, as much as I have come to dislike McDonald's, I think I'll always love shamrock shakes! So I'd love to take you to the McD's by your house for a casual meal. Except you'd be the one having actual food, I'd just be having s large shamrock shake.

Maybe we can go to McDonald's together this year before they stop selling shamrock shakes? If we don't get around to that, we can always go another time and I'll nom up a McFlurry. I'm always looking forward to being with you again~

Building bridges versus digging moats

I've built many bridges since I last saw you. It helps me and it helps the people who care about me. I talk to as many people I can not only to share my burden with them but also so they can feel good for helping me. In fact, if I could have, I wouldn't have spoken to anyone but you. The reason I've been talking is mostly so that other people can be happy. Yes, it does help me, but that wasn't my motivation.

You've been digging moats. This isn't a battle, but treating it like so is dangerous. I even had the idea in my head at a point that I was a threat to you, because I'd been that swept up in the war zone mentality. So many people around you are affected by the idea that I should be kept away. It's hurting everyone, and I wish I could reassure you that this should just stop. I talked to your sister, and she got overwhelmed by the situation too. It's not fair to her or anyone involved that this one-sided war is being waged. Any time soon would be a good time to stop being scared.

Bridges are beautiful and positive things. There are unsure rope bridges that span huge chasms, but in the end they will likely hold up and help you. There are small and sturdy bridges across small gaps between land that make something pleasant even more so. Moats are less admirable and more negative things. They keep things out, threatening them with their depths. It is tiring to cross them without a lovely bridge. And once the moat is filled with dangerous animals, it only causes frustration and despair. This all goes in literal and non-literal ways. Those animals are noncommunication, and you've let those loose in the moats you and others have hastily dug.

Let's build bridges together sometime soon. You'll see that it will help everyone.

Valentine

Big Mac is red;
the TARDIS is blue.
I have something to say,
something deep to tell you.

Like House, I've been hobbling,
questioning everything.
And I'll never forget
how you make my heart sing.

Redstone is red.
What I made with you
was never quite perfect
but wonderful to do.

A flick of a wand,
hand symbols, a shout;
there's magic between us
I can't live without.

Aerith's jacket is red;
Zack's eyes are blue.
I'll become a hero,
if only to you.

Keyblades open most locks.
One opens the heart,
but you don't need that;
mine was yours from the start.

Blushes are pink,
like Pinkie Pie is.
When I've gone mad,
drag me back with a kiss.

You've been my companion
through much space and time.
Your meaning to me
is much more than this rhyme.

Roses are red;
violets are blue.
Let's start this again:
I'd like to dance with you.

I couldn't kill it

I've been thinking about what I really am. Obviously, I'll never understand exactly what I am, just like nobody else will. But, mainly, I've been clearing up to myself what I am to you. When I speak to you, I am a burden. When you ignore me, I'm a wreck. When you threaten me, I think that I'm a threat. That last part, though... what am I really capable of, I've been asking myself?

I was so worried when I heard today that you hadn't come home after school. I was worried sick that you were completely gone or you were going to vanish. I was so glad when I was told that people know where you are and that you're okay. You're probably even enjoying yourself. I really hope that you're enjoying yourself, wherever you are. I hope you're only having happy thoughts about me. And, surely, you're with at least one other person, so I hope that you and anyone you're with are enjoying your time together.

Worrying about you that much let me know what I'm capable of. I would not destroy you. I could not eliminate our relationship. I don't even know anymore if I'm capable of suicide. I didn't realize what I actually am when I asked, "Do you want her to be safe, or do you want me to live?" I'm not the sort of threat that I could jeopardize your existence nor mine.

I am incapable of killing us in any way. I love you too much. Maybe I love myself too much. Perhaps I even love the people who support me too much. Is this part of my healing, to realize that I'm rendered so helpless by my love? People keep telling me to be strong, but I've been loathing that more and more. No, I am weak. I am human, and I'm vulnerable. That's what I've always needed to realize. I'm not strong enough to control you, not strong enough to determine my own death, not strong enough to make anyone listen, and I should never again think that I am strong. Strength doesn't come from me, and it was never meant to come from me.

That's it, then. No more being strong. I'm weak, vulnerable, and loving. I'm human. And, of course, I'm yours.

A lovely friday the 13th

I was just thinking about how today, Friday the 13th, is right before Valentine's Day. I wonder how many people delivered their Valentine's lines earlier to avoid bad luck, and how many are putting it off until the day of. I'm almost certain that SDUSD gave students Friday off just because it was the 13th. "Well, there's a small reason to do it, and not really a reason not to do it," I imagine someone shrugging while drawing up the proposal. "It makes the students happy, avoids a day at school some may dread, and provides more time for Valentine's plans."

I haven't been wary of Friday the 13th for a few years. Even if it were to actually bring bad luck, I can't think of any bad luck that I would care about very much right now. In fact, if any bad luck were to occur, now would sure the most convenient time for it. Or maybe this year's bad luck with be not having anything bad happen at all, to wait for a time when it'll hit me harder?

Nah, I seriously don't believe in the whole Friday the 13th superstition. Same goes for Jason Voorhees, but it's entertaining to consider him. I never did actually watch anything exclusively in the Friday the 13th franchise. I watched the Angry Video Game Nerd play an old Friday the 13th game, and you and I watched Freddy vs. Jason together. It'd be a favor if he came after me today, so I'd say I'm safe from that, too. People in horror movies are only killed when they want to live, right?

I hope you haven't had any bad luck today. Don't be paranoid. The only horrible thing about today is that it isn't tomorrow, right? Heheh, enjoy yourself until then!

Wishing for a well weekend

I wonder what you'll be doing from tomorrow to Monday. I'm still confused as to why you get Friday off, but it isn't a complaint. I wonder what you'll be doing. The obvious is playing videogames and watching YouTube videos. But which videogames, and which videos? It's not like I've just now started to care about these things. I've always cared to know a bit every time I casually messaged you and asked what you were doing. It's kind of unbelievable how much knowing those things actually makes me happy.

And, of course, it's Valentine's weekend. If we were currently together, we'd have dinner together on Valentine's Day. I'd tell you that I discovered a different Boudin bakery than our usual, and how I want to check that out. But you'd insist on going to the Old Spaghetti factory. And, after all that we've been through, I'd oblige. I did get money the past week, so gas and tab would be something I could easily afford. Since the glasses we got on our first anniversary were shattered through time, we'd get some cream sodas and keep the cups to replace them at your house. I have the second pair that we got still at my house, untouched.

Where else would we go, now that I'm so eager to take you places? Well, right after our dinner I'm sure you'd go to bed, you sleepy, silly fox. But we've got a whole weekend to enjoy ourselves, so where would we go? We could go hiking, just you and me. Mission Trails or Torrey Pines, which would you like to walk? We could have a picnic somewhere nice and green. Speaking of green, I'd just avoid making a salad with lettuce altogether. We have some other leaves growing in my back yard that I think you would be less picky about. We could visit Balboa Park during the day to check out museums and, ah yes, you wanted to go into the botanical garden! I honestly only have faint memories of being in that garden. I would love to make new memories there with you.

I would spend as much time with you as I could. I understand that you'd like to spend time alone with her, if she were available, and I would give you that. For the rest of the weekend, you would have me close to you. But, it seems that we'll be spending the weekend without each other. I'll just remember that, last I saw, you still had my first Valentine's gift to you on your desk: the glass teddy bear inside the heart-shaped box. I'll smile, and I want you to have a lovely weekend.

Wounds

I've been a bit of a jerk to the people around me. I think I've been letting my indifference to people combine with my frustration. The way I'm acting now kind of reminds me of the way I was throughout elementary and middle school. So, what is it? Now that I've been broken, is it my true self that's showing? Or is this some sort of scab that protects my wound while I heal back into the person I became? I feel like it's the latter; my true self was the person who showed you everything. Not someone who was out to get others, but someone who was deeply hurt with self-inflicted lies as wounds.

If the emotional and psychological wounds could manifest on my body, what would they look like? Would they be bruises, bone fractures, lashes, stabs? Let's start with the lies I made myself believe. I think an appropriate manifestation for those lies would be bleeding out of my mouth. I feel empty when I make those lies, after all, and they flow up from my gut and out through my mouth. The pain of knowing that there is someone else who you share a love with but that she can't love me? I'll assign that to bruises swelling under much of my skin. The guilt of thinking about you when you refuse to acknowledge me is like a pointed rod stabbed into my lung, leaving my breath shallow and discouraged.

Behind every hateful, insensitive, and terrible person is a wound that has not healed. If you saw me with those wounds, I'm sure you'd be scared out of your wits. Actually, you were scared out of your wits when I revealed what I was dealing with. So I wonder whether you would have been better off experiencing my hurt as you did, or seeing it on my body? I think that, had you seen me with physical wounds, it would have been more obvious that abandoning me is not the correct course of action. You would have probably taken me to a hospital and stayed by my side as much as you could. Maybe you're gone because you can't see how my state deteriorates without you, and how I heal when I feel that I'm with you.

Still holding back

There are so many things that I want to tell you. There are so many times when I want to be with you. But I can't say and do these things, because you're so easy to overwhelm. I understand, of course. If I'm overwhelmed, I can't expect another person to simply be able to cope with my problems. You always thought you could do just that, and I started to believe you. It's been a painful reminder that people never even know themselves completely.

It takes strength to hold back, to carry oneself on. What we're doing isn't easy. I'm not at all justifying that you're trying to abandon me, please understand that. But I know that it's hard to not know what to do, so you blindly put your trust in someone else. We both have done that.

That's okay. We're human. Humans have faults. Human perfection is imperfection. And I will always love you.

Carrying on

Today I felt strong. Maybe it's partly because I felt so weak yesterday, so I'm relatively strong today? Even though I do still feel bad, I also feel that I can come up with a plan. I was frustrated today, but I was thinking rather clearly. I'm coming to good conclusions about my thoughts for once in quite a while. I'm more confident in myself and in life today.

One thing that has definitely helped is talking to you here. Not only is there still that hope that you'll read this, but according to statistics each of my posts prior to this one at this time has been read at least once by someone. Like I've said before, other peoples' caring all adds up, and on good days like today that certainly means something. I wonder how many people are simply reading to support me, how many are reading to try to understand, and how many are reading because they relate. I especially wonder if there is anyone who eagerly awaits my twice-daily divulgences. I missed one post on the 9th, but that's okay because I said a lot in the post I did make.

I was delighted this evening by something you told someone. You commented to a YouTuber that she should name one of the dogs in her Minecraft miniseries after my long-deceased cat. It makes me smile that things I've shared with you come to mind when you're happy. I wonder now if you can't bear to talk to me because you can't bear to see me so absolutely depressed? Do you like to always think of the good, happy, fun times we had together? I'm sure that you could just wish all my pain away; everyone who loves me wishes that. You could start toward fulfilling that wish by speaking to me again, but it'll be a while until you can know that that was always the answer.

Some things you said

I love you, Neko. You're the most important person in the world to me. I will never give up. We could have stayed together!
I'm stubborn. Who cares what they think? They don't know what we're like. I don't want you to hurt, but I don't wanna get hurt either. We'll be the weirdest best friends ever. You should come see me when it's over.

Faith is not only put in gods

My mom has been telling me to put more faith into my situation. Trust in God's plan, pray, et cetera. In this depression, everything except you matters less to me, though. Then again, we are talking about God, who's kept me alive and successful all this time. Even if He matters less right now in my perception, I do pray every night. I thank Him for keeping me alive and for the people who are talking to me and helping me. I thank Him for keeping me strong and ask for continuing strength. And I ask Him to soothe you...

I think you have more faith now than that time when I had to suggest to you to pray, right? You were so stressed out and anxious that time. You felt that you didn't have many people to talk to. So, I told you to talk to God, because He'll always listen. Sometimes He even does things for you. Right now you're scared and unsure again, so I hope that you're still praying. I think you are, because the night before our last night seeing each other, you said, "I'll pray to God that I'm in your dreams." And, whenever I have dreams, there you are. I love seeing you in dreams, which are always so pleasant when you're there. In that way, it's much like real life for me, that your presence makes everything so much better; of course, dreams are as close as I can get right now.

Maybe you're praying for me just like I pray for you. That would be the best, wouldn't it? I actually have a lot of trouble falling asleep without praying, now. There is another request I always make, and it's a much heavier one: I beg for you to be my friend again. I beg that you'll be able to talk to me, hold me, and care for me like before. I've never asked much from God before, so now that I suddenly need so much I feel undeserving of it because I'm not so devout. I feel like I need to start giving God more of my time if I want Him to answer these kinds of prayers.

I don't really like to think about any plan God may have, because I don't expect to understand it. That and, again, it matters very little to me in comparison to you. I wonder exactly what you pray for, and whether God will act on your prayers. To be honest, this whole post I haven't even been thinking about God. I've just been thinking about you and about us. That's how it is, now; I hope you realize how special you are to me. Yes, right now you're more important than God to me.