March 10, 2014 my beautiful, loyal, halloween spooky black cat died

I came home, and I found him upstairs panting and crying for me. He couldn't walk ten steps before he collapsed. Less than three hours later, he died in my arms.

People keep asking me how I'm doing. I loved him. To be honest, I probably loved that little furry black cat more than I've ever loved anything or anyone, except my daughter. He never judged me, never hurt me, never made fun of me when I made mistakes.

How in the fuck do people think I'm doing? I'm not dead. To be honest, I'm not dead, because I don't want anyone else to feel the way I feel right now. I go back and forth between feeling completely empty, as though I just don't give a shit about anything at all. There is no point to being alive, not really. There's that, or to being absolutely furious, that he's gone. Because it isn't fair. He was the only thing I had, and he's gone. He loved me. And he's gone, and there's nothing I can do about it.

So the fact that I can't come up with anything constructive to talk about, or being positive, or looking ahead. You now what? Go fuck yourselves.

How many times have I propped people up, when they were this down, and I sure as shit didn't tell any of you that I had better things to do with my day that listen to you whine about how they feel, or how they didn't feel anything at all.

And there's the rage. 

So you want to know how I'm doing without him? That's how I'm doing. He's gone. I have to cope with it. But right now, the best I can do is not die, and not try to damage anyone else. I find it fucked up that the people who once knew me best, understood me best, could have understand that.

I'm already hurt and broken. Trust me, for all of the people who wanted me to suffer? You all got your wish. You wanted revenge? There you go. Congratulations. You won. You broke me.

Love vs Life - Yeah, that's me all right. It's always Controversial.

Love can change. Most people don't think about it in a literal way, but it's true. The way you feel about someone or something, can change day by day, minute by minute, even in an instant. And what are feeling? Well, bottom line, feeling end up in some fashion, love. Or hate, sometimes. They're emotions.

How you felt today may not be the same way that you'll feel tomorrow, but if we're talking about people, those feelings may still be love. Being "in" love tends to be misleading. I guess part of it has to do with chemistry and hormones, the high you get from feeling your pulse race and your skin burn and heat up.

What happens when the burning rush wears off? Now that's the question, right? Was it "love"? Or was it something else? And how do you figure that out?

Sex definitely complicates things. If you toss sex into the mix, it pretty much guarantees that it will make things more complicated, like trying to figure out love isn't hard enough, correct?

How do you get to know someone all the way, without that component? (Yes, I'm talking here to my adult readers). Can you? Possibly. Spending time getting to know someone is very important, whether you're looking for a relationship or just friendship.

Using the Internet has changing the world, and the rules, in a way that makes me sort of nervous about getting to know new people at all sometimes.

I've learned, not that I didn't know it before, that people lie. But it's so much easier to lie in the virtual world than it is in the physical world.

If you lie in a small town, those lies will catch you pretty fast. Online? Not so easily, and sometimes not at all. A scary image there, isn't it?

Who can you trust? Yourself? Instinct? Trust me, I am *not* the expert here. I crash and burn too.

You, yes. Back to love. People, *all* people, are imperfect. If you are out there looking for the perfect person who will make all your dreams come true? It's a fantasy.

If you're looking for someone who will "complete" you? You're going to be constantly disappointed.

Until you know yourself, love yourself, accept your strengths and your weaknesses on your own, and understand that you yourself are lovable and can love yourself on your own terms, when you can *really* see that?

That is when you'll see that you'll be able to compliment and embrace someone else. You don't need to be perfect. Neither does anyone else. Love, all love, isn't perfect.

It's a matter of understanding, accepting, supporting without overwhelming, and standing on your own two feet - but being willing to accept a hand if someone offers it when you need it.

Love does not demand, it gives support without crowding, it gives space to grow.

I guess I understand that now. Love can wait, there is no rush to get somewhere. It's a journey, not a destination.

Maybe life and love are the same?

Just a thought.

for green cookies, stir fry dinners, dogs down playing at the river, family, and love...please don't forget...I'm so sorry...

No one enjoys being a blind idiot. Well, I suppose some people do, but I'm not one of them.

I also don't particularly enjoy hurting people, or hurting myself. As it turns out, I managed to do both, without ever realizing it. Problem with the whole fucking situation? It happened so many years ago that by now, as it has been so nonchalantly put it - that ship has long since sailed, and I wasn't on it, and even if I try to take a new ship to get there, I'm fairly sure I'm not welcome anymore.

Have you ever stopped and looked at your life, looked back at it, and wondered where the time went? Thought about the choices you made, or the decisions you've made, and wondered what would have happened if...?

The truth is, that's not something I have ever spent a lot of time thinking about. Suddenly I've been thinking about such things, and I gotta say, it sort of sucks. I was always one of the people who knew that you can't change the past, so dwelling on it didn't do a whole lot of good, so what was the point, right?

Yeah, well, apparently I was just sticking my head in the sand so that I didn't need to deal with the emotions and loss that could and does come with it. I think I'd rather be oblivious. It doesn't hurt as much.

I used to lament my missing memories, because I thought it was a curse. As it turns out? Maybe it wasn't so bad. Knowing what I lost, sometimes, it really really hurts more than I ever imagined.

I saw something once that told me that I should write about what I know. This is what I know.

I'm thirty six years old. I am far from perfect. I made the worst made in judgement imaginable and it cost me something and someone I may never get back, and that's something I have to learn to accept. It is going to take some time, possibly a lot of time, to heal from the wounds I put myself in a position in to be damaged this badly from. I need to figure out who I am now, and where it is that I want to go from here.

The only thing I know for sure, with all of the mixed up things in my screwed up life, is that I *do not* want to lose my friends.

I allowed myself to be isolated and I'm sorry for that, but I can't change it. I hope you love me enough to forgive me and my stupidity, and will love me still, and come back, because I still love you.

Day by day, I'll get stronger, and as time passes, I *will* heal.