DC sleeps alone tonight

Life comes at you fast. It doesn't stop to offer a hand when it hits. It doesn't offer to take you out for coffee to catch up 3 years later, either.

I suppose there is always a question of why. Why did this happen? Why didn't this happen? Why did this happen at this time? Why, why, why? Why did I start this stupid thing? Create another fingerprint or thumb mark that no one but myself reads? There isn't any purpose or point, really, and this entity is another ignored link on my Firefox bookmark toolbar. But not everything needs a well-defined purpose to exist and not everything in life needs to make sense with the tools we have at the time to try to understand them.

Why am I skirting around the issue? This is ridiculous.

On October 22nd, 2010 my 18 year-old little brother died. I wish I could post some sort of time, but I don't know exactly when he passed away. Life changed entirely after I got that phone call from Mom, saying he was cold and blue. I don't think this type of experience leaves one very easily, and this may very well be one of the biggest life defining sections of my personal timeline.

A lot of things I thought I no longer think. For instance, I no longer think that I need anyone in life to be happy in any way. People are very nice to have around, but all you really *need* is yourself. Loved ones are a luxury, I suppose, albeit one of the best luxuries around. This is a combined result of pulling closer while pushing away as a family whole, and getting dumped 3 weeks after my little brother's passing. Everything in life becoming a series of mini or gigantic question marks as a result of the loss probably had something to do with it, too.

I started this thing to pour out what was inside my heart and head, because maybe I didn't feel like I had the appropriate outlet within the blend of relationships and activities in my life at the time. I was actually kind of bummed that something didn't work out with someone I had dated about a year or so before I made this blog, so I made the blog to empty my insides. I empty my insides on the internet all of the time, but having something I know no one else I know knows exist felt sort of liberating. Ya know? I didn't get that closure and I created this as a means to try to fabricate that closure. Interestingly enough, the guy I dated briefly and encouraged some of these initial posts has become a solid pillar of a friend and I've since found closure via long talks about shared and not-so-shared philosophies of life.

Really it wasn't a big deal. I'm a grown up, I understand not everything is going to work for the right reasons even though I wanted to. I moved on and such, but I felt like I was still stuck somewhere -- like I had ran through a muddy field and part of my shoe got caught in the process and I was caught looking back in slow motion, barely starting to notice. Or maybe more similar to that nagging feeling in the back of your head that you forgot something, until you get home from work and open the fridge and realize you forgot to pick up milk.

So I made this blog.

Now perhaps I pursue this digital jurisdiction in hopes of finding closure on a bigger hill -- a Mount Everest of sorts. A mountain to end all mountains that makes my jaw drop, cartoon character style, when I look up to the tippy, white marshmallow capped top. Where's that gatling gun when I need it, or MacGyver modified rocker launcher that shoots spears entwined with rope that I can use to climb up?

I know I can put one foot forward and continue on with life because I already have, I know sometimes I don't necessarily want to do it. I miss how life was before October 22nd, but before I think I missed everything about how life was, and now I realize parts of it were a lie. I sacrificed and gave myself too much to That Thing Called Love, because I felt it and the other person didn't. Sometime in November it all came to a head, one way or another, and I only wish he had worked up the ca-hones to do it earlier instead of bleed things out painfully.

Anyway, perhaps this will turn into a purely therapeutic exercise while I'm waiting to get into therapy. I share feelings, emotions and inner turmoils with close loved ones but there's always a 65% chance of failure of some sort -- whether there's a failure to communicate, interpret, analyze or discuss. Sometimes I can't sleep and I just want someone to talk to, but when I wake up and find one of my roommates awake they try to give me advice as if they've experienced the lost of a sibling and relationship and know what to do. As if they've been in my shoes and know any better. Sometimes I would rather hear "I'm sorry"s or an attempt to cheer me up or distract me than fold out directions on the next steps I have to take, and how I need to just get over these hurdles and move on with my life. On the other hand, sometimes I get the "I'm sorry this happened to you"s and the "Allow me to distract you whilest I cheer you up and pretend like I didn't hear any deep emotion in what you just said" and I really don't want it.

The fact of the matter is that there isn't one person or thing that can help. Nothing will bring my little brother back and that's what hurts the most. I don't care so much about the ex-boyfriend -- if anything that just complicates things because my emotional processing is sometimes so different than it would be if that relationship had ended sooner or was still continuing. That was just bad timing overall and will be gone in a flash compared to how long it will take me to learn to live without one of my best friends since birth. It's impossible to explain your connection with someone and do it complete justice when they've never met that other person.

In some ways I look for a quick fix but deep down know there isn't any. I'm potentially doing horribly in school, not showing up to work on time since I've come back, moving for the third time in 3 months, moving my last family member that lived by me (Mom) up to the rest of the family members in the northern area of my state and trying not to tell myself that being alone isn't going to be hard, wanting so badly to feel the thrill of love to take my aching away, wishing I was ready to start treating people better in my life and hoping that the people that matter won't hold it against me when I bail out on social occasions that I suggested or give into the paralyzing social/phone anxiety I've developed since this has happened.

It is hard to tell people about the loss of concentration, lack of focus and impossibility to self-discipline at the moment. It is so much easier to push on and allow people, for the most part, to not worry too much about me because I put on a "I'm doing better than I seem" mask. Partly because sometimes I am doing better than I seem, and also partly because even if I'm not doing better than I seem, there's a huge chance they won't be able to help. And this is coming from the girl that used to make everyone in their life talk about what was bothering them at the time because "talking about it" was so important.

I want to be forgotten about but I don't want to be forgotten. I want people to treat me normally, as if this hasn't happened, yet I want them to not forget it happened to me. I want to go out on dates and find someone to get close to because being with someone would probably be kind of nice right now, but I know I'm either not ready or just frankly not interested. That previous sentence could be summed up as "I want to be with someone but I would rather not have to focus on anyone else other than myself right now." I want to lose the weight my body gained as a result of eating normally after only eating 0.5 - 1 meal a day from mid-October to January.. but I also want to splurge in the comfort of food sometimes. I want to run and keep up my exercise/diet regimen but a huge part of me wishes I could just stay in bed for 3 weeks and cry all of this out.

Unfortunately, though, life comes at you fast. And there is no pause button. This is all just another matter of one foot in front of the other, one minute of each day at a time, until I'm looking down from the white-capped, gooey marshmallowy-ness and have already eaten 2 s'mores.