Then we sang loud in the dying streets

I would just like to take this opportunity to quickly say that I am a very happy person. I only seem to post blogs when I'm feeling down or particularly negative or confused about a certain subject. But most of the time I'm happy and laughing and smiling. I think when I'm feeling differently is when I have a lot of emotions that need to be expressed whereas when I'm happy and content it's just the norm so there's no need to express it. Does that make sense? Even with all the sadness and personal tragedy I've experienced, I can usually look deep enough and find humor and happiness and beauty in all of it.

Take that.

I'm asking you on a date for the rest of your life

You don't know what you got til it's gone.

I've been thinking about you a lot. So much a lot! I can't believe I knew you and loved you and experienced you. I feel so honored, to be honest. Four days! Four days was all it took to create a friendship that lasted the rest of your life. I can't believe I actually had to guts to hop on a train and meet you--an almost complete stranger--in Manhattan after only knowing you for a few hours. What a strange coincidence it was that we were in the right place at the right time.

Remember sitting in Union Square and being left alone and just talking. And I think that's when you told me about your dad, that he died when you were 17. And I told you that my dad too, except I was 14.

And then that night we sat on my mom's back deck and we drank beer and talked about life and the end of the world. The apocolypse! We talked about the apocolypse and I demanded you stop because it freaked me out. Do you remember?

Sitting outside the side door and having a conversation in Spanish about why we couldn't have sex that night. And you told me that your relationship was doomed to fail and I should've known then that mine was too.

Two shots of 99 Bananas and another conversation on my mom's front stoop in the warm, humid Long Island night and you kissed me. And I kissed you back and it was the most wonderful makeout session of my life. And I was scared that my mom, or my sister or your friend would catch us. But I didn't care because it felt right and it was right and I knew it was right.

And you promised! You promised me that you would move to San Francisco and you would take care of me. We'd have a beautiful apartment somewhere--anywhere--and you would pay for what I couldn't afford. You said "I think we'd make a really good couple" and I said "When my boyfriend and I break up we'll get married." and you said "I'll be dead by 30." And of course you were.

But you loved me! You really really loved me and everything there was to love (and hate) about me, you loved it all! You wanted to take care of me, you would do anything in your power to make sure I was happy and well taken care of. All you cared about was me.

I'm sorry things were so twisted and I'm sorry hindsight is so clear and I'm sorry I thought I was in love with something that ended up being a failure. It was you I was in love with, you I was weant to be with. I wish you were here with me right now. I will never love anybody the way I loved you and I'm sorry I was too blind to see what was right in front of me, waiting. That too...waiting you were waiting for me.

I was so lucky and so stupid! I love you!

You came to me like a dream, the kind that always leaves just as the best part starts

It ends so abruptly.

So far, so good. I'm updating from the wonderful Rosenberg Library at City College of San Francisco, still waiting for my laptop to come back to me. I feel pretty somber right now, blank I guess, but not in a bad way.

I cried about my dad last night for the first time in a couple of months. I was writing a piece of my story and caught the picture of him on my desk, the one of him and Chuck E. Cheese from my birthday party. Then I looked at other pictures of him and my family. It's been about 6 years since he was diagnosed and still, it all feels so surreal. Maybe that's the benefit of living away from my family, I can't see them so I can't see he's not there so it just feels like he's there and I haven't talked to him in a while. Does that make sense? I thought about it, though, last night. The fact that he's dead. I guess it's just one of those things that you never get over, when a parent dies. Maybe you can't ever get over it when anyone close to you dies. I talk a lot about getting over Jonathan's death and Daniel's death but really, maybe I never will. It's still early for them, so I rightfully shouldn't be over them yet. But who knows, maybe I will never stop being sad about that. I look back on my life with my dad fondly, so many happy and tingly feelings when I think of him. He was a fantastic dad, what a great dad. Yeah, it makes me happy to think about what we had but sometimes it does make me sad. It feels good to cry over him.

This week has been pretty great so far. I decided to take today as a lazy day so rather than riding my bike the mile to school and then the 6 miles to work and back home, I'm driving. My muscles are killing me, I guess in a good way. But I think they need a chance to recouperate before I start riding that far again. I kind of like secluding myself, so long as I have a say in it. Not that anybody's been trying to call me and get me out of the house or anything, but yeah, I can think of all that's been fucked up and be kind of angry or upset about it but not be sad that I'm angry or upset. I still hope things can work out. I hope my guy friends are right when they say that all this will take is time. I hope he was genuine when he smiled at the idea of starting over. I want him back and that feeling.

I'm still hating my job, a lot but it's been more bearable this week, maybe because the job itself coincides with my want to be alone or something? I don't know but I have an interview/test thing with Amtrak on the 14th. I can only pray to whatever being in the sky there is that it all goes well. Dream job plus an AA in liberal arts. A kickass job and not having to go to school anymore. Could anything be more perfect?