this is my most pathetic post ever.

i've got a lot going on in the brain right now, so i'm just going to write it out. and here it goes:

my life is great. it is absolutely wonderful. things have been rough lately, losing love, whitney, and pa, but really, i should bounce back from that in time. i have amazing friends, and by amazing, i mean people who stand beside me no matter what, stick up for me when i need it, and who are there no matter what tragedy i'm going through. i have the most wonderful family that anyone could ever ask for. we thrive off of each other, and i rely on them so much. i'm so lucky to have such a great net of support around me.

nothing is going wrong. everything from the outside looking in looks so incredibly perfect. school is fine, annoying, but fine. amazing things are happening in my potential-career life, too. i'm networking and making contacts that seem too-good-to-be-true, to be quite cliche.

i've always been fond of my alone time-- everyone used to complain about the nights where i just felt like staying in and sleeping, myspace-ing, or watching a movie alone. but lately, alone time is getting to me more and more. it's not so bad during the day, but at night, i don't know. i just get sad. it seems like i get teary, sentimental, depressed even, for no reason at all.

tonight i was hanging out with emmalee and tyler, like usual, having a good time in the freezing cold on the porch, and it was great. everyone got tired, so they went home, and by home, i mean tyler's house, and i came in. i put away the awesome halloween cookies that i made, came in and laid down, and called tommy. i woke him up, which was mean of me. we got off the phone, AIMed for a few minutes, and i sent him to sleep in his east coast lameness.

and now i'm sitting here in bed, kind of cold and really sad. but what the hell am i sad about? i have absolutely no reason to be sad right now. i'm swallowing my effexor daily, so i dont get it. its supposed to take away the depression symptoms, isn't it? so is there something really wrong with me on a deeper level? am i really just fucking crazy? sometimes i just don't understand myself.

i'm pretty sure no one ever reads this, which is good. i like it that way. this is MY place. i let the private stuff out here, and i generally don't want people to see me in the state that im usually in when i post blogs. i'm a sad blogger, i guess. some of my posts have been pseudo-happy. some angry. most, sad. idk. i just dk.

i'll probably not sleep tonight. i usually don't sleep much when i'm like this. maybe i'll actually get some laundry done in the early morning hours while it freezes outside. shit, speaking of freezes, i need to add antifreeze to my car and cover the bushes with sheets. i'm off to do that, since occupying my stupid mind is generally a good thing to do. it keeps me from having self pity. i'd rather have self disgust than self pity.

kessi, out.

and everything changes..

my past month seems so trivial, so unnecessary now. i wasted my time being upset about the ryan/jamie thing. i wasted time that needed to be spent elsewhere, worrying about the things that still matter-- my mom's cancer wasn't enough to bring me to my senses. it took the death of a friend to snap me back to reality... how sad is that?

but i have more questions than answers in this time of revelation. why? i don't understand anything. this beautiful woman that whitney was! with friends and family who loved her so much.. i don't understand what would make her feel that there was no way out... everyone is so hurt now, so helpless. whitney decided to end her own life on saturday while the rest of us slept, or, in my case, sat on the front porch with tyler fighting a hangover. while we sat, she left us forever. i just don't understand, whit. i just don't get it. why? why babe?

our little community has come back together-- corey said it best when he said that the only time we're all here at once is for a funeral. we've become each others' support systems; we've networked and come up with an information passing system. and we all cry. but we cried together. so shocked, so hurt, so confused, so lonely, but together.

coming back to seguin was hard.. almost as hard as driving home on saturday after i found out. i have wonderful friends here who listen, who hug, who sympathize... but its not the same. they don't know... how wonderful she was at encouraging everyone, how beautiful her smile was. she left behind her twin brother! how could she leave taylor? and ashley? and her parents? and vicki? everyone.. i just don't understand.

i just don't get it, whitney. why?

i never will understand.

september is looking up.

i made it through the first week alone... but i was never really alone. i have the most amazing friends and the most tolerant room mates ever and i LOVE them. i've cycled through the entire grief process, reverting and settling in at "mildly devastated and confused." i think this is where it stands for a while, and i'm going to accept that. i have other things to worry about...

...like writing a paper for vrooman's class about the effects of color and shot in Judy Garland's 1949 musical, "Meet Me in St. Louis" which i absolutely hated. i just don't care. and its even harder to get motivated to do anything for vrooman since he refuses to give out any marks higher than a 'b' and he only gives 1-2 of those each week. last week just wasn't my week. 3.75/5 points.. sucks.

i used an oil extracting face masque a few days ago and all of the toxins that were sucked out of my skin have manifested themselves all over my face; it has to get worse before it gets better.. but worse is gross as hell. my skin handles stress very poorly... and i've had enough stress. with the whole ryan/jamie thing on top of 3-5 pages due each week for vrooman, 3-5 pages due each week for dr. johnston (which i don't mind much, actually.. her class is fun), worrying about my project for design, the task of trying to figure out what dr. bollinger actually wants us to do for comm. and ID, and annoying emails from the one staff writer that has ever cared flooding my inbox daily, i have as much acne as a high school freshman boy going through puberty. gah.

things are getting better. really, they are. i've stayed busy. wednesday, we went to cowboys and i was drunk. it was a good feeling. emmalee drove me, and i was really excited to get to hang out with her. i like her a lot. her friend, mallory, was really cool too. the mixture of people (courtney--her birthday!, jpitt, cale, tyler, kimmy, cody, em and mal, lana, sketchy dave, leann) was really random, but it ended up being one of the better cowboys adventures i've been on. i'm looking for a repeat this week. friday night brought a soccer party down the street, and our house ended up being (in haby's words) the VIP section. i tend to like the small gatherings of non-vomiting friends that take place in my kitchen. and, haby is right-- our big red couch does add a celeb-section feeling to the house. the rest of the weekend was lazy. i slept a lot and laid around more than i should have. it was great.

kelly is stopping by my parent's house on her way back to TLU, and she's picking up my honey!! i'm so excited. mollie won't know what to do with herself this week, but honey needs the break, and i need my chihuahua. kimmy and sarah are more excited than they're letting on...

i dreamed last night about matt, a guy from sophomore year of high school. i'm not really sure what the dream was about, but i woke up with a smile on my face. i think it was just one of those good memory dreams. it weird though, his face keeps ducking in and out of my memories. hrmm. katy boys... gah.

anyway, just wanted to document that things are looking up. effexor is a good idea for me in times such as these.

here's to a good september.

september 1, 2007

today has been easier. so far, so good. i think the lingering alcohol from last night is still helping.

it still sucks, but its easier to deal with the suckiness now.

it's thundering outside. i hope it storms.

tears.

because of you i never stray too far from the sidewalk.
because of you i've learned to play on the safe side so i don't get caught.
because of you i find it hard to trust not only me but everyone around me.
because of you, i am afraid.

but you'll never read this. so i'll say it, pretending you might. i don't want you back. i don't even want you to exist. you were a lie, just like the lies that you told me. it was only 4 years of my life. i'll make up for them in no time.

still documenting the stages. i'm at a cross between "extreme grief" and "anger" now. enjoy. i hear there are still 3 stages to come. coming next: rationalization.

if it gets worse before it gets better...

i've confided in my closest friends now. the hours of sitting alone crying when i first found out couldn't last forever. even if i tried to contain it, i couldn't hide my emotion-- my tears fall involuntarily, uncontrollably. i've told them, but not the whole story. i can't disclose the complete facts. it hurts too much. i'm too much of a fool in the truth. at least i can keep some dignity by telling the almost-truth.

the truth is that i want to call him, but there is no him. the truth is i have already forgiven, but i still have a grudge. it comes back every time i think about any of this. how much of a fool i am. how naive can one girl really be? i've surpassed even my own limits of denial.

four years. for years of deception. and i never picked up on it. never second guessed him. not once.

everything is a reminder. every movie that we watched together, nearly every song in my library has some meaning from our "relationship" attached to it. bullshit.

yet, somehow i understand. i have those same desires; to be accepted unconditionally, to just be loved. yet it was all a fantasy... and i was the one who needed to let go of my fantasies? hilarious. heartbreaking, crushing, agonizing, and hilarious.

i can't concentrate. i'm consumed by the outrage, the hurt, the blindsided sweep of emotions. sweep, that reminds me, too. everything i say, do, think reminds me of who i thought he was. God, how wrong can you be about someone who you think you know? i can't go out with friends, i just sit home and cry. i can't study because my thoughts get lost in the text and drift back to some moment from the past four years that i know now was never real. i can't sleep because i dream that things are the way that they used to (appear to) be. damn it.

and just that day! just that day we had spoken about how we were the others only complete confidante! "you are the only person who knows everything about me." ..everything but the most important thing. i knew everything all right. every lie. everything that was fantasy, i knew. reality, i knew nothing of.

and i laid it all out there for this person, only to be screwed again, in the end, in the ultimate, most painful manner.

i'll never trust again. and that sucks so bad. again, tears.

so much for keeping this semi-professional..

i no longer possess the ability to trust. i have been lied to in an unforgivable way, and i will not mend easily. i may never heal. it is a hopeless, worthless, no good, down right crappy feeling. i don't even know how to pray for it to be better.

what do you do when you're too hurt to function? when pain consumes your mind and numbness sets into your body, but the tears keep falling... how do you stop it when the reality is that it will never get better? it will never be okay. it will always hurt. it will always be there. it will never go away. never change. never. never. forever is so long to hurt for...

how do i forgive? and, God.. how can i forget? i just want to forget. forget it all. forget the effort, the emotion, the time. everything. just gone. erased. stripped. how? how? how do i focus on the more important things.. the things that don't hurt? how do i pray? numb.

a bit of tolerance, please?

i had the privilege of traveling to baltimore, md. a week ago for an associated collegiate press workshop for student editors. i knew that i would learn a lot about journalism, but i never imagined i'd learn so much about life and the shallow, static minded world that i live in.

i had planned the trip about a month in advance of our departure. i knew that i wanted to attend the workshop, but i didn't want to fly to the east coast alone, so i thought about the lsl staff who might want to attend as well. (i will take this time to admit that, as independent as i pretend to be, i am a dependent creature who craves company.)

i thought about all of my colleagues and decided that the person who deserved to travel to this conference needed to fit a list of criteria: 1) a staff member who showed promise of sticking with the lsl for a while 2) someone who was eager to learn more in order to help our publication and himself and 3) someone who was willing to jump on a plane and fly to the east coast with me.

my adviser counseled that i should take an underclassman who could really take what was offered and apply it to the staff for a few years to come. that made the choice evident: ryan brown, sophomore online edition editor, should be invited to accompany me on this trip.

after talking to ryan and confirming that he wanted to go (note: his enthusiasm was extremely refreshing!) i put the trip to the back of my mind for a few weeks.

when my alarm went off at 3 a.m. on the morning of aug. 2, i thought twice before i hit the snooze button. i had a 7 a.m. plane to catch, and i was scheduled to meet ryan at the san antonio airport at 5 a.m. (gross.) the worst part was the hour long drive on that lonely stretch of i-35 with the drunks and the rig drivers. i did begin to get excited when i called ryan to make sure that he was on his way to the airport.

i arrived at sat a few minutes before ryan did, so i checked in and checked my luggage. there was a starbucks coffee across from the delta ticket counter, so i ordered my cafe mocha and sat to wait on ryan to arrive. a middle-aged man sat next to me and thumbed through the day's issue of the san antonio express news. after a few minutes, he noticed me peering through the glass and asked me if i was waiting on someone. i nodded and stood up as ryan walked around the corner.

"there he is, in fact," i said.

the man gazed through the glass. when he saw that ryan and i were waving, he gave me a smug, "oh," and turned away from me.

i didn't think much of this. in fact, i'm not sure that i had given it a second thought until about three days later. ryan checked in. we went through the security check point, and sat at our gate for a while. (irony: we ended up seeing two of our professors and kyle, the director of reslife while sitting at the airport at 6 a.m.) we boarded our plane, and off we were to baltimore (after a nice, long, unappealing layover in atlanta).

we grabbed our baggage and headed to the taxi claim, caught a cab, and were ripped off when we weren't offered the airport departure rate to our hotel. we walked up to the check in counter at the marriott inner harbor at camden yards and were half-heartedly greeted by tavia, a wide-eyed black woman who appeared to be in her early 40s. this is where our real adventure began.

tavia eyed me suspiciously, with a look of malice that i couldn't help but notice. i really didn't take time to think about the reasoning behind her less-than-cheerful expression at me; after all, working as a hotel receptionist must be trying. i paid my half of the bill (ryan and i were splitting our hotel room) and ryan stepped up to pay his half. she greeted him with a smile and proceeded to help him and encouraged him to enjoy his stay, as she flicked me another bad look. i bit my tongue and didn't say anything; it wasn't worth starting our trip on a sour note.

we settled in for the night. neither of us had slept for nearly 30 hours, so a night's rest came unopposed.

the following morning, we attended various workshops on journalism, where we took notes and started dreaming up improvements that can be made for our publication. after a few hours of solid work, we decided to take the six block walk from the marriott to the harbor at camden yards to find a bite to eat and do some shopping.

as we walked together, talking over our plans for the lsl online edition, i couldn't help but notice that ryan and i were getting unusual stares from strangers-- mainly white men and black women. i subconsciously checked myself in car reflections a few times, but i couldn't find anything wrong with my outward appearance so i shrugged off the looks and continued to tour the harbor and enjoy a p.f. chang's dinner.

the next day, ryan and i returned to the inner harbor to get a little shopping done. we found a great mall and headed into a shoe store. i found a great pair of closed toe canvas wedges and ryan headed for the sun glasses. i was about to find out exactly why people had been giving me dirty looks since i had first noticed them in the airport coffee shop.

the shoe store clerk handed me my shoes to try on and she leaned down to ryan and whispered, "why are you with her?"

she turned back around, slipped me another ill look, and walked off, peeking at ryan over her shoulder.

suddenly, it all made sense. people had a real problem seeing a young, white woman with a young, black man.

to the public eye, ryan and i were not colleagues traveling together on a business trip, and we certainly were not friends out on a shopping trip. we, this man and this woman, must be a couple. i laughed out loud.

ryan and i discussed the issue openly, as soon as i realized what the silent commotion was all about. he admitted that he had been getting stares and comments since the beginning of the trip every time he was seen with me.

i was dumbfounded. i just didn't (and still don't) understand why it was such a big deal to complete strangers that i was traveling with a black man. why does the thought of an interracial couple bother people so damn much? while both ryan and i knew that there were no romantic ties or implications at all, the rest of the world automatically assumed that there would be no other explanation for our company. it genuinely bothered people to see ryan and i together. it made people mad.

and that made me confused. i haven't ever dealt with racism before. i've been sheltered in a small town where everyone was friendly, regardless of race (for the most part) and it was never a big deal to be seen with any one shade of skin.

naivety. sweet, horrid naivety.

suppose, for a second, that i, a white woman, was in a relationship with a black man, such as ryan brown. if i am happy, why and how would that cause anyone to be affected in a negative way? why, and how, can love be anything but good? does love recognize the boundaries of color? my boyfriend, whose name is (conveniently) ryan, is a white man. but, if he were black, would i live in that world where people hate me and i am referred to as "her" in such a negative way, every day? should the color of my skin affect who i travel with? who i shop with? who i mingle with?

i'm not asking for everyone to be in an interracial relationship but i am asking for a little tolerance, please.