I'm Sorry

I haven't forgotten about you guys.

I guess I just haven't been keeping up with much of anything lately.

It's the 21st of March, and this is my first post of the new year. I'd wager it's a bit too late for a "happy New Year" coming into the second quarter of the year, but I hope you've all been well.

Going into this post, I know that I won't be able to cover everything-- too much has happened over the past month to truly do my story justice, but I'll try. Not hate or maliciousness is intended in this post.

I've seriously been meaning to tend to this blog because I have much to record, and much to ponder.

Let's get the less-important things out of the way first. See, I've recently become engrossed with the Souls game series. After playing the brilliance that is Persona 5, and the even more brilliant Persona 3, I couldn't help being underwhelmed by the fourth entry in the series.

I picked up Bloodborne on the recommendation of a friend of mine. I will admit, it took me a while to get a taste for the game, but my efforts were rewarded with one of the most engaging games I've ever played. I spent countless (and by countless, I mean about 200 hours) cleansing the foul streets of Yharnam over the course of a couple months, and earned the game's platinum trophy for my efforts.

I'd tried the Souls-like games in the past, and while I did decently from time to time, I never truly enjoyed nor appreciated them as I do now. Currently, I'm working on my playthrough of Dark Souls III. This has, unfortunately, been halted for a reason I'll discuss later in this post.

I have plenty of regrets in my life. Even though I'm eternally blessed with the wonderful people I've met and experiences I've had, there are a handful of things I would take back or change if I could.

One of such regrets is the fact that I never finished the blog post that included the story of how I met Lestat. And though our nearly four year-old relationship is lighthearted and filled to the brim with memes, I'm certain he wouldn't mind a deeper epitaph to mark his absence from my everyday life. This is, of course, because Lestat no longer lives in my apartment; he joined the army. In fact, he started boot camp on Monday, which was like 2 days ago. He scored beautifully on his ASVAB exams, and is permitted basically any job path he chooses.

I'm damn proud of him for making it this far in college so that he may deeply seat himself into a secure position in the Armed Forces. To be completely honest, Lestat, not unlike the other constants in my life, is a piece of me: a piece of my life, and a piece of my psyche. Coming to terms with the fact that Lestat will no longer be my roommate truly makes me hurt. Sometimes, I can't help but think that I took our friendship and his constant being here for granted at times. Our friendship means so much more to me than I made it seem from time to time, and I frankly owe him large quantities of happiness in return for how much of it he's given me. No homo, but I love him. I hope that, when all is said and done, I was a good friend to him. And now, he's hard at work, training to defend his country. I wholeheartedly hope that he's happy and that he finds the way of success (so that he can loan me some money, of course! ;D)

And now, the moment you've all been waiting for. Drum roll, please!

Jessie

I'm going to preface this section with a couple of points. Firstly, I harbor no ill will toward her, and will avoid throwing shade at her the best I can. I refuse to be that ex who talks shit about his significant other's back. Secondly, understand that, in an effort to respect her privacy, I might omit some details.

So you already know that we're no longer together if you picked up on the fact that I used the word "ex". Yes, the girl I promised myself in a previous blog post (and most assuredly, these feelings only grew stronger as time passed) I would marry one day is no longer mine. How it happened, I will say, is a fair combination of both of our faults. But man, it's hard to lose someone you care for like that. I mean, I loved this girl (and still do,) and I'm in that state of mind in which I'd do anything to have her back.

It just happened in the blink of an eye, and was a consequence of my poor word choice and timing. In retrospect, I fucked up badly, but what I did or said by no means meant that I don't love her.

I guess that, with this experience, I would say that this feeling I felt (of unconditional love) is different from what I've felt with anyone else. When I realized it was all over, the generic desperation to convince myself that it was all some kind of sick joke kicked in. I was in no way shape or form prepared to lose her, and I was utterly shocked to my core.

I guess you could say, that night, I went through some of the stages of grief all at once. See the image below:

I recall the shock vividly. In fact, that's the point in which so much of my thinking and pondering occurred. I felt paralyzed, to put it lightly.

I want you to, for a moment, consider the situation from my standpoint. Confronted with the situation, I thought back to the other moments in my life that ended up impacting it in a drastic way. Because of this, when I chose my words that night, I placed my highest priority in being sure that I wouldn't say anything that I couldn't take back.

I received my verbal battering, and it was heavily implied that it was over. I didn't know for sure, but I had this feeling in my gut that it was done for. Emotion had overtaken Jessie, and there was nothing that i could do to prevent it.

I suppose the denial came paired with bargaining. I begged and pleaded her, while she was still here, for her to give me another chance and that I could change, but it was ultimately for naught. While I'm not at liberty to state here the reason she decided to pack her stuff and leave, I can say that reason was not necessarily concerning myself. I think I did damn fine in this relationship-- there was merely an external factor (if you could call it that).

I think I can skip over anger, even though I do have some rational concerns with the reason that this all happened. I'll save those for my closing thoughts.

And now, I'm in the longest-lasting phase: the depression stage. It's this interesting "duality" in my mind; about half of it is legitimate yearning for the person I was closest to in these past few months, while the other half is purely heartsickness. What I mean is that, typically late at night, I yearn for the girl I shared my bed with, as well as just having her beside me. I just want to scream and kick my feet because I don't want to accept that she's gone. Even though I am, once again, surrounded by loving and caring people, it feels like she was the only thing that could shape my abstractly-shaped soul into something positive and harmless to myself. By the time of posting this, I'd have been working on this post for a few days, and it'll be a week since I lost her. And as each day slips away, it's increasingly more difficult to believe that, only a week ago, I was still sleeping beside her, without a care in the world. Everyday since has been a chaotic struggle for sleep, as I battle myself and my screaming insides.

I guess this all leaves me with a few questions. I hope this is in accordance to my previous thinking-- I don't want to say something that I'll regret, but I need to put my thoughts into writing. I need to immortalize them, as they're tearing me from the inside.

How much does she love me?

I have no doubt in my mind that she loved me, which gave me comfort in our relationship. Was she ready for a relationship like this? Well, there's a question I don't think I'll ever get an answer to. She obviously thought this through, and if she was so certain about walking away, then it was something that even I, the one I assumed she loved, couldn't solve. Was I not good enough? Was there nothing I could say to keep her here with me?

She kept telling me, "I don't want to leave," and, "I'm gonna miss this place," through tears. But in the days she spent here, while we were still broken up, she jumped at the opportunity to leave. If she felt so strongly about this decision deep deep deep down, then maybe she didn't love me as much as I thought she did. I'm not trying to pile on guilt for her, no, that's not it at all... I suppose it's just my thoughts acting up again. If she loved me and wanted things to work out, why didn't she let me try to mend things? Why did she have to leave then, in the dead of night? Maybe that's why night time kills me, to be honest.

The difference, I guess, is that I never foresaw myself  breaking up with her. Sure, there were stressful situations that continually ate away at me, but I never ever stopped loving her, nor did I try any less in our relationship. It doesn't seem fair.

But I'm done with that section. There's so much that I want to say, but I don't think I'd do my feelings the justice they deserve. I love her to death, even if she doesn't feel as strongly about this as I do. It's a natural reaction, but I'm not ready for it to be over. It's like a song, but before it's over, someone pops the CD out of the player. I want to know how it all ends, because the first verse was truly hypnotizing.

But, then again, this could be nothing more than a pipe dream, a delusion.

It's been nice catching up, dear readers. I hope we make each other's acquaintance soon enough.

I'm sorry for being gone so long.
I'm sorry for not letting you all I was doing alright.
I'm sorry to all the people I hurt along the way.
I'm sorry for being so cryptic.
I'm sorry for leaving you alone.
I'm sorry for not listening.
I'm sorry for shoving this down your throat again.
I'm sorry for taking you all for granted.

This blog, my thoughts, are a reflection of myself that will be etched into the worldwide web. To those who ride with me, and to myself-- I'm sorry.