Hi hun,
I love you! It's tough sometimes to do what we want to do, especially because we are so concerned about what others think about us. Whether it is our parents and what they think, we try to brush it off and not think about it. But, it's not so easy sometimes is it? Only recently, my mom goes and has a small fit about us moving into together for the year while I take my extra courses. Your mom still bets that I'm going to leave you and break you. We have our own fears too. I was worried about social etiquette, and you had worries about yourself.
But, we make the situation and our fears work to keep us together and our love strong. You should see our pictures from our get-together on Wednesday. They were so beautiful, beautiful moments captured in a single shot. I love them, and I love you!
Despite our differences and despite the troubles we face in our minds, we need to find ways to keep us sane and together. I don't know where life is taking me, but I hope and I want to believe that life will take you with me to share with you our life together. I love you!
Friday, August 31, 2007
Monday, August 13, 2007
can it get any better?
hun,
this weekend was magical. Simply magical. When I asked you to write an entry about this weekend. That word was probably the only thing I wanted to say about it all.
When you came to pick me up and I was walking back to meet you at the gas station, I knew I made the right choice for us. Mostly, I wanted to be there for you because you had claimed that your mom would appreciate the 'help' and also I knew you were aching to see me after our little scare. I admit I really wanted to work out the details at home to come and see you. It was nice, I had my books to read on the bus, because I had nothing to look out the window for. I hid my shirt and my scarf (the one you so blindly but lovingly bought for me) in my backpack all ready for a good weekend. And it was.
You were dazed, but you were happy and excited to see me. That would be the first of the many 'excited' feelings I was aware of. You were definitely excited alot this weekend. I hope you can recover. :)
Anyway, it was off to Tim Horton's as expected, and it seemed right off the bat, I knew that your mom was gonna be annoying again. She quipped about your 'long' order and that made me feel unimpressed. Here's your daughter in pain and trying to recover from something and you'd complain about the mundaneity of a complex order. Sure, if only if life were so simple for an adult!
But then I think it was really amazing when we finally got to bed. Probably one of your favourite places to be with me, until at least you discovered another one later during my visit. I admit I was anticipating and it didn't disappoint. We got to snuggle, and I think I said 'snuggly-wuggly'. You kissed me like you said you would, and I tried not to kill you from the pain. It was such a sensual experience having to harness our passion and our love into gentle, unpainful kisses. But overall we cuddled and just held each other.
Soon, after some sort of queue, we decided to talk for another two to three hours after your mom and norm went to bed. We talked about alot of very personal and expressive things, which I brought up because I had just finished reading your diary that you sent to me. I wanted to be fair by letting you ask about something you wanted to know about me most. Then I asked about what I wanted to hear from you in reaction to things I read in your diary. I told you why I wanted to know, and basically I didn't want to take something from you without conscious consent. I said I wanted us to share all our relationship in every way. Sharing. Another word that could powerfully describing our weekend, if not ideally, our whole relationship. We share lots of things. Thoughts, ideas, pains, and a moo-latte.
I think it felt more powerfully aware for me that I wanted to make sure we shared everything, and that included your pain, physically and mentally. You had worries and you had a constant reminder of pain in your mouth. I think I embraced it with you by holding you and consoling you and by just doing anything that could help you transfer that pain away from you and into me to be dissolved, like salt in the ocean. (If you didn't get that part, ocean symbolizes something so big, salt is nothing compared to it, hence salt is pain) Yeah, sorry I didn't mean to ruin the symbolism for you.
We went to sleep and surprisingly woke up quite early. It was nice and bright outside, a perfect morning wake up call. You gave me a treat, the same one you gave the night before. It was great and you said you weren't any good at making the treat. Soon after, we decided to make Sunday morning breakfast. It was awesome. We cooked together, although I know you felt like I was taking over. I really wasn't. We were making breakfast together. It was shared.
So then after church (see how I skipped church? yeah, it was that boring, like you admitted to me), I started making references to faith. Yeah, I thought that sermon was ok, at least the subject matter seemed appropriate. I reminded us that faith could be one of our strengthening tools. But like you know, a damper was put on that day, as it would naturally be, Man United could only pull a frustrating draw against Reading, and having to lose Rooney to injury.
Well after, we napped, our early morning caught up to us, while your mom and norm watched the dumb movie they were subjecting themselves to. Then we went to dairy queen to ultimately share a moo-latte. You really liked it, despite your premature opinion that you wouldn't like it. Oh well! You had a caramel one at dinner. Yum. I remember tasting a bit of it when we kissed at some point during that night. So then, Joellen came over and you really liked having her back. She at least seemed to enjoy having you back. I was quiet, not sure why. I think I was mostly tired, and second, I had nothing to say. Then after everyone went to bed, we enjoyed some more cuddling. I remember saying 'Let's just cuddle for now and ... later'.
Monday morning was just a good sleep-in, one of many I'm sure we can have in our lifetime. It seemed a perfect closing to a magical weekend. Magical. We could only stare and caress each other in just the right way. You gave me two amazing massages. I remember thinking, wow, she's been practicing. (... on who, I wonder?). It was really good and made me feel better and relaxed. There's more to say, but I think you'd have covered it, or we'll just share it at a later date.
All in all, hun, I wanted to help you get better and recover painlessly from your surgery. Give you some respite from the struggles you sometimes face at home. And build on our strong relationship with each other in preparation for a long-term future. It was something magical we shared this weekend. Despite annoying or frustrating moments, I will remember most the detailed care we gave to each other and the gentle bliss that was brought.
I love you, hun. I know I say it too much, but I do love you.
this weekend was magical. Simply magical. When I asked you to write an entry about this weekend. That word was probably the only thing I wanted to say about it all.
When you came to pick me up and I was walking back to meet you at the gas station, I knew I made the right choice for us. Mostly, I wanted to be there for you because you had claimed that your mom would appreciate the 'help' and also I knew you were aching to see me after our little scare. I admit I really wanted to work out the details at home to come and see you. It was nice, I had my books to read on the bus, because I had nothing to look out the window for. I hid my shirt and my scarf (the one you so blindly but lovingly bought for me) in my backpack all ready for a good weekend. And it was.
You were dazed, but you were happy and excited to see me. That would be the first of the many 'excited' feelings I was aware of. You were definitely excited alot this weekend. I hope you can recover. :)
Anyway, it was off to Tim Horton's as expected, and it seemed right off the bat, I knew that your mom was gonna be annoying again. She quipped about your 'long' order and that made me feel unimpressed. Here's your daughter in pain and trying to recover from something and you'd complain about the mundaneity of a complex order. Sure, if only if life were so simple for an adult!
But then I think it was really amazing when we finally got to bed. Probably one of your favourite places to be with me, until at least you discovered another one later during my visit. I admit I was anticipating and it didn't disappoint. We got to snuggle, and I think I said 'snuggly-wuggly'. You kissed me like you said you would, and I tried not to kill you from the pain. It was such a sensual experience having to harness our passion and our love into gentle, unpainful kisses. But overall we cuddled and just held each other.
Soon, after some sort of queue, we decided to talk for another two to three hours after your mom and norm went to bed. We talked about alot of very personal and expressive things, which I brought up because I had just finished reading your diary that you sent to me. I wanted to be fair by letting you ask about something you wanted to know about me most. Then I asked about what I wanted to hear from you in reaction to things I read in your diary. I told you why I wanted to know, and basically I didn't want to take something from you without conscious consent. I said I wanted us to share all our relationship in every way. Sharing. Another word that could powerfully describing our weekend, if not ideally, our whole relationship. We share lots of things. Thoughts, ideas, pains, and a moo-latte.
I think it felt more powerfully aware for me that I wanted to make sure we shared everything, and that included your pain, physically and mentally. You had worries and you had a constant reminder of pain in your mouth. I think I embraced it with you by holding you and consoling you and by just doing anything that could help you transfer that pain away from you and into me to be dissolved, like salt in the ocean. (If you didn't get that part, ocean symbolizes something so big, salt is nothing compared to it, hence salt is pain) Yeah, sorry I didn't mean to ruin the symbolism for you.
We went to sleep and surprisingly woke up quite early. It was nice and bright outside, a perfect morning wake up call. You gave me a treat, the same one you gave the night before. It was great and you said you weren't any good at making the treat. Soon after, we decided to make Sunday morning breakfast. It was awesome. We cooked together, although I know you felt like I was taking over. I really wasn't. We were making breakfast together. It was shared.
So then after church (see how I skipped church? yeah, it was that boring, like you admitted to me), I started making references to faith. Yeah, I thought that sermon was ok, at least the subject matter seemed appropriate. I reminded us that faith could be one of our strengthening tools. But like you know, a damper was put on that day, as it would naturally be, Man United could only pull a frustrating draw against Reading, and having to lose Rooney to injury.
Well after, we napped, our early morning caught up to us, while your mom and norm watched the dumb movie they were subjecting themselves to. Then we went to dairy queen to ultimately share a moo-latte. You really liked it, despite your premature opinion that you wouldn't like it. Oh well! You had a caramel one at dinner. Yum. I remember tasting a bit of it when we kissed at some point during that night. So then, Joellen came over and you really liked having her back. She at least seemed to enjoy having you back. I was quiet, not sure why. I think I was mostly tired, and second, I had nothing to say. Then after everyone went to bed, we enjoyed some more cuddling. I remember saying 'Let's just cuddle for now and ... later'.
Monday morning was just a good sleep-in, one of many I'm sure we can have in our lifetime. It seemed a perfect closing to a magical weekend. Magical. We could only stare and caress each other in just the right way. You gave me two amazing massages. I remember thinking, wow, she's been practicing. (... on who, I wonder?). It was really good and made me feel better and relaxed. There's more to say, but I think you'd have covered it, or we'll just share it at a later date.
All in all, hun, I wanted to help you get better and recover painlessly from your surgery. Give you some respite from the struggles you sometimes face at home. And build on our strong relationship with each other in preparation for a long-term future. It was something magical we shared this weekend. Despite annoying or frustrating moments, I will remember most the detailed care we gave to each other and the gentle bliss that was brought.
I love you, hun. I know I say it too much, but I do love you.
My Simon, My Saviour
I got my wisdom teeth out on Wednesday, and after three days of drug-induced haze and lots of pain, Simon came to me. It was so good to see him. I'd seen him on Tuesday for two hours, but it wasn't enough. I always crave more time with him. I was so miserable for the first few days that I begged him to visit, and he did. But how he came really isn't as important as while he was here.
We cuddled. We cuddled and cuddled. That's all I wanted to do, was hold and be held, and cuddle. We watched a bit of Asterix et les Vikings, and then put it away to just lie in bed together. He lies on his back, with me curled around his side, head on his chest, his arm around me. And everything feels safe. I feel secure, like nothing bad can happen. I didn't hurt. I didn't look like I had grapefruits stuffed in my cheeks from all the swelling. There wasn't blood pooling in my mouth. I was safe and secure, and everything was ok, because my Simon was with me and holding me. We rolled over and he spooned me, arms around me. So connected and so in love. And at some point we fell asleep, curled up together. And we slept. Some nights together we take turns waking up and rolling over and changing position, or getting up to go to the washroom or other little things. But this night, we slept soundly until 6. We got up for a bit and curled up in the recliner in the living room where I had slept the three previous nights. It was cozy. We went back to bed and held each other some more. Connected, together, in love, and safe.
At seven we got up and decided to make breakfast. We cook together so well. I come up with the ideas and start it, and Simon takes over because he's better (and fussier) than me. So I started pancakes, hashbrowns and omelettes. We all sat down and ate together before church.
We spent most of the day in bed. I took my painkillers and slept, with Simon beside me. He held me the whole time, covered me in a blanket, and held me. I felt safe to sleep, and comfortable and relaxed. I dozed in and out of my drug induced haze. Every time I woke, Simon was right there, rubbing my back or stroking my arm. He just watched me sleep. Nothing could be sweeter. I finally woke up, thoroughly cranky. He soothed me and calmed me down. We went out for a bit to get Dairy Queen (which has a lot less removed-wisdom-teeth-friendly drinks than you'd think) and came back for supper. After supper it was back to bed. The night was the best I can remember. We both just felt so intensely in love. I held him for a while, and then buried my head in his chest. I rolled him over and gave him a massage. And we were just together. We talked about our hopes, our dreams, our future. And they were all together. We don't have separate futures, we have one future together. And that's how we want it to be.
We cuddled and held until we fell asleep. We both woke up at times throughout the night, and cuddled and hugged, then fell asleep again. Most of the morning was spent in bed, cuddling and talking. We talked about our future together, our children. We discussed names for our children and how many we'd have. It was a realistic discussion, not at all theoretical "what-if-maybe-when-possibly" but just "when". When we have kids. When we get married, not if.
We had to get up at some point, so we did. We ate lunch, then cuddled. We made a cheesecake, then cuddled and lay in bed together talking. We bathed my guinea pig, Mariska, then played with her on the bed for a while, cuddling with her. She burrowed into her blanket the way I wanted to burrow into Simon's shoulder. We cuddled until it was time to go. My friend Manda dropped by for a few moments, and then we had to leave. My mom and I did a presentation about guinea pigs for a group of campers, and Simon sat patiently and watched, holding Mariska's leash. Then it was time to take him back to the bus station.
The ride was quiet. I was too sad to know what to say. When we got to the station I had so many things to say. To reassure myself that this wasn't the end of it all I babbled about our new room together and what we'd do about a bed and where to put his closet. I had to say something about when we'd next see each other next to be sure we would, that it wasn't all in my head. I get crazy thoughts that this goodbye could be the last so I have to make certain we'll see each other again soon, and set it so well that it won't be cancelled. We won't see each other again until he moves in, in September.
When my mom started to pry us apart I hugged Simon and started to cry. I tried to hold it back but two fat tears slipped down my cheeks and I just about lost it. I looked at him, miserable with tears in my eyes and I could almost see him wanting to cry too. But he didn't. I did. I walked out of the bus station and looked back at him, then left. And I cried most of the way home. I hate being separated from him. About 10 minutes after we left, I texted him, as is tradition. Just that last reminder that I miss him, I love him, and I can't bear to be without him. And I hope he knows just how much he means to me.
We cuddled. We cuddled and cuddled. That's all I wanted to do, was hold and be held, and cuddle. We watched a bit of Asterix et les Vikings, and then put it away to just lie in bed together. He lies on his back, with me curled around his side, head on his chest, his arm around me. And everything feels safe. I feel secure, like nothing bad can happen. I didn't hurt. I didn't look like I had grapefruits stuffed in my cheeks from all the swelling. There wasn't blood pooling in my mouth. I was safe and secure, and everything was ok, because my Simon was with me and holding me. We rolled over and he spooned me, arms around me. So connected and so in love. And at some point we fell asleep, curled up together. And we slept. Some nights together we take turns waking up and rolling over and changing position, or getting up to go to the washroom or other little things. But this night, we slept soundly until 6. We got up for a bit and curled up in the recliner in the living room where I had slept the three previous nights. It was cozy. We went back to bed and held each other some more. Connected, together, in love, and safe.
At seven we got up and decided to make breakfast. We cook together so well. I come up with the ideas and start it, and Simon takes over because he's better (and fussier) than me. So I started pancakes, hashbrowns and omelettes. We all sat down and ate together before church.
We spent most of the day in bed. I took my painkillers and slept, with Simon beside me. He held me the whole time, covered me in a blanket, and held me. I felt safe to sleep, and comfortable and relaxed. I dozed in and out of my drug induced haze. Every time I woke, Simon was right there, rubbing my back or stroking my arm. He just watched me sleep. Nothing could be sweeter. I finally woke up, thoroughly cranky. He soothed me and calmed me down. We went out for a bit to get Dairy Queen (which has a lot less removed-wisdom-teeth-friendly drinks than you'd think) and came back for supper. After supper it was back to bed. The night was the best I can remember. We both just felt so intensely in love. I held him for a while, and then buried my head in his chest. I rolled him over and gave him a massage. And we were just together. We talked about our hopes, our dreams, our future. And they were all together. We don't have separate futures, we have one future together. And that's how we want it to be.
We cuddled and held until we fell asleep. We both woke up at times throughout the night, and cuddled and hugged, then fell asleep again. Most of the morning was spent in bed, cuddling and talking. We talked about our future together, our children. We discussed names for our children and how many we'd have. It was a realistic discussion, not at all theoretical "what-if-maybe-when-possibly" but just "when". When we have kids. When we get married, not if.
We had to get up at some point, so we did. We ate lunch, then cuddled. We made a cheesecake, then cuddled and lay in bed together talking. We bathed my guinea pig, Mariska, then played with her on the bed for a while, cuddling with her. She burrowed into her blanket the way I wanted to burrow into Simon's shoulder. We cuddled until it was time to go. My friend Manda dropped by for a few moments, and then we had to leave. My mom and I did a presentation about guinea pigs for a group of campers, and Simon sat patiently and watched, holding Mariska's leash. Then it was time to take him back to the bus station.
The ride was quiet. I was too sad to know what to say. When we got to the station I had so many things to say. To reassure myself that this wasn't the end of it all I babbled about our new room together and what we'd do about a bed and where to put his closet. I had to say something about when we'd next see each other next to be sure we would, that it wasn't all in my head. I get crazy thoughts that this goodbye could be the last so I have to make certain we'll see each other again soon, and set it so well that it won't be cancelled. We won't see each other again until he moves in, in September.
When my mom started to pry us apart I hugged Simon and started to cry. I tried to hold it back but two fat tears slipped down my cheeks and I just about lost it. I looked at him, miserable with tears in my eyes and I could almost see him wanting to cry too. But he didn't. I did. I walked out of the bus station and looked back at him, then left. And I cried most of the way home. I hate being separated from him. About 10 minutes after we left, I texted him, as is tradition. Just that last reminder that I miss him, I love him, and I can't bear to be without him. And I hope he knows just how much he means to me.
Wednesday, August 1, 2007
today is a bad day, so must be a good day to blog (?)
sigh...
i feel like the worst boyfriend in the world because i can't make you feel any better than what you're feeling right now. Really, I don't care what I'm feeling, I just want to make you feel better. (And now you're playing the song.. hope it does better at making you feel better than i can right now) I don't know if you understand what I'm feeling and what I just want. I just want you to feel better, not feel lazy and crappy, and not feel like nothing is worth doing. I don't know what to say or even be able to say it right now. My sister is in the room. Does it matter? Does it matter if she hears me consoling you? or hear the tone of my voice, cracking, and sound like the whole world seems to be ending?
I want to be with you, and it's pressuring me enough to think that it seems like I'm leaving my family to be with you. But at the same time, I want to leave coz it's best for me, for my goals, for my sanity even. I can't do anything here (Toronto), nothing! I just sit at home wait for things to happen, and today it's a million times worse coz bad stuff is happening or happened today. 1. the fight with my mom over "nothing". - It started over when she asks about a new puzzle i brought home from the hospital that they were giving away for free. She asked in Vietnamese 'did your sister buy this?', which i took to be an accusation of buying thiftless things for nothing. So I reacted that way, and said in a somewhat forceful way " no, it was free, I brought it home from the hospital." She then got all upset over how she didn't even mean it that way. Then we yelled and argued, about I have no idea! We were just both upset. I couldn't understand what she was saying. And yeah. It was bad, I felt like a dumbass son.
2. my Jenica, you're all depressed today. You feel like doing nothing. I don't know what to say to make it help or feel better. I dont know what to say, and also what I can say without hinting at my sister that you're all depressed. Is that right, is that wrong? I know you're sensitive about who should know about your emotional state, your feelings. I really don't know. I want to hear your happy voice. I shudder when I hear the lazy, sleepy-sounding voice, coz it usually indicates to me something is wrong, you're depressed, or you're thinking about stuff thats making you get depresed or upset. And you know what? I really don't ever know what to do that's enough to make you feel better. I remember you always say after-the-fact, you did help. But, really, I wonder if it helps. If I know what I'm doing with you, whether I'm making it worse by doing nothing, or doing something, or making it better.
So, I feel like I don't want to be here. I want to be in Kingston, or more like, I want to be doing something. Remember when I talked about being stir-crazy. Well without saying it, that's what I am feeling. I'm frustrated (I think I've said a couple of times now) and upset. Two simple words, but in my speech patterns, simple words mean a billion times more than a complex explanation.
...When I say simple things, it's probably a blanket phrase or term for a thousand thoughts and sentiments. When I go and explain something in depth, at every angle, and every possible thing I can think of, then that is everything I'm thinking put into words...
take this as a general rule, coz it likely will apply to alot of what I say. It's the way I think. And unfortunately, it's also a bad habit. I'm cryptic. I like to be cryptic. Actually if you read the chapter on Owl (from Winnie the Pooh) and his psychological demeanor, it's almost an exact case study of this.
So, I'm Frustrated. It goes to every corner of my body I'm frustrated. frustration is oozing out every ounce of myself. It could even be an onomonopeia, or that thing where a word describes itself. Frustration.
So today is a bad day...
i feel like the worst boyfriend in the world because i can't make you feel any better than what you're feeling right now. Really, I don't care what I'm feeling, I just want to make you feel better. (And now you're playing the song.. hope it does better at making you feel better than i can right now) I don't know if you understand what I'm feeling and what I just want. I just want you to feel better, not feel lazy and crappy, and not feel like nothing is worth doing. I don't know what to say or even be able to say it right now. My sister is in the room. Does it matter? Does it matter if she hears me consoling you? or hear the tone of my voice, cracking, and sound like the whole world seems to be ending?
I want to be with you, and it's pressuring me enough to think that it seems like I'm leaving my family to be with you. But at the same time, I want to leave coz it's best for me, for my goals, for my sanity even. I can't do anything here (Toronto), nothing! I just sit at home wait for things to happen, and today it's a million times worse coz bad stuff is happening or happened today. 1. the fight with my mom over "nothing". - It started over when she asks about a new puzzle i brought home from the hospital that they were giving away for free. She asked in Vietnamese 'did your sister buy this?', which i took to be an accusation of buying thiftless things for nothing. So I reacted that way, and said in a somewhat forceful way " no, it was free, I brought it home from the hospital." She then got all upset over how she didn't even mean it that way. Then we yelled and argued, about I have no idea! We were just both upset. I couldn't understand what she was saying. And yeah. It was bad, I felt like a dumbass son.
2. my Jenica, you're all depressed today. You feel like doing nothing. I don't know what to say to make it help or feel better. I dont know what to say, and also what I can say without hinting at my sister that you're all depressed. Is that right, is that wrong? I know you're sensitive about who should know about your emotional state, your feelings. I really don't know. I want to hear your happy voice. I shudder when I hear the lazy, sleepy-sounding voice, coz it usually indicates to me something is wrong, you're depressed, or you're thinking about stuff thats making you get depresed or upset. And you know what? I really don't ever know what to do that's enough to make you feel better. I remember you always say after-the-fact, you did help. But, really, I wonder if it helps. If I know what I'm doing with you, whether I'm making it worse by doing nothing, or doing something, or making it better.
So, I feel like I don't want to be here. I want to be in Kingston, or more like, I want to be doing something. Remember when I talked about being stir-crazy. Well without saying it, that's what I am feeling. I'm frustrated (I think I've said a couple of times now) and upset. Two simple words, but in my speech patterns, simple words mean a billion times more than a complex explanation.
...When I say simple things, it's probably a blanket phrase or term for a thousand thoughts and sentiments. When I go and explain something in depth, at every angle, and every possible thing I can think of, then that is everything I'm thinking put into words...
take this as a general rule, coz it likely will apply to alot of what I say. It's the way I think. And unfortunately, it's also a bad habit. I'm cryptic. I like to be cryptic. Actually if you read the chapter on Owl (from Winnie the Pooh) and his psychological demeanor, it's almost an exact case study of this.
So, I'm Frustrated. It goes to every corner of my body I'm frustrated. frustration is oozing out every ounce of myself. It could even be an onomonopeia, or that thing where a word describes itself. Frustration.
So today is a bad day...
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