My Immortal by Evanescence

I'm so tired of being here
Suppressed by all my childish fears
And if you have to leave
I wish that you would just leave
'Cause your presence still lingers here
And it won't leave me alone

These wounds won't seem to heal
This pain is just too real
There's just too much that time cannot erase

When you cried I'd wipe away all of your tears
When you'd scream I'd fight away all of your fears
And I held your hand through all of these years
But you still have
All of me

You used to captivate me
By your resonating light
Now I'm bound by the life you left behind
Your face it haunts
My once pleasant dreams
Your voice it chased away
All the sanity in me

These wounds won't seem to heal
This pain is just too real
There's just too much that time cannot erase

When you cried I'd wipe away all of your tears
When you'd scream I'd fight away all of your fears
And I held your hand through all of these years
But you still have
All of me

I've tried so hard to tell myself that you're gone
But though you're still with me
I've been alone all along

When you cried I'd wipe away all of your tears
When you'd scream I'd fight away all of your fears
And I held your hand through all of these years
But you still have
All of me



I'm really not sure why, at this point, this song resonates so strongly with me. However, I truly know I was, and likely still am, in love with him. It's been a difficult road for me through this break up, to say the least. Life has handed me lemons and I'm still trying to find the sugar to make lemonade...time, I know. In time, it will come again. As much as it scares me that I'll never find a love like I've had, I know, it will come again. Yet, he'll always be my immortal.

Alone

I've noticed a trend lately. He comes home late at night and just goes to sleep. Why can't I have as little emotion as he does? Why can't I just be happy being alone? I cannot wait to just feel normal again...whole. Sad right? I feel pathetic, but after a third of my life has been spent with one person, it's difficult to just move on...at least for me anyway. I may be giving up on our relationship (now) but I'll never give up on him, he's an important part of my life. He has been a very important part of my life...letting go of that is difficult. I'm losing my best friend. Ugh, I hate this part...

Beating A Dead Horse

Today began as usual, waking up and heading out to work. Things were going ok until I saw a notification on my phone, it was him posting on Facebook, "tired of the crap, leave me the f alone." My blood pressure skyrocketed, I mean sure, I've done some stupid things through this ordeal, some I may not even be proud of, but this time, I felt surely it wasn't about me. I hadn't done anything. If it was about me, why would he post it on Facebook? I began racking my brain trying to figure out what I had done to set him off. I hadn't a clue. Then it hit me, 2 of those 3 framed intensely meaningful (at least to me) pictures that I had given him were in the bedroom. See, last night after he left for another night out, I thought to myself, hey I'm going to hang these. I got distracted when my sister called and set them on the TV stand in the bedroom. I can't imagine why that would piss him off so much, but then again, these days it doesn't take much. I mean he gets angry when he begins to feel sad or maybe even remember that he still loves me. Whatever the case may be, I decided to just not say anything later tonight.

As an aside, it's amazing the number of people who "liked" his status, as if they all have/had an inside line to what really is going on between us. The sad thing, it's not what they think that bothers me, it's what he's told them.

I get home, attempt going for a walk but it's bitterly cold AND drizzling, so instead I sat there watching TV...waiting. He comes home and doesn't say a word. I ask if his status was about me, he replies with a simple "maybe". I apologize for taking those photos and describe my intent, he wonders why I'd want to hang them. So obviously it wasn't the pictures missing. Instead of an explanation of what set him off, I'm informed that he will be moving in February into an apartment with his friend Daniel. He wants to break the lease. He asks, "You never planned to move did you?" I answer honestly and tell him that yes, not only had I planned to move, but that I'm meeting with the agent this weekend. He seemed a bit upset by that, I can't tell if he's just having allergies or maybe crying. It makes me sad.

My tears begin to flow and I sit there wondering why I'm so incredibly sad, trying to hide the fact I'm crying. It's a death and I'm grieving. We've both made a tremendous mess of a very special thing and I'm afraid there's no turning back now. I feel regret for not moving out sooner, remorse for the things I've done and how I acted at times, but the truth is...I'm not crazy and, honestly, in some odd way, I think seeing him everyday since the break up has helped me to see how much he's changed. He's become someone that I'm not sure I like very much; however, I'm also looking at him without the guise of love. Yet, I cry, I grieve and I'm angry...it's truly a sad thing happening and I'm scared of my future without him but I know, somehow, I'll be ok.

I will be stronger, I'm the one with everything to gain...I'm not the loser in this situation. If I can just keep telling myself this, maybe I'll begin to believe it...feel it.




As I sit here typing, he's ferociously texting and there's no sound I despise more than that constant chime. It could be because I feel the topic of conversation is me, I'm probably wrong but who cares, however I wouldn't be surprised. Nothing ceases to amaze me anymore through this whole pile of BS.

The Break Up

I'm reviving my blog for the sole reason that I need my soul and heart to begin healing. So, I'm speaking from the heart in this blog and not from any other standpoint.

Nine years ago I met a man that basically swept me off my feet. I wasn't terribly interested at first and may have just seen it as a game with my youthful mindset. He actually pursued me, I went out with him and, long story short, I fell in love. The kind of love that hurts because you can't imagine a life without him. Nine years of memories, laughter, love and loss...nine years we were there for each other through it all. Here we are on Christmas Day 2012 and those nine years are fading into a memory.

It all began in mid Oct of this year when I noticed a distance between us, I didn't know if there was someone else or what. My heart deceived me every time he would say "I love you more" as a response to my affection. However, I knew something was different. So I did what anyone in my position would do...I looked at his texts. There I found a conversation between him and a coworker regarding possibly becoming roommates. Her marriage was seemingly on the rocks. I knew I had a problem. So I confronted him about the distance, he said, "Im not sure I want to be in a relationship, but lets see how Hawaii goes. I love you and I want this to work."

It's a long flight to Hawaii but truly paradise. A beautiful state that's magic is almost tangible. Things were good, how could it not be? We were in Hawaii! Of course he was deadset on finding a waterfall that he could stand under, so he finds a kayaking outfitter that will "take you to a secret waterfall". Well, ladies and gentlemen, I don't like kayaking or canoeing. Strike #1. A couple days later, he decides to go snorkeling, which he knows I won't do because I get seasick...strike #2. The vacation still went awesome, I had no doubt that our relationship was going strong. We came home, I asked how we were and if everything was good...he said yes.

Life continued, work resumed. He went in for a tonsillectomy the week after our vacation, I helped nurse him through it. However, once again, the following week, I noticed a distance. I watched and waited, still being deceived by the "I love you more's", kisses and hugs. On the evening of November 16, I asked him again how things were and he told me, "I'm not sure I want to be in a relationship anymore. I just want to be alone for a little while." Heartbreak, crocodile tears and utter devastation was where I found myself. However, things became even more complicated.

See...I can't afford to just pick up and move out at a moments notice. So, we're still "living" together. However, here are just a few things I've been told since that day..."I love you"..."I don't want to just break up because I'm afraid I'll lose you"..."I still love you". Oh and, when he thought I was moving on, he jumps down my throat, "Well you've moved on, you don't even want to be with me anymore!" Now, as for going to the gay bars, I've been a few times since the break up; however, since he's also going out, I'm obviously following him...makes sense right? Whatever, it's frustrating.

As for the "crazy" that so many of his friends attribute to me...let me just say this, imagine loving someone so much, knowing they love you too but they've been out doing all kinds of shady, disgusting things with random strangers. Yes, you too may go a little "crazy". Lets be frank, I looked for answers to questions that continue to go unanswered, instead I found a person that isn't who they truly are acting in a way that is, really, kind of disgusting. Well that's just my opinion anyway. Speaking of these "reporters"...remember there are 3 sides to every story.


So, here we are Christmas Day and I'm sitting at home alone. Who knows where he is and I find myself not caring. However, the roads are a bit treacherous out there tonight, so I worry, I can't help it. See, my gift to him this Christmas was a last ditch effort. Aside from the shirt and iTunes gift card, I got him 3 framed pictures. The first, our dog Hero, a beautiful, loving little boy that will be just as devastated at not seeing him everyday as I will once I move. The second, a picture of a sunset in Hawaii, sort of an homage to our relationship but beautiful and a reminder that the sun also rises. The third...back story, when we first met, we had nowhere to just hang out, so we went to this park in Highland Park and would sit on the same bench getting to know each other and, truly, falling in love...the third was a framed picture of that bench next to an old oak tree. He had no real reaction to those, not that that's unusual for him, but still. So now, instead of holding on, I'm trying to move on. I'm heartbroken, angry, feel betrayed and scared of being alone. However, I'm taking that leap, mainly because I'm being forced off the ledge, but it's time to give up on him. I tried, he didn't and that speaks volumes to the content of his character.

I love you S, I always will.

Mekka Mekenna

In the late summer/early fall of 1999, I saw a puppy that one of Kendra's friend's had recently acquired. He was so cute and adorable that I had to get one of my own. So, my sister and I set out to the place they were selling these puppies...the Walmart parking lot in Sherman. They only had two left, a male and a female. I remember it vividly...the male was overly hyper and Mekka was just standing there, wagging her tail. They were tied to the bumper of a truck. We decided on the female. She vomited in the car on the way home, she was in the floorboard of the front passenger seat. I guess she got car sick or was just overwhelmed by the new surroundings/new people. Kendra and I went back to that SAME Walmart and bought a lot of stuff for her, including a new tag. We decided on the drive back to Sherman, to name her Mekka, after a character in a short lived animated show on MTV. I just liked the name Mekenna, and so it fit...Mekka Mekenna.

I remember having to take her out at 5am while my dad was getting ready to go to work. I remember one morning, when my mom knocked on my door, Mekka was soooo protective that she stood on my bed and barked ferociously, then saw my mom open the door and urinated on my bed. This was probably because #1 she needed to go and wasn't let out soon enough and #2 she saw it was my mom.

Fast forward to November 1999, I was involved in a single car accident. By all accounts, I should've either died or been seriously injured but came out unscathed. That exact same night, Mekka began showing symptoms of Parvo. She spent a week in the hospital but recovered. I remember going to pick her up...she was, literally, "bitching" at me the whole way home.

Her "bitching" is a running theme throughout her life, she KNEW how to let us know she was upset and she was ALWAYS accommodated. If there is an art to manipulation, she was the master.

Years went by, my relationship with Mekka grew stronger and stronger. I can remember a time when I began to finally accept myself and had no idea how my family could possibly accept me for who I was/am. She was there. I would tell her that I knew she was my friend and that I knew she loved me unconditionally, she was on my side. She never let me down. She was always there.

(At this point, I just need to say that I KNOW this is a dog, but still)

I met someone, a person that I knew was meant to be. We decided to live together and I left her behind. I missed her, I even stayed overnight at my parent's house one night just for her. I knew I couldn't take her with me. She was a dog that was used to running free on 5 acres of land, living in a house...happy. I couldn't possibly remove her from that to live with me in a small apartment, regulated by a leash and collar. It just seemed cruel.

Days passed into months and months to years. She was always happy to see me. She "bitched" when I would come home. It quickly became apparent that she was getting older, but her tenacity for life was always at the forefront. At Thanksgiving dinner one year, we decided to give her a mild/safe sedative to allow her some form of "ability" to deal with all those people arriving at my parent's home. She didn't react well to that medication. She seized, her heart stopped. Fortunately for us, my aunt Christy, an RVT, was there. We applied compressions to her chest, she came back to us. After that day, she looked older...almost immediately. Mekka never would give up, she continued to provide companionship for a few years.

Mekka eventually succumbed to arthritis. She'd previously endured Wobbler's syndrome, but seemed to make a decent recovery. She became less and less able to walk normally. She was put on medications and seemed to adjust to it. She lost her friend Chase, our Australian Shepherd, on February 18th of this year. At that time, we thought Mekka was deteriorating exponentially...but the evidence left behind were actually those of Chase. After he passed away, she expressed her sadness, as witnessed by my parents. Mekka, wasn't doing as poorly as we thought however.

Days became only months. Almost 2 months, to the day, Mekka was ready to go. Well, I should say, her BODY was ready to go. My sister picked her up at my parent's home and brought her to DVSC. We all knew it was time, but that doesn't make it any easier. I sat with her this morning for a while, mostly trying to calm her down from being "Mekka" aka scared, "bitching". She could no longer walk or hold her bladder. She was a shadow of the dog we once knew...but she was STILL Mekka.

I thanked Mekka today for being there for me when I wasn't sure any one person could. I thanked her for being a best friend and I apologized for leaving her behind. I still feel guilty and will always. It was never my intention to leave her but I felt she would be more happy at my parent's home and WITH my parents...I think she was. She was, and will always be, a good pup. I dread going to my parent's home now, because I cannot imagine going there without hearing Mekka "bitch" at me and giving me that smile.

She's running around now, free of pain, with Chasey Boy and she's happy. I miss her though, always will.

**I thank my mom and dad for taking care of her in her last years. Without them, she would have given up a long time ago. I also have to thank my sister...Kendra was there at the last moment when I couldn't possibly bear it. Kendra was the last person to be with her and I think that's what Mekka would have wanted.

Japan

So most of us have read, seen, heard about what's going on in Japan. It's a terrible, horrific tragedy and, as Americans, we must do our part to help in any way we can.

That being said, I've continued to think about one thing...what if? I mean, Japan is an industrialized nation and, in more ways than one, more advanced than the US. So...what if this happens to us? What if some natural disaster wipes out half the US? I realize many of you may believe that it was some anomaly or fluke incident, however, we keep hearing how Japan is accustomed to earthquakes and has precautions in place for tsunamis. It's been said that the people of that country are educated from birth to expect/prepare for the worst case scenario. So, apparently, this natural disaster has come as a sobering reality...not only to them, but to us. What I'm getting at is this...what if and WHEN will this occur to the USA? What will the people of this country do/react to when half the country is wiped out by natural disaster and we must now rely on foreign assistance? It seems strange...IMO...primarily because we've witnessed major natural disasters in, mostly, un-industrialized countries.

I saw on CNN recently an interview with General Honore, the guy from New Orleans following Hurricane Katrina, and I kept wondering, "WHY are they talking to him?!?" While I understand the comparison of destruction of New Orleans following Katrina and the flooding from the storm surge...there's a distinct difference. We are talking about a country, almost HALF a country...NOT a city...being destroyed by a natural disaster. A country that endured an earthquake (8.9) AND a tsunami...the comparisons are minimal. THIS interview got me thinking, if the United States endured something on a comparable scale...what would be the response?

It is my hope that when something like this happens in the United States, not only will we welcome the assistance but that we are as fortunate as others to have such assistance offered to us.

My thoughts go out to the citizens of Japan, I cannot imagine the toll this is taking on you and yours. May you find some solace in knowing that the United States and it's people are here for you and doing what we can to help.

Chasey Boy

Chase, an Australian Shepherd, came into our family about 6 or so years ago. He was an obnoxious but super sweet little guy and we all loved him almost immediately. Although his "obnoxiousness" could be tiresome at times, he was ultimately a good pup. We "rescued" him, I guess you'd say. There was a family in Coppell that decided they'd rather have a pool in their backyard than a young dog. So they looked for a home, found one but that person wanted an outside dog. Chase, being used to living indoors, would sit outside and cry wanting to come inside. We took him in and, at first, it was a trying experience. See, we already had an indoor dog, Mekka (dalmation). She wasn't uber thrilled at first but she adjusted and grew to love him as well. Best friends.

A little background...as a kid, we always had dogs really but they always lived outdoors. I guess maybe my parents didn't know how to deal with an indoor pet or just weren't willing, either way it was just the way it was and it was ok. After I graduated from HS and after a year in college, we got Mekka (the dalmation), my mom and dad were hesitant at first to have an indoor dog but we all acclimated nicely and she became a HUGE part of the family. A couple years later, here comes Chase...again, he quickly became a member of the family. I moved out several years ago and felt it inappropriate to bring either dog to an apartment. I mean, let's be honest, if you're accustomed to running around on 5 acres of land only to be stuffed into a small apartment, walked on a leash, etc...you'd be unhappy...right? So they live with my parents in Gunter because I KNOW that makes them happy. It's their home afterall.

So fast forward to present day. Mekka is aging, she's going on 12 yrs, which is really rare for a dalmation. She's suffering from arthritis and, essentially, a degenerative disc disease. The meds have not quite helped her as of late and we've been preparing ourselves to make THAT decision. However, I got a call Thursday afternoon from my mom saying Chase wasn't doing well, he was sick.

For those who don't know, I work at a veterinary hospital. I have heard from our clients regarding symptoms running the gamut, from severe to slight. Some even waiting DAYS after those same symptoms begin to even call the vet.

So, my mom tells me that Chase has been vomiting beginning that morning. He's lethargic, drinking water but not eating. So I tell her he needs to see a vet because of possible dehydration and since I'm an hour away, it would have to wait until the morning. I asked her to check all the usual things...temp by touch of ears, nose, gums, etc. He seems to be in not much distress at that point, to me anyway given my experience. My aunt Christy, an RVT, stopped by that night to check him out. His temperature was normal, only slightly dehydrated and not feeling well. So my dad will be bringing him to my hospital the following morning for evaluation, fluids, etc.

Friday morning comes. My phone rings at 6:28am. It's my sister, who works at a veterinary specialists office. I wake up believing she's going to tell me that she's bringing Chase to me so I can take him in once my hospital opens. The words that came from her mouth did not resonate at first, it was unbelievable. "Chase died" she said. I was in shock. I was upset. Denial. I mean how could THAT be the outcome?!?!? HOW?!?!

It still doesn't quite seem real, I mean HE was the HEALTHY ONE! The one that would be mourning our dalmation Mekka!

I later found out that my mom found him dead in the utility room, where he had been confined so water/food could be withheld. According to my mom, she tried to open the door after calling, "Chasey Boy!", but he was in front of that door. She saw blood from his back end...a lot of blood and knew. So, being in the country, you bury your pets. My dad dug a grave for Chase and he's buried at his home in Gunter.

What I can't stop thinking about...Was he in pain or scared just before he passed? I realize this is a dog, but he was a family member regardless and thinking about those things makes me extremely sad. However, Mekka (our dalmation) probably took it worst of all. As my dad was digging the grave and while he was covered by a blanket...Mekka went up to him and sniffed him, began crying and laid next to him. Whoever says dogs are just animals is wrong period.

It was a sad day for my family. Still is.