>Open/Curse Of a Broken Heart.true [Part II: Stigma Cliche]

>Once upon a time... I told my story... I have done nothing but tell the truth, now it is my side of the story, but I haven't lied about anything. No ignoring that it is alive with my emotions, it doesn't make it any less true. I feel like that holding onto the part of me that wants to scream is going to continue to eat me... unless I let it out.

Buddha said that "Holding on to anger is like grasping a hot coal with the intent of throwing it at someone else; you are the one who gets burned." And I am not angry, but I hurt. I want to understand, what is so bad about the fact that I hurt? I want to understand the reasoning of why I had to have my heart broken because I loved somebody I was under the impression loved me back. I can't sit and swallow my words any longer... it already has cause me extreme physical and mental suffering and I can't get well with these stigmas. When I needed someone, they told me they "had set me up for success" and left a gaping hole in me.

The most important thing that people should understand but fail to understand... that if I hadn't been in love, then it wouldn't hurt so badly. I want to understand why I am the bad guy, when all I did was love. So, yes, I can't bow my head and play innocent and I am not hear to make it out like I did absolutely nothing wrong. There was a time I was emotionally hurtful and I have atoned as much as humanly possible at this point in time. I confess, I didn't put as much into it as I wanted to. I was afraid to smother my love, to put too much in and upset them. I admit I was sad, I admit I was hiding a shell of pity... and even though all it will ever be seen in the light of an excuse. I was still hurting. I admit I got short tempered and sometimes mean. Though how would it be fair to put all the blame on myself? To say I ruined everything? That because of every action and lack of action created a life that was nothing but misery. That there was not a single ray of happiness, not one. That a single bad thing built a wall of obsidian.

I AM NOT A MONSTER... I AM HUMAN!!! I have had a rough run, and I can't say that my pain hurts more then someone else's but it is me... most people don't even know half of what it is that has happened to me. I really have had a turbulent life and considering all the trails of my life... I think I am stronger then someone will acknowledge. My issue... I was happy with my life, with my husband, with my hobbies, with my friends. I was unhappy with myself and let it conceal the higher amount of happiness I actually had. I don't know how many times I will have to admit that to have it be forgiven, I am an amazing person and anyone doubting that... just needs to hold my hand. All I needed was some encouragement, a little more push that wasn't a metaphorical shot gun to the face... a little more love. It wouldn't have had to happen like that. I hate that I am this vision of sorrow, life draining cloud of despair in a life I only ever wanted to improve. A man I doted on... ask anybody who knew me all the amazing things I always said about him... true things. Times I defended him because someone didn't like him, nobody was going to say rotten things to me about my love. I always supported his decisions. I tended to when ill. Gave space when asked... and was there when wanted, through petty fights and annoyances. Even when I wasn't wanted... which at the end I feel like was never wanted. It left me feeling worthless, I don't think it is a harsh reaction after four years. That I learned to cook but wasn't that great and loved my companions cooking more then my own. That I wanted him to achieve his goals... but it didn't mean I didn't have my doubts about my own. Jealousy that they had better means to reach their ends then my own. I leaned on them for support, and my mistake is I gave up fending for myself and laid all my weight on them... I comprehend that I shouldn't have given up on myself. It was nice to be taken care of, then have to hold up the weight of the world all by myself. I just assumed that I could lean on him for absolutely everything. That is what a relationship is about, and I admit I abused his strength. Then I remember, through sickness and health... for better or for worse. I really hate that just because the worse weighed so much it broke the back of hope for all of the better that has been pushed aside as having never existed...

I do understand the concept of not wanting to be with somebody... if you don't love them then... I understand. Pretending hurts... pretending not to hurt is just as valid as the other side of the coin. Accepted does not heal a broken heart because... like I said. I do love them, even if I was the worse thing to happen to them in their entire life. I understand wanting to discover ones self that longing to explore. I had to do it myself.

I do not understand the complete robotic apathy. That there is nothing to show for the misdoings, for the fact that I did not/do not deserve hateful words. I refuse to believe that my love for my husband doesn't mean much of anything to him. Of his own admittance. I asked him in my self mutilation of discussions, if my love and caring had any worth to him and he responded with a shrug and said, "Not really. What you have to understand is I was my mother's world, I was her everything and I didn't think twice about pulling the plug and letting her die. So..."

So... I just don't stop loving someone. Ever. Even if all they want is for me not to have existed. Or at least pretend very well that is exactly what happened... absolutely nothing. I only ever wanted to figure out what I could to make him love me as much as I loved him. At the end of everything, he took care of me. I always had food, medication and a roof over my head. Things got scary but we always figured out a way. Sometimes he would figure the best way but I think that he forgets how much effort I had put into things. Blindness by... only he knows. Maybe there wasn't that understanding that all my opinions on life were not an exact reflection on how he was doing as a husband. Despite the outsiders view on any of this. Our marriage. Wasn't really all that bad. Regardless of the tears, fears, words, bumps, laziness and pain... I don't regret a single moment. As well as the fact that I am going to miss it so very much. It was amazing, even the grimy parts of it. If you desire one thing for so long, it's a given that you'll miss other things along the way. That's how it is... that's life.

So for some of my exact words in the situation... through all my pleading tears while my husband left me... he ranted me a month of redemption to possibly not separate. So as the last attempt with words I wish I knew, maybe someday he will open up to me in a non-sarcastic, non-"you were so horrible" and honest way... words if he even remotely listened to or cared about... this was exactly what I left him with before it was made final on December 23rd that it was done.

Paulina -"I can't make you love me. I can' make you do anything, but I can certainly show you why you should break that wall down. Unleash your romance on me and just take one last chance. There is nothing more to lose there is only things to gain. I have accepted the possible outcomes... I certainly am focused on the best results. So stop being so stubborn. Stop being so closed. Open your fucking eyes... and let go of badness, and think for once on how lucky you really are to have me in your life for once. We are such a good match in more ways then I think you realize. Things will only get better for us but you have to be willing. I don't want to feel like if I fuck up once you will shoot me in the face again, and I don't want a death clock. I have never believed in anything more then I do now, that we can have something that people can only dream about. I will not lose this drive. I want my positive special aura to make you a better person too. Please, come be home with me where ever that may be. I will never love someone like I love you, ever. I want you to become a happy love-filled person because of me, and if it doesn't become that, I will walk away knowing I tried my best, tried everything I could and that its not my fault. I can only promise that I will hate any woman you love because she is not me, nobody is ever going to compare to me and it will silently tear me up inside as why it couldn't have been me when the best decision in my life... is loving you."

And I stick by that, now and forever. I am moving forward each day, only time will heal a broken heart but time will never heal a broken person. I don't care how cliche it sounds... or how much someone is rolling their eyes at my words.

A depressingly funny man once asked if a room full of people wanted to know how he got his scars... no one really admitted to wanting to know... but he told them anyways. What happened, cannot be erased and I can never pretend that it was the worst time of my life, that what happened was something I deserve a armada of pity for, or ever use it to my advantage in anything. I chose to not express it in any of these matters. I waited until I was stronger to share. I pretend to not know things I know. I pretend that everything doesn't hurt as much as it does.

Can anyone sit there and honestly say I deserved all of this? Weather or not it is believed I am a bad person... I repeat that I am most certainly not. I have spent my life "rolling ones" and being met with critical fails... though the point is that I have survived. I fight every day. When life hands you lemons... you make mother-fucking lemon grenades to burn people's houses down! This blog isn't a reflection on my life as a whole. I have some, interesting luck... usually not for the better. Does no one see me rolling with the punches? Every time I am demonized... I am further immortalized... because I might be bleeding, damaged and shattered but I am alive... no matter the tribulation... I survived and wouldn't hesitate for a moment to sacrifice my survival for that of anyone I even remotely love.

The story will continue... because humans are weak... but we want to live... even if we're wounded... or tortured... we feel the pain. And I am human. I have my scars... and I rather the real story be known then some twisted mutated monster mask of a tale.

>Open/Curse Of a Broken Heart.true [Part I: Butterflies of Destruction]

Once upon a time I never understood what it was to completely and utterly want nothing to do with, being utterly in love with somebody. As a young human, what would I know about the bond of two humans beyond the touch of hands, lips, belly buttons... that those butterflies that radiate from what may be a soul, were nothing more then human desire. So I continue... Once upon a time, I fell in love with a boy. I fell in love with a broken, cruel, egotistical, self-centered, bitter, short sighted, disgusting, perverse, lazy, foolish, irresponsible, apathetic... love of my life. It will never matter what he is... I fell in love with him and that is all that matters because I have to fight what I loved with what I accepted and have turned into an illusion of hate. Even though my words, are nothing more then a continuance of a slighted void, they need to be let lose. Because while now they are words... they were life, my life and his. Everything happened at one point in existence and if forgotten. How can anyone learn... or grow... or heal... or cope... or forgive... or maybe, just maybe... realize and understand, the loss.

All I could do was replay the day over and over in my head. All the words that were said. The cliche that was my heart breaking and streaming down my face. The shock, the denial. "The perfect stages of coping" while he stood there and made petty jokes/jabs and hurtful words, without remorse... shattering my entire reality, while silently praising himself. While I was instantaneous to DO something to make things right. That while I sat for hours alone choking on my tears, he was celebrating, not caring, playing games, making jokes and acting like... like I was this horrible horrible creature that did nothing but torment and terrorize him in unimaginable ways. That all the love and affection was some terrible flesh eating disease. Now, I am in the full understanding of my own faults in the relationship... because he himself said that my misdoings and flaws wouldn't have been an issue... if only he was in love with me. So thus, life was some sort of tentacle monster hell dimension where I was the world's worst wife. I quote, he sat me down and said, "I can't do this anymore, I can't keep pretending. I never loved you, never will and I believe there is love out there for me somewhere but that love isn't with you. I'm leaving you." And really do the rest of the worded details matter... I am never going to forget. It will always be stored in my memory and it will remain a glaring scar. It will remain that I instantly did something to fix everything I did wrong, I worked so hard, I remained so strong. I was so adverse to just, letting go... even letting my negative emotions slip out even in the slightest would send me into this inescapable pit of despair, I was blind to see, I was already sitting in that pit staring up into the sun... wanting nothing more then to feel its warmth in my obscured ignorance. It took a lot of turmoil, to see I didn't deserve any of this.

I couldn't eat... even if I wanted to. Some uncontrolled power I seemed to posses is having a facade that says, "nothing is wrong, everything is fine." While my body trembled, chilled, suffered and deteriorated inside. I was so stubborn to let myself even cry that one day... I literally broke. The doctor's say to me as I walk in, without saying more then my symptoms of shooting pain/warmth down my arms, severe chest pain, shaking violently and barely able to stand... "We think something is wrong with your heart..." One of those things, that you just can't make up. Then the magic question "Is there anything going on in your life that might be adding extra stress?"... so now, after losing 40lbs and being given a bucket of pills to help with the uncontrollable panic attacks, vomiting, zero appetite... I am still physically recovering. My doctor told me to cry more. I really hate crying.

Guess those butterflies, Mr. "I want to go find love, and be a hopeless romantic and feel butterflies again." are actually a warning. Saying... don't do it, we actually explode and it really fucking hurts. A lot.

As for today. Last night I had a dream, to me a nightmare... and I have a unique feature, I am an extremely vivid/lucid dreamer. Now the details are not important as they were just the collection of everything, rolled into a whole day of having to relieve every gut wrenching moment... again. In a new light. A fancy album "The Best of Paulina's Heart Break! - Vol. 1" It was so real, so real, I woke trembling and confused. My chest hurt... couldn't breath. I didn't know where I was... I just stared at the ceiling. I could my face mapped with dried tears. Then could only close my eyes again as I got that reoccurring slap in the face with a stinging hand-print from reality... that falling sinking feeling, that is always followed by a murder of flaming butterflies gnawing at my bones.

Despite all the heartbreaking similarities of a cheesy teen romance novel, we know that... hell... it really feels like shit when it happens to you. I want nothing more then to move on, not feel feelings of hurty feelings, I really do. Except, I am not the kind of person who just, doesn't care. Who can just turn the caring switch to off mode. That is all I do is care and love and devote myself to the people in my life. There is little I won't forgive someone for. There is little I won't do to help. I will go out of my way to not burden someone more then I absolutely have to and I rarely ask for help... let alone except it. This isn't anything new, some things I am just learning another confession I freely put out there. I have some fairly powerful self-loathing goggles on and lessons to get them off my face, lessons I can only learn from experience. A story that has only barely been told. A story with many different points of views. You might be able to not pretend to care anymore but I can't pretend not to care about you. This one way mirror isn't as one dimensional as it is perceived it to be.

This story has only begun... so what I can say for now. Those butterflies... that seem so amazing. Well... good luck with that. They will self destruct...

>Open/Thoughts In The Sleepless Night.zzz

>There is so much sadness amongst the pixals of my past. Without the darkness we can never see the light. And if we couldn't survive pawing our way through the dark... How would we deal with the blindness caused by our reality's nuclear brightness? My brain is a master at rationalizing the unrationable and over analyzing nothing. I just cannot ever let go. Sometimes the silly worry that plagues my present, is the one memory I think would be best forgotten... Erased. I admire the harsh truth that this knowledge was intended. It creates so much inner turmoil. Self-doubting... with it having nothing to do with me, it was the convinence of the moment. Arrived and gone in moments. I never want to think on it again... But it now has a hold of me forever. How can I not stare and wonder? I know it is only my mind helping me.... but my mind is very good at tricking me. Its illusions of my worse fears are so easily brought to reality. It is hard not to lay in the darkness and wonder "if". If anything, it is nothing and will always be nothing. I will make certain of that. Now if only I could erase a single line of data. One discovery to be undiscovered. Nieveaty, man would it be a slice of bliss. I wish I could force myself not to think on these particular things but when someone is your life, one doesn't get much of a choice. So I lay eyes upon my bed-mate, companion and a smile is born because I love him so much and I feel so ashamed of any digressions, it will always hurt. That is part of the pain endured when love is tested. If I was numb to it, it wouldn't be real. I know now the difference between infatuation and love. And I almost let infatuation win to ruin everything. With love, things are not story book perfection or butterflies, but with life... imperfections are the creators of beauty in everything. Without change there is no life. Moments are frozen in our minds forever but they are but a reminder that we live, each day knowing we only know what we know until we learn something more, until another moment is frozen inside. I live my life and it can only get better... Until the zombie apocalypse, of course, them I am fucked.

> Open/Insomnia.zzz

Been awhile... My luck, as good as ever, by good I mean the usual wtf. Nothing too hate life about. Only real complaint is feeling like a half cacti, half gelatinous cube with fur, one eye and bad disco outfit. Oh, and not being able to sleep. Even now... Laid here... In both manners, still no shut-eye.

Drove across town in the loverly summer heat, with a clear goal in mind. Obtain copy of Harry Potter: Deathly Hallows part 1 for the hubby so we can go see part 2 this weekend and he won't be confused. There are 3 video rental stores left in my city (having been laid off from one of the three chains that once was.) And while not exactly a perilous journey... it is never short of idiots trying to summon my road rage demon. So Mr. Blue Ford decides to cut me off... I decide to let it slide on my glorious payday. So vroom vroom more idiot drivers weaving traffic making me scared. Then Mr. Blue Ford decides to slam his breaks, for no apparent reason, good thing I don't tailgate. After this he precedes to go 15-10 miles slower than the speed limit... Annoying, no ability to pass. Get to left turn... Light is green arrow, he slams on breaks then goes about 5mph... This time a more obvious reason. He is staring at some lady mowing a church lawn. Now I am not one to get in the way of love, but dude was fucking with traffic! Rednecks are very confusing. The female in question wasn't within 100 miles of sexy dressed either. Maybe it was the lawn mower... Mr. Blue Ford, went 15 under until I could finally pass him... And boy was he scary, like serial killer scary.

Got to video store... One copy of movie left. Very happily strolled to counter beaming with joy... To realize, I had forgotten my wallet  (I am sure he had crawled out to take a breather.) So I scuffle to the back of the store to put the movie back where I found it. A lady reached for it shortly after I put it back, I growled at her like an puppy protecting its food bowl, retracting her hand quickly in confusion she hurried away... Came back 35 minutes later and my movie was still there. :)

I guess being a pink haired weird girl can have its inconsistent advantages.

/end

>Open/Cat Shit.wtf

>I was at my mom's house today working on and editing project. Her 135lb St. Bernard and my 15lb Chi/Jack Russel Terrier go outside with my step dad to do doggie stuff.

Couple minutes later they frolic inside, Nomi my one-eyed puppy pirate goes and plays with her toys. Hero, my mother's St. Bernard, quickly flumps over to her blanket... drooling more than usual. *Slurp*gulf*squish*slurp* As she makes a lot of disgusting mouth noises and drops something lumpy and brown on the floor and starts chewing on it. My mother sees it, screams, Hero puts it back in her mouth. My mom grabs Hero's drool face and pries her jaws apart to grab the what can only be assumed to be a large chunk of cat shit. Scenario as follows:

*Mom with drool covered lumpy brown item, assumed to be cat poop, screaming obscenities catches the attention of my step-dad.*

Step-Dad: "What's wrong? What's going on!?"

Mom: "Hero had shit in her mouth from outside."

Step-Dad: "What? How? What kind of shit is it? Dog shit or cat shit?"

Mom: "It is shit! I don't know what kind of shit it is! It is fucking disgusting!"

Step-Dad: "Well sorry!"

Mom: "And I think it was moldy... and it was huge!"

My parents are hilarious... xD

>Open/Nerd Rage.srsly

>Allow me to introduce myself, I am Kyukyu. You can call me Kyu or Zombivy. I am a nerdy gamer and one very powerful magnet of the "wtf/omg/lmao seriously" situations. Now most of my life I have seen this as a flaw. Because... if it can go wrong... it usually does. However... I think it is becoming my own super power.

I was inspired to share my stories because of blog Hyperbole and a Half. I certainly plan to illustrate some important aspects of the tale with visuals. Once I have the ability to (my lap-top is currently vacationing in tornado ally, he is on holiday, I've been rough on him he deserved some rest and relaxation). Also, I enjoy swearing and being vulgar... just to warn you.



>Today I had I had a bad nerd rage... worst in a long time. In a series of events I manage to fall and smack my head on something leaving a nice upside down T. This is how it went...

Fell asleep on couch, wrapped in the warmest blankets with a dog curled up by my legs and a cat on my head. The couch... also conveniently right in front of our old school wall heater that blows one direction. That's right a direct blast of heat.

Woke up drenched in sweat and a mouth full of cat hair, with my phone going off like crazy and very angry Japanese blaring from the TV. Thinking the world was ending as I usually do when waking up I panicked. Flinging animals off of me I jump up landing my pretty right foot in a nice cold steaming dog turd... "Fucking really dog? I have been asleep 2 hours." Being pissed mumbling about how she went outside and did business right before the nap I hop toward the bathroom to splash into a carpet puddle. Love the feeling of frigid dog piss between my toes. Yeah... just like that. Sometime between the piss and shower I manage to hit my head... I really am not sure of what. Fell and BAM!

Let Nomi dog out and... of course... she books it (very unusual) over across the street. "OMG MOMMY IS GOING TO MURDER ME!!! EEEeeeeeeeee!!!!"

Me without shoes runs out on the frozen ground, trying to get her to return to the yard... not daring venture into the sharp rocks of foot death to physically grab the little shit. But of course there had to be a little old lady who wanted me to tell the epic tale of my dog's one eye in shoutaneeze...

"She is the dreaded One-eyed Pirate Nomi! While pillaging the high seas she avoided the scurvy but, alas, it be the fork of a drunken sailor that took her eye!"

True story.

Then my phone rings some more... I try to answer the thing to have it chime at me explaining I do not have service... of course. Now cell phone's and their affiliates know of my deep seeded hatred for talking on the phone so they sure make it as difficult as possible to deal with them. For some reason entering a password wrong twice three months ago on the website make me a security risk who has a banned account. >-<

Finally after about 30 mins of arguing with a world dominating conspiring phone robot who wants me to tell it what I want from it (note: To fuck off and die, is not an available option.) Long ramble/rage short... I have phone service again.

And clean feet.

I am just glad the red upside-down "T" on my forehead isn't a lower case "t" because the next thing I need is to give the general public more of an opportunity to relate my existence with the devil or something. I don't feel like being beaten to death with a Bible or burned. So... *facepalm* *winch* *laugh*