If there is one thing I have learned, it's that the best way to get hurt is to love someone.

"It hurts to love, to care."

It's pretty pathetic, really. I know that I shouldn't anymore. I have every reason not to, but I still do.
Even though I know nothing can ever come from it, I can't stop loving her. It tears me up that I can't give up on it, because I know she's happier without me and better off.
I'm not strong enough to just walk away.

I haven't added anything to this for a while. I haven't had anything to write for at least that long. I got to wondering, though, whether she's really happier without me, and then I realized she must be. At least I hope she is. Maybe my soul wants to find peace in the fact that all the pain I'm still going through every day isn't for nothing.

[they always finish last.]
so ive been doing some thinking lately, and i think it might be about time for me to give up this nice guy personality. sure, its who ive been all my life, but its not really working out for me.
most everybody looks past me because ive never stood out as memorable, and that kind of pisses me off. everybody that takes the time to know me is always too afraid to be themselves around me because they dont think they can be mad at the nice guy, and even if they are, they wont tell me so i never know anything is wrong.
so my new goal in life isnt going to be to make people happy like it used to be. im going to look out for myself and no one else. nobody is really looking out for me, anyways, whats the point in trying to help them?
im sure i sound like a real asshole right about now, but you know what? i dont give a shit. as a matter of fact, i think thats a good thing.

when i joined the navy they said that id be living a completely different life.
they were right.
ive given up everything from my life now, and to be honest, it feels kinda shitty.

Last night Karen asked me if I'd ruled out the possibility of us being together again. I hadn't, but i didn't think it was a really feasable option either. I told her that I thought there was a lot between us that would have to change. I wonder if I would be able to do it again, be with her.
Is there love after loss?

On the run today I realized that what Karen and I had--our relationship--was not a healthy one. I'd always felt inadequate, that I wasn't quite enough for her; she wasn't happy. Maybe its better that it's over, not just for her, but for both of us.
It doesn't make it hurt any less.

I didn't get a lot of sleep last night. Threw up just now.
I couldn't stop wondering how long she's hated me, how much of our relationship was a lie.

It made sense after yesterday. I'd hoped, prayed, tried to convince myself it was not me. But it was. Today made it all the more real.
I was what extinguished the flame, what held her back. It hurts letting go, but it hurts worse that I held on so long and made her suffer.

Whether you read this or not I have to write it. I don't know why, but it's just something I have to do. I won't make it any different from what it is, but this is something that I need to say.

I knew something was wrong since Friday night when I got in to Philadelphia, something seemed off at the train station in Glenside when I got into the car. I couldn't really think of what it was, but something was strange. I'd told myself then to let you be, to give you whatever space you needed this weekend. After the silent treatment I got in the car on the way back from Brigantine, I knew that was what I needed to do anyway. I'd overstepped my boundaries by a lot and since I left all I'd thought about was what I could do to fix it. Friday night, though, it just seemed like that's what you wanted, for me to leave you alone.

In the van to and from the mall you sat away from me, on the other side of the seat, barely talked to me at all, kept looking away, out the window. I knew something was on your mind, but I didn't know quite what it was. I was scared you were mad at me, but just thought it was a bad mood or something like that. I tried to justify it to myself, tried to make myself feel better.

All day long Saturday I thought you were mad at me, but I was afraid to ask you why. I wanted you to tell me yourself, that was the main reason I didn't want to stay at your house all day, I knew you wouldn't tell me there with all your family around. In the movie theater you kind of sat away from me again, just like in the van Friday night. I knew for certain then that it wasn't just a bad mood or something like that.

At Ann's, after a while I thought you'd forgiven me when we were sitting on the couch. You seemed like yourself again, and everything seemed normal. We got home, watched the movie in your room and afterwards, when we were holding each other, that moment I was to happy. Being with you, I can let go of all of the crap I have to deal with at school and home, I just feel right; last night wasn't any exception.

This morning, though, everything was back to being different. Clinging onto memories of last night desperately, I held onto you, not wanting to let go. I knew, though, that it wasn't right and soon I gave up. We walked out to the park and when you told me you wanted a break, I'd seen it coming. I asked if we can still be friends, and I really want to be. I don't know if you want that, though. When I said I want you to be happy, that I do know for sure.

Somehow it doesn't hurt as much as I thought. Maybe shock, that this has not set in yet. Maybe because I know that not being with me is what you need to be happy. I love you, likely always will, and want you to be happy more than anything else in the world.

When we started going out I wasn't thinking of your feelings, what it would do to you when I had to leave. I was only thinking of myself, and how good I felt with you, and it was wrong of me to do that. My words don't do what I need them to do, they never have, but for what it means I'm sorry.

I'm sorry for every time I have hurt you. For every time I wasn't there. For everything I should have been able to do. I was never the man you deserve, and I don't know if I ever will be.

I've already taken so much from you that it's unfair of me to ask any more, but I need to. I want you to promise to be happy and to not worry about me. The first, I hope, is the reason I am writing this letter to begin with. The second is something that I ask so that it is easier for you to be happy. I will be fine, don't feel bad about any of this. Please do these two things, if not for yourself, then for me.

I don't really post that much anymore. I couldn't even really think of a title for this entry.
There's something I really need to say though. A while back I met the most amazing girl in the world. Smart, funny, incredibly beautiful...she's one of those girls that shouldn't change ever, even if she won't admit it.
There isn't really a way that I can put into words how much she means to me. Just telling her that I love her doesn't do it anymore. She's everything to me and then some and all I want for her is to be happy, but, me just being me I keep screwing up.
I'm sorry. I'm new to this whole boyfriend thing, I don't really know how to make it work...I'm just learning as we go.

[Dani California]
So I don't even remember the last time I posted in here. I guess that means it's been a while.
I'm here in Charleston now. Bored and burnt. I went to see Karen in Atlanta last month for FIRST nationals but I only got to see her for one full day and the night before I had to leave her at the hotel just after midnight.
Since then it's been really hard. I miss her, and there's no real way I can put into words how much. I just want to be with her, to hold her and every other thought I have is about her.
I didn't realize how hard it would be being in love.

Aside from that, I've bought Guitar Hero, a real guitar, got a sunburn or two, and been pretty much bored for three months. Nothing else is new.

1.2.2006; 1209 [The Beginning]

For a while now, Karen and I have been planning on getting together before I shipped off for Basic Training on the 11^th. This weekend was what happened from those plans. Thursday was my last day working at Staples, and Friday morning I woke up early to drive out to Exeter and catch my train down here to Philly.

The train ride down went well, until the car filled up completely with smelly old people and the coolant system gave out. I got nauseous. After nearly 8 hours on the rail, I finally arrived in 30^th Street Station. Just before I'd got there, Karen called me on my cell phone (and woke me up from the only sleep I managed to get that day, including the evening before; a good thing otherwise I would have slept through my stop), told me to call her back when I got into the station. Being the way Karen is, she put her phone into her back pocket and when it rang, Alicia—being Alicia—told her “Karen, your butt is ringing!” Karen dismissed this as another Alicia-ism, “I think I'd know if my butt was ringing,” and I stood in the middle of the station, pounding my redial and looking like a loon.

Eventually I found them in McDonalds (the place I should have looked first, considering Karen's taste in food), and we headed out. We all piled into the Hart Family Van, all six of us. Karen's mom, two sisters, Alicia, Karen, and me. Would have been a nice ride save the fact that I was still feeling pretty nauseous from the train ride, and we were in downtown Philly traffic, followed shortly by the bumpiest freeway I had ever been on.

This was the first time I had really met Valerie (middle sister), Juliana (youngest), and Mrs. Hart. All three look like Karen, only changed just a little bit. They're all really nice. Jana loves to interrogate people, Val is a more laid back version of her younger sister, and Mrs. Hart is the funny sort of middle ground that mothers always take with active kids. She always seems to have a cool, collected manner, no matter what the situation is.

Anyway, we all drove out on the bumpy freeway toward Mrs. Hart's mother's house. She had broken her ankle/foot, really messing it up in the process. Getting on the bus to go to work, she slipped and twisted it or something, but didn't take much heed when it was sore, Mrs. Hart called her a stoic, which I think applies pretty well. Within a few minutes, she noticed that it was swelling and changing colors pretty quickly. Eventually, she just had the bus driver drop her off at the fire station, and someone she knew from there drove her home. On top of it all, she picked up pneumonia or a really bad cold in the ER so she was losing her voice.

Heh, I can't keep from going off on these tangents tonight. We all got to grandma's house (luckily for my weak stomach) pretty soon, and hung out there for a while. Karen, Alicia, and I went downstairs to the living/TV room and looked at old pictures of Karen and her family, and made fun of how goofy they looked. Soon, Val and Jana came down and proceeded to bother us as all younger siblings love to do to their older sister and her friends.

Eventually, Mr. Hart showed up and I finally met him. To my surprise, I didn't get a hostile feeling from him all weekend, considering he thought Karen and I were dating months ago. He seems like a calm mannered, laid back kind of person, who reminded me (especially tonight) of my grandfather in the way he talked to the girls.

He took Karen, Alicia, and I to Karen's house and we went up to Karen's room to exchange late Christmas presents. I got Alicia three Sudoku books, and she did one of the puzzles in just over three minutes, shattering her previous record. Karen I got a Care Bear named Lucky. He is green and has a shamrock on his belly. I got her a necklace too with her birthstone in it (though I think it's a little pale to be the Aquamarine that the girl at the mall said it was).

Karen and Alicia teamshopped for me, as they always do, and got me a Heffalump stuffed animal from the Disney Store, a box of candy canes, and a random pink stuffed animal thing. All three were wrapped not in wrapping paper, but in whatever random stuff they could find at the moment they were wrapping them up...tissues, Seran wrap, duct tape...

Soon, Alicia, Karen, and I decided to go out and get something to eat, so we walked down the street to this little restaurant on the corner that was like a diner from the 50's. The food was alright, but I was still feeling a little queasy from the train ride. Getting something hot to eat did help a little with that.

Alicia had to leave soon after, so we didn't get to go to the movies as we planned that night. Instead, Karen and I watched Elf in the living room and then later on when Mrs. Hart got back with “the little ones,” as Karen refers to them, we all played Cranium together. Apparently Karen is usually good at that game, but when we teamed up we still came in last place.

They pulled out the air mattress and set it up for me on the floor of the living room, I was asleep in moments. The next morning, I woke up early, and being the first one up I didn't have anything really to do. I pulled out my laptop and found a leaky wireless network to slice in to and check my email, then I started reading the book Steph got me for Christmas: Nothing Feels Good: Punk Rock, Teenagers, and Emo, by Andy Greenwald. I'm about two thirds of the way through now and it's pretty good. Almost like a documentary on the evolution of Emo from Punk and Hardcore, how it influences, and is influenced by American culture, and all kinds of other fun tidbits thrown in the middle for spice.

We joke around all the time about being Emo, Karen and I. But it wasn't until I started reading this book that I realized how Emo I really am, if I can say that and let it still apply. The kid that is Emo analyzes himself and his world, and when it comes down to it, doesn't mind feeling bad. He also has a complex (no matter what the truth is), that the girl he loves is pretty, smart, funny, etc. and he's...mediocre. Not sporty enough to be a jock, not smart enough to be a brainy kid, not even nerdy enough to be a geek. The Emo kid is just what he is. Even before I read this book, I always had this kind of idea stuck in my head all the time. I never really bothered to tell people what I was thinking though, which is pretty un-Emo. I keep most things about myself bottled up inside...but that's just me. Mostly everything else applies, though. Especially with Karen, the lesser-than-she complex was prominent for me. I could never see her being able to feel for me like I do for her, because she's just a better person than I am, in most ways, if not all.

But enough of that depressing talk. Saturday, we went into Philly and walked around for the afternoon. We started out at Independence Hall Visitor's Center, got a map, and pretty much disregarded it for the rest of the day. We walked up to Christ Church, went in, and checked out all the pews and stuff, there were actually people buried just beneath the floor of the church, if you'll believe it.

After we were done that, we went up to the Betsy Ross House, and went through there, looked at all the old furnishings in the house, and almost died on the stairs (little more than ladders with more difficult steps, if you ask me). We listened to a Betsy Ross impersonator for a bit, and then headed out afterwards. I had to stop at Starbucks to get my caffeine fix, and a couple cookies of course. A few minutes after entering the Evil Empire Outpost, we left, me with my grande mocha with vanilla dust sprinkled on in hand, and we decided to go see the Fireman's Museum.

So we looked for some signs, and found them, the ones that lead us to the museum and when it started raining, we got wet. We got to the museum, tried to get in, and it was closed. Why? No one knows for sure. So we went back toward Independence Hall and went into the Constitution Center, which looked really cool on the outside, but was kind of empty on the inside. I think you needed to get tickets to get into the museum part of it, but I'm not sure. We left there pretty quickly after entering, and I was sad when Karen wouldn't let me take her picture in the new $10 bill standup where your face goes where Hamilton's should be.

Later on, we went through Independence Hall, saw the Liberty Bell, and went into the Curtis Building just to see what was in there. By then, Mrs. Hart and Val wanted to go home, and Karen was shivering from the cold, so when Val called me to see if we wanted to go home with them, we met up with them and left the city.

That night, Karen and I went to one of her friend's houses for a New Year's party. I met Amanda, Juliet, Ann, Colin, and two other girls, whose names I can't remember. They're all pretty cool, Ann reminds me of a guy named Phil that works in the Copy Center at Staples. Very calm, their words are always calculated but never meant to be mean. All Karen's friends are really nice though. A few were listenting to Dane Cook on their iPod, so I played what I had with me for Karen, and I think she liked it. We watched some scenes from Moulin Rouge (because all the girls there are in love with the movie. Colin and I were like “ok, whatever.”), then watched and sang along to Mulan. When the clock struck midnight we were all assaulted by the horns and their sound was horrible and loud. I wanted to surprise Karen and uphold the New Year's tradition where you're supposed to kiss someone at midnight, but I didn't know that she really wanted me to, and she decided to dance around soon after instead, so I didn't have much chance to ask her.

We went back to the Hart house, and soon, we turned in for the night. This morning, I woke up first, again. I didn't give in to the urge to wake up so early though, and I slept in for a bit longer. At about nine I couldn't sleep any more (why can't I do that when I'm at home?), and I got my Emo book out again. I went through about 120 pages before anyone came downstairs, and by then I was pretty much done reading for the day. If you have some time and you're interested in the growth of the music, it's a really good book, very informative.

By half past eleven, we'd almost all eaten, and we got into the cars to go to church. This was the first Catholic mass I'd gone to since my dad's own funeral service. I'd forgotten how different it was from a Protestant service, but maybe it's just this parish, and my memories are playing with my head again. The mass brought back some deep memories from when we went to that funeral service. Eight years past and I thought I'd moved on, but I guess I just buried everything and ignored it. Typical of me. Dane Cook was wrong, by the way. Everyone knows the moves...except for me.

After the mass, we went back to Karen's house, and Karen and I went out for a walk with the dog. We went around the block, and when we got back, we looked up the show times for the Chronicles of Narnia at the local cinema. The closest time was about 2 hours away, so we sat down in the living room and watched the most bizarre parade I'd ever seen on the TV. In Philly they have his tradition called the Mummer's Day Parade, where old, fat guys dress in drag and run around doing the cakewalk. Strange? Yes. Stranger still was that it's popular. They have these clubs that you have to be in to perform, and they all have waiting lists to join.

The movie was good, when we got to see it. Better and different that what I expected. I can't really go through any details without explaining the movie, and since my laptop's battery is low, I think I'll avoid that and just say that it was enjoyable.

After we got back from the movies, we all ate supper and then slumped down on the couch to watch some TV. Karen was leaning against me, so Val started bothering her, pulling her head off me and such, normal sibling stuff to do. So the parents decided that we were going to play a game of cards. We played a game of Rummy, then a game of Uno, and after that, Karen and I took the dog for another walk.

This time, we went all through the neighborhood. The air was a bit chilly, but it wasn't cold out tonight. It was relaxing and really nice to be able to spend some time just being with her. We went to an old school and sat on the swings and just talked for a bit. Something nostalgic about being on the swings, it makes you feel like a little kid again. We swung into each other, and one time I tried to swing behind her, only to end up hitting my face on the chain holding her swing up.

We went back to the house and started playing around with the computer for a bit. She and I took turns typing stuff to random people online, which is nerdy beyond all belief, but it was fun nonetheless. One of her friends IM'ed her and said “did you tell him yet??” just like that. I had no idea what it meant at first, but she closed the window and told me it was nothing. We went on just sending out random messages and stuff for a while. That killed some time until the inevitable happened, and Mr. Hart said we had to leave to drop me off at the station so I could catch my train. I picked up all my stuff, and we got into the car, Mr. Hart, Karen, and I. I didn't know what I was bold enough to pull off in the car with the dad around, so I just kind of leaned over like I was watching out the front window. Karen realized what I was doing and did the same. Even just sitting next to her like that, not even touching her, gave me a good feeling inside. We sat there, not talking or anything, just riding toward the city lights. When we got to the station itself, I was going to ask if I could have a few minutes to say goodbye to Karen, but Mr. Hart somehow knew and told her to “check to see if the trains were still running this late.” As protective as she said he is, Karen's dad is pretty cool.

I was planning on using this time to tell Karen how I felt for her. I figured if there was anything to be lost, it wouldn't matter now, with me leaving in less than two weeks. I dropped my stuff on a bench and hugged her.

We hugged for a couple moments, and I let go, thinking that she was just holding on because I was. She didn't let go. Was this what I'd been waiting for for four months to be able to do? We just stood there, hugging for a few minutes, and I told her “I am going to see you again. I am.” With a hint of a chuckle in her voice, she said back to me “I have no idea what you just said, but whatever,” I pulled my head around so my face was just in front of hers, to repeat myself, and she kissed me. Not even just once, three times. Instantly I felt unbelievably happy and sad at once. Happy that all this time I wasn't just someone that she was putting up with, she actually did have some feelings for me. Sad that I was too much of a coward to tell her myself how I really felt, and that it had only come out how we felt for each other at the moment when we were going to last see each other for a long time.

I kissed her back, and we hugged for a bit longer, just reveling in the moment. We sat down to take a couple pictures so that we could remember this forever.

No matter what, Karen always seems to look cute in her pictures. She seems to think otherwise, though. I took the first picture, and she said something along the lines of “I look so retarded!” but I had to disagree, to tell her the truth. Especially when she smiles, I can't help but be entranced by her. I told her I think she's beautiful, and that's not a lie.

“Funny,” I told her, “I've been trying to tell you this for a long time, but was too afraid...I didn't want to get labeled creepy,” with my typical sprinkling of sarcasm, “Me too,” was what she replied, and I'm sure she smiled at that. We kissed again.

“Visit me this summer, and write to me in basic, please?” I asked her once more, though I had already done so more than once over the weekend, with sarcastic responses that I'd expected and would have given myself, had I been posed the same question. “I will,” she simply replied. That meant more to me than people understand.

We sat there in the station, time melted away but I didn't care. I couldn't believe that this was actually happening, and I wanted to enjoy every minute of it that I could. Given the chance, I would have stayed there all night, just holding her, but that wasn't an option. Mr. Hart was waiting outside, and we didn't want Karen to get in trouble for making him wait so long so we decided it was best to let her go.

“I'll miss you,” she said, and when she turned back to me, she was so pretty I can't even describe it. Her face was a rosy pink, so I pointed it out, “You're blushing,” “Of course I'm blushing,” and I took a picture, because I wanted to keep that memory forever, without it changing.

We hugged one more time, and she turned to leave. With that, she walked out of the station. I made to go after her and say goodbye once more, but stopped myself.

Since then, I've felt that same feeling of combined happiness and sadness. I have a feeling in my stomach, the same feeling you get when you jump off a diving board, or go over a really steep water slide. A combination of adrenaline and fear. When will I get to see her again? No time seems soon enough.

I sat down in the train and started writing this entry as an effort to clear my thoughts. But nearly two hours into writing it, when my laptop's battery died, I still couldn't help but feel a sadness that the time we had together is over, for now at least. I tried to sleep some, since my train ride from Philly to Boston was nearly seven hours long. I turned on some ambient music and laid down on the seat, but couldn't seem to find sleep. The best I could get was remembering the beautiful dream that had just happened, over and over.

It's times like these especially that I wonder how some guys can see women as just sexual objects. Sure, I bet that's great and all, but why not find someone you really love and just enjoy their company? I get a high off of her voice, her face, her personality. I can't help but feel happy when I'm around her, no matter what's going on.

I wouldn't trade this feeling for the world.