I miss my Mommy.

You know what a big part of healing is? Apologizing and forgiveness. I'm sorry to my Mom for all the pain and trouble I've caused her. And I'm working on forgiving her. That takes time. And even when I get there, I don't think I'll want her in my life anymore anyways. Yes. She may have her faults, but that doesn't mean I haven't any. I know that's a hard thing to accept from most of my loved ones' perspectives. That's because I only talk about the bad times. It's easy to tear apart someone by listing their worst flaws. She was there for me during my first two suicidal attempts. The first was about my Dad. He-- I was upset about him neglecting us. It was upsetting more when I was younger than it is now. Maybe. Maybe I just know how to handle it better now. I wrote something about wanting to end it all. She drove me for an hour all the way where we lived at the time to La Crosse because she didn't know what to do. I've never seen her so scared. She was running red lights at 2am, screaming at other drivers. She gets really crazy when she's angry. The other time was after I moved back with them. I had no will to get up, eat, nothing. I was lifeless. And when I called her before that, she was there as soon as she could. Something tells me she'd do it again. But I don't want to try anymore. That piece of my heart is shattered and crushed. There's no repairing that. When she dies, I'll probably wish I had said something. Wish I had done some things different. Wish she was still there. I can't help it. I love my mom. I really do. It's the most painful thing in the world, losing someone so close. I miss my mommy. It hurts so much. I think what hurts most is that, for once, I know that there is no possibility of me being in the wrong this time. And I wish there was. Because at least, if I was wrong, I can admit it and being around them again. Hug them. Tell them I love them. Hear about their lives. My mom and brother were the top people in my life for the first 20 years of it all. Technically, minus 4 for my brother. All in conclusion, I'm healing. I'm getting there. I cry. I talk. I think. I move on. I don't need them anymore to live. They don't need me.

My Love Life in Sense

Two things strange I have noticed about love. The senses of touch and scent. Sometimes, when I brush my fingers across his skin, I feel a legit vibrating buzz nothing like I've felt before. It's not like a vibrating phone... or touching an electric fence. It's completely different and unique. And his scent... when it's just him and I cuddle up to him... he smells like pancake and waffle syrup. <3