I would be lying if I said that last night was easy.

It started out okay, with me sitting and reading in the living room and then moving to my room when everyone went to bed.  I crawled into bed like always, plugged my headphones in, and started my music.  Normally, there’s someone to talk to me, but no one was on, so I did what any normal person would do; Facebook stalking.  I stalked and stalked and stalked (for those who don’t know what that is, you basically just look at everything on someone’s profile; comments, pictures, what they wrote on other people’s walls, etc.  You really learn a lot about people by doing it).  When I got to the point of being bored, I started stalking myself (I’m not sure if this is normal).

That was the tipping point.  I found photos on Facebook, and I’m not smart enough to stop there.  I headed to my collection (HUGE COLLECTION) of photos, and before I knew it, I was in February 13 and 14, 2011.  Valentine’s Day.  Our three year anniversary.  (The crushing feeling is back just thinking about it.)  My throat closed up and I got an unbelievably painful ache in the top of my mouth.  It felt like there was someone sitting on my chest, and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t dislodge the feeling.  Taking a breath was painful, and I was getting a little dizzy.  But I didn’t stop in my perusal of pictures, and found more and more of us.  The feeling intensified and I couldn’t see past the glaze of tears.  I rubbed my eyes like crazy, but that glaze was there to stay.

I felt like I was suffocating and there was nothing I could do to stop it from happening.  It felt like I had ingested a lethal amount of cement and it was only a matter of minutes before I would be completely solid.  I laid there, begging my body to just be right again.  My arms and legs were leaden; lifting them was a feat.

At that point, I headed to the kitchen.  I dragged myself from the tangle of sheets, and stumbled from the room.  I can’t even remember what I gathered up, but I ate so much that this morning, I’m regretting it.  I stuffed myself full and then continued to eat.  I felt sick but kept eating.  I don’t know what I was trying to do, but I was shoveling food into my mouth like I was a machine.  I told myself many times to stop, but my legs kept taking me to the kitchen, my arms kept gathering more food for me to consume, and my hands transferred it to my mouth.

I finally tried to sleep (after many people told me to), and although I had a hard time, I dropped off in the end.  My dreams still haunt me.  They were full of insults and rejections; sharp jabs that make me sick to my stomach still.

I didn’t know it would be this hard.  I thought I hit the point where everything was as low as it could get, but I’ve never felt so low in my life.  I’ve never felt so sick about myself.  I’m in the most beautiful state in the U.S., but all I want to do is curl up in bed and stay in my room all day.  I don’t want to go back to Naperville because I’m afraid that everything I see will remind me of us.

Now I understand why, when people hear about the breakup, they ask “Are you staying in Naperville?”.  I never got why they would ask me something like that, when it was obvious that I loved the school that I’m attending.  Now I get it.

But I am staying in Naperville.  I’m staying at the college (even though he’s housed in the same building as me next year) that I’ve fallen in love with.  I’m happy there; even through this pain, I know that much.

And, before you offer, I don’t want your sympathy.  I don’t want your pity.  I don’t want you to console me.  I didn’t write this so people would think, “Oh, that poor girl, she’s having a really hard time.”  I know I’m having a hard time, if I expected any different, I would be an idiot.  I dedicated so many years to him; there was no other way a breakup could have ended.  I wrote this for myself.  A step that I could look back on and wonder how someone could get so low.  I wrote this so I could get a handle on my emotions.

I apologize if it’s too messy for you; it’s messy for me too, but that’s the way it goes.




Yesterday night, Kyle called me and asked me (in a very sad voice) if I would come up to visit him because he just got done throwing up and he wasn’t feeling well.  I said “of course” and went up to see him.

After rubbing his back for awhile, he was tired and went to bed.  I came down to my room, and a few hours later, I was clutching my stomach and sitting by the garbage can.

I never did get around to throwing up, but my stomach feels really heavy and I just feel bad.  Annette brought some chicken noodle soup, yogurt, clementines, 7-Up, saltines, antibacterial wipes and Gatorade and I feel a tad better after eating 2 cans of soup, drinking a Gatorade, and eating a clementine (all in the space of an hour), but I just feel empty.  Like I could eat everything in my food drawer and still some more.

So, that’s the reason I didn’t go to work today, that’s the reason I haven’t showered yet, that’s the reason I was able to finish a book I was only 70 pages into (“Fair is the Rose“, I’ll review it some other time…Maybe.), and that’s why you’re getting a post like this.


For the past five days, I’ve been house-sitting for a woman here in Naperville, along with the house, I’ve kept an eye on her two dogs, a 5 year old Weimaraner and a 6 month old mutt.  Both are highly rambunctious, but both are indoor dogs, so they sleep.  A lot.  I can’t just watch t.v. all day, so I packed knitting.  I packed Kyle’s Christmas hat, a hat that I started a long time ago, and then a little baby hat for my friend who’s having a baby in a month.

I finished Kyle’s hat:

And about 10 minutes ago, I finished the Thanksgiving hat:

I blogged about being in love with this pattern, and I am still in love with it.  Although the decreases are written weird and threw me off a few times, the pattern of this hat is amazing.  It looks like a waffle knit, and its so squishy and warm.

It took me a long time to finish it, but I’m glad I finally did.  I can’t wait to wear it when I have my long treks to class when it’s freezing outside, like walking back to my dorm at 8:30 pm.  That’ll be a fun one.

Speaking of dorms and classes, tomorrow is the first day of winter term!  I moved all my stuff in a few hours ago, but I have to sleep at the house tonight because no one will be here until tomorrow night.  So I just have to get up super early to get ready for classes, not that I don’t already do that anyways.  The older dog has been waking me up every morning at either 5 or 7.  Or both.

Now, the baby hat is still in it’s beginning stages, but I hope to have it done before the baby is born…Or worse, before he outgrows it.

The muscles in my arms and legs are exhausted and screaming and I know I should go to bed before midnight (like I have been the last couple of nights, last night I watched “Jerseylicious” until 12:30), but this house makes a bunch of weird noises and I let my mind run away with me and freak myself out so much that I couldn’t sleep if I wore earplugs.

I’m off to watch YouTube videos and hopefully find some other trashy t.v. shows to watch.

More Books

I’ve written about the number of books I have collected since I’ve moved away from home, and for Christmas, I got three more.

I got “Jane Eyre” (which I’m reading now), “Pride and Prejudice” and “Grimm’s Complete Fairy Tales”.  I showed you “Arabian Nights”, which I got for my birthday, and “Grimm’s Complete Fairy Tales” (to be known as GCFT from here on out) is from the same collection.  Both books have gorgeous illustrations, pages tipped with gold, and a ribbon bookmark.

GCFT had me in awe the minute I opened it.  The picture that is on the inside cover looks like this:

I’ve always wanted to read Grimm’s versions of the fairy tales that I know and love, and having an awesome hardcover will get me reading them.

And there are a TON of stories in here.  This is the first page of the Table of Contents:

These are the 2nd and 3rd:

These are the 4th and 5th:

And here’s the last page:

The front cover is a picture of Rapunzel wrapped in her hair:

I also got another book for Christmas, although I won’t get it until March.  I’ve talked about it a million different times.  It’s Jean M. Auel’s “The Land of Painted Caves”!  It was pre-ordered for me for Christmas, and it’ll ship within days of it’s publication.  I’m anxiously awaiting it’s arrival, and after I get some knitting done, and read some of the books that I already have, it’ll be here and I can enjoy the end of the series!  My goal is to read the first ones (again) to get ready for it to be here.

By the way, all the photos in this post were taken with another Christmas gift I got: a Sony Bloggie video camera.  Kyle got it for me, and I’ve been using it for everything…I actually made a video a few days ago showing some of my Christmas gifts.

Now I need to go and get Kyle’s Christmas gift made.  I spent so much time on Annette’s gift that I didn’t get time to even start his.

All A Dream

Last night, as I was struggling to fall asleep, I kept thinking about how different my life in college is.  The one thing that really stuck was while my eyes were closed.  I thought to myself, “What if I open my eyes and this is all a dream?”  And of course, I opened my eyes.  I didn’t see my old bedroom like I was expecting.  I saw some of my dorm (because at this time, it was 11 and really dark) and then closed my eyes again.

I couldn’t help feeling really disappointed that I was in college.

I tell people all the time, “I wish this was the time of knights and castles.  I would be okay with over-seeing the slaves, and having a new baby every once in a while.”  It’s totally true.  If that’s how life was these days, I would be happy.  But to be a 19 year old girl (woman?) in college, not pregnant, not married, is sort of throwing me off.  I know that the knights and castles idea won’t work for me, and I’m okay with being here in college,  but I can’t make myself get used to this place.  It feels so temporary.  Sometimes I feel like I hardly belong here; that I should be at home or something.  I still haven’t reached the point that I feel grown up.

I don’t know if you remember, but back before I moved to Naperville and started college, I was having doubts about whether is was the right thing to do.  I’ve read that post several times when I’m feeling restless and it makes me want to get packed up and just leave.  When I wrote that so long ago, Kyle asked me if I would really do it.  I told him that I wish I could.  He replied with, “You know I would just send a search party for you.”

It seems like down-time is the worst thing for me.  If I’m constantly doing something, my mind isn’t as free to sift through the possibilities that are in front of me.

To Catch Up..

So let’s start with Halloween.

You saw some of it, but here’s more.  We trick or treated for about an hour, but all of the neighborhoods were empty (which was weird because it was still pretty early when we went out).

On the day before my birthday (the day after Halloween), Kyle’s mom ended up getting me some clothes for my job interview (more about that later), and a gift card to downtown.  I made homemade vegetable soup like I used to  make at home, and Kyle’s brother made cheesecake.  The cheesecake was supposed to be chilled for 5 hours.  We didn’t want to wait until 2 am to eat it, so we had some slightly runny cheesecake; either way it was good.  Kyle’s youngest brother Scott drew me a picture (of a hyena!), that I hung right next to my bed.

The next day, which was my actual birthday, I dissected a pig fetus at 10 a.m. for Biology, and at 2.30 went to a job interview. (Yes, I showered in between.  I smelled awful.)

I got the job!

I also got some nail polishes and mascaras with my gift card from Ulta.

A couple of days later, I tried my hand at covering my tattoo, because my job requires that no tattoos are visible (and you know that I have one on each wrist).

Then on Friday, Kyle and I went to dinner with his dad and his dad’s girlfriend.  I got a book, and a set of travel MAC brushes.  (And I tried deep dish pizza, which I’m not really that fond of.)

I got this super soft blanket (among other things, I’m too tired to put everything back together to photograph) from my aunt Stacia.

Then, with the gift card, I got this from Barnes and Noble:

Christmas presents probably. :)

Then before my birthday week even started, I forgot to mention that Kyle bought me another book, one that I had been wanting to read for so long, but never had time to pick it up from the Hulett library.  It’s “The Rose Labyrinth“.  It was on the bargain table for $5.95, and he told me I could pick out any book for under $10.  It’s hardcover and I can’t wait to read it!

And then yesterday, Kyle took me to the mall to find some black pants for my job (I did get pants from Annette but they have gray in them, and I can only wear flat black.).  I got a pencil skirt, and some black pants (and tights, because I can’t have bare legs).  We stopped at Target and picked up some food, and I also picked up some more of the best face wipes ever (which was good, because when we got back, I used the last one from my first pack).

Now, I have reading to do, a paper to do, and I have a test (which is tomorrow) to study for.

Also, don’t forget to enter my giveaway!  It ends in 8 days, and I wouldn’t want you to miss out on free jewelry for the holidays! I pick the winner on Monday the 15th at 11 am Chicago time (so if you get in before that, while I’m in class, you still count).


Kyle took me to Paranormal Activity 2 last night.  I was excited at first, but as the movie progressed, I got more and more anxious.  Several parts made me tear up because I was so scared, and other parts made me jump and twist, almost breaking Kyle’s hand and wrist, which I was holding very tightly.

After the movie, we walked back to the car, with me avoiding the puddles because my shoes are so worn out, rain would seep in.  Rain was standing in huge puddles; everything was wet.

We started to drive back to Kyle’s house, and I was catching up on texts from during the movie.

All of a sudden, during a turn, the car started fishtailing on the wet road.  It went to one side, and I saw Kyle jerk the wheel to the other side.  It went on like that for what seemed like hours, but was only actually a few seconds.  The car straightened out, and I heard Kyle give an audible sigh of relief.

I started screaming at him, telling him that you don’t jerk the wheel, that’s what makes you flip.  And then I lost it.  I started sobbing uncontrollably, my entire body shaking, hot tears streaming down my face.  I was gripping my phone with one hand, and the handle of the door with the other.  I couldn’t make myself let go of either, even though my hands were cold, and hurt really bad from holding so tightly.  Kyle’s hand was on my thigh, comforting me with its warmth.

The scene of my car accident kept playing through my head, an endless loop that terrified me.

I was so mad.  How dare he tell me that I can’t hang out with my friends!  I took both hands off the wheel, kept my foot on the gas, and looked down at my phone, furiously typing a response before I ran out of service.  I looked up, just to check if I was on the road.  The speedometer caught my eye.  I was going 73, and the speed limit was 65.  I was going off the road.

Instinct told me to get back on the road, and I jerked the wheel, a sickening feeling roiling in my gut.  I started fishtailing.  I knew what was coming before it even happened.  My 2 month old puppy was in the car.

The car kept fishtailing, and then I was airborne.  My life flashed before my eyes; I see my dad, my brother, my sister, my nephew, my grandma, and then finally, I see Kyle.  I had my eyes open, and I kept telling myself, “This can’t be happening to me.  It’s so unfair to die.”

The metal of the car smashing into the ground, top than bottom, top than bottom, over and over made me scream.  The scream still echoes in my head.

The windshield shatters, spraying glass chips and dirt all over my face.  I finally close my eyes, holding tight to the steering wheel.  I taste dirt in my mouth and stop screaming.

The car finally stops slamming into the ground.

The window on my side is smashed so small, but I tell myself, “If your head can fit out, so can the rest of you.”  I reach for my seat belt, scared that it won’t open.  It clicks, and without thinking of the glass all over, without thinking about my dog, I drag myself out the window.

It’s a tight fit, but I manage to squirm enough to get out.

Once the ground is beneath my feet, I look around.  The car is almost buried under the dirt it dug up.  There’s glass everywhere, glinting in the sun.  I see the chrome of my phone and hurry towards it.

I fall to the ground, crawling to the edge of the road, trying to get away from the car.

The wheels are still spinning.  I feel like if I touched them, they would burn me.

I sit, mesmerized by the sight of my blood dripping.  It rolls down my arm, and then drips onto the grass, where it rolls down the stalk, and soaks into the dirt.

I see Salem up on a hill in the distance.  He’s sitting there, watching me.  He’s so small.

I call home.  I’m hyperventilating, and I can’t make my mouth form the words it needs to form.  My grandma, who answered, hands the phone to my dad just as a car slams to a stop and people get out.

The women rush to me, holding me, asking me if I’m okay.  Someone takes the phone from my hand and tells my dad that I’m alright but he needs to come.  The directions are wrong.  I try to explain that I’m “up top”, but the man ignores me.

Before long, there are cars everywhere, people swarming me, taking my hand, holding my neck.  A man is holding Salem, who is whining and fighting to get to me.  I hear the man talk to Salem, “Whoa buddy, she’s alright, look, there she is.  You’re okay, little guy.”

Then my dad is there, yelling my name, asking questions.  I can’t breathe, let alone explain what just happened to me.

I make Pat call Kyle; I expect him to be freaking out, not knowing where I am.  I tell dad that I was texting him, in a halting sort of way.

They strap me to a board, my blood is all over people’s hands.  The color is the only thing I’m able to focus on.

Finally, we get back to Kyle’s house.  I step out of the car, shaky.  My legs are jelly, unable to hold my weight.  We get inside the house, Kyle’s mom ruffles my hair, telling me that it’s cute when it’s down.  Then she sees my face and her voice holds a note of panic when she asks, “What happened?”  Kyle explains.  She asks if we’re okay, if we hit anything, etc.  While he explains, I escape to the bathroom to compose myself.  My face is white, my mascara is streaming down my cheeks, and caught in the hollows under my eyes.

When I come out, everything is suddenly okay, and I try to forget.  I make some tea to calm my body down, which is still shaking.  While we sit at the table, Kyle’s mom is across from me.  I feel her watching me.  I look up when she asks, “Did it remind you of your accident?”

I look away, but I nod.  I change the subject.

Then, while our laundry is finishing up, we watch Hercules.  I feel better.  We head back to the dorms when the movie finishes up, and go to bed.  I don’t dream, which is a relief.

On a lighter note:  I got some new makeup bags, because I’ve ordered new makeup.  They’re super cute.

They’re from Wal-Mart, and the brand is Modella.  I can’t wait to fill them up with all my new makeup.

The big bag will be the main case.  The second one, I haven’t really decided what I’m going to do with, and the smallest bag with hold my brushes, when I get some.