The lack of lovey doveyness, or even just plain love, with my parental units is so often just plain...blah.  Mother's Day was further proof of their cold nature towards each other.  I asked him what he got her, and he said "Nothing."  Then he went into a mini rant how she's not HIS mother and therefore shouldn't be given gifts from him, and that Mother's Day is a day created by society, blah, blah, blah.   They're nothing more than roommates, it seems, tolerating each other only for financial purposes.  Dad thinks the only way to keep her happy is to spend money on her, while mom doesn't really reject the notion since that's all she seemingly cares to want from him anyway now.  I guess she's tired of trying to get anything else from him, especially more emotional commitment to the marriage.  But a happy marriage with love or even God in the center? Nope.  They're both equally stubborn, though.  My mom's made her efforts in the past to work on the relationship, but my dad's been stubborn about such things since even before they got hitched.  It's probably just not in his blood to be mushy gushy or affectionate with anyone, even his wife.  It's clear my mom wants something from him, more husbandly qualities I'd guess, which he probably knows, but he's not gonna attempt to give it, and she's not gonna forget it.  I'm sure he feels like she's trying to change him, or that she doesn't like who he is, which thus makes him ashamed and therefore angry enough to lash out at her.  She lashes back.  And it's a battle.  Over stupid stuff. Over serious stuff. 

He doesn't feel loved. Neither does she.  And yet, neither one of them do anything to show their love to the other.  I do remember one moment a long time ago when dad was in tears while confessing to us that he finally realizes how much mom loves him.  They talked for hours and didn't want us around, which made us worried.  Then later, they called us all together so he could open up to all of us.  Obviously, at one point in time, it dawned on him that he was a loved man. Too bad such a moment didn't last.  I wonder why it didn't. Now all I feel is a nasty vibe of hatred.  Such dislike and repulsion.  I asked him about that day later on in life when I was older, but he didn't want to talk about it. I love those two to death, but damn, do they ever piss me off.  It's like they want to get love before they give it.  She's got this "I don't need a man to make me happy" attitude about her now, which is normally a great way to look at things when you're single.  And heck, I guess when you're married too.  But when you're married, you don't and shouldn't even allow yourself the luxury of focusing on your own happiness over the measures you can take to make your spouse happy.  And I don't think either one of them ever truly put that into consideration.  Both, in their own way, are probably quite sure that it's a waste of time to put themselves aside for the sake of the other.  That's definitely a relationship not centered on a duty to love, even when things are rough.  What the hell do those vows mean to people? "For better or for worse" or "To love and to cherish."  That stuff means crap nowadays. No one ever gives a damn.

Well whatever.  Perhaps it's just all still a part of my silly dreamworld I've been accused of living in.  I'm one of these losers who is so intent on choosing to love someone, even if it's foolish, than to overly rely on falling in love them.  To choose to love is a far more powerful declaration than just falling.  Why does marriage always have to be so hard for everyone? Why is it always such a curse? I can't stand the times when I look for a marriage, someone's always telling me how much work it is, how it's not worth it, how the single life's easier, etc.  Why is hard work such a bad thing when it's something that's worth fighting for?  Maybe the single life's easier in some ways, and maybe it isn't.  But the one thing I don't like about the single life is the lack of someone I can be intimate with.  I don't like looking out for just myself.  I don't like thinking of just myself.  I don't like looking for what makes me and me alone happy.  I like the idea of having my own personal someone to love.  Even if that person sucks and has an ugly side, all I want to do is still love on them.  That's just my own marital duty.  Marriage isn't just about the freedom to have sex willy nilly or unbrideled bliss.  It's work, yes.  But it's work for a stronger bond.  It's partnerships. It's friendship.  It's lovers. It's enemies.  It's hardships.  It's ups and downs.  Who the hell cares what it entails?  It's commitment any way you slice it, and if someone wants to actually welcome that challenge, then so be it!  No point in fighting it.

I want that seriousness.  I guess that's why I'm still hesitant from dating guys just to date them.  I want to date to get serious, not date just to date.  Which kinda sucks because there's that tiny part of me that wishes to wallow in dating just to date, since I didn't get to experience too much of that growing up.  But there's that damn maturity thing in me that would rather get serious than playful.  And that whole fear of investing too much emotion into someting that isn't rea is quite the nagl.  I just wanna love.  Is that so evil?  There's a guy at work that sorta "jokes" about going out with me. Part of me thinks he's joking, since he's the resident jokester,but the other part of me feels that he isn't. I'm under the impression that he wants to date me without formally asking me out on a date.  The first time he let it out that to date me can be a possibility, I'm like, "Oh I'm totally not your type." He's like "Why?" I gave him my reasons.  I recall saying that I'm several years older than him, (what is it the younger ones always wanting me?) and that we've had different upbringings, blah blah blah.  A couple weeks later, the subject came up again, and he's like, "I know we're like completely different, but sometimes opposites attract!"  I was agreeable, but chuckled away the matter anyway.  He wants to hug me now for that extra physical contact, as if I'm oblivious to a man's REAL reason for wanting to hug a woman, especially a woman he's got a thing for.  "So when are we gonna go out on a date?"  he'll ask.  He jokes about being my date for my sister's wedding.  I find the whole thing kinda cute, but I can't tell if he's serious, since he's got the "boy who cried wolf" dimeanor.  I play along with him to make the situation less serious.  Dare I say, I can be a little flirtatious without knowing.  He asked if I missed him after only minutes of not seeing him, and after I laughed, I was like, "Oh yeah I always miss you!"  The boy's so young though.  Perhaps if I was in my 30's and he later in his 20's it'd be different. But that's not the case, so whatever he thinks may happen just isn't gonna.

Well anyway, I swayed a bit there, but my point is that I want seriousness.  I wish I can go out on dates just for the fun of it, but I just think that'd be careless of me when I know I'll want more.  It may be unfair to assume that any guy interested in me aren't serious about me, but I have to play it safe now.  I want to get married, but I don't want a relationship like my parents. Granted, they're over 25 years into their marriage and that's a long time for hatred to grow.  They've had a major head start.  But I think I can learn from them, what they do and what they don't do.   Once I get it out of my head that a man must be loved no matter how much he doesn't please me, I think it will make it all the more worthwhile.  I'm not saying it's my preferance, but it's something I do think about.  Getting married means accepting the possibility that a man will be unlovable as time goes on, which would then test the sincerity of my own love.  Heck, anyone can love someone who's lovable. It's loving the ones who are vile that's a truer test of love.

Well whatevah...

Sunlight. Pictures. Wedding. Me. Chaos.

Ironic, really.  I'm not much a fan of excessive sunlight.  My fair skin tone proves that I don't spend much time in it, at least uncovered.  I'm already worried about being the ugliest one in the wedding because of my pastiness, even though my sisters think I'm crazy.  Pfft.  That's easy to say when you're not the one feeling like a slug compared to a couple of butterflies.  But today whilst resting on my trampoline outside from doing my jumping exercises, I randomly took a picture of myself to see what I look like when the sun hits me.  It was so bright, though, so I had to keep my glasses on (which fortunately transitioned to a very dark tone), and I couldn't see the picture on my cell phone until well after I went back in the house. 

But when I finally saw the picture, it hit me:  my skin looks GREAT under natural light, better than I thought it did.  Even after many jumps and the bit of sweat that surely smeared my makeup, it just looked perfect.  It's all the more proof that fluorescent, articifial light is grossly evil, which is probably why I dread going into dressing rooms in stores.  They're great for illuminating a room, but damn, it does the same for blemishes and minor imperfections on your skin too. But natural light?  I've got a new love for it.  I loved the random picture so much, (rare for me to love a picture of myself), I spruced it up and made it my profile pic.  Yes, it's altered for a cooler effect, but still. But for anyone who may give a damn, this is the real pic. Do ignore my chapped lips, though. What can I say? I just finished exercising after all.  

Speaking of pictures, though, it's starting to dawn on me that I'm not in alot of them that include my family.  'Tis true.  Any time we have get-togethers or whatever, and someone wants to take a picture of the people present, I usually don't want to be included because of how I know I'll look.  Bloated and huge.  I mean, I know I can take some good pictures, but they're usually in the privacy of my room and after I take a huge number of them. More to choose from.  But that's not quite the option with public photos.  Once, maybe twice, is all I get to look great and like I actually belong.  But alas, it's not common to look halfway decent when I include myself in group photos.  It's almost always the case.  Usually I don't even care if I'm in them or not, but lately, as I flip through my sister's photos and click on random myspace pages, there's all sorts of pics with my family, but none with me in them. 

Is it regrettable?  Unfortunately yes. Either I hurry up and "deplumpify" myself so I can actually like what I see, or I learn to suck it up, get over it, finally accept my body for what it is here and now, and include myself in some damn family photos.  I'm practically everywhere in photos when I was younger.  Nowadays, not so much.  You would never think I exist if you saw some of my family's myspace pages, or albums, or anything else.  And any picture I AM in is soooo horrible.  It's a flippin' shame.  I wish I was like my sister where even if I'm blinking, I can still take a great picture.  She's like a model in everything she's in.  I have my moments, I guess, where I can feel like the prettiest girl in the room, even in comparison to my slimmer, supermodel, goddess-like sisters, but they're oh so rare. I'm DEFINITELY not saying that to brag, of course.  Hell no.  That doesn't mean I don't appreciate even one moment where I can be the swan for once and not always the ugly duckling.  Ugh, but in fact, I hate that I have to compare myself to them either.  But it's so hard to feel good about my looks when they look so much better whether it's in person, pictures, whatever. 

So you see, I'm dreading the wedding in June.  Seriously dreading it.  That will be a day of many pictures, both at the wedding and at normal places as my extended family and us have a proper family outing in Chicago.  Pictures, videos, and more pictures.  Heh, if only it would be an outdoor wedding with the nice sunlight so at least my skin can look nice.  Oyyy.  My bridesmaid dress, even at 4 times bigger--4 TIMES BIGGER!--than my normal size STILL does not fit me.  Now I have the added stress of wondering if it will be possible to have it altered to accomodate all my "womanliness," seeing as how it's seemingly more geared for girls without meat, fat, etc.  The dresses are designed "small."  So lucky me has to be the one who has to get it more stretched out whereas the other girls get the luxury of having them taken in.  If it can't be taken out to fit me, I just don't know what I'm supposed to do.  Even if I get another dress, that will take a long while to order again and get it delivered in time.  My mom suggests making one, which I'm actually all for, but still.  It has to be almost exactly as the others.  What a headache. And I so saw it coming when I saw the kind of dresses she wanted us to wear. Those damn spaghetti strap, tight dresses fit only for those taller, slimmer type of girls. 

What a burden the pictures will be.  But what a burden I hope I WON'T be.  I'm trying to be strong and not allow myself stoop to the level of excessive brattiness. I just hope I won't fail.  It's still my sister's day and I don't want to be a sourpuss and ruin the whole thing by not participating in ANYTHING.  Trust me; it's not what I want!  If I were being totally selfish, I wouldn't have even accepted walking in her wedding.  I would have just gotten my own dress and sat in the audience.  But I wanted to make her happy, even at the expense of my own happiness  I just don't want that unhappiness to bleed out and make everyone else miserable.  Blahhhh.  Lord, give me strength.

So I'm officially making more than what I was making at my other job. I got a 28 cent raise a few weeks ago, but never realized.  That puts me at about 11 cents more an hour than what I was making at my first job.  I just wonder how far it's gonna go.  I didn't even think I was still getting incremental raises. It'd be great if I make it to double digit hourly pay rate.  Great indeed.  Only a few cents more, dammit.  Two more raises like this and I will have past the point of finally getting double digits.  But I won't get my hopes too far up.

Anyway, it's weird to say that the latest guy to have gotten my number hasn't quite mustered up the guts to literally call it yet.  But it's true.  A new man has my number and hasn't taken advantage of it.  Weird, but kinda nice.  Has he not contacted me at all?  Not exactly.  Instead, he's sticking to the less direct way of interacting with me:  text messaging.  It doesn't bother me all that much, to be honest, even though I wonder why he's so afraid to actually call me.  But I suppose, as I've been told before, I intimidate him because he likes me too much, and he's too shy to make sudden moves around me.  It's as if he wants me to make the moves so he can be the one to accept or reject.  I don't blame him.  Being rejected utterly sucks.  He's very obviously playing it safe. That's cool with me.  It gives me plenty of practice on how not to just give in to a guy just because he likes me.

I still chuckle at how he even got my number in so slick a way, though.  It was back in February I think. In fact, if it wasn't for me actually putting it out there, he may have not have braved asking me for an even longer time.  Cleverly, he claimed he wanted to send me a picture message of his fish tank so that I can see the problem he was having.  But he never quite said, "So...can I have your number?" After much discussion about his issue, I finally was just like, "So yeah, I guess you're gonna need my number then, huh?"  Well of course he just smiled and said yes, typing it into his phone right away as I wrote it down for him.  I wonder what was going through his mind?  Maybe something along the line of "Finally."  I still can't believe I gave it to him.  I suppose I kinda felt bad at how seemingly anxious he was to move further with me, but how incredibly nervous he was.  I suppose such a thing is just refreshing to experience again.

He sent what he intended to send, of course, but thereafter, he'd send normal texts, the first of which had read "I just wanted to tell u that ur a very attractive woman and ta have a nice day."  Then there'd be many more messages with the intent to get to know me, things that'd normally take place during an actual conversation on the phone.  He mentioned that I turned out beautiful when I spoke of my mutt heritage, how I'm mixed with Puerto Rican, Mexican, Spanish, and Native American.  It probably takes a lot for him to brave giving me a compliment, since my instinctive response of just shooing compliments away seems to suggest to him that I think he's a liar, so I have to try and be nice about it.  It's strange to be so restricting in such conversations. I suppose I can be the one to break the text message barrier and either do the calling, or tell him HE can do the calling, but blah, I still don't want to make him think I like WANT him or anything.   After all, he's still not my ideal person to even think of getting involved with.  He's cool and all; I sense he'd be fun to hang out with like DJ can be, but the last thing I want to do is make him my friend when he's looking for more. That wouldn't be fair to him at all.

Today was rather a rather interesting turn of events, though, since it's becoming much more evident that he's getting a tad bit braver in expressing how he feels about me.  Not TONS more evident, but evident enough.  He starts to talk about things unrelated to fish more often now, silly things.  He asked about my hair and if I'm letting it grow out, as if searching for an excuse to feel the ends with his fingertips a minute after.  He touched my shoulder as if to say it's not necessary to show him one of the critters I was teaching him about.  Heh, and it was funny the moment where he took full advantage of one of our topics, because I was commenting how my head is so huge compared to my sisters (a fact that's very evident in pictures), and he just stood out in front of me, staring at my face dead on. I just stared right back with a smirk on my face.  He did it a couple of times too, like he was trying to get the full effect of my image. I caught on, of course, and just mentally shook my head at how slick he was trying to be with me.

But the most interesting moment was just before he left, in which he was like, "Feel free to keep in touch with me!"   A welcome to call him, of course.  I mentioned the same to him, since he actually claimed that he wanted to text me again after a long hiatus of not doing so, but changed his mind.  He didn't say why, though.  I'm guessing he chickened out.  Either way, it still applies to both of us.  When he left, he sent a text message that read, "Do u know u r very pretty"  I was like whoa boy, here we go again...being bombarded by compliments I have to struggle to believe.  But since I didn't want to hurt his feelings, I kindly cooperated with his text and thanked him.  Later on, after many random texts, he finally asked the crucial question:  "Do u have a man..."  Well I wasn't about to get all into it with him on text messages, so I answered his question as simply as I could.  He wondered why nothing materialized between my guy friend DJ and I, but it's hard to answer that question in one solid answer, especially on a text message.  I gave as best a gist as I can without the complicated detail.  Either way, my answer was still no, that there's no official man in my life.

So what's next? I don't know.  I'm still at a stage in my life where I don't want to get so wrapped up in potential men that it stops me from seeking out more important matters, like my Christian walk.  I'm feeling so horrible lately about myself in that matter.  I know exactly what it is I have to do, but no clue as to how to go about getting it done. One step at a time, yes, but where should I take that first step?  I don't want to become how DJ has become:  uncaring.  I don't want to not care about living a life worthy of my calling, whatever it may be.  DJ's at a point in his life that he's not caring as much about being godly like he used to be.  He hardly ever goes to church anymore, and is doing things contrary to how he used to believe.  That saddens me because I want to still believe that he'll go far in life with God's instruction. I want to believe in HIM.  But that's not enough if he won't believe and fight for it.  It's also saddening for myself, because he was my one inspiration, and now...not anymore.  If he can fall apart, what's to stop me?  I just don't want to not care like he doesn't, and I don't want another man to become what God should be in my life.

This guy's very nice and sweet.  He's gentle and quiet-mannered, factors I love to find in men.  Of course, that's the take I get on him so FAR, but often those first impressions don't mean much sometimes.  DJ was just the same to me until he transformed into something completely different and unlikable.  Same goes for my actual ex boyfriend.  They give you heaven when you first meet them, and then after there, hello hell.  So while first impressions are important, they're also often unreliable.  It's quite unfortunate that nowadays, you can't tell who's real and who's not.  But this guy, blah.  He's the guy with a son from a past relationship I had blogged about long ago.  He's got the baggage that I'm not sure if I can embrace, what with having a "baby mama" and such, and for sure my family won't readily embrace it either. There's no telling what he wants in a relationship, especially sex, which he won't be getting from me.  That alone is enough for a man of today to reject me.  Most importantly, I don't know where he stands when it comes to religion.  If I can't find a man who can be somewhat on my level, it won't work to the point where I want it to work.  How's a man to pray with me or for me when he doesn't even believe in Jesus?  Blah.  It's just too bad, though.  Too very bad.  Still, it's nice to blog about for once about another man that isn't the same man for once.  Brings back memories of blogging about the good times with men, boyfriend or not.

Hmmm...I have a lingering headache.  Not only was it an insane Sunday at work, but I also had my bothersome contact lenses giving me attitude.  What's sad is that I knew they'd give me attitude and I purposely brought tylenol to work.  But alas, I forgot to take them, so I was stuck with a headache all day.  An insane headache coupled with lots and lots of people.  I guess it was so busy that I forgot I had a headache, which I suppose was a good thing.  The only times I realized my head was throbbing was when the crowd slowed down for mere minutes at a time.  Blah.  What a day.

I remembered what it was like to have butterflies again, though.  A customer was nearby who was strikingly similar in apparance to my first boyfriend.  He wasn't as tall and a little slimmer, but man, it was eery.  I couldn't tell at first the similarity until he lifted up his head when I asked if he needed help.  For a moment, he just stared at me before he answered.  It was during that stare where the quick thought crossed my mind, "Hmm, is that him?"  The way he looked at me seemingly suggested that perhaps we already met in some past life.  But it was nothing like that.  He just smiled politely.  Either way, though, the resemblance was uncanny, so much that it gave me butterflies. 

How very pathetic that even after 5 years, my first boyfriend (or even someone who looks like him) can still make me go aflutter. Even when I turned him away for good, I can still feel this way.  I sense it will be like that forever too.  But I guess that's a first love for you.  First loves always have that special place in your heart and apparently, that's still the case with him.  While it doesn't make me miss him per se, it still makes me miss the feelings I had when I was with him.  I miss those dang butterflies sometimes, that feeling of being with someone who can warm my heart and make me love just loving him.  I haven't had that in so long that I've all but forgotten what it was like.  So I guess in a way, it was nice to know I still had it.

I got pretty close to feeling that again with my male friend DJ, close to developing a strong love for him even though we never became a couple.  At least, at first.  He's a male brat and has a horrid attitude about life lately, but even then, I can still tell that if things were different with our situation, I can still love him just the same.  I do think about him alot, wondering what he's doing and if he's alright, but that's not because I'm madly in love.  Nah, my experiences have taught me that just because someone's on my mind, doesn't mean I'm falling for them.  In his case, it's pretty much because I've grown to care about him and am genuinely concerned about his wellbeing, no matter how much he pisses me off, and boy, does he ever piss me off.  That's what knowing someone for over 4 years can do to you I guess.  That's plenty of time to get acquainted with them where they're not so much a minor issue, even if they DO get under your skin. 

It's wonderful practice I think and helps prepare me better for a marriage to a man.  "It's not always rainbows and butterflies," as the song says.  But yah, that just goes to show me how absolutely stubborn I'd be just for the sake of being loving to someone.  Perhaps that's why I put up with so much crap from men.  Desperate to love on them.  But I have to be fair to myself.  While there's nothing wrong with loving as much I know how unconditionally, I deserve to be loved on in return. It'll help maintain my motivation to love them.  Not that I'm only intending to love them if they love me back, but....it's evident to me now just how willing I am to love a man even when he's at his worst towards me.  If that's the way it's gonna be for me, then I simply must remember to allow myself to have the same thing.  I can't allow myself to go without being loved.  It just wouldn't be fair to me.  I don't think that's being selfish.  It's just being smart.

Blah, this friggin' headache is coming and going.  I guess that means I should be going...

My apologies...

Sowee everyone.  I'm not as habitually obsessed with blogging as I used to be.  Yes, yes, another phase of mine, I suppose.  Sure I'll blog here and there, but this place is no longer a daily event of mine.  So, not only does that mean less blogs, which is minor, but that also means less visitation to everyone else's blogs too, and that's major.  It's basically me not being as obsessive about coming to this site at all.  For that, I feel blah for.  I used to be so good with keeping up with everyone's lives.  But now I have a tendency to slack one day, then two, until it's many days without knowing or even checking on anyone else's lives.  So while I don't feel bad for not blogging, I do feel bad for not looking into other blogs, even on the random days I do come here.  I'm sorry for avoiding everyone. Blahhh. 

Such a thing is usually so beyond my character.  Why I let it get so far gone is beyond me.  I feel like a hypocrite because it's like I'm turning my back on people, and that's one thing I hate that people do to me.  Honestly it's mostly because I just don't spend hours online like I used to.  I've all but turned my back on AIM and other instant messaging, usually only coming on when someone specifically requests me to. But as far as making it a daily thing like before? Nope.  Those days seem so distant, so long gone.  I remember how I used to rush home back in the day just to chat up a storm with whoever graces me with their presence.  Now I just shrug, and not even bother getting too close to anyone, and that means, getting close to their lives.

What has happened?  Life, I suppose.  This blogging thing's just the beginning.  Maybe this is the phase that everyone else encounters where the real world overtakes you, and the cyberworld vanishes into oblivion.  Everyone moves on and finds other things to obsess over that doesn't involve invisible faces from somewhere else.  But that's just it. This isn't a fake world.  There are real people here just like in the flesh around me.  They're just on different sides of the planet.  So there's no excuse for my behavior.  It's just so....grrr.  I hate when I mess up and do something I have such hatred for.  I guess my only solace is knowing that it's not intentional.  It's almost as if I'm going through dormancy of some sort.

That's the one downside of learning to like and love the people I get to know on this path of life:  knowing that all good things eventually come to an end.  Great people are just one more needle pricking my love-starved heart once they're gone for whatever reason.  It's ironic, really.  I don't want to live and die alone in this world, but now lately I don't want to fully embrace the people around me because I may just have to endure the hardship of letting them go.  It's almost like choosing not to love someone because they may one day break your heart.  It's that fear of vulnerability, perhaps, that fear of presenting all of myself in all my glory only to realize that the people there to see it will lose interest and walk away.

I've heard the saying:  "If you really love something, sometimes you just have to let it go." I'm sure there's more to it, but it escapes me.  Sometimes I can stand so strongly by that saying, but other times, not so much.  How do you let something go that you just yearn to keep on loving, be it a relationship, people, or ways of life?  With lots of practice, lots of trial and error, and lots of willingness to undergo the changes and curveballs life decides to toss your way, that's how.  It's surely possible, but definitely not easy.  God knows it's never easy.  I'm a puny human so frail and so easily swayed by both the good and bad in life, that when I finally get a taste of something really good, letting it go is the toughest task to achieve.

Sometimes it's not even the fact that something's neither good nor bad that's the problem; sometimes it's just fear of change that overwhelms our little minds, and we hate to let things go because that would mean there'd be something new to deal with.  The thing we can't let go of may even be bad for us to hold on to, but that horrid fear of the unknown is a far worse curse to have it seems.  Unfortunately, that often becomes reason enough not to bother to take chances in life, because there's always that possibility that a good thing will be born and then have to die.

But I digress.  My point is that I have difficulty letting go of something that's either good for me, is enjoyable for me, or is just something worthwhile to have.  I've never been one to embrace major changes, even if they're for the best.  Do I want to keep it that way? Nah.  But it's not like I'm rapidly evolving into some random new creature either.  Slowly but surely, though, I'm getting there.  As much as I may want to escape the possibility of falling in love with people, or lifestyles, or situations, or whatever else, I still feel like it'd be a crime to turn my back on opportunities to touch people's lives, if that's at all possible.

Truth be told, I have no idea who will cross my path. I just know that my getting attached to them and being hurt by them will have to be the price to pay if it means that somehow, someway, I make their lives a little brighter.  A little better.  It'd be a shame not to.  I can't sneer at chances to brighten up someone's day just because of my own petty little fears.  Easier said than done, as always.  I mean look, my treating this place as I have been is proof enough that I'm totally screwing up this mission of mine.  Bleh. This whole loving things even when you may have to let them go is so sucky sometimes. 

My apologies.  I'll get it right one day.  But if I don't, I'll just have to live with the fact that I at least tried.