Moving Out, Moving On

I've moved my blog. I suspected an ex-boyfriend was cyberstalking me, and I decided that it would be best to move my blog and excise any/all mention of him from its text. If you happen to be the bastard who I'm referring to, please leave me alone. I don't want you in my life and the next step for me is to quit blogging permanently.

I'm not a fan of deleting or altering writing after the fact. Editing something that is active is one thing; it's a much different thing to edit the past. I'm not proud of myself for doing so, but I think it's in my best interest.

In reviewing older posts, I've really come a long way. I'm no longer religious. There are aspects of me that really like belonging to a church. But I would have to conclude that most churches would ask me to sacrifice too much of myself, to be someone I don't want to be, and I can't do that in good conscience.

I've dealt with a lot of jerks, creeps, and assholes in my dating life and in life in general. I'm really tired of that. It's easy to take advantage of me. I haven't learned how to protect myself from that yet.

I've been here for almost a year. Wow. It seems like a short time and yet also an eternity. There's so much I love about living in L.A.'s South Bay. Mostly the restaurants. I have yet to review FuRaiBo, my favorite Japanese place, or my favorite sushi place. Mmm. Sushi. It's been so long since I've had a decent California roll.

I think I've become a better author over the years; some of the early stuff I wrote was some real shit.

Blogging has even gained myself new friends. It's so hard to make friends these days and I cherish the ones I have. I miss hanging out with my friends from college, mostly Dan and Ben. They watched me go through some difficult times and helped me pick up the pieces. Thanks guys! I miss Theresa a lot too. I don't miss Butte though.

I'm not sure where this is going but my heart is sad right now. I'm confused and sorrow-filled and there's nothing I can do to change this particular situation right now. Am I a bad roommate? Am I a freak of nature? Why do I feel I suck at relationships? Am I a bad person or do I keep strange habits?

I don't want to get angry and act selfishly because in the end I'll lose what I want most. But to feel this way, makes me feel like I must be a masochist. I don't want to be a masochist, not really. I joke about it sometimes but I really do want to be happy. I don't want to be in pain or suffer needlessly. I don't want my heart or my head to hurt anymore. I don't want to be an insomniac.

Maybe I'm just weak now. I used to be so tough. Maybe I was never tough and just deluding myself and the self that I am now is the self I've always been.

Wow. I need to get some sleep. Or open up another bottle.

But I don't want to drink alone. I guess it's the bed for me.