Back At It

Hello! My god, I haven’t posted on this blog in forever. I made my new blog so that I could separate my posts about motherhood from personal posts, but I guess I’ve learned that once you have a child, there is no separating your parenthood from your personal life. In a way it’s wonderful to be tied to someone like that (I mean, she’s literally 50% me), but on the other hand it’s a little exhausting.

I guess this post will be more of a rant if anything.

So this semester is my first time taking a full course load (12 credits) in a year. I honestly thought I could handle it, but I’m starting to find that I really, really can’t.

Here are the reasons why I’m freaking the fuck out:

1) More credits

Last semester I only took 6 credits online. The spring before that I took 12 in class. But there’s a difference.

The 6 I took last semester were psychology classes, and I already have a good foundation of psychology behind me. I already knew, for the most part, what was going on, or I would just have to build on my existing knowledge. Now, I’m planning on switching majors to business (marketing to be exact), and I have absolutely no experience with college level business courses. So not only are there more, but they’re all brand new, and require a COMPLETELY different frame of thinking than my psychology classes did.

2) Online

The 2 classes I took online last semester were nothing. I already had a lot of previous knowledge and they were pretty simple for the most part. Plus, they were both “pace yourself” classes with no fixed schedules.

The classes I’m taking this semester are COMPLETELY different. They have weekly schedules and deadlines to meet, and there are a lot more assignments than my previous classes had. I’m finding it exceedingly difficult to be able to keep up with the course work.

I feel like if I had taken these classes in-class rather than online I would be under a lot less stress, because in class I would have people to talk to and a lecture to listen to, but in my house, not only do I have to combat the feeling of general laziness, but I have my daughter to take care of.

3) Ember

My baby is not even 3 months old yet. She requires A LOT of care. Her day works like this: nap for 1 to 2 hours, wake up, eat, poop, play, sleep again. Repeat. High school had gotten me adjusted to this “do all of your homework in one sitting” mindset, and that worked for me for 5 years. Now all of a sudden it’s “constantly start and stop, and sometimes stop in the middle of a thought because the baby is crying”. Ember has finally gotten into the habit of sleeping 5-6 hours in a row at night, every night like clockwork starting at midnight. For the first week I thought “Maybe if I try to get it all done during that time span I’ll be good”. But no, no I won’t. Turns out staying up all night when you have a baby will kill you during the day.

When Ember is awake, she wants to be entertained. She will actually cry of boredom. I have to play with her. If I sit her down in front of the TV, she’ll usually stop fussing and watch, but the thing is that I don’t want to do that to my baby. I don’t want her to be a brain-dead TV head before she’s even 1 year old. I’ve considered dropping her off at my relative’s house some days of the week so I can go to a library or something a study in peace, but the weather is so bad that every time she goes out she ends up getting sick and I can’t let that happen.

So pretty much, I am a nervous wreck.

My anxiety had gotten better over the past month, but recently it’s almost been right back where it used to be.

Thankfully I don’t have suicidal thoughts like I used to. It was a really rough 2 months after Ember was born, but thankfully I’ve been able to pull myself out of that. This anxiety is more like an, “I am so stressed and I have so much to do that I literally can’t function thinking about all the stuff I have to do”.

People don’t understand how dangerous the “depression/anxiety” pair works when it comes to academics.

The depression, by itself, leaves me hollow and unfeeling. It leaves me paralyzed in bed unable to move, sometimes so numb that I let my daughter cry for about 10 minutes before I have the strength to get up and give her whatever she wants.

The anxiety, by itself, makes my body start to overheat, and I start having panic attacks over the smallest things. Little arguments can make me cry and hyperventilate. Thinking about something stressful can make me heat up and start nervously scratching myself until I bleed.

The depression and anxiety together puts me in bed, with no energy, scratching myself until my arms bleed while my head hurts trying to strategize a way to get all my work done in time. Once I have my mental homework schedule planned out, I remain in bed, still without energy, and panic, constantly revising my schedule because I lack the mental capacity to execute it with efficiency. When I finally get the energy to get my textbook out, the words are blurry and my mind is racing with panic and I start to cry because I am so worried about failing that the thought of failing is what is actually leading to my failure.

You can read that paragraph and tell me I’m insane, and others will probably agree with you, but I swear to god that describes me on a good week.

I feel in my heart that I won’t go spiraling into a pit of suicidal depression again, but I’m feeling such a horrible stress I’ve never felt before, and I honestly don’t know where it will lead me.


Getting Older Growing Colder

Winter certainly greeted me with a bang this morning.

I was getting ready to go to the grocery store. I looked out the window and saw patches of snow on the grass, but nothing more. I was pretty upset ’cause I was expecting a blizzard and a little more winter action but you know, you take what you can get.

I took one step outside and then WHOOPS, I slipped and fell on my bum. It scared the shit out of me, it was so unexpected. I looked around and saw there was ice everywhere and I was like, well, here’s the winter action I was looking for. It was a terrifying 10 minute march to the busstop as I obsessively watched my every step.

Winter. My favorite season. Also the literary symbol of death, or an end.

To be more exact, the end of my first semester in college.

It feels so strange! It seems like just yesterday I was filling out college apps hoping University-sempai would notice me.

It seems like yesterday I was a 5 year old letting go of my mom’s hand and walking onto the school bus for the very first time. It was raining hard that day. I sat alone on the bus and started sobbing because I was scared. I remember walking into the school and thinking it was a palace. It was gigantic to my small 5 year old self.

I remember growing older. I remember being an 8th grader, out of elementary for 2 years. I remember going back and thinking it was absolutely tiny, wondering how I could have ever thought it was a palace.

I remember growing older still. I remember just this past summer, in June near the end of the school year, going back to that elementary school again for the first time in another 4 years and thinking it had shrunk yet again.

But of course, it’s not shrinking. I’m getting taller. And older. Much, much older. On my last visit I found out that I have only one teacher left that taught me that is still there. My first grade teacher. That’s incredible. Of all my teachers, the one I had 12 years ago is the only one still there. Unfortunately she wasn’t there the day I visited, but I saw her picture in the year book and for some reason I was stunned.

She was tiny. She was a little old lady with a sunken face and a full head of white hair. I don’t know why, but I walked in expecting to see the same bright young (all things considered) brunette that taught me 12 years ago.

It was a shock. I’m getting old. I’m getting so, so old. I’m 18. There is no one holding my hand anymore.

Then I thought again.

Yes, there is someone holding my hand. My boyfriend. I am 18. For all I know, in 5 years I could be married with a child, and that is bone-chilling and frightening.

A few days ago, my best friend lost her virginity. A part of me was screaming “You’re just a child! You’re too young!” But then I remembered, no, she’s not. She’s 18. I was 17 when I lost my virginity.

We’re not babies anymore. We’re old.

This winter, I complete my first semester in college. It feels like the first day of school was just yesterday, I can’t even process that this season is through. Time is going by so quickly.

I’m going to say that this winter is death. The death of my childhood. Of course childhood is subjective and I’m only as old as I feel, and the truth of the matter is that I’m still an 18 year old at the very beginning of my life, but sitting here thinking about my younger days makes me feel like a wistful old woman.

Let’s Talk About Sex (aww right)

If anyone’s seen the movie Pitch Perfect, I thought of the title of this post the way Bumper sang it during the riff-off… Okay then.

One problem has been bothering me for a very long time:

“If you have sex, your penis will fall off and land in another dimension populated entirely by dogs, who will eat it.”

“Don’t have sex, you will get pregnant and die.”

Well those weren’t very good examples from Family Guy or Mean Girls, but you get the idea. Schools (and ((religious)) society in general) are purposely trying to scare kids (adolescents), or feed them lies, to prevent them from having [premarital] sex.

Let me say this: It won’t work. With sex being so over-glorified in every form of media, and being open with your sex life is almost encouraged in this day and age, there’s no way to stop kids that want to.

Here’s what happened at my friend’s school:

During their Family Life Education unit, their teacher asked for a volunteer. A girl was called up, and the teacher put a ring on the traditional wedding finger. The teacher said, “Many of you want to get married right? If you have premarital sex, here’s what will happen.” And she took the ring off, heavily implying that premarital sex will prevent future marriage, also implying that you will become “tainted” and “impure”. The lady didn’t talk about contraception either. Apparently she just discussed how babies happen, and alternatives to sex. Contraceptives were mentioned, but not in detail.

Sigh. Luckily for me, my school isn’t that bad. We discussed the different kinds of contraceptives and they emphasized that if we’re going to have sex, to use protection. Of course they also emphasized that abstinence is the only fool proof method to prevent pregnancy and STI contraction, but you know, that’s just a fact.

Other school’s, like my friend’s, aren’t as fortunate. Schools and society are using scare tactics to try and prevent premarital sex, largely for religious reasons. (Though there are un-religious reasons, such as unwanted pregnancies.)

I’ll say this: Sex is great. It feels awesome. And contrary to popular belief, premarital sex won’t damn you to a life of misery and woe.

Reasons To Have Premarital Sex:

  • It feels great
  • You and your partner trust each other
  • You are emotionally prepared
  • You just want to (It’s natural, and there shall be no slut-shaming in a one-night stand my darlings)

Reasons NOT To Have Premarital Sex:

  • You’re getting peer-pressured
  • You think everyone else is doing it
  • You think you’ll lose your significant other if you don’t

Now let me tell you some things about sex that the schools probably don’t mention *(things might get graphic):

FALSE – The Morning-After pill makes you feel like shit.
Yes, I had to take one. Accidents happen. I was beyond scared because I learned in school that it forced heavy bleeding for at least a week and it made all your worse symptoms hit you times 10. Well, none of that happened. I felt completely normal. I even called Planned Parenthood to make sure everything was okay, and they said that most women who take the pill experience little to no side-effects. I had spotting for 2 days, but besides that, I felt perfectly normal.

TRUE – Use a condom during sex. ALL types of sex.
Something that’s not really spoken about is anal sex. Up the butt. For some reason many teenagers think this is the way to stay abstinent/virginal? Dumbasses. Many believe that you don’t need a condom during anal sex, but you do. If you don’t really know your partner, there could still be STI contraction. But also, semen wasn’t designed to go up the butt, you know? The mixing of butt stuff and semen could lead to infection. Also, anything up the butt (not just a penis, I don’t know what you guys are into) could lead to tearing of the tissues in the anus, so lots of lube is always required for butt stuff. NOTE: Do NOT use anything other than lubricant as lubricant. Things like Vaseline or lotions make condoms less effective and were not designed for sexual purposes. STIs can also be contracted from oral sex. If you don’t really trust trust your partner, use some form of protection. If it’s a girl, consider using your fingers instead. If it’s a guy, use a condom instead. Flavored condoms were made specifically for that purpose. Be safe my friends.

TRUE – The first time hurts.
Maybe not for guys, but for ladies. To be honest, the first time kind of feels like having sand paper rubbed all up in your lady bit. After a while, the natural function of your lady bit will make you wet and ease things up, but yes, the first few times will come with a pinch. (It gets better.)

FALSE – One-night Stands are shameful and put you on slut status.
WHAT DID I SAY EARLIER? THERE WILL BE NO SLUT SHAMING. There is absolutely nothing wrong with sleeping with someone one time and not having anything to do with them later. Sure it doesn’t sound pretty, but there’s nothing wrong with it, okay? Sex is a natural thing. Sometimes you just need it. And if you don’t want to wait a couple months or a couple years to find Mr/Ms Right, then find some decent looking stranger that wants to bang you and have a completely protected night of fun. I see nothing shameful in it, as long as it takes place between two (or more, I don’t know how you get down) consenting parties.

TRUE – Abstinence is the only fool-proof method.
No one wants to contract an STI or have an unwanted pregnancy. There is no 100% method that will prevent either. Yes, condoms are only 98% effective. When you think that it means that they’re 2% ineffective, you could feel panic. But know that many, many, many people use condoms all the time and have been using them for years, and it hasn’t been a problem for most. If you’re really scared of pregnancy, consider combining condoms with a spermicide, or the birth-control pill. (NOTE: Avoid condoms with built-in spermicide because they’re less effective.) If absolutely worse comes to worse, there is the morning-after pill, but it’s very expensive (in the ballpark of $50-60) and should ONLY be used as an absolute last resort. It is by no means okay to use as a regular form of contraception because it f*cks up your hormones for like a month. There are also female condoms, etc etc. There are also tube-tying and tube-cutting, and vasectomies, but the primary target of this post is teenagers so I don’t think anyone will be needing those soon. Remember: Wrap it before you tap it.

FALSE – Crazy sex positions are demeaning and glorified by the porn industries.
There are a lot of moves such as facials, doggy-style, anal, etc that many claim to be for purely male pleasure and are meant to be unemotional — and degrading to the receiving partner. Newsflash: Some women take great pleasure from anal sex. And doggy-style (it just feels different). And all those other moves. Like I said earlier, as long as you’re COMFORTABLE and you CONSENT to the actions, then it’s okay. If anything makes you feel uncomfortable, tell your partner right away. I read once in an article (by this great sex therapist) that if you have to actively think “Is this degrading? Should I be offended by this move/act?” then it probably isn’t. Don’t think so hard about these kinds of things that it takes away from the fun of the moment. As long as you’re comfortable, don’t be afraid to give something a try worrying about being politically correct. Because everyone wants to be politically correct in bed, obviously.

FALSE – Premarital sex is wrong and sinful.
I come from a very Catholic family. I get this a lot. But you know what? Jesus isn’t always right. Sex feels awesome. There’s no shame in wanting to feel physical pleasure with someone you like. It will not damn you or prevent any sort of future happiness or get you pregnant and ruin your life (if you take all the necessary precautions). It’s a natural act that I believe everyone should experience.

TRUE – Sex is good for you.
All the studies prove it. Sex releases chemicals in the brain that de-stress and ease the body. Men with heart problems show signs of perfectly normal health the moments directly after sex. If you do it vigorously enough (for lack of a better adjective, oh baby), it’s a great form of exercise. Sex is fun, it’s pretty great, I don’t know what else to say.

It’s kind of late and I can’t really think of anything else, but I hope I can help someone somewhere. I hope I can answer any questions about sex that weren’t here (which is a lot).

When I have a child I should just show them this post to prevent an awkward sex talk. Or show them this… I should be an FLE teacher. I may not know exactly what a blastocyst is (the only ‘medical’ term I remember from FLE because it sounds like a Pokemon), and I may laugh at the word “testicles”, but I’d speak openly and honestly to my students.

The bottom line: As long as you’re comfortable, and as long as you’re not being pressured, don’t worry about your family’s or society’s beliefs. Do what you feel is right when you feel it’s right. As long as you believe you’re ready and you genuinely want to, then go for it.

I said a bang, bang, bangity bang I said a bang bang bangity bang.


“Waiting for your call I’m sick
Call I’m angry
Call I’m desperate for your voice.”

— Secondhand Serenade, Your Call

In my AP Lit class senior year, we read Waiting For Godot by Samuel Beckett. It’s about two (homosexual) men that spend every day waiting under a tree for Godot (water, God, etc.). At the end of the unit, our essay question was this:

Why do we wait for things?

I knew my answer pretty quickly. We wait because we think that whatever we think we’re waiting for is worth it. Why do we wait for a pizza to come when there’s soup in the fridge? Because we like pizza better. Why do we wait anxiously by the door when we know our friends are coming over? Because we like hanging out with our friends and we want to see them. Why do we wait in line at the DMV? Because the freedom of driving ourselves around beats waiting for our parents to get ready to take us somewhere 10 minutes away.

In my opinion, we wait because we want what’s coming. Not even that we want it necessarily, but sometimes we just need it. Why do people wait anxiously for the results of a cancer or HIV screening? Because they need to know the answer. They need to know what’s next.

Well that was a pretty long prologue, but I think you get the idea. Now for the real topic of this post:

Long-distance relationships.

Cue eye-rolling and muffled sighs of exasperation and defeat. Many things come to mind when they hear this phrase. Heartbreak, imminent doom, high percentage of failure, etc etc. So in conclusion: not good.

Psychology has provided reasons why. Though I could go over several, the one I will discuss is proximity. People tend to like people they see more often. Say X sits next to Y in class, while Z sits on the other side of the room. X and Z may be more fundamentally compatible, but X has a higher chance of falling for Y because they sit closer and spend more time together (and providing Y also has an admirable personality and several common interests with X). That may not be the most perfect example, but you get the idea.

If you love something set it free. If it comes back, it’s yours to keep. If not, it was never meant to be.

This is a quote I see SO DAMN MUCH describing long-distance relationships. Let’s discuss.

I’m not quite sure what the quote means by “set it free”. Is it implying that couples in long-distance should be in “open” relationships compared to seeing each other exclusively? Or does it mean have faith? And what does it mean by “comes back”? Does that mean the person comes back untarnished by society exactly the way you parted? I’ll assume the “not” implies that it just plain didn’t work out.

The point I was trying to make with that is this: relationships are complicated.

Pardon my lack of intricacy and craft in that statement, but it’s true. Let me just skip to my personal story / reason why I’m writing this post.

I’ve been in a relationship with my sugar pie for 2 years, 4 months, and 4 days as of today. All my friends think it’s luck, and I agree. High school relationships weren’t meant to last this long.


Me and my honey bunny.

In a little over a month, we’ll be going to colleges that are 4 hours apart. I’m not okay with it. The reason I chose now to write this post is because I’ve been getting a taste of what it’ll be like.

He’s been out of the state for the past 3 weeks. He’s super busy and there’s poor cell service out there. I haven’t talked to him much, and it sucks. Not gonna lie; I hate it, and it does hurt. I just want to talk to him and tell him about my day and see him and ask him what he’s been up to and all that couple-y janks. When we part, I’m only 50% sure things will be okay.

There are too many “if”‘s in long-distance. What if we get tired of waiting to see each other? What if we meet other people? What if the emotional strain takes too great a toll?

Do I want it to work out? Or course. If it fails, I’ll feel like these past 2+ years were in vain. Do I think it will work out? No clue.

Here’s why I haven’t broken up with that baby-faced cutie pie yet:

Hope. And a lot of faith.

My family is from the Philippines. Not everyone can get a VISA at the same time, so boyfriends and girlfriends get left behind here and there. But so far, it’s always worked out. Literally, always. All my cousins and aunts and uncles that had someone waiting for them somewhere else, they’ve come back together and married / made it work out. All of them. Same goes to my military family with partners stationed in different countries. They always find their way back to each other.

If family members of mine can stand living halfway around the world from each other for years, then why can’t I? Especially since I’ll be home at least once a month…

I’m not trying to discourage anyone at all. If you love your boo and you want to give long-distance a try, then do yo thang! (#nadinegetsghetto). If you believe you have the emotional stability and trust, then by all means. If it doesn’t work, you can’t say you didn’t try. Humans love to gamble. That’s pretty much what this is *cue game show host voice* — Come on down and play Long-Distance Relationship! Can YOU beat the odds?

Am I being optimistic? Hell yeah. A big part of me is screaming that it won’t work, but there’s another part of me that tells me I love him. In the end, who knows? All I know right now is that I won’t give up, and that in the end I won’t regret a thing.

When it comes down to it, it’s all about who you’re waiting for.

Drum Roll, Please

“I hope Tech-sempai notices me…” she whispers over and over for 3 months. April comes, letters come out. Frantic, she pulls her laptop out and clicks the bookmarked link containing the ticket to her future. “Calm down,” her boyfriend reassures her, “Of course you know what it’s going to say.” And she did. And when it loaded she knew for sure, and for a moment everything and everyone in life was beautiful.



College Post #1

This fall I’m attending Virginia Polytechnic Institute and State University as a psychology major. It was my first choice: big, beautiful, great academics, the best food. What isn’t there to love?

I officially accepted their offer today, and officially declined the other schools I was accepted into. Though Virginia Tech is my first choice, and the school I’ve dreamed of going to for the past four years, it was a lot harder to hit those “Decline” buttons than I thought. Suddenly it was like, Hey, you’re trapped. This is it, this is your future.

There was a lot more emotional conflict then I thought there would be in this. I even had to make a list.

Reasons to go:

  • Great educational opportunity
  • Great life opportunity
  • Get the freedom I’ve been craving my entire life
  • Meet new people, make new friends
  • Grow as an individual and learn to truly be on my own

Reasons to stay (go to the school near by):

  • Won’t have to learn to do laundry
  • Won’t blow hundreds and thousands of your parent’s money
  • Won’t have to worry about maintaining a long-distance relationship (which I’ll write about later)
  • Won’t break your parents’ hearts
  • Won’t have to worry about too much change in too short time
  • Won’t risk spiraling into depression being all on your own

Pretty evenly matched.

Well I’m definitely going. There’s no turning back at this point. And I’m terrified. I haven’t told anyone, but I’m a nervous wreck. Truth is, none of my friends are going to Virginia Tech. When I go, it’ll be just me. It’ll be like I’m an immigrant sailing to America by myself, except I speak English and will only be a couple of hours away.

I was so panicked I almost accepted the offer of the school near my house. I was so freaked out I was hysteric.

It was a week ago. I was on the phone with my boyfriend panicking that I would be all alone and scared and what if I had another panic attack or what if my mom did or what if no one liked me or what if I got lost or or or… He hung up. And showed up at my house 10 minutes later. At 9 pm. We walked to the playground near my house and sat on the swings, and had a really long talk. He told me to go. He told me to stop thinking about everyone and think about what I want and what would be best for me. He said the best thing would be for me to go.

Four years ago my best friend would always say “Four more years, four more years…” Let’s just say he’s more enthusiastic about college than I am. Well, it’s been four years. It’s been a really good four years, where I made real friends for the first time in my life, built a self-esteem, built a successful academic profile, fell in love, and transformed into a person that I love.

The same friend talked about how life is about the choices we make. Well, my choice is to be a Hokie in the fall. My choice is to be brave for the first time in my life and take this risk I’m only 51% sure I’m willing to take. My choice is to enter college one person and challenge myself to come out stronger than I am right now.

And when push comes to shove, I won’t regret a thing.

Feels Like I’m Living A Teenage Dream.

My two year anniversary was yesterday! My boyfriend and I started dating in sophomore year and now we’re seniors. Yesterday was lovely, and it made me want to write.

A common argument is this: Teenagers can’t experience “real” love, just overwhelming and misinterpreted heated passion.

I happen to disagree.

First let’s discuss what “love” means. (My definition anyways.)

Love is a feeling you get when you think the world of someone. Their happiness is your happiness and you only want the best for them. You put your full trust and loyalty on them. You want to share things with them and be a part of their world like they’re a part of yours. It’s when you think someone’s amazing and you can’t imagine your life without them.

Here's the "professional" definition.

Here’s the “professional” definition for reference. Which also helps my argument.

The most important point I have to make for this argument: Love is an emotion. Just like happiness, sadness, fear, anger, etc. etc. Yes it can come and go, but that doesn’t mean it wasn’t real and it doesn’t mean it never happened.

Are there some people just overcome with passion and hormones? Absolutely. Does that only happen to teenagers? Nope. Just look at the divorce rate for America (cough 50% cough). Most of those people likely felt love at some point (obviously), and it just melted away. But that doesn’t mean the relationship was insincere.

My aunt and uncle met when they were 12. Started dating at 14. They married when they were 26. And they’ve been living happily ever after ever since.

My parents met when they were 5. Started dating at 25. Married at 30.

Like people, relationships come in different shapes, sizes, colors, you name it.

So right now, I dare to say that I love this boy. I think the world of him and he feels the same for me. He’s the one I can sit with in complete silence and not feel awkward, and the one I stay up with late at night on the phone talking about nothing at all. Sounds like love to me. Feels like love to me. College is coming, and I don’t know what that means for us. It could mean catastrophe, it could not. But I know that in this moment we love each other, and that’s enough for me.

A Day In the Life.

Wish you would step back from that ledge my friend.
You could cut ties with all the lies that you’ve been living with.
If you never want to see me again, I would understand.

(Jumper by Third Blind Eye)

I spent half of today crying. I couldn’t focus on my school work and had to stay in my counselor’s office for a long time. But I’ll start from the beginning.

I walked in to my anatomy class dreading a test. I sit down, and my friends look at me and ask “How’s your friend [let’s call him “B”] been doing?” My heart stops.

Some background: B is one of my best friends. B lives in the most religious household I’ve ever encountered in my entire life. B is gay. B is home-schooled because his parents think the school made him gay. B is verbally abused every day. B has tried to kill himself three times.

“No,” I replied, scared of what they were about to say. I’ve been trying to text him for weeks but he hasn’t replied. I assumed his parents took his phone away. Again. They gave each other a really solemn and hesitant look.

After a while, one of them finally says it. “B is in the intensive care unit at the hospital. He tried to commit suicide.”

She didn’t even have to finish her sentence before I burst into tears. It’s been so long since I talked to him, I was worried this would happen again.

The gruesome background: B cuts himself. He has those horizontal bumpy slashes all along his wrists. He’s tried to jump off the bleachers at school. He wouldn’t even tell me what he did his first two attempts, and honestly I don’t want to know. I won’t even say how he did it this time, because it’s just too much.

I lost it. I stayed with my counselor for a long time. When his parents filed to pull him from school, she was one of the faculty members that tried to convince them otherwise. I told her what happened, and she said she knew. Apparently the administrators still get updates on him (which calms me, but barely).

More background: B always smiles. Always. I swear on my life I’ve never seem him with a less than pleasant expression on his face. And he’s the most talented person I know. He taught himself sign language, piano, Japanese, and Korean. He writes songs. He sings. I guess you have that kind of free time when you’re home-schooled.

His laugh brightens hearts, which matches his eyes that sparkle. He’s the sweetest and most remarkable person I know.

I love him to pieces, I do. And as angry as I am, I’ll never be able to blame him for what he did. I can’t imagine what kind of turmoil he lives with every day, and he just keeps smiling. Smiling. He had plans to become fluent in Korean, move to Korea and start a new life there after college. He had such optimistic plans. And he keeps trying to throw it all away.

My heart is breaking because this is his fourth attempt. That tells me that he won’t stop trying until he succeeds. If B has failed at anything, it’s quitting.

This isn’t a post about religion or homosexuality. It’s about a friend that’s falling apart. It’s about someone that’s miserable, who needs help. And I don’t know what to do. But I’m desperate, and so is he.

Everybody’s got to find a reason,
Everyone’s got to face down the demons,
Maybe today you can put the past away.