Jealousy and Doubt.

I don't know what I'm doing wrong.

I told Keith that I love him earlier today. He said, "I love you too. Probably too much." Which is completely out of character.

Well, he was acting weird today and he finally told me what was wrong.

He said, "Sometimes the jealousy and the doubt get to me."

He hasn't told me he loves me since then. I'm not going to say it until he does. I don't wanna' make anything worse.

I also have no idea what to say to him, and the silence is unbearable.

What am I doing wrong?

I don't wanna' tell him that it upsets me and that I'm so sorry for whatever makes him feel that way. I mean, I truly am sorry. I just want everything to be okay.

I think it may be because on one of the social networking sites we use, I'm a 'featured' person and so I have a lot more guys looking at my profile.

Is it that? Really? Could that be it?

UPDATE: Literally after I published this post he said, "I love you so much." I feel like a schoolgirl.

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Mess Up, Fess Up: Three.

I had a coca-cola and a mt.dew last night.

Why? Because I didn't feel like 'saying no'.

Doesn't feel worth it anymore.

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Mess Up, Fess Up: Two.

It figures that my second time of messing up would come the day after my third week of no-smoking and no-caffeine/soda/only water, juice and smoothies.

I had a soda from Arby's and a some meat in one of the meals.

My uncle didn't know that I was a vegetarian now. He got me that meal, and I couldn't not eat it. I'd feel horrible.

Tomorrow is a new day. My no-caffeine/soda thing starts again tomorrow. I'm back to day one there.

It's not too bad though. I'm on week three +1 day of no smoking! Go me!

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Hospitalized.

My grandfather fell this morning at 3:30 or so. He hit his head on his nightstand. My mother yelled at me to come in there.

There was a splatter of blood on the floor, and his head was bleeding quite a bit.

His glasses had been knocked off when he fell. That sorta' symbolized something to me. Earlier, not 30 minutes prior, he had told my mother to be careful not to knock off his glasses or to drop him. I hope that makes sense.

She called Hospice and I called my father.

He was pale and his whole body was shaking. He was slurring his words.

When my father got there he just held him.

I walked out of the room for a bit and when I walked back in I said, "You shouldn't let him sleep." My father said, "I think he's going to do a lot more than sleep." I told him, "No, I give him at least two days."

My mother called Hospice and asked if they should take him to the hospital or not. My mother told the nurse on call that it looked like he'd need stitches.

Then my mother called back a few minutes later and asked if it would be alright to call an ambulance. They said yes.

So, she did.

I pulled my fathers truck into the yard, next to the front door. I did well, I think.

They took their time. I sarcastically said, "This is the fastest I've ever seen anyone move for an emergency." They were going so slow.

It annoyed me. I felt like they were letting his time slip away. Almost like they didn't care. I was bothered by it. He was just sitting in his wheelchair next to his chair in the living room. He was sorta' slumped over to the right. He didn't look like himself.

No one put his glasses back on him. I'm not sure why.

They left and I sat in the living room and cried. It had been a long day already. I had left once. Just walked to the other house, grabbed a bag of my stuff and left off, walking.

My father caught up to me and had me go to my grandfathers with my mother, so we could talk.

We didn't talk. We watched HGTV. I ate a bit.

Then it all started.

After I was done crying, I went to bed.

I woke up a few times. It was a long night.

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Papaw JB

We thought he was going to die last night.

He was curled up, pale almost grey, his muscles were all rigid, he cried. It hurt him to be touched. He was afraid to sleep, he was afraid he'd die in his sleep.

I cried a bit, just a few tears.

I'm staying there tonight (again). Everything is on hold.

I don't know what to do or say anymore...

And my three cousins (17, 13 and 4) have the flu. Their father might have it. My father is being a jackass and refuses to sit more than 2 hours with his father (my grandfather).

Keith and I have been drifting apart a bit. It's because I spend so much time with my family. I think he understands. But I feel horrible. Today is his birthday. Wait. Or is it the 16th? Sh*t.

That's all for now, I guess.

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Why me?

My laptop has a virus.

Great. Just fantastic.

I have no clue how to fix it.

It's the one where my google searches redirect to weird websites. It's disgusting. Some of them have 'porn-esque' names. I never stick around to find out. Others are about like Punjabi and all. Weird.

So, I am getting really annoyed. I've tried two different programs. One of them keeps freezing as it's time to remove the damn thing (not good). The other doesn't get everything apparently (damn).

Now what?

I have no idea.

I guess I just have to keep trying.

Any advice from the maybe 2 readers I have?

Oh, and on top of that, I just found out that my horse has a huge gash on her back left leg. It is literally 5 inches long and at least 2 inches deep. It's disgusting. It's all swollen and has pus oozing out of it.

This is what I get for having a 'semi-feral' horse, isn't it? I don't know she has an injury until she decides to waltz over and I get a glimpse.

Today is not my day...

Highlight of my day: My father was joking with my grandfather (he's 85/6 and terminally ill--not all there) and told him that my mother was mean and hit him. My grandfather said, "I don't want that bi**h to get mad at me." We couldn't stop laughing. My mother was in the kitchen and didn't hear it. It was hillarious.

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Security Makes Me Gag

I had a dream last night that I was "working" at a mall filling in for a friend in the security department. I was wearing this really cute uniform. It was weird though.

The 'stockings' were over the heels and it was almost like a full body stocking to go under the clothes, but not attached in one piece. It was a skirt suit type outfit with a hat, except the jacket had short sleeves and the shirt was really a leotard with long sleeves. Really weird to explain, but really, really cute.

Anyway.

There was a criminal that came in and instead of using my weapon against him I talked to him (cause I'm not huge on shooting someone). Management saw this and decided to hire me. Apparently everyone else had a "shoot now, ask questions later" attituded.

I was happy and all. I really got to show off my uniform then (technically I wasn't supposed to be wearing one while I was filling in but I looked damn sexy in it).

So, I finished my day at work and went home.

I had a step-sister in my dream (I only have a younger brother). I walked in and she was gagging herself, trying to make herself vomit.

I walked in nonchalantly and said to her, "There really is no point in doing that."

She said, "What would you know?"

Then I told her, "I would know that you're just going to f**k yourself up. I used to have a eating disorder. If you're going to do anything you should probably just eat raw. You have a better chance of losing weight and you can actually eat and really be healthy."

It was the first time in my dreams that I actually admitted my eating disorder to someone who wasn't screaming at me. I felt so much better after that. I've been really struggling lately.

I guess it's okay, I had had my eating disorder from the time I was 8 or so until I was 19--though I still have a few rough days. Over half of my life has been spent feeling like I'm worthless, fat and hideous. So, to feel free to give advice in my dream to someone that wasn't hurting them seemed like some sort of mental improvement to me.

All in all, it was a good dream. I think I learned something. I'm not sure what yet. But I feel it.

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