Save My Life

She's back on drugs again
Even though she knows it ain't right
She can't even call up her friends
And say "help me save my life"
She's so ashamed of herself that she's come full circle
Nobody understands what it's like to
Be this girl
So she disappeared, and she
Wasn't clear, and she
Didn't say where she was going

Save my life, won't you help me
Save my life, won't you help me
Save my life, won't you hear me
Save my life, won't you help me

She had the man of her dreams
And some success
And she was so happy, and looking well
It was this one dark night, that she
Slipped
And then the next morning that she
Felt like a piece of shit
So she's hanging out, and she's
With the crowd, and she's
Travelin' where the wind is blowing

Save my life, won't you help me
Save my life, won't you help me
Save my life, won't you hear me
Save my life, won't you help me

And he's a real good guy and he
Wants to save her 'cause he's
More than been there all before
And she's so confused and his heart is breaking and he
Dreams she's knocking on his door

Save my life, won't you help me
Save my life, won't you help me
Save my life, won't you hear me
Save my life, won't you help me



Now, if you know me at all, you know that I have never had a "drug problem". But for three years, "HE", was my drug. I don't know what to do without him most days. I wish he would stop playing in my head, in my dreams, but I don't know what to do to delete him from my every day life. Just when I think I am getting on with my life, a night like tonight comes along where I question every decision I've made the last 10 months.
I can't believe Pete's been gone for almost a year. I remember the night I heard things had taken a turn for the worse, and that he wasn't expected to live another week. How could I have known it would only be another few hours? If I had known that, I would have made every effort to get to him and to tell him thank you for being the father I didn't have during that time.
I think about Pete and Nick often at the same time, I guess, because they passed so close to one another (within three months of one another).
It pisses me off more than you can ever know that I have seen SO many people FIGHT with all of their being to LIVE, and he gave up "just like that". What the hell gave him the right? How DARE he leave those of us that cared about him more he ever knew?
I see a dark blue Dodge truck, or a dark green Explorer and I see him. I don't want to. I don't want to see him, I don't want to think about him, but he finds someway to get in "there", and I don't know how to stop him.

If I didn't have bad luck

I'd have no luck at all. Seriously.

I got home from work last night and saw that Bear chewed his way through the carpet and pad to the sub-floor. It's about a three by two inch rectangle, the exact shape of the cross bars of his crate. Little shit. I don't know what I am going to do with him. He's getting worse with age instead of better.

Then, I was on my way to dinner when I got a flat tire. Fortunately, there were three guys with me so they changed the tire. If they hadn't been with me, I would have had to wait who knows how long for either my insurance, OnStar, or the dealership to send someone to change it for me. Yes, I can change a tire, but I have three different services available to do it for me for FREE. I'd be a fool not to use one of them! After researching the cost of a replacement tire, I can't believe I am going to have to shell out over $150 for this stupid little tire. I struck a MAJOR deal on the 32 inch tires I used on my Jeep and got them for $65 each, and they lasted forever! But whatever, good thing I have that Firestone credit card.

I got a VERY tempting invitation for this weekend, but I am going to have to pass on it because I really can't think of anything better than just staying home with the kids and being L.A.Z.Y.

No more dreams, please.

I've been dreaming about Nick every night for about the past week. I wake up in tears and unable to breathe. The one last night was especially hard to wake up from. I keep dreaming that he's not dead. That he faked his death to get out of some kind of trouble or something.
He came to my apartment in the middle of the night and we sat up for hours just talking, him crying, me wiping away his tears like I used to do when he'd cry, which wasn't very often, and like he'd do when I cried. Then he left my apartment to take some little girl home (no idea about that, it was totally random) and I went to find him after a few minutes but couldn't. I woke up saying his name and crying. I keep thinking that he ISN'T dead, that it was NOT him in that casket. I know it's easy to slip into denial when you don't have the closure of a funeral, or even a memorial service, but I SAW HIM in the casket, I saw them CLOSE the casket after we all said goodbye, after I kissed him for the last time. Why am I still fighting to accept that he's gone? Why can't I move on?

Tagged

1. I spend more money on one roll of paper towels than I do on 4 rolls of toilet paper. VIVA!

2. My favorite food in the whole entire world is spinach.

3. I buy each dog at least one toy when I go to Wal-Mart or Target.

4. I talk to my dogs as though they are people. My neighbors think I am nuts, but are amazed at how well behaved the kids are, especially Chelsea.

5. I have had a total of 10 surgeries: 3 eye, 3 ankle, tonsilectomy, LEEP, 2 laparoscopies.

6. I despise mayonnaise, sour cream, cottage cheese, plain yogurt, butter and cream cheese (unless it has jalapeno jelly on it)

7. Most women see their GYN maybe twice a year. I saw mine eight times in 2006, and have already seen him three times in 2007.

8. I know at least three ways to get just about anywhere in Houston. I have a great sense of direction, and never get lost.

9. I have had the same best friend since I was 12.

10. I want to run a dog rescue/training center someday.

TGIF

It's been a shitty week. I really thought that if I could get over March 9th, that I'd start getting better. I stayed home sick Friday, slept most of the day. When I wasn't sleeping, my thoughts were consumed with Nick. Of memories, of regrets, of the fact that I really don't know how I will ever possibly love anyone that much ever again. Last weekend I really didn't do much. Slept a lot, bathed the dogs, washed the car on Saturday. Slept a lot, did laundry, watched SATC and groomed Chelsea and Toby (a friend's dog) on Sunday. Monday was a doozie. I had a major breakdown Monday night. Like, crying so hard I had to pull off the road. Thank God for Meredith. I don't know that I would have made it home without her talking me through it. I said a lot of things that I didn't mean that night. I'm noticing more and more that I do that when I get frustrated and angry, and I know that I have got to stop. I know I do. The rest of the week hasn't been much better. I just feel, for lack of a better word, BLAH. I don't get excited about anything really. Most of the things I do after work and on the weekends, I only do because I feel like they are expected of me. Honestly, I would rather just stay home and hang out with Chelsea and Bear, read, watch TV, just "be". This week was week three of the Lexapro. I think it's pretty obvious this is not the drug for me. I go in Monday for a med check and I am sure Korman will know just by looking at me. He just has that ability.
So, tonight I was actually "okay". I was going to meet an old friend for a quiet dinner and talked to my mother on the way to meet Amy. First she's bitching at me to change the call back tone on my phone (my thoughts-you don't like it, don't call), then she starts giving me a hard time because I hadn't committed to going sailing. I have things I have to get done around the house, you know, like normal people do on the weekends? But see, she's had a maid for, oh, I guess the last 30 something years. If it wasn't my sister or me, it was someone else. Just not her. She thinks that everyone should just be able to go and do as she does. There's a reason her boat is named "Planet Janet". She literally lives on her own planet, and thinks everyone else's lives should revolve around hers. So, she gets pissed off at me because I really wasn't in the mood to be given a hard time about ANYTHING, and spouts off some shit like, "Well, you just have a bad attitude, so..." That's when I hung up the phone. Now, I don't usually hang up on people, but I knew EXACTLY how she was going to finish that sentence. Something along the lines of, "...I'm just going to let you go." Well, I beat her to it. I'm just so sick of her lack of empathy. She has made no effort at trying to understand why I am the way I am right now. I really think that she thinks I should be over it already. That life should be back to normal, whatever normal is or was, and that I should be done grieving and that I have no right to still be upset. How do I make her understand? And that's a rhetorical question, because I know that's impossible.
And people wonder WHY I've secluded myself and limit what, where and who I spend time with.
Well, enough rambling. Just had to vent, I suppose.

32 years ago

Nakia "Nick" Elathey Joseph Ware was born.

Happy birthday, love of my life. You are in my constant thoughts, and will always occupy a huge part of my heart and soul. I only wish you could have seen how special you were to everyone that knew you. You touched so many people's lives with your smile, and the kind things you always did for everyone. You are so missed. By me, by your mom, your mahmah, Krystal, Micheal. Everyone.

I miss your guts. I sure wish we could find that keychain from three years ago.

I love you. Always and forever.

The story behind the saying...

A couple of people have asked where the whole "I love your guts" thing came from.

When I was still living in Lake Charles with my sister and her family, we were watching While You Were Out and the girl that they surprised told her husband/boyfriend, "I love your guts even more!". Well, we got such a kick out of it that we started telling my nieces, "I love your guts!". And they thought it was hilarious. Then I expanded it to, "I love your guts and your brains and your bones and your skin". Pretty much everything about a person that could be loved!

He's everywhere.

When I am in Lake Charles, there are memories of him every where I go. They don't usually hit me as hard as they did today.

He's at the Microtel, walking across the parking lot to his truck, which was the last time I saw him. The Microtel was also where we made love for the first time.

He's at Bennigan's, sitting at our table on the bayou, drinking a margarita on the rocks.

He's at the Civic Center, where we saw our first Pat Green concert together, and where we had a picnic on what was probably one of the windiest days EVER. We had to take turns eating and holding the other's stuff down.

He's at the boat launch, our quiet place to talk and just "be".

He's at America's Best Inn and Suites, our second choice hotel in Lake Charles.

He's at Johhny Carino's, his favorite place to eat.

He's in the parking garage at the hospital where we left his truck the first time he came to stay with me, which was also the weekend of our first date, and our first kiss. He's hugging me and kissing me trying to stop my tears. I knew he was special to me even after that very first date.

He's at the mall. That boy loved to shop.

He's at my grandparent's house, in the garage where we sat and talked for hours one night.

He's at my cousin's house, where we stayed one night, and where he brought me roses for the very first time. That was also the night I made him my famous lasagna, which turned out to be his most favorite thing ever.

He's everywhere.

How dare he leave me with this.

I am so angry at him right now that I can't even see straight. There are a handful of songs that I can listen to that cause me to "lose it". Three of them were played tonight. Even when I try to think of the wonderful things that could be happening in my life, my thoughts turn to him, and I am angry and bitter. And I cling to "things" (read: people) that aren't really mine to cling to.

I never thought I could love someone so much. But was that because I thought he needed saving? He very obviously did, I just wasn't the one that could save him. I guess no one could. I do have that problem. With thinking that everyone needs to be saved, and that I am the one who can save them. I wonder what I have to do to save myself?

Am I ever going to be capable of a healthy relationship now? I know that men who know what's happened in the last few months are going to be hesitant to have anything to do with me. I don't blame them one bit. I don't.

A mani and a pedi later...

and all is right with the world. Or something.
I shouldn't have splurged on myself like that, but I deserved it, DAMN IT!
I have Big Apple Red fingers and toes. Nick's favorite. So that's a little strange. I haven't had red toes since the last time I saw him at the end of July...
They do make me happy, though.