There are a lot of people that believe that it is now time for me to "get over" my mothers death. She passed away when I was very young. I know it was such a long time ago. But for the longest time I just ran. I did not reflect. I did not live. I just ran deeper and deeper inside of myself. I wrote endless short stories and novels. I just buried my world into fantasy. I wasn't able to come out of that world until I met the first man that would ever look me in the eyes and tell me that he loved me. 

I know that it is wrong to hang on to old memories for too long. I know that I should not dwell, because doing so won't help me with my personal growth. 

I did grow since I last wrote here. I had many experiences. I almost done with undergrad but it doesn't make missing my mother any less painful. I need her more than ever right now, especially now that I am about to step into the "real world" and attempt to become an independent young woman.

There is no one who I associate with who can understand this emptiness that I feel. 

When it was time to go back to school and the students were moving back on campus many of the mothers and fathers were eager to help their children get settled. You should have seen the joy in their eyes. Maybe the student didn't notice, but I did. I always notice things like that and so much more. Like the way a mother holds her childs' hand. The way a father affectionately warns his daughter about the danger of college boys. Yeah, I notice it all. I just stand on the outside and watch from a distance. Then I carry yet another heavy bag up into my room. Where I can close the door and shut the rest of the world out. Not connecting with anyone, because I know they won't understand.

I have tried to explain countless time about how I feel and why I feel the way I do. But after awhile I just stopped talking. I am aware that my aunts and my uncle don't know how to "deal" with me because they have never experienced death that young and that close to them before. Their sister (my mother) was barely 28 when she passed.

I thought that after so much time had passed that I would finally grow stronger from her absence. I am not always sad. I do not always miss her. But I describe it as a cycle. I have drift in and out of having good and bad days. Some days are better than others. But I never have days when I am completely just okay. But I do have days when I am majorly depressed.

Then it builds. The fact that I can't seem to keep a stable relationship to save my life. The fact that every time I get close to a guy he always hurts me or exists my life in a painful way. And in most of these cases they never even consider wanting to be friends. I keep a distance from everyone because it has always been the pattern that if I get too close to anyone they will hurt me and exit my life. I know that i get attached rather quickly. I know that I have a big heart. I guess, I just care and love all the wrong people at all the wrong times in my life.

You would think that with being at college I would meet a couple of people that can understand, but I have yet to meet those people. It is not to say that they are not on this campus though. I even decided that I needed to see a therapist just to make sure that I was doing all right and headed on the right track. But even with that, I found a hollow attempt to cure my emptiness. Anytime I talk about my mother tears come into my eyes. I feel so lonely without her. I feel like there is no one on this planet that understands me. I feel like I'm the black sheep. The intruder. I just don't belong anywhere. 

I thought by jumping into romantic relationship(s) that would somehow "fix" me but it only helped temporarily. They only "cared" about me for as long as the magical lasted. But once they saw that I was human. That I cry when I am hurt. That I get upset. That I get confused. They ran away. Some left without saying goodbye. They just disappeared. Others said goodbye in the most cruelest of ways. And none of it mattered. All I could do was pick myself back up and keep dragging my feet with the hope that someone would notice me one day. Anyone would notice. I carry around this big heart. I often think "what for?" I love too much. And I seem to bare the pain of the entire world. 

I'm not allowed to connect to anyone, because if I do they will disappear. So I keep people at a distance just enough for me to know their name but never close enough for me to form a bond of any kind. I don't remember being this way. I was a content child. And I was very loving. But now it just seems like this big heart of mine is a weight attached to me. I can't use it because people runaway when I show them just how much love I have. And I can't erase it or cut it out because it is apart of who I am.