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It's so cold right now, and I have to go work in the morning. Did I mention I still need to get my clothes together? Anyways, there's several things I wanted to mumble about here. First of all... today, it will be a year that Aunt Mary passed away. I miss her, and there isn't a family gathering that we've had that I haven't missed her presence. I hope I said that right. It seems like there are moments in time that should be for her scolding, or her laugh. I remember, my uncle came in the morning, around 8, telling us she was slipping away, and we needed to get there quick. We got there, in time for them to tell us she was already gone. I remember feeling lost, because the last time I saw her, she was doing well, her usual self. That was a week before. If I would've known that whatever they did to her heart would've resulted in this, I would've begged her to go home then. But onwards to the next topic.

Less than a day to go before Ash Wednesday, and I am trying to listen to as much music as possible before then. Giving up my favorite songs never gets any easier, which I guess is a good thing. It's impossible to avoid the music at work, but as long as I don't sing along, I don't think it will be a problem. As a matter of fact, I doubt it. Ever since they updated the music system, I get hit with the tunes of Katy Perry, Lady Gaga, and Taylor Swift at least once every day. It's a little surreal, considering the kind of ladies that shop there.

.... Nah, I don't think I'm going to do it tonight, either. My courage is still MIA, and right after I bragged on it, too. I feel a little bad, but I'm still afraid of what might be waiting for me. If anything, I feel like we're on the same ground now. We might both be looking at this screen going 'No way...'

Honestly though, it makes me wonder. Could he be just as terrified as me when it comes to this sort of thing? No no, I can't imagine him being scared. Ever. Or maybe, it's possible.. A line he said sticks out in my thoughts, and I wonder, but not for long. More than likely, he's turned up his nose to me in disgust, and I've fallen from a six inch pedestal, because I wasn't worth much in the beginning anyways. Ah, my imagination is so cruel. I might be spot on, though.

It's not like he actually told me enough of anything to gauge what he was feeling. I try to remember conversations from the past to try and see if I can use them to figure it out, but I get upset and caught on the words. Say one thing, do another. It seems to me that if I was willing to talk to him, he should have been willing to talk to me. You know, make things right. I wonder how much he thinks about how often he's messed up in the past, and I'm not talking about just with me. Wouldn't you want to fix something you messed up, rather than sulk and avoid it? Is this a case of pot meeting kettle? I don't want him to ever think that whatever has happened before could be so awful that there should be no fixing it.

This is such a tangled knot of love lines. I guess it's just love lines on my side, ha. One thing is clear, though. I'm going to have to work myself up if I'm going to check that page this week. Maybe I can get myself mad over how I deserve to know for sure, that I can neutralize those feelings of fear, or at least, get past them long enough to see. It's the only thing I can think to use anger for.