shaka, when the walls fell.

Thank you for teaching me how to live. How to eat and cook well. How to live in the moment. Thank you for teaching me patience, compassion, and restraint. Thank you for teaching me to dream. Thank you for teaching me how to give massages, to dance, to laugh, to flirt. Thank you for teaching me how to be comfortable in my skin. To be happy with what I have.

Thank you for keeping me company, for keeping me warm, for keeping me cool. 

Thank you for being my home. Thank you for bringing me closer to my family and friends.

Thank you for holding my hand across the street. In the movie theatre. At the plays.

Thank you K.C.

I am who I am today because you made me this way, far better than I am worse. I won't forget you. You've taught me everything I needed and more to be the better person I want to be, and brought me one step closer to my dreams.

Knowing what you love is knowing yourself, and something that you love can serve as a guide. It’s a fixed and tangible point in the world on which you can pin your passions and hopes. You can have a relationship with cycling. You can enjoy the discipline of cycling, or the freedom; you can enjoy the physical exertion, or the convenience and relative ease. Regardless, a strong relationship based on love will take you far, and it will also improve other areas of your life. You can depend on cycling in a way you can depend on little else. And it’s always there even when it’s forced aside due to injury or circumstances. Sure, it may be more about the love than cycling, but if you’re going to love something cycling’s a good choice.

You may be wondering why it ended the way it did. It ended this way because it had to. It ended this way because I wanted you to be guilt free. I wanted you to be in the right. I took the bullet and did the worst thing I could possibly do, and it was to break your heart completely. To leave nothing left. To leave you with no good memories of me. For you to hate me. And that's how it had to be. 

And for me. I had to destroy any possibility of going home to you - by destroying our home. Simple.

I never thought that I'd get to know you as well as I did, and you really were my best friend. I knew the different shades of you. I knew your different moods. I knew your seasons.

I could walk into Safeway and pick out at least a dozen things that you loved or hated. Things you always loved to eat and things that scared you away. I could retell your stories about them. About the time in the car, the melons, the juiceboxes, everything. I could tell you how many times you'd told me these stories, and how you'd tell them to me. I could even pick out the things I thought you would like and wouldn't like. I still see the flowers I bought you on our first date.

You were my life for two years. I sat with you for hours. I studied you. I watched you. I listened. I listened to your fears and insecurities and I tried to comfort you. I've held you as you cried and as you laughed. I helped you and hurt you. I breathed your air. I told you secrets I've never told anyone as you've told me yours. I showed you how James really works, and you showed me how you really worked. I showed you who I really was and who I was afraid to be. I've stared intently, into your eyes, studying your face, wondering about what your fate would be. What our fate would be. You were perfect in so many ways, I wish only that I could have convinced you of that.

And at night, I'm haunted. Haunted by the feeling of your warmth. Haunted by the sound of your breathing. Your movement. I'm haunted by the texture of your skin. The smell of your hair. These memories haunt me. Threaten to pull me back. Unwind everything that I have done. Threaten my future and my self. And I don't know whether to hate you or not.

I didn't make a mistake in ending things the way I did. I had to do it that way. There was no other way. There's not a moment that goes by that I don't wish for different ending. But there couldn't be any other way. I would have been destroyed.

Don't get me wrong, it wasn't all bad. There were times when it was magical. When we drove back from the wedding and we were leaving your home. We said goodbye to your parents and we got into my Miata and drove home. And we were in my car, one arm on the wheel and one arm in your hands. I looked at you, and you looked happy. We played games, we teased, we flirted, we were...ourselves. It looked like like nothing could go wrong and everything was right in the world. I'll never forget the look on your face. I'll never forget how happy you were when you looked at me.

And really, for a moment, I thought it would last forever.

I wish I could say that I learned a whole lot from the experience. I wish I could say that it was fulfilling and lovely and enriching. That I am a better person today than I was yesterday. But in reality, I'm not sure that I can legitimately say any of that. On a day to day basis, it was an emotional drain, leaving my emotional tank empty. Leaving me stressed, like I had done something wrong when I was not the one to blame here.

On the other hand, it was convenient. It was nice to come home to someone time and time again. Even if the experience itself was unpleasant, I do miss the feeling of waking up next to someone and not feeling alone. But I guess when even that experience turned sour, there really no more bridges left to burn, so I left. 

My only regret is that it took so long and took me up until this point to finally pull the trigger and do everything I should have done the first, second, third time this happened. That I dragged my friends and family through this emotional turmoil. That it took a final fit of anger to finally say enough is enough...she would say to me that I'm her best friend. Which is ironic because I kinda thought of her as my best friend...for awhile. But then I realized that my own friends treated me better than she did. That I had a handful of friends who were more patient, more concerned, and more supportive than she ever was. Things that are kinda really important to me...to anyone

It takes me awhile to say to myself "it's not my fault" and "i didn't do anything wrong" to get me through the day. I didn't do anything wrong. It isn't my fault. It's kinda just the way it is. 

it's funny. at first i felt as though leaving college would mean my life would be different. but really, it isn't.

i spend a lot of time learning how to be a better programmer. at work, i write c++ and learn all sorts of things i never learned in college as a BME. i come home after 11 hours in the office and program some more, for a professor in the hopes of securing a PhD.

i thought i'd be less busy, but i've learned that complacency is not a luxury i have. i'm more busy now than i've ever been as an undergrad. i must be doing something right...

but it sure is painful as hell.

It's that fun time of year to reflect on your life and see what you've done. I've neglected blogging for awhile, and it's always a fun way to waste time while putting off actual work. I may not get a chance to touch this for awhile. Plus it makes me feel good to brag like this. 2011 was a well lived year with many many ups and many many downs. I hope your year went as well as mine.

I was my brother's Best Man.

I got on the honor's roll.

I wrote my first Ruby on Rails application.

I won a senior design competition.

I worked on projects for a professor.

I got a job out of college.

I got a job with "software engineering" in the title.

I got to live life outside of school, long enough to want to go back....then went back, and realized how much I hated being there.

I graduated!

I got to experience life outside a startup, the corporate world.

I got to work in the Biomedical Device industry.

I got my first code released and code reviewed.

I was an RA.

I got to meet people I'd never have met before.

I learned how to stop thinking about people's age.

I asked out a girl for the first time.

I went on my first date.

I had my first *real* relationship.

I fell mady in love.

I stopped being bitter, and was shown a better life.

I had my heart broken to pieces, and that better life taken away.

I stopped hating my parents, and learned to let them into my life.

I became closer to my brother. (I love you man!)

I became closer to my old roommates and friends (You guys rock!).

I learned to listen to my internal compass.

I learned how to disregard what everyone told me.

I learned to live with the consequences.

I learned to live alone.

I learned how to live with someone.

I learned how to reach out to friends.

I lost 20 pounds.

I ran 12 miles.

I got in the best shape of my life.

I learned how to shoot skeet.

I got my first car.

I learned how to drive manual.

I learned how to jump start a car (twice!).

I learned that life usually hits you in the face with some sort of car trouble.

i think the magical thing about four years (and a quarter) of college isn't necessarily the knowledge you gain or the people you meet. i mean, granted, those are what everyone cares about, and they run our lives and whatnot.

but the part that interests me in the transformation. the change in the tone. the mood. the setting. the transition from a reactive element to a proactive element. i guess what i'm getting at is this:

i woke up today and realized i can do whatever the fuck i want. i am free.

...

It's a good Thanksgiving weekend when you can drag your ass out of bed at 4:00AM on a Sunday and be productive.