Do not collect 200 dollars.

I can't express how hard it is for me to imagine a world outside the one we're in. I live an everyday life; I go to work, I come home, I go to sleep. Everyday. I live an ordinary enough life. I go to church on Sunday. I pray, I worship, I read and I try to stay awake. Just as any one else will do on the Lords day. I live at home, still, with my parents. I moved out once. To Europe. About a year out of high school I got called on my LDS mission to Europe. It didn't work out. I was sent home dishonorably. With the promise of returning if I straitened up, and acted according to standards. The only thing I want in life is to make my mother proud, so, without a second thought, I accepted the second chance. This could have possibly been the worst mistake I have ever made.

I am not happy. I do not look forward to my life nor my future. I don't want to return to my mission. I don't want to return to anything. I am so miserable. So very miserable. I live a life of melancholy, but that is normal enough.

I haven't dreamed in a very long time. Not because I am unable to, but because it hurts too much. I used to spend so much time in my thoughts, thinking about everything magical and beautiful. I loved escaping to my mind. I'd find that things were different. Things were perfect. I could be happy, free and loved. I know it sounds great, but bliss is so wrong. I don't deserve to be happy. I knew this, and the second I came to terms with it, I stopped dreaming. It is all for the best. Dreaming a beautiful dream and then returning to reality sent waves of pain across my heart forming a mark I have come to know as nothing. When I know that tomorrow is a simile to today, I move forward. I would like to say that I wish for yesterday, or a different tomorrow, but I don't wish either. Right now I just go.

I've heard that a man who is fifty that lives his life the same he did when he was thirty has spent twenty years waisted. He didn't learn anything. He didn't gain anything. He just kept living the life he always had. I do the same. I'll probably return to Europe. I'll probably die in my sleep. No. The sad thing is I won't.

My name is Bradley Johnson, and I dream of electric sheep.

The man behind the curtain.

I wasn't supposed to know it existed, after all, he never spoke of it while we were together. He always wrote in his journal, sometimes telling me that I was the subject of conversation. I never meant to find it, but I did. I stumbled across his blog. His online journal. I was looking at the profile of a mutual friend, and saw that she (possibly they... I haven't found out if they're keeping it as a couple, or if one just has guest entry's) was following. It was called "Captain Oats" or something similar. Thinking it was a reference to the Captain Oats featured on the "OC," I pondered. Looking almost immediate to the side, after noticing the dull and boring back drop, I saw picture that sent shivers down my spine. There was no mistaking it, this was his blog.

After taking a few seconds to contemplate if I should read or just go back to facebook, I start looking for my name. I didn't do it on purpose, but something inside me kept searching. I soon found that there hadn't been too many posts. I find one, fourth from the top, submitted at the end of September. Thinking back to when We broke up, I find that this was while we were still together. Looking for a more recent post, I find what I'm looking for. I had just started reading when I realize it is what I don't want to be reading. It isn't a happy memory, nor a sexy one. It is the only memory I have with him that made/makes me cry. As I continue reading, I find that this premeditated thought had been rehearsed. I find that he was forced to pretend to be enjoying my company. I find that I don't like this anymore than I used to.

My heart begins to pound as I read. Each little memory of the night coming back to me. I correct him in my head, saying things like, "I didn't say that." "That didn't happen." The point was that the story is right on, it is just told slightly different. Each letter I read brings painful sighs back. My breathing gets louder and my arms begin to pulse. He was worried about what kind of cryer I am. Not the fact that I was about to have my heart broken, but whether or not he was going to get wet from tears or have to plug his ears as I sobbed.

I force myself to keep reading, all the while thinking, "I don't want to hear this." Despite everything I've led myself to think about our relationship, I draw back to the perspective that our relationship was just fun for him. Why am I hurting so bad when he just saw it as another silly old experience.

I feel like a fool for having cried in front of him. He didn't earn that right. I should have never showed my heart to him. And although I didn't exactly say that I loved him, something along those lines sure showed as I cried in his car.

When we were together, I made a bracelet. I used the rope that I found back stage, and I tied it to my wrist. I thought it was so cool, despite the fact that it was so simple compared to the other bracelets I make. Loving it, I made him one too. I gave it to him and he said he liked it. Reading his entry, he writes about how before leaving his car as a goodbye, I removed the bracelet and stuffed it in my pocket. At the time, that was a symbol that things were over. By putting that black rope in my jacket pocket, I was letting him know how much I cared about him. I was telling him that every time I looked at my wrist, I would think of him. And when I removed it, he finally understood that. As told, the thing that went through his head was no longer guilt (as it had been the feeling after seeing me cry) but instead justification. He writes that he had never put on the bracelet. Showing that it is just another testimonial that I am not/was not that important to him.

I thought that was what separated him from Nick. I thought that he was the guy who actually took notice of me, who appreciated me. That was one of the things I loved most.

I was wrong.

Moving on.

It is finally time. I've spent too long being attached to the idea of still dating Taylor Horn. I miss him and will probably always miss him, but most every time I think about him I get sad. Therefore, I have decided to part ways with him.

I sent him a text to ask if he missed me or not. When you break up with someone you often wonder if they miss you as much as you miss them. While he says that he does in fact miss me, I'm confident that he's happy without me. Which leads me to my next point... I need to be happy without him. Yes, I have my friends. They're the real love of my life, but even as they try, they can't be the one you truly fall in love with. They're not the ones that leave smiles on your face every time you wake up. They are wonderful, but they're not that person. They will hold you when you're sad, as best friends should, but they don't hold you when you're happy, cold or just for fun.

When asked what makes me cry, I had to think about it. I hadn't cried for ages. It used to be the lack of attention that I got. The strangling situations my brothers put me through, and just other highly emotional middle-child bullshit. Now... Now it is different. Aside from movies or sad stories that leave tears in the corner of my eyes, the only thing that can get them running down my cheek is a boy. After Nick and I finally broke up, I cried for as long as I could before I had to actually get out of my car and get ready to go on stage. When Taylor and I broke up, I cried in his car, and then in my car. And then in my bed, and everyday for a week or so. Even after that, after the recovery period, I had my occasional slip. A song, an image, a thought. Anything that reminded me of him would send a signal to my brain telling me that it was time to open the flood gates.

After asking if he missed me, I had to tell him what I thought. I think that he and I aren't friends. We never were. We never will be. We never really had the opportunity before we started dating, and after. Well, after he told me that he would continue talking to me because I told him that I would feel like I lost one of my best friends if he didn't. Did he? Obviously he didn't. If he had, I would've been able to move on long before. I would have had the opportunity to see him as only a friend and nothing more. Instead, I see his name and break down.

I didn't just let this happen. I tried talking to him. Quite often for having had my heart broken. He never made an effort to return the favor. I personally don't understand how you can go from dating someone to just not talking to them at all. So quickly. It isn't like we broke up over a fight. We simply stopped dating. Against my will. If I were to work harder to be his friend, what would I find? Would I find that he is doing very well in school, that his social work dreams are coming true? or would I find that he has done poorly, so so, or dropped out of his dream completely. If that the case is that he is doing well in his field, then I would see no hope for ever being able to see him again. After all, the reason we broke up was because I wasn't the number one seller on his mind. He wanted to focus all his energy on one thing; School. That is great. I completely understand. I was supportive and I didn't fight it. He will change the world someday. He already has. But changing the world doesn't include me. However, if he is doing poorly, then I would resent him for not trying to see me again. With all his spare time, he should be able to fit me back into his life, shouldn't he? Or maybe I don't deserve that privilege.

Honestly, I hope he is doing well. I hope that all his actions and my heart ache is justified. I also hope that I can move on. I don't want to be hurt anymore. I don't want to find someone, if finding someone just makes me cry. What I really want is to be ok. I just want to be ok with wherever I am. Right now I am lonely, but that is only because I miss the feeling of someone caring for me. I miss someone holding me when I'm happy. I miss being happy enough to be held.

Dog as an Anagram.

Every time I try to determine my religious views in a blog or on paper, I struggle on whether or not to capitalize the word "God."

On the occasions that I write god, I assume he/she will proof read it and change it for me, before it is submitted. Or is it me who is motivated enough, hopeful enough, to write God? Am I the one who decides? If I write god, will God punish me? If I were to write God, would god himself/herself be disappointed?

It doesn't ever change before submission, which leads me to ask, "How do people spell my name?" Does derek even care? Do people lie awake and think about Derek, derek, or just about [Gee] oh Dee?

Murky Waters

I just keep telling myself that things are ok. That I am ok. And yet, when I see pictures of him, my chest starts pounding. I literally just hid him from my news feed on facebook. I don't want to delete him, because I know what that is like... But at the same time, I'm sure he wouldn't notice if I were gone.

The worst part about it is that I can only hide him until I refresh the page. Then he is back in all his glory. Mocking me. Hurting me. I wish this would end.

Not just another day, but everyday.

I never really got a chance to catch our fall. I never got a chance to put up my defenses. Within a flash, it was all over. No dramatic music, no foreshadowing. It just happened. The only clue I got was that night at dinner, he seemed so distant. I didn't catch on until I noticed he wasn't holding my hand. God, I still feel the same pain I felt that night. It hurts to think about it. I really have nothing sacred. Nothing that doesn't remind me of him. After all these months, days, hours, minutes, seconds... after all this time, he still passes through my thoughts most every second. It is almost as if he left yesterday, or today for that matter. I try to keep my mind occupied on other things, but it doesn't really work.

The truth is, if he talked to me, it would be different. If we saw each other every once in a while, I would see him as just another friend whom I used to date. But the cold truth is that he doesn't talk to me. We don't see each other. I doubt he even thinks about me. I doubt he's going through what I am.

The sad thing is, if he were to talk to me again, I would take him back. I suppose it isn't really that sad considering it was the best thing I've ever had. We never had a falling out. We never had a fight. We never did anything to each other that would make it a better life to live apart. I would love to take him back. In fact, that is what I think about. I think about how we dated, and how it is possible we will one day date again. I just wish I knew that was a true thing.

I still hate this.

You can learn how to be you in time.

As my time here on Earth grows, I wonder. I wonder if my time on Earth is the only time I have. Is there time to be spent else where? And if there is, do I deserve to spend it?

My faith in a god has ranged from up to down. I've believed, I've refused, and I stopped caring. And when asked what my religious beliefs were, I never really knew just what to say. I've searched and I've searched for the answers. I've asked for guidance and I've observed others receive. I never really quite understood how someone can tell me to believe in god, when I don't feel God believes in me. If I'm really a part of his life, then why isn't he a part of mine. He, or she, isn't absent from a lack of trying to make that relationship stronger. To be honest, so far my experience has been similar to my relationship with my pet dragon I got on my 17th birthday. I really only thought about him once, it just so happened to be in church.

I've explored religions. Not through text, but through the heart of someone who loves who they are. I've witnessed great faith and I've been explained the inner workings of the Lord and his church. My question is which church is the right church. After a couple of years, I came to the realization that the question is not which church, but why church. I suppose my feelings on church are similar to my feelings on marriage. If the relationship is strong enough, why does a couple need a piece of paper to prove that they're together. Why does the LDS church seal their wedded husbands and wifes for eternity. If the relationship is strong enough, I feel it will be the same through anything, without losing integrity, even through death. A relationship with god should be the same. If you feel strong enough about god, why should anyone conform or compromise their moral beliefs to match that of their churches. If you love god, he'll understand if you don't wear a skirt on Sunday. If you love God, he'll understand that you slip the F word into your vocabulary once in a while. If God loves you, you'll understand that he doesn't care if you're LDS, Catholic, Buddhist, or Jewish. When God loves you, you'll understand that he means for you to be in love with the love of your life. It doesn't matter if that is a man, or a woman. It doesn't matter if you are a man or a woman.

If someone believes that Marriage should be reserved for one man and one woman, that is fine. To be quite honest, I don't want to be married. defense of marriage is asinine, and defending something so false and fake is too. Marriage doesn't mean anything for those who don't have love. Most marriages end in divorce anyway. What a real marriage needs isn't a ring, it isn't a piece of paper, and it isn't a family. What a real marriage needs is love. What a real relationship needs is love. All you need is love. I stand by that statement. I believe the root of everything we do is out of love for someone, something or another. I believe every choice we make, is our own. We make it on the spot, right then, right there. There is no plan. There is no map. Every single person on this planet is different. One thing we have in common, though, is love.

I also believe you can fall in love with anyone. Unfortunately, this includes those who are less than healthy for you. One can fall in love with a drug addict, a selfish prick, an insensitive asshole, an abusive, power hungry tyrant, or a man. I believe you can also fall in love with a woman. Anyone who tries to tell me differently obviously has not experienced that sort of love, and may never experience it, but it doesn't mean it cannot happen.

The secrete to life is love. Love is all you need.