But I’ve always used Tumblr as a rant sesh— so why stop now?

I’ve been thinking tonight about the end of the world and, I guess, death in general. That’s kind of a weird thought. I want to be believe, very badly, that after death there will be something after waiting for us. But what if there isn’t? What if we die, and we’re just… Dead? As if… Our existence meant nothing but to the time we spent on earth.

This is truly haunting me. I miss my grandma. I’m scared.

I’m scared to never see her again. I’m scared that everything I want to believe in doesn’t exist, that there is nothing more after death and life goes as far on as I can see. I wonder if she’s nothing now but a part of the dirt.

I don’t think I can afford to think like that. I don’t really want to, at least.

Sometimes (it sounds crazy, I know), I can feel her with me. Maybe it’s my mind trying to find its safety, I don’t know, but when I’m in trouble, I can really feel her with me. I can feel something, maybe someone, lifting me out of my lowest lows and telling me things are going to be all right. Are things really all right? I miss her so much.

It’s funny, the little things we take for granted when someone we love goes away. I wish she never went away more than I’ve ever wished anything in my life. I miss her walk… Well, more like shuffles. I always would disregard my curfew completely and my grandma would stay awake until I would come home— usually around this time: 3AM. I would hear the prominent push and creak of her old wooden door opening and the slight shuffling of her feet moving down the hallway in a half-asleep daze. What 69 year old woman stays up until 3AM waiting for her granddaughter to come home? My grandma.

I miss her voice. All my life, every time I’ve tried to reenact a Filipino accent, it belonged to my grandma. “Are you com-port-able here?” “Toray, you get some pood prom the pridgey-der.” it still makes me laugh, even when I’m on the verge of tears.

I guess my main point is there has to be something out there, right? Somewhere where all our loved ones go and they are not such a “diminished thing” (thank you, Robert Frost).

I just miss you is all.
If the world were to end tonight, I would certainly regret not going to confession in ten years.
If there is a heaven, there is no doubt in my mind that that is your new home, and I don’t ever want to miss the opportunity to see you again.

I love you forever and always, Victoria N. Cuvin 10/04/11

I’ve really got to stop staring so hard at random people.

It’s easy to go off on someone, like, “Hey you, you broke my heart. I hate you.” Easy. You know? Going off on someone.  Saying meaningless nothings like, “Hey you, you’re nothing. You never were.”  Easy. You know what I mean?

It’s like, every day is a new inspiration. I chose you. Inspire me. Oh, you just want to get along with me? Okay, cool. I’ll just pick a fight with you or conjure up some story about my ex-boyfriend(s) that’s bound to cause some conflict. Eh? You see what I did there?

No. Baaaaad.
Bad idea. Bad life decision right there.

However, amidst the tragedy… bad life decisions are what make for good stories… 

Robots.

I’ve made up so many awful things about you in my head, I’ve started to believe you are a terrible person.

July 4, 2011 we got lost. It was packed. You smoked outside my car. I oogled over Josh Turner’s voice. I ended up sunburnt that day, but I’m pretty sure this is when I knew I loved you.

August 12, 2011 you told me you loved me. I think, maybe. You whispered it and buried your face in my shoulder. I told you to shut up.

There are a lot of things I don’t know, a lot of things I don’t understand. I don’t understand why I thought you wouldn’t call, why something so physical would keep you calling, why I became the way I did, why I am the way I am now.

“But I really liked you.”
And I slept with you to prove my doucher-penis theory.

You weren’t even a doucher.
Or you weren’t then.

You see, it’s not that I wasn’t interested then; I really was, but I was also interested in everyone else. I guess I was just waiting for something better to come along, someone better to come along.

Then
Suddenly
I realized

It was you. There was not a soul better.

But by the time I’d realized this, I’d made it clear I wanted nothing more than physical. Nothing.

But I was wrong.
I turned into a stage five clinger.
Dropping everything for you,
Changing my moral insides for you.

It hurt when it ended.
Mostly for me—
Only for me.

I guess
I realized

You stopped caring, a long time ago.
And these thoughts in my head
Of this awful guy

Who tricked me
Who lead me on
Who hurt me
Who uninspired me

Never existed.

I hurt myself.
And I’m sorry.