November 13, 2011.

It took me awhile to figure out the exact year just now. I think it amuses me that time continues to stroll by. I think it’s impossible that almost three years is about to pass by. And it’s already hard to remember some of the things that have happened in such a small period. I think that’s why I think about them often. Why I bring up memories often. So I won’t forget them.

I want to remember them. Especially with times like these. These times, that will probably happen often, and I will forget to remember. It’s easy to forget absolutely everything that means anything when you’re angry. And unfortunately, I didn’t write as much as I wanted to these last few years. But I want to remember — especially now.

I just came across an old blog I created for a college class. It was my visual paper that argued for a new model when it came to educational video games. Combining pre-existing gaming theories with some of my own opinions, I pointed out that educational gaming developers can break through into mainstream gaming so long as certain criteria are met. If you want to read this hilarious paper, you can do so here: gamingtoeducate.blogspot.com.

That got me thinking about just how much gaming has influenced me. Ever since I could remember, I always had a controller or mouse in my hands. And whether they were games for learning subjects in school or if they were for pure entertainment, games really shaped me. Unfortunately, a lot of negative stereotypes still plague the gaming industry from violence to obesity — but I think a lot of acceptance has also been more common today than it was even five years ago. Even I, myself, am finding more acceptance with myself — with how I enjoy games — and with how I’m no longer embarrassed to admit that I love them.

I’ve given my hobby so very little credit on just how much it has positively shaped my intelligence, my character and what makes me tick. And now, as I look back, I can proudly say that it’s honed so many skills that I did not even realize. Analytical ability. Multi-tasking. Quick decision making. Data calculations. Teamwork. Problem solving. Event planning even. As for my character — running a 300+ person guild at the age of eleven was absolutely eye-opening. I matured by being able to speak to a lot of people who were older than me, I learned simple conflict mediation between members, and running a guild was almost like running a business. How do I keep my members interested? What expenses need to be made? How can we grow together?

But most importantly, I found out what makes me tick. For those that know me well, I would say a common word used to describe my personality is peculiar. Borderline weird. Maybe even interesting (lol). And gaming was my safe space to let that out. No one knew who I was in real life. I found kind people in-game and in guilds. And if any group of people accepts peculiar — it would be people that game.

Then came college, and I no longer had time for it. Too busy trying to make sure I could afford UCLA, too busy finding jobs, writing papers, wondering how to make a few bucks last the whole week for food. I lost myself. I lost my sense of passion.

But some how, gaming finds a way. My final year in college, the one year where I could finally feel relaxed. My classes were smooth sailing, I had a wonderful job to afford college, and everything was falling into place. I was just missing one thing. And I found it when he shook my hand and said “I play games, too.”

Okay so, I may have skipped a few classes and lost hours upon hours of sleep my senior year… but I found myself. My love for gaming and my love for Paul were allowed to co-exist and grow with each other. Never before in my life was I ever able to be with someone who wanted to play games with me, who appreciated the effort and analysis I put when it came to my gear or my decisions in bot lane. And I don’t think I’ve appreciated both as much as I should have.

Today, Paul has reignited my love for gaming all while teaching me what it takes to also love a person. While I don’t game as much as I used when I was back in high school, I’ve learned to find time somewhere in my schedule to immerse myself in new worlds and new lore every week. I’m curious again. I’m enjoying grouping with people again. I don’t think many people are lucky in life to be able to find someone who can complement their passions in life so perfectly. And to think I get to be one of those people has been absolutely amazing.

People from high school and even my own family members come back to me now and wonder how and why I changed so much in just the span of 2 and a half years. And it’s because he found me. As hilariously cheesy as it sounds, I am confident with who I am for once. And more importantly, I am finally happy.

I have always had trouble letting people into my mind. Unfortunately, my mind is a constant web of weird ideas and existential banter that would eventually drive you mad. Fortunately, I keep a lot of it to myself.

But, there are times in life when I know I need to let that down. From expressing myself more often in the work place to letting the few friends I have know how much they mean to me. Yet while I have fallen in love with love, knowing how amazing it feels to have someone talk to you and show you your own beauty, it is still so very difficult for me to translate that over back towards the people in my life.

I know, absolutely know, that Paul finds that part of me to be most challenging. I did not grow up with similar parents who knew what love was. My parents did not have the kind of marriage that people get excited about. Hugging, kissing, and I love yous were rare if not close to nonexistent. It was considered healthy to compete amongst my siblings rather than support each other. And I struggled to learn what it took to have friendships worth fighting for.

I have days where I can sit by myself and ponder. Growing up, my imagination and my ability to think outside of myself — to realize the vastness of existence; the unknown; the finite — was my way of filling the gaps of human interaction. Sometimes, I read. I click from article to article, researching, and formulating opinions just because it’s there. Other times, I let the world come to me. The inhumanity of humanity. The planets and galaxies far, far away that remind us of how temporary and insignificant we are as a whole.

Other days, it’s work. And I get to be one of those lucky people who honestly love work. The never-ending challenges of the never-ending changes to web interaction. The technical issues. The logic behind decisions. Tackling data analysis. Changing inefficient systems. All while working with people who feel the same passion that you do. That help you to grow into a better person — better leader — better thinker.

Many days, I come home late. Many hours are overtime that are not paid. And many times, my shoulders feel heavy; my mind tired from running. But at this stage, I truly do not mind it all. It gives me genuine purpose, and not many people are blessed with that in corporate America. Unfortunately, I forget that Paul doesn’t see the bright side. He doesn’t experience the thrill that I get from work day to day or the new systems we are brainstorming about. Unfortunately, I have failed to realize that at the end of the day, he only sees me when I am tired and ready to sleep. And by then, there is no hope for my mind to lay down as an open book. In writing this blog post, I am coming to realize that by the time I come home, I have already failed him.

So, if you should ever read this, I want to say that I am sorry. With all that I am, I am just completely and wholeheartedly sorry. All you have ever done was try to turn the pages of my book; to somehow insert yourself into my story. I am far from an interesting read. If anything, I am a very complicated and messy first draft. But you have never given up.

Even now, as I type in bed, listening to you dream, you continue to want to hold my hand in your sleep. Even now, your mumbles of I love you are your little battles to get through to me.

But I want you to know that I am trying. Some days, my body aches are just too much. Some days, I have absolutely no energy. Many days, I spend in bed because I have no other way of feeling better. But I want you to know that I am fighting.

I struggle with my feelings. With expression. But I have come to you, vulnerable, and bawling like a child — pouring my entire soul into you. And while those nights were the toughest, I want you to know that I am trying to continue to leave my book open to you. This blog is my feeble attempt at that. This jumbled blog post, with all of its lack of transitions, is my attempt at somehow deconstructing my mind for you.

Sometimes you wonder if I love you. If I even have the energy to reciprocate any sort of emotion. And I do. I do with all that is me. I do. But I am learning. Every day. How to be better. How to love the way that you love.

So although I am slowly letting my guards down for you each and every day, I want you to know that yes. I do love you. I love you even when my mind can’t speak. I love you even when my body cannot crawl out of bed. And I love you even when I feel like I have failed to show you.

This has been and still is one of the toughest battles I have had in life. But please know, that it is, by far, the most important battle I will ever have. And I will never stop fighting.

Last night was one of the most beautiful things I could ever hope to experience. It was heartbreaking, passionate and so very very humbling.

Knowing and realizing we wanted and needed each other’s fragile existences. Wishing that life wasn’t so unfair. But also falling in love with life. Seeing how fortunate I am to love and be loved in every way possible by the one person that I would do absolutely anything for.

Thank you, Paul, for giving me a life worth living. And if it had to end today, I am happiest knowing I got to spend it with you.

Fear: noun – a distressing emotion aroused by impending danger, evil, pain, etc., whether the threat is real or imagined.

I don’t fear many things in life. When I truly think about it, I’ve only feared one thing. And as many men share this same fear, I thought it was nothing extraordinary. This fear of death. Our own death. The point at which we cease to exist; cease to contribute to the world; to think. To be. It is both a real and imagined fear. I imagine I may die today – that very may well not be the case. The reality of it though is that it must eventually happen. That I know will always and forever be real.

But a second, more important fear has somehow taken a hold of me. My man, the only man I have ever fallen in love with, is about to become a firefighter. Never in my life have I been more proud of him – to have such a wonderfully kind heart to willingly save the world and our people.

But he is still a boyfriend. My boyfriend. The grooves and contours of his handsome face have been memorized by my palms. When my fingers trace his perfect eyebrows, I know I belong with him. The way he smiles in his sleep and the gentle gestures of his good morning kisses.

And beyond that – the unforgettable character that is him. The way you can fall in love with the way he carries himself. The uncontrollable, infectious laughter that fills the room when we watch movies together. The lessons of forgiveness, of humility, and of kindness that he continues to teach me each and every single day.

My utmost fear has now become losing him. I will only admit to this once in my blog because if I admitted it every time I felt this way — I would never stop writing. But that… that… has consumed my mind as of late. My own existence is almost trivial if it means a life without him.

I think I can safely say that I have made it through enough of life to know that he is undoubtedly the one I would love to walk to the end of the world with. But he is a good man. A wonderful man. Not many people can be so passionate about wanting a career fighting the dangers of our world and he is absolutely fearless. While I am scared out of my mind, I have never been so excited in my life to support the one man that means the entire universe to me.

My warrior. My lover. My best friend.

I am in love with you.

Stay safe out there.

I’m 22. I look at myself in the mirror, I look at my pictures from long past, and I realize how much has changed.

Ten years ago I was a fearless, spunky tomboy with bruised knees and baggy clothing. It didn’t matter that I didn’t have friends. I was convinced that skateboards, bikes, action figures and video games were enough. I told myself that being the class nerd and borrowing the max number of library books per visit would somehow pay off in the long run.

But sometimes I couldn’t help but think about how I might be doing this all wrong. I wasn’t hitting puberty. I wasn’t concerned with the boys next door. And I couldn’t make friends even when I tried. To top it off, I was the epitome of the ugly duckling.

Finally, high school graduation was around the corner. I would bet my life that I was the most anxious and excited 17-year-old in the entire stadium – ready to leave my small town and start anew. I nervously packed up my Harry Potter-sized room and slipped on my brand new UCLA sweatshirt, and I was convinced that somehow my life would finally change.

But it didn’t. My first two years in college were mediocre at best. I finally made a few friends, but none that I would keep in the long run. I could barely afford the basic necessities, and cans of tuna became my new best friend. On the bright side, I was away from my hometown that brought nothing but negative flashbacks, and I was finally developing and outgrowing my duckling days.

Before I knew it, senior year was months away, and soon enough I would be donning the familiar cap and gown. But too many nights I spent feeling empty, wanting more, telling myself that sooner or later I would climb out of my hole and let the sunlight soak in. I thought maybe graduating and taking a step out into the real world would do the trick.

I thank God I was wrong. I thank God that before my senior year was over, before it even began, my life took the biggest left turn I had ever experienced. I think it will sound exaggerated. I think people will whisper about how I’m just overly smitten. Especially since it happened so fast. But I know he shares my feelings.

It was summer vacation. August 2011. My co-worker and good friend, Tim, was moving out of his apartment and needed a vacuum bag from me. His best friend, Paul, just flew back from Arizona that night and was helping Tim move out. I heard a knock on my door around 11PM, and that was the very first time I saw him. I had only heard about him from Facebook posts, from late nights when Tim and I talked over dinner and a movie. I never would have thought that he was the same guy that would eventually turn me around.

Unexplainably, that night, I invited myself over. With nothing better to do, with summer vacation still in full swing, I grabbed my favorite board game and darted out the apartment to join Tim and Paul. I introduced them to Settlers of Catan, and we all talked about life while arguing over sheep and wood. Hours passed by until finally the sun was coming out. When we talk about that day now, Paul tells me how I was the prettiest little lady he had ever laid eyes on. I like to tell him I thought I was too cool to admit anything, but my heart blushed (!) when he patted my head, calling me “tiny” as he teased me about my height.

The rest of the summer was filled with adventure. I remember driving down at 6AM to pick Paul up, and we had breakfast on the beach. I remember lying down on our purple blanket and soaking in the smell of the ocean, laughing as we realized that it was impossible to watch the sunrise. I remember how he took me to Tim’s going away party, an endless night of games and bonding with people that soon became friends. I remember how he kidnapped me for days just to take care of me when I was sick and unable to help myself. I remember how he was there for my very first night out dancing as he swept my feet off the floor. That summer was filled with many of my firsts, and I realized how happy I had become.

Almost two years later, I feel like the luckiest girl alive. He has given me the gift of happiness – not just in his presence – but with life in general. He tells me how beautiful I am and just how much he has fallen in love with me every single day. And, after moving in together, I can confidently say that our life has only gotten better and better. While I’ll always pick up his random clothes scattered throughout the room, I know that he’ll always be there when monsters come to haunt my dreams.

All along, I was missing a friend. A best friend. A loving man who wasn’t afraid to show me that I have the strength to change the way I see the world.

“I love your skin. You’ve been kissed by the sun.”