<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4013987902602977820</id><updated>2012-02-15T22:43:37.201-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Kels</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kelleykforsythe.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4013987902602977820/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kelleykforsythe.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Kels</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15450413494138132247</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_j1CgHXyivyE/SODpk0G3qDI/AAAAAAAAE0A/z_23N7eW6JA/S220/043_43.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>24</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4013987902602977820.post-4005039820596898447</id><published>2008-11-10T14:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-10T14:35:07.212-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I won</title><content type='html'>I didn't want to win.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When A and I broke up he said he needed to get his life together. A couple months later, when he said he still loved me... he said he wouldn't want to date me again because he didn't have his life together. I am starting to feel like he never will. For the first morning of my life... I feel ok with that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I spend my days trying to make my life better. I spent time at a therapist trying to make my life better. I spend time at church and my three jobs and school... all trying to make my life better. I know at one point A wanted to do the same, I think he has forgotten about that though. I wish it wasn't so... not for "us" but for him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, it is hard to stick to a plan. Yes, sometimes I think my life sucks.. working 12 hour days, 7 days a week. It is hard. Not being able to drink with my friends.. or not wanting to... makes my friendships hard. Not having time for anything ... hard. But it is what I have to do at this point in my life... since I woke up and found myself in thsi situation, esp. financially. It is not always fun, but through my newfound perspective I have found ways to look at the bright side. I still enjoy my days. I enjoy the time I run with my dog, and talk to my friends( and remember our conversations)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A is so smart, and such an amazing person. I just wish he would wake up and grab hold of that. The very little I do see of him, or hear of him... I know forsure he is not. I want more for him than that. How can I want these things for him, even when I know he will not/is not with me? I have looked at people who asked me this question... and I've seen a bit of who I use to be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is forgiveness. I want Adam to be happy no matter who he is with. I have learned to live without Adam, I have thought of our relationship and the struggles. I have begged for it back. I have contemplated how I lost myself, and he may have lost himself... I miss him . All the time. I am angry sometimes. I am angry because he won't give it another shot... but, IF I were able to talk him into it... would I want a relationship I had to "talk someone" into? No. I loved Adam. He was my best friend. He is my best friend. It's forgiveness... even if he doesn't love me anymore. I figured that out months ago. I think that saved me. Did it fix me? No. But I took a long hard look at the way I was living... and the justification that I was getting over my marriage seemed... just stupid actually. Since when does trying to fix your broken heart include drinking all the time? Nope. It includes waking up everyday and loving myself... even when I am sad, even when I woke up with tears on my face...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and when I forget? I listen to the song... over and over again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;I got the call today, I didn't wanna hearBut I knew that it would comeAn old true friend of ours was talkin' on the phoneShe said you found someoneAnd I thought of all the bad luck,And all the struggles we went throughHow I lost me and you lost youWhat are these voices outside love's open doorMake us throw off our contentmentAnd beg for something more?I've been learning to live without you nowBut I miss you sometimesThe more I know, the less I understandAll the things I thought I knew, I'm learning them againI've been tryin' to get down to the Heart of the MatterBut my will gets weakAnd my thoughts seem to scatterBut I think it's about forgivenessForgivenessEven if, even if you don't love me anymoreThese times are so uncertainThere's a yearning undefinedAnd people filled with rageWe all need a little tendernessHow can love survive in such a graceless ageAnd the trust and self-assurance that lead to happinessThey're the very things we kill, I guessPride and competition cannot fill these empty armsAnd the work they put between us,You know it doesn't keep us warmI've been trying to live without you nowBut I miss you, babyThe more I know, the less I understandAnd all the things I thought I figured out, I have to learn againI've been tryin' to get down to the Heart of the MatterBut my will gets weakAnd my heart is so shatteredBut I think it's about forgivenessForgivenessEven if, even if you don't love me anymoreAll the people in your life who've come and goneThey let you down, you know they hurt your prideBetter put it all behind you; cause life goes onYou keep carrin' that anger, it'll eat you up insideI wanna be happily everafterAnd my heart is so shatteredBut I know it's about forgivenessForgivenessEven if, even if you don't love me anymoreI've been tryin' to get down to the Heart of the MatterBecause the flesh will get weakAnd the ashes will scatterSo I'm thinkin' about forgivenessForgivenessEven if &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;you don't love me anymoreEven if you don't love me anymore&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;I want to help him. I will when he lets me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#330033;"&gt;I didn't want to win...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4013987902602977820-4005039820596898447?l=kelleykforsythe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kelleykforsythe.blogspot.com/feeds/4005039820596898447/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4013987902602977820&amp;postID=4005039820596898447' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4013987902602977820/posts/default/4005039820596898447'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4013987902602977820/posts/default/4005039820596898447'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kelleykforsythe.blogspot.com/2008/11/i-won.html' title='I won'/><author><name>Kels</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15450413494138132247</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_j1CgHXyivyE/SODpk0G3qDI/AAAAAAAAE0A/z_23N7eW6JA/S220/043_43.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4013987902602977820.post-7257979129469838636</id><published>2008-11-07T13:06:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-07T13:15:35.336-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Godspeed My good friend</title><content type='html'>You have always been there for me, my sweet sweet T. We have been the best of friends... for as long as I care to remember. You have provided me with unconditional love ans support. I hate my phone. I hate that I missed your call. I hate that I NEVER check my messages. Your girlfriend told me you laid in bed and cried and all you wanted was me... and I didn't even have a clue.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish I could have been there for you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is what I know. You are so so strong. Just because this happened you are not weak. You are strong and so so smart. You are going to make it through this. Everything is going to get better. That is all I know. I wish I knew more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will always be there for you though. Never again will I miss your need for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am sorry. I love you from the deepest depth of my heart.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4013987902602977820-7257979129469838636?l=kelleykforsythe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kelleykforsythe.blogspot.com/feeds/7257979129469838636/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4013987902602977820&amp;postID=7257979129469838636' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4013987902602977820/posts/default/7257979129469838636'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4013987902602977820/posts/default/7257979129469838636'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kelleykforsythe.blogspot.com/2008/11/godspeed-my-good-friend.html' title='Godspeed My good friend'/><author><name>Kels</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15450413494138132247</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_j1CgHXyivyE/SODpk0G3qDI/AAAAAAAAE0A/z_23N7eW6JA/S220/043_43.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4013987902602977820.post-8510821568596797341</id><published>2008-11-06T11:15:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-07T13:05:46.020-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Why?</title><content type='html'>I just want to know why you won't love me? I know you did before? Don't you remember?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Reading old myspace messages of two people falling in love, and caring for eachother...it's not healthy.  It is actually one of the best forms of what I like to call emotional cutting... ( correction: sex and the city stole it from me... I know what you were thinking )&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know we shouldn't be friends. But when you needed help I helped you. Now I need help. I need you to tell me how you got over me so quickly. I need to know your fool proof way of falling out of love with someone.  I want you to tell me again why this is for the best. I want you to tell me you hate me.... because then maybe I would get it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want you to read the messages. I want you to tell me it's not worth one more try, I want you to tell me our relationship wasn't based on love. Real love... I've tried everything to get over you. Maybe I'm not meant to. I'm petrified you will stop loving me... that all hope will be gone. Have you already?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4013987902602977820-8510821568596797341?l=kelleykforsythe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kelleykforsythe.blogspot.com/feeds/8510821568596797341/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4013987902602977820&amp;postID=8510821568596797341' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4013987902602977820/posts/default/8510821568596797341'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4013987902602977820/posts/default/8510821568596797341'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kelleykforsythe.blogspot.com/2008/11/why.html' title='Why?'/><author><name>Kels</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15450413494138132247</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_j1CgHXyivyE/SODpk0G3qDI/AAAAAAAAE0A/z_23N7eW6JA/S220/043_43.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4013987902602977820.post-6750131772908513402</id><published>2008-11-03T15:23:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-03T15:25:18.992-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Rock the vote...</title><content type='html'>I tried to keep politics from the blog.. even though for those of you who know me I am obsessed.  I fear tomorrow may ruin the next four years of this country, not to mention our economy for who knows how long...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish people were more educated to vote...&lt;br /&gt;Here are a few things I think you should know...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Proposed changes in taxes after 2008 General election:                                                                                             &lt;br /&gt;                                                                                                                                                      &lt;br /&gt;CAPITAL GAINS TAX                                                                                                                                   &lt;br /&gt;                                                                                                                                                      &lt;br /&gt;MCCAIN                                                                                                                                             &lt;br /&gt;0% on home sales up to $500,000                                                                                                                      &lt;br /&gt;per home (couples) McCain does not                                                                                                                 &lt;br /&gt;propose any change in existing home sales income tax.                                                                                                &lt;br /&gt;                                                                                                                                                     &lt;br /&gt;OBAMA                                                                                                                                                &lt;br /&gt;28% on profit from ALL home sales                                                                                                                   &lt;br /&gt;                                                                                                                                                      &lt;br /&gt;How does this affect you?                                                                                                                           &lt;br /&gt;If you sell your home and make a profit, you will pay 28% of your gain on taxes.  If you are heading toward retirement and would like to down-size &lt;br /&gt;your home or move into a retirement community,  28% of the money you make from your home will go to taxes. This proposal will adversely affect the &lt;br /&gt;elderly who are counting on the income from their homes as part of their retirement income.                                                         &lt;br /&gt;                                                                                                                                                     &lt;br /&gt;DIVIDEND TAX                                                                                                                                       &lt;br /&gt;                                                                                                                                                     &lt;br /&gt;MCCAIN 15% ( no change)                                                                                                                             &lt;br /&gt;                                                                                                                                                      &lt;br /&gt;OBAMA 39.6%                                                                                                                                         &lt;br /&gt;                                                                                                                                                      &lt;br /&gt;How will this affect you?  If you have any money invested in stock                                                                                 &lt;br /&gt;market, IRA, mutual funds, college funds, life insurance, retirement                                                                               &lt;br /&gt;accounts, or anything that pays or reinvests dividends, you will now                                                                                &lt;br /&gt;be paying nearly 40% of the money earned on taxes if Obama becomes president.  The experts predict that higher tax rates on dividends and capital   &lt;br /&gt;gains would crash the stock market yet do absolutely nothing to cut the deficit.                                                                   &lt;br /&gt;                                                                                                                                                      &lt;br /&gt;INCOME TAX - comparison                                                                                                                             &lt;br /&gt;                                                                                                                                                      &lt;br /&gt;MCCAIN (no changes)                                                                                                                                 &lt;br /&gt;                                                                                                                                                      &lt;br /&gt;Single making 30K - tax $4,500                                                                                                                     &lt;br /&gt;Single making 50K - tax $12,500                                                                                                                      &lt;br /&gt;Single making 75K - tax $18,750                                                                                                                     &lt;br /&gt;Married making 60K- tax $9,000                                                                                                                      &lt;br /&gt;Married making 75K - tax $18,750                                                                                                                   &lt;br /&gt;Married making 125K - tax $31,250                                                                                                                    &lt;br /&gt;                                                                                                                                                     &lt;br /&gt;OBAMA                                                                                                                                                &lt;br /&gt;(reversion to pre-Bush tax cuts)                                                                                                                   &lt;br /&gt;Single making 30K - tax $8,400                                                                                                                      &lt;br /&gt;Single making 50K - tax $14,000                                                                                                                     &lt;br /&gt;Single making 75K - tax $23,250                                                                                                                      &lt;br /&gt;Married making 60K - tax $16,800                                                                                                                   &lt;br /&gt;Married making 75K - tax $21,000                                                                                                                   &lt;br /&gt;Married making 125K - tax $38,750                                                                                                                   &lt;br /&gt;                                                                                                                                                     &lt;br /&gt;Under Obama your taxes will more than double!                                                                                                       &lt;br /&gt;How does this affect you? No explanation needed.                            This is pretty straight forward.                                       &lt;br /&gt;                                                                                                                                                      &lt;br /&gt;INHERITANCE TAX                                                                                                                                     &lt;br /&gt;                                                                                                                                                      &lt;br /&gt;MCCAIN 0% (No change, Bush repealed this tax)                                                                                                       &lt;br /&gt;                                                                                                                                                      &lt;br /&gt;OBAMA Restore the inheritance tax                                                                                                                   &lt;br /&gt;                                                                                                                                                      &lt;br /&gt;How does this affect you? Many families have lost businesses, farms and ranches; and homes that have been in their families for generations because &lt;br /&gt;they could not afford the inheritance tax.                                                                                                         &lt;br /&gt;Those willing their assets to loved ones will be setting them up to  lose them to these taxes.                                                     &lt;br /&gt;                                                                                                                                                     &lt;br /&gt;NEW TAXES BEING PROPOSED BY OBAMA                                                                                                                    &lt;br /&gt;                                                                                                                                                     &lt;br /&gt;* New government taxes proposed on homes that are more than                                                                                          &lt;br /&gt;2400 square feet                                                                                                                                   &lt;br /&gt;                                                                                                                                                      &lt;br /&gt;* New gasoline taxes (as if gas weren't high enough already)                                                                                       &lt;br /&gt;                                                                                                                                                      &lt;br /&gt;* New taxes on natural resources consumption (heating gas, water, electricity)                                                                     &lt;br /&gt;                                                                                                                                                      &lt;br /&gt;* New taxes on retirement accounts and last but not least . . . .                                                                                   &lt;br /&gt;                                                                                                                                                     &lt;br /&gt;* New taxes to pay for socialized medicine so we can receive the same level of medical care as other third-world countries!!!                       &lt;br /&gt;                                                                                                                                                     &lt;br /&gt;You can verify the above at the following web sites:                                                                                                &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://money.cnn.com/news/specials/election/2008/index.html" target="_blank" onclick="onClickUnsafeLink(event);"&gt;http://money.cnn.com/news/specials/election/2008/index.html&lt;/a&gt;                                                                                         &lt;br /&gt;                                                                    &lt;a href="http://www.cnn.com/ELECTION/2008/issues/issues.taxes.html" target="_blank" onclick="onClickUnsafeLink(event);"&gt;http://www.cnn.com/ELECTION/2008/issues/issues.taxes.html&lt;/a&gt;                       &lt;br /&gt;                                                                                                                                                     &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://elections.foxnews.com/?s=proposed+taxes" target="_blank" onclick="onClickUnsafeLink(event);"&gt;http://elections.foxnews.com/?s=proposed+taxes&lt;/a&gt;                                                                                                      &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bulletin.aarp.org/yourworld/politics/articles/mccain_obama_offer_different_visions_on_taxes.html" target="_blank" onclick="onClickUnsafeLink(event);"&gt;http://bulletin.aarp.org/yourworld/politics/articles/mccain_obama_offer_different_visions_on_taxes.html&lt;/a&gt;                                             &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://blog.washingtonpost.com/fact-checker/candidates/barack_obama/" target="_blank" onclick="onClickUnsafeLink(event);"&gt;http://blog.washingtonpost.com/fact-checker/candidates/barack_obama/&lt;/a&gt;                                                                                &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://blog.washingtonpost.com/fact-checker/candidates/john_mccain" target="_blank" onclick="onClickUnsafeLink(event);"&gt;http://blog.washingtonpost.com/fact-checker/candidates/john_mccain&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4013987902602977820-6750131772908513402?l=kelleykforsythe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kelleykforsythe.blogspot.com/feeds/6750131772908513402/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4013987902602977820&amp;postID=6750131772908513402' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4013987902602977820/posts/default/6750131772908513402'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4013987902602977820/posts/default/6750131772908513402'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kelleykforsythe.blogspot.com/2008/11/rock-vote.html' title='Rock the vote...'/><author><name>Kels</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15450413494138132247</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_j1CgHXyivyE/SODpk0G3qDI/AAAAAAAAE0A/z_23N7eW6JA/S220/043_43.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4013987902602977820.post-3036042423850821311</id><published>2008-10-30T10:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-30T10:59:58.738-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I don't believe you</title><content type='html'>Pink:&lt;br /&gt;I don’t mind it I don’t mind at all It’s like you’re the swing set And I’m the kid that falls It’s like the way we fight The times I’ve cried We come to blows And every night The passion’s there So it’s got to be right Right? No I don’t believe you When you say don’t come around here no more I won’t remind you You said we wouldn’t be apart No I don’t believe you When you say you don’t need me anymore So don’t pretend to Not love me at all I don’t mind it I still don’t mind at all It’s like one of those bad dreams When you can’t wake up It looks like you’ve given up You’ve had enough But I want more No I won't stop Because I just know You’ll come around Right? No I don’t believe you When you say don’t come around here no more I won’t remind you You said we wouldn’t be apart No I don’t believe you When you say you don’t need me anymore So don’t pretend to Not love me at all Just don’t stand there and watch me fall Because I, because I still don’t mind at all It’s like the way we fight The times I’ve cried We come to blows And every night The passion's there So it’s got to be right, Right? No I don’t believe you When you say don’t come around here no more I won’t remind you You said we wouldn’t be apart No I don’t believe you When you say you don’t need me anymore So don’t pretend to Not love me at all I don’t believe you&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4013987902602977820-3036042423850821311?l=kelleykforsythe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kelleykforsythe.blogspot.com/feeds/3036042423850821311/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4013987902602977820&amp;postID=3036042423850821311' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4013987902602977820/posts/default/3036042423850821311'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4013987902602977820/posts/default/3036042423850821311'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kelleykforsythe.blogspot.com/2008/10/i-dont-believe-you.html' title='I don&apos;t believe you'/><author><name>Kels</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15450413494138132247</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_j1CgHXyivyE/SODpk0G3qDI/AAAAAAAAE0A/z_23N7eW6JA/S220/043_43.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4013987902602977820.post-6643588038396409101</id><published>2008-10-15T08:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-30T08:49:43.126-07:00</updated><title type='text'>How many times do you break before you shatter?</title><content type='html'>James Blunt... a wise man... once said:&lt;br /&gt;Goodbye my lover&lt;br /&gt;Goodbye my friend&lt;br /&gt;You have been the one&lt;br /&gt; You have been the one for me&lt;br /&gt; I am a dreamer and when I wake&lt;br /&gt; You can't break my spirit - it's my dreams you take&lt;br /&gt;And as you move on, remember me&lt;br /&gt;Remember us and all we used to be&lt;br /&gt; I've seen you cry,&lt;br /&gt;I've seen you smile&lt;br /&gt;I've watched you sleeping for a while&lt;br /&gt; I'd be the mother of your child&lt;br /&gt;I'd spend a lifetime with you&lt;br /&gt;I know your fears and you know mine&lt;br /&gt;We've had our doubts but now we're fine&lt;br /&gt;And I love you,&lt;br /&gt;I swear that's true&lt;br /&gt; I cannot live without you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A and I decided not to talk anymore. Not to share Dolce. Nothing.  We did this is in an attempt to stop hurting eachother feelings. I'm not sure this is the effect it has had on me.  I do feel that it has rapidly propelled me into the next stage of the healing process...&lt;br /&gt;I have slowly pulled my way through each stage... some I spent more time in than others...&lt;br /&gt;1. Denial&lt;br /&gt;2.Anger&lt;br /&gt;3.Bargaining&lt;br /&gt;4. Depression : And here I am. standing outside the door... not planning to knock, but feeling as though someone is going to reach out and grab me and pull me in screaming. Like a ghost. I want to go in. I want to because I know there is life after this stage. I think that maybe I could start to feel again after this stage. I think that maybe my body will thaw out and the numbness in my throat where I keep myself from crying with suffice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BECAUSE WHAT'S THE NEXT STEP?&lt;br /&gt;Acceptance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel kinda like Hugh Grant in the movie Notting Hill... in the winter...when he walks in a daze. Only not "quite" as attractive... close though.  And then... like yesterday morning, I look out my shower curtain and I see my slippers sitting there... waiting for me, and I smile...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just need 100 more smiles... and I'll make it out ok.&lt;br /&gt;As not to worry my friends, but as my mothers secretary said to her the other day, " Oh my, how much more can that girl take, " and the answer is.... so much more... you have no idea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Note: I feel my next smile will come directly from the fab new BCBG dress I am going to slip into Saturday afternoon!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4013987902602977820-6643588038396409101?l=kelleykforsythe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kelleykforsythe.blogspot.com/feeds/6643588038396409101/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4013987902602977820&amp;postID=6643588038396409101' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4013987902602977820/posts/default/6643588038396409101'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4013987902602977820/posts/default/6643588038396409101'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kelleykforsythe.blogspot.com/2008/10/how-many-times-do-you-break-before-you.html' title='How many times do you break before you shatter?'/><author><name>Kels</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15450413494138132247</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_j1CgHXyivyE/SODpk0G3qDI/AAAAAAAAE0A/z_23N7eW6JA/S220/043_43.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4013987902602977820.post-2832265137089883971</id><published>2008-10-03T23:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-04T00:00:14.711-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Your upset?????</title><content type='html'>WHY? HOW?  i guess its ok for my heart to break again and again and again. I don't know what changed.... I HATE YOU DANNY. It's not your business. I don't know what it is you have againt a and ever being happy... but thank you gor breaking my heart again...because what i needed to hear was... it's me and erin..... i hate my entire life&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4013987902602977820-2832265137089883971?l=kelleykforsythe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kelleykforsythe.blogspot.com/feeds/2832265137089883971/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4013987902602977820&amp;postID=2832265137089883971' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4013987902602977820/posts/default/2832265137089883971'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4013987902602977820/posts/default/2832265137089883971'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kelleykforsythe.blogspot.com/2008/10/your-upset.html' title='Your upset?????'/><author><name>Kels</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15450413494138132247</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_j1CgHXyivyE/SODpk0G3qDI/AAAAAAAAE0A/z_23N7eW6JA/S220/043_43.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4013987902602977820.post-2883182687231518431</id><published>2008-10-02T17:59:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-02T18:22:42.767-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I know I've said it before.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_j1CgHXyivyE/SOVzs5H7RuI/AAAAAAAAE00/hvB-7FP27Tw/s1600-h/not+acce.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_j1CgHXyivyE/SOVzs5H7RuI/AAAAAAAAE00/hvB-7FP27Tw/s320/not+acce.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5252731755483055842" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This is no longer acceptable... this is how I've felt all summer...and most the time how I looked.....&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My life has spiraled out of control. Now I need it back.  I look back at how I spent my summer... literally, seriously, in bed. Crying. At a bar. Crying.  I am disgusted. Really. I have lost sight of who I am.  I haven't been to the gym, running, tanning.  I ate absolutely nothing but SHIT...which is not me if you know me. I seriously stopped wearing makeup and doing my hair. I lived in jeans and a t shirt. I turned down everyboy who asked me on a date.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I seriously thought at points, I didn't need to take care of myself. I was some how insignificant to the world. Why? because  I was no one now with out my someone? Was I no longer allowed to live?  I was depressed, it is obvious.  Anyone who said this to me was obviously berated. I don't have problems, I couldn't possibly be depressed...well, whatever. I admit it. I was. I am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things have got to change now though.I have to love myself more than I loved him.  I have to get my ASS to the salon and put on a fing dress... for my DATE on Saturday.  I may cough up blood on his food ( I am very sick) but I will look pretty...and hopefully feel pretty for this first time since April 26th.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I held on as long as I could. I slept for whole weekends... recently... I have to just stop. It HAS TO STOP.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to be happy again. I think it is finally through my little pea brain it is over... so.. I better be on my best behavior this weekend.. :) wish me luck.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4013987902602977820-2883182687231518431?l=kelleykforsythe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kelleykforsythe.blogspot.com/feeds/2883182687231518431/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4013987902602977820&amp;postID=2883182687231518431' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4013987902602977820/posts/default/2883182687231518431'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4013987902602977820/posts/default/2883182687231518431'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kelleykforsythe.blogspot.com/2008/10/i-know-ive-said-it-before.html' title='I know I&apos;ve said it before.'/><author><name>Kels</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15450413494138132247</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_j1CgHXyivyE/SODpk0G3qDI/AAAAAAAAE0A/z_23N7eW6JA/S220/043_43.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_j1CgHXyivyE/SOVzs5H7RuI/AAAAAAAAE00/hvB-7FP27Tw/s72-c/not+acce.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4013987902602977820.post-4569083746655576036</id><published>2008-10-02T10:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-02T10:25:28.775-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The angel...</title><content type='html'>And I quote...&lt;br /&gt;"&lt;span style="font-family:Tahoma;font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt; font-family: Tahoma;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:black;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;I need someone  right now and you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:black;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;have always been there for me (and everyone you have ever  known.  That is angelic, by the way)"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hate when you wake up one day and realize your just a sound board.  I would do anything to make it better for him. For anyone.  I am not mother Theresa. I do this out of love for my friends. I do this because I want nothing more than for every single person I love to be happy.  I do in return receive certain things...like unconditional love and friendship.  But what if that is not being offered?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My good friend Matt is in the hospital right now.  He just had cancer cut out of his face and although he was assured he would not lose his eye...it looks as though he may. This is someone who needs my help.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My best friends R and J are going through on of the hardest things in this life... a broken heart...and they think I may have something to contribute to their healing process.... I don't know if their right, but they need my help.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have yet to regain my life. My confidence, my happiness.  Things have gotten easier, but I still cry... all the time. I still sit and think and miss my life, my finance. I still have nightmares and wake up and reach my hand across the bed, only to realize he isn't there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't help someone who doesn't want to be helped. I can't help someone who only needs me when they are feeling down and out, but doesn't want anything to do with me any other time.  I can't help someone who says they want to do certain things but clearly doesn't try ...AT ALL.... to accomplish these things.  I think one of the main reasons I am so good at helping my friends is because I am a good friend. I am there. I don't always have the answers, but I am willing to be there to listen or just keep them company.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But that is not what he wants. He wants me to listen, but not be there for anything else. He wants me to be his sound board.He doesn't have much to say to me if there isn't something wrong with him... or if there is something wrong with me....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know, maybe he is right.  Maybe it is too hard.  Maybe I shouldn't be in his life anymore.  But then... I don't know. He is my best friend. I can't lose that.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4013987902602977820-4569083746655576036?l=kelleykforsythe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kelleykforsythe.blogspot.com/feeds/4569083746655576036/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4013987902602977820&amp;postID=4569083746655576036' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4013987902602977820/posts/default/4569083746655576036'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4013987902602977820/posts/default/4569083746655576036'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kelleykforsythe.blogspot.com/2008/10/angel.html' title='The angel...'/><author><name>Kels</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15450413494138132247</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_j1CgHXyivyE/SODpk0G3qDI/AAAAAAAAE0A/z_23N7eW6JA/S220/043_43.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4013987902602977820.post-5084269915486391111</id><published>2008-09-15T07:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-15T07:42:24.033-07:00</updated><title type='text'>When does it get easier?</title><content type='html'>Yesterday, at 1:30am... my dear friend R sent me a text and asked me, " When does it get easier?" My immediate thought is ...any day now.  I didn't text her back until this morning because I was sleeping next to my best best love child friend J, who found it easier to sleep over at my house than go home alone... since yes, her boyfriend just broke up with her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel two things at this time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. I think my turn is over.  My friends have been amazing through all of my saddness, through all of my bullshit... through the entire summer. My wedding day has come and passed, and now it is time to move on and leave my past in my past.  It is time for me to put my feelings aside and try to help my friends... who are in the same position I was in just five short months ago.  Can I tell them when the heart ache will stop? No. because I myself do not know yet.  I do have advice though. I am well on my way to recovery. Will they listen? Who knows. I do know it helps to hear all points of view. I do know that most the time I didn't listen, and that was my choice. I didn't always want to feel better... I think I thought sometimes I shouldn't feel better.  I was wrong, but they have the right to be wrong as well. They have the right to grieve in their own way and own time... all I need to do is be there as much as possible, just like they were for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. My second thought is what the fuck? what? really? what?  It seems as though almost every unmarried friend I have right now has recently been dumped, and is unable to get over it.  It makes me wonder, are we massicists?  I know that it is semi unrealistic to live your life alone, with only your girlfriends and maybe some cats... but is it? Is it worth this? Is it worth a broken heart time and time again... just to maybe find someone? Is it worth longing for someone in the middle of the night, waking up from a dream and realizing they are not in fact in the bed laying next to you... wishing and hoping someone will come back.. when you know they won't.  My question is, does this life really facilitate a great love? I love my friends. I loved Adam.  can't that be enough?Why isn't it enough? I then get so angry... angry I think this way, angry he left... I hate boys... but then there are amazing boys. Who despite the fact you can't let go... of someone that is not them... are still willing to be there, and wait, and just be amazing.  And how is that fair?  Why can't I tell my brain what I want to do and then do it?  Or does it have anything to do with my brain? Can your heart really think for itself?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know. But I have five months under my belt, and I will figure it out day by day just to help my friends... no one should have to feel like this... and I'm not sure why we do...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4013987902602977820-5084269915486391111?l=kelleykforsythe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kelleykforsythe.blogspot.com/feeds/5084269915486391111/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4013987902602977820&amp;postID=5084269915486391111' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4013987902602977820/posts/default/5084269915486391111'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4013987902602977820/posts/default/5084269915486391111'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kelleykforsythe.blogspot.com/2008/09/when-does-it-get-easier.html' title='When does it get easier?'/><author><name>Kels</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15450413494138132247</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_j1CgHXyivyE/SODpk0G3qDI/AAAAAAAAE0A/z_23N7eW6JA/S220/043_43.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4013987902602977820.post-8555193591461328054</id><published>2008-09-09T11:08:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-10T17:34:23.568-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I guess I don't even know what I want anymore.</title><content type='html'>I thought it would make me feel so much better... being given an explanation, being told he is not in fact dating a girl, he doesn't even like her at all, he does accept responsibility for some of the situations we are now left in. I thought hearing him say "I love you too" would mend my broken heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It did, it did help. It did make me feel better.  It did not however make me want to run back into his arms.. and thats how I know it's getting better. Maybe just because I know I can't. I think we both know we have lost true love... and neither of us seems to know how to get it back. But somehow it helps to know the love is still there. I don't know if we ever will... but for now it's ok. Look at Andy and Amber.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I want more so than to love A is for him to love A. He gets these ideas in his head that he isn't progressing through life fast enough, or as fast as he should be. That he is unmotivated and lazy. That he isn't worth it sometimes and it's simply not true.  I am the only person on this earth I believe who really knows Adam, besides his mom and dad. I tried for three years to get him to open up, and in lots of ways he did... in other ways I never even saw a glimpse.  And that is fine, that is how some people are, that is the way they like it, and there is nothing wrong with being who you are... no matter if it is socially acceptable, ideal or anything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Adam is an amazing person.  I have seen his life to a total 180... I think his problem is he doesn't think it's far enough, and it may not be... but that is for him to decide. He needs to sit down and decide where he wants to be, and how to get there. To think realistically how long it will take and how much work it will take.  To put pressures on himself that are not obtainable is not going to help.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He asks how "You have this awesome drive that makes you want to… no… HAVE to succeed"... I simply replied that he cannot compare himself to me, or anyone else. He needs to do his own thing in his own time.  He needs to own his mistakes, AND his accomplishments.  Furthermore, I have spent my life trying to be perfect, it's just another day to me, I can't not push..... ugh... whole different story.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4013987902602977820-8555193591461328054?l=kelleykforsythe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kelleykforsythe.blogspot.com/feeds/8555193591461328054/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4013987902602977820&amp;postID=8555193591461328054' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4013987902602977820/posts/default/8555193591461328054'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4013987902602977820/posts/default/8555193591461328054'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kelleykforsythe.blogspot.com/2008/09/i-guess-i-dont-even-know-what-i-want.html' title='I guess I don&apos;t even know what I want anymore.'/><author><name>Kels</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15450413494138132247</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_j1CgHXyivyE/SODpk0G3qDI/AAAAAAAAE0A/z_23N7eW6JA/S220/043_43.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4013987902602977820.post-6046901470960473828</id><published>2008-08-31T01:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-31T01:47:06.411-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Insomnia... or anger???</title><content type='html'>I guess I feel it is a good thing I am sitting up, watching the home channel at 4am.  &lt;div&gt;The reason I think this is because it means I have moved past the first stage in my healing process.  I went to sleep rather early on this Labor Day weekend Saturday night... after mosing around my parents house all day.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I however was awoken by a nightmare and found myself nothing but angry.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am angry that he promised me he would love me forever. I am angry that he promised my dad the same thing. I am angry that when times got hard he ran away. I am angry that I know one huge component in my current situation is that he was jusy plain scared. I am angry that he didn't care enough to talk about it or try harder.  I am angry he let me be the way I was. I am angry I ever even had to feel the way I did, which made me act the way I did. I am angry that I KNOW this innocent girl is going to get hurt as well. I am angry that I have a mortgage for a house that isn't even the one I wanted. I am angry he could walk away from the wreck and leave me with the mortgage and all his bills. I am angry my dad was right, not about him but about the house.  I am angry I didn't listen. I am angry calling off the wedding and working on our relationship was never even an option.  I am angry I have made this so easy on him and he has done nothing but try to make it hard for me. I am angry he has said hurtful things to me for four months. I am angry I let him. I am angry he gave me back a phone and left me to delete the dirty messages and pictures of his new life. I am angry I still care. I am angry that my anger hurts people who actually give a shit about me.  I am angry I have to get up in three hours to go to work.  I am angry I am never his first thought. I am angry he **still** can find money to go out all the time but can't pay me back any money, not even the money I have given him after we broke up.  I am angry to think she was ever near my dog.  I am angry Dolce has to live in two places. I am angry my mom still asks if I talk to Adam, or if I think we can work it out.  I am angry his family hasn't slapped him in the face yet and asked him what the hell he is doing.  I am angry I don't have time to see my friends.  I am angry I am so tired but I cannot even close my eyes. I am just angry.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4013987902602977820-6046901470960473828?l=kelleykforsythe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kelleykforsythe.blogspot.com/feeds/6046901470960473828/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4013987902602977820&amp;postID=6046901470960473828' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4013987902602977820/posts/default/6046901470960473828'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4013987902602977820/posts/default/6046901470960473828'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kelleykforsythe.blogspot.com/2008/08/insomnia-or-anger.html' title='Insomnia... or anger???'/><author><name>Kels</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15450413494138132247</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_j1CgHXyivyE/SODpk0G3qDI/AAAAAAAAE0A/z_23N7eW6JA/S220/043_43.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4013987902602977820.post-8248643096291672362</id><published>2008-08-29T10:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-02T08:38:59.030-07:00</updated><title type='text'>And We are done....</title><content type='html'>So done. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;As Kim says... no self pity today.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I say, no self pity ever again.  I wish Adam just would have told me the truth at the start of this.  I actually wish I didn't fall for Adam ten years ago. I wish I was never in this situation.  I wish we never bought a condo, I wish we never talked about getting married. I wish I wasn't at my moms house right now having to put my unused wedding dress in storage.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I wish it had taken Adam longer than 2 months to start dating someone else.  I wish he hadn't lied when I asked him about it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I wish it had taken me less than four months to realize it is over.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But, I did. I do.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And we are moving on.  Being broken hearted is kinda like having broken ribs.  On the outside it looks like nothing is wrong, but every breath hurts.... my ribs have been broken for too long.  It took me too long to care about myself enough to stop hoping, stop holding on, stop crying.  I'm not kidding myself, I am not over it... but for the first time I want to be.  I wanna feel like me again. I want to think about my needs and meet them.  I want to stop crying into a glass of pinot grigio about my life ending... because really?? My life is just starting.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;No, I don't know how to do it. I don't know how to make it stop hurting. I do however know I have many many amazing friends... all with advice. All willing to listen to me, and help me and understand me.  I've spent four months trying to push that away, trying to act like I didn't need it.  Sticking up for Adam and thinking... he'll come back.  I am done doing that.  I am ready to listen and learn.  I am ready to learn about myself and remember how strong I am.    I am ready to laugh because I want to, not because people are looking. I am ready to cry because I want to, not hide when my friends see I am hurting.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am ready to start my life over.  Start my life without Adam as a part of it.  He is a memory... mostly a good memory. That is where he shall stay.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4013987902602977820-8248643096291672362?l=kelleykforsythe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kelleykforsythe.blogspot.com/feeds/8248643096291672362/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4013987902602977820&amp;postID=8248643096291672362' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4013987902602977820/posts/default/8248643096291672362'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4013987902602977820/posts/default/8248643096291672362'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kelleykforsythe.blogspot.com/2008/08/and-we-are-done.html' title='And We are done....'/><author><name>Kels</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15450413494138132247</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_j1CgHXyivyE/SODpk0G3qDI/AAAAAAAAE0A/z_23N7eW6JA/S220/043_43.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4013987902602977820.post-776194592343513571</id><published>2008-08-27T12:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-02T08:39:21.275-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Your kidding me right??</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(204,0,0);font-size:100%;" &gt;Yesterday this string of emails occured....&lt;br /&gt;1.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p class="EC_EC_MsoAutoSig" style="COLOR: rgb(204,0,0)"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:12;"&gt;I don’t know if you’ve seen this already, but it’s absolutely the most amazing thing I have ever seen. Send it to Kristen, I’m sure she’ll love it if she hasn’t seen it already.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div style="COLOR: rgb(204,0,0)"&gt;&lt;p class="EC_EC_MsoAutoSig"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"&gt;Adam M Haley&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="EC_EC_MsoAutoSig"&gt;&lt;p class="EC_EC_MsoAutoSig"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:12;"&gt;&lt;a href="mailto:adam@forefrontstaffing.com"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Bookman Old Style;font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:'Bookman Old Style';font-size:8;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Tahoma;"&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold;font-family:Tahoma;" &gt;From:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt; Leland, Erin [mailto:erin.leland@smithbarney.com]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="COLOR: rgb(204,0,0)"&gt;&lt;p class="EC_EC_MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Tahoma;font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Tahoma;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"&gt;Sent:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt; Tuesday, August 26, 2008 2:59 PM&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"&gt;To:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt; Briana Jacobs; Jenny Garrett&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"&gt;Subject:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p class="EC_EC_MsoNormal" style="COLOR: rgb(204,0,0)"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:12;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(204,0,0);font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:12;"&gt;Remember I told you guys about this at our last 5K - Race Judicata. Maybe get a kleenex before watching…&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(204,0,0);font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p style="MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in; COLOR: rgb(204,0,0)"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;What a TEAM ! ! ! ! ! !&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"&gt;A son asked his father, 'Dad, will you take part in a marathon with me?' The father who, despite having a heart condition, says 'Yes'. They went on to complete the marathon together. Father and son went on to join other marathons, the father always saying 'Yes' to his son's request of going through the race together. One day, the son asked his father, 'Dad, let's join the Ironman together.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To which, his father said 'Yes' .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For those who don't know, Ironman is the toughest triathlon ever. The race encompasses three endurance events of a 2.4 mile (3.86 kilometer) ocean swim, followed by a 112 mile (180.2&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="MARGIN-BOTTOM: 12pt; MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in; COLOR: rgb(204,0,0); MARGIN-RIGHT: 0in"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold;font-family:Arial;" &gt;kilometer) bike ride, and ending with a 26.2 mile (42.195 kilometer) marathon along the coast of the Big Island .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Father and son went on to complete the race together. View this:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.godtube.com/view_video.php?viewkey=8cf08faca5dd9ea45513" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Click Here to View the View of the duo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="EC_EC_MsoNormal" style="MARGIN-LEFT: 0.5in; COLOR: rgb(204,0,0)"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:12;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(204,0,0);font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Brush Script MT;"&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; FONT-STYLE: italicfont-family:'Brush Script MT';" &gt;Erin J. Leland&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(204,0,0);font-size:100%;" &gt;Registered Client Services Associate&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(204,0,0);font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(204,0,0);font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;2.I'm not trying to be rude. It is hard enough. Please don't send me emails sent to you from Erin Leland.... if for one second I stop thinking about it... there I go again... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I'm really sorry to have to say it but I am leaving in three minuites for student orientation and now my eyes are welling up and I feel a hole in the pit of my stomach.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(204,0,0);font-family:Tahoma;font-size:100%;"  &gt;But yes, I have seen it. I agree it is amazing. Not trying to be ungrateful, thank you for sharing&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(204,0,0);font-size:100%;" &gt;(me)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;font-size:100%;color:black;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:12;color:black;"&gt;&lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(204,0,0);font-size:100%;" &gt;You are unbelievable. Move on already.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, thats right.The man that four months ago was ready to marry me wrote that. Instead of just understanding... hmmm... her feelings are hurt maybe I should just say nothing...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's an idea. How about you not tell me how to feel. Maybe it is taking me longer. Maybe because I was/am madly in love with you. Maybe because unlike you I didn't want any of this. Maybe because I haven't had time to think about it working three jobs, getting ready to go to school, paying for my condo..... I feel as though I should be able to heal from probably the worst thing that will ever happen in my life in my own time. It is not like I call him and ralk to him about my feelings. I never say anything. Sice the day my FUTURE HUSBAND DUMPED me I wasn't even given the ounce of respect I think I deserve by having one conversation about the end of our marriage.&lt;br /&gt;I just don't understand how he could treat me so cruel. No we are not together anymore... but did you not love me for three years?Does he not have any feelings of friendship left for me? Was it too hard for him not to say something to INTENTIONALLY hurt me?&lt;br /&gt;I am truley disgusted. Here I am trying to become a better person and I see him doing things totally out of charcter... like hurting my feelings on purpose. Well, whatever. I am so done.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4013987902602977820-776194592343513571?l=kelleykforsythe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kelleykforsythe.blogspot.com/feeds/776194592343513571/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4013987902602977820&amp;postID=776194592343513571' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4013987902602977820/posts/default/776194592343513571'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4013987902602977820/posts/default/776194592343513571'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kelleykforsythe.blogspot.com/2008/08/your-kidding-me-right.html' title='Your kidding me right??'/><author><name>Kels</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15450413494138132247</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_j1CgHXyivyE/SODpk0G3qDI/AAAAAAAAE0A/z_23N7eW6JA/S220/043_43.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4013987902602977820.post-707358454715612431</id><published>2008-08-25T20:46:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-29T07:49:09.796-07:00</updated><title type='text'>To let go...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_j1CgHXyivyE/SODqpi4bx1I/AAAAAAAAE0c/4yhRoO9AQts/s1600-h/015_15.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5251455164973041490" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_j1CgHXyivyE/SODqpi4bx1I/AAAAAAAAE0c/4yhRoO9AQts/s320/015_15.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Everyday until September 12, when my 24 hour suicide watch begins I am going to take steps to begin to let go....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://www.kelley-adam.com/&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4013987902602977820-707358454715612431?l=kelleykforsythe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kelleykforsythe.blogspot.com/feeds/707358454715612431/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4013987902602977820&amp;postID=707358454715612431' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4013987902602977820/posts/default/707358454715612431'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4013987902602977820/posts/default/707358454715612431'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kelleykforsythe.blogspot.com/2008/08/to-let-go.html' title='To let go...'/><author><name>Kels</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15450413494138132247</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_j1CgHXyivyE/SODpk0G3qDI/AAAAAAAAE0A/z_23N7eW6JA/S220/043_43.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_j1CgHXyivyE/SODqpi4bx1I/AAAAAAAAE0c/4yhRoO9AQts/s72-c/015_15.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4013987902602977820.post-2590491340269929222</id><published>2008-08-23T21:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-23T21:33:08.522-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Who am I ???</title><content type='html'>Oral:&lt;br /&gt;My needs aren't important.  I don't know what I need.  Others' needs matter more.  I can't count on anyone.  Self- reliant.  I can't make it happen myself.  I can meet my own needs. Needs nourishment, support.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Phallic:&lt;br /&gt;I am my work.  I am what I do. I must produce.  I am loveable only if I excel.  What I accompish is more important than who I am. I must suceed.  I must try my best or something terrible will happen.  I will be alone unless I win.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pshycopath: ( Not the kind you think I am):&lt;br /&gt;Tough. Generous. I am better than others.  I am powerful, perhaps invincible.  Don't show vulnerability.  Take care if others.  Must pretend to be okay.  Can't be real self.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4013987902602977820-2590491340269929222?l=kelleykforsythe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kelleykforsythe.blogspot.com/feeds/2590491340269929222/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4013987902602977820&amp;postID=2590491340269929222' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4013987902602977820/posts/default/2590491340269929222'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4013987902602977820/posts/default/2590491340269929222'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kelleykforsythe.blogspot.com/2008/08/who-am-i.html' title='Who am I ???'/><author><name>Kels</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15450413494138132247</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_j1CgHXyivyE/SODpk0G3qDI/AAAAAAAAE0A/z_23N7eW6JA/S220/043_43.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4013987902602977820.post-6965839372026959665</id><published>2008-08-23T19:57:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-23T21:00:41.547-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Amazing...</title><content type='html'>My day started off kinda low...kinda weird. Last night in the beautiful Colorado , I had yet again a bad nightmare. Let me spell it out for you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The most I remember is:&lt;br /&gt;It was kinda like college... but we had a chance to preview our rooms. I knew which one I wanted, I knew it would be the only one that could make me happy. So, I remembered where it was and the way you got these rooms...involved a race.... so... they say go. I run to what I think is my room ( or I mean the room I want) and I cant find it to save my life. I am in and out of buildings and I think I know damn well where it is. So I finally figure out exactly where it is. It is directly above where I thought it was....and how do you get up to it? A ladder. Not a stable ladder but a rope ladder. great.  So I climb this ladder, I get to the top. I find myself at a place; at the top of a ladder...PETRIFIED....&lt;br /&gt;the ladder was shaking, and it was being held only by a rope. It was reallyhigh, and I was at the top, and I didn't know what to do.The rope was shaking and I was afraid to jump over the top. Which was like jumping into a tree fort, but over this box....&lt;br /&gt;I look behind me, and I see my dear friend Maty.  Telling me, " You can do it. Just jump. I know you can do it."  I look in front of me, above me. I see Adam. Reaching out his hand, telling me he will help me, that I can do it. I don't move.  In my mind I know I can not.  I look back and forth, and I finally decide I'm gonna do it.  There is a box in the way, next to Adam, and he is at the top, the place I know I need to go. I tell him to move it. He does. I jump. I think I made it .....but my dream morphs into him and erin.... and I think.... this is real life. I wake up in tears.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so goes my AMAZING day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I get up, and we go to the farmers market,One of my favorite things to do.  We then venture to the pool, where we read and relax... god knows I need this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then the best part. Kristy gives me a masssge. I feel things lifting from my mind. I don't know where they are going but they are going away from my head...and for a moment I am peaceful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is funny how someone can be your best friend for your entire "important" life... and you never know why, or when you will need them.... but then you do, and you didn't even realize. So I told Kristy about the dream...what does it mean???? that is the question???&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I am reaching for Adam... I need something.But what is it that I need? Well, I need to get over something right?  I need to get over him... but I'm afraid, I think I can't... it seems as though I think I need his help... and that is not something i am getting. If anything, Adam is hindering my healing process by not being willing...since the day he broke up with me..... to discuss anything :(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But somehow subconsciously I know my friends are there... there helping me supporting me... I know Maty is, I know he is behind me, and I know everyone else is... trying to help me.  Kristy asked me tonight  what she needed to do. I said I didn't know... I asked if she could bring my boyfriend back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know  need something. I just don't know what it is. We then took the coversation to... "Why do you think you became the way you are".... I have many answers for this. The fact that I was taught it wasn't okay to cry became one of them. It also became apparent I had morphed into a different person the second I stopped letting people walk all over me.... but I took it too far, Instead of stopping, and standing up for myself in a polite manner, I became something... some one... who I don't want to be. I became a bitch, I can see that now. Now that it's too late.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4013987902602977820-6965839372026959665?l=kelleykforsythe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kelleykforsythe.blogspot.com/feeds/6965839372026959665/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4013987902602977820&amp;postID=6965839372026959665' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4013987902602977820/posts/default/6965839372026959665'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4013987902602977820/posts/default/6965839372026959665'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kelleykforsythe.blogspot.com/2008/08/amazing.html' title='Amazing...'/><author><name>Kels</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15450413494138132247</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_j1CgHXyivyE/SODpk0G3qDI/AAAAAAAAE0A/z_23N7eW6JA/S220/043_43.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4013987902602977820.post-5030215195410208605</id><published>2008-08-22T09:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-29T07:52:24.485-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Colorado!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_j1CgHXyivyE/SODrd0VkOKI/AAAAAAAAE0k/Ux0rZdtMP6M/s1600-h/colorado.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5251456063011829922" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_j1CgHXyivyE/SODrd0VkOKI/AAAAAAAAE0k/Ux0rZdtMP6M/s320/colorado.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So here I am in sunny Boulder Colorado.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I found myself a little sad on the plane. Maybe because the last time I was here was with Adam. I often find myself a little depressed when flying. It is mostly when I am landing or taking off... I like to look out the window and I see cars and houses. I wonder about the people that live in them. As Kristy and I drove home from the airport I looked at every house. I want to know about other peoples lives. I wonder about them getting up in the morning and going to work. I think that I think it is surreal or something because to me... I am on vacation... so it is hard for me to understand that people live real lives in places where I go for pure enjoyment. I wonder about their lives.. I wonder if their lives are easier. I want to to understand peoples cultures. I am aware you can go just hours from home and peoples cultures are different.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everytime I go somewhere I want to move there. I think this is something I learned from my father. He always wanted to move anywhere we went. I always think somehow I will be different or my life or something will change. And maybe it will... maybe being in a place I don't like plays into my poor attitude. I don't really hate Chicago as much anymore. I have begun to accept it as my life. I have tried to embrace it. I do love it, I just hate the weather :(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It does make me wonder though, visiting my two favorite places ( Boulder and Los Angeles) I wonder why someone would chose to live in the midwest... in a city... thats dirty and the best sights there are to offer is the sears tower...when there are things like this in this world. When you can wake up and look at the mountains and the ocean...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4013987902602977820-5030215195410208605?l=kelleykforsythe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kelleykforsythe.blogspot.com/feeds/5030215195410208605/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4013987902602977820&amp;postID=5030215195410208605' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4013987902602977820/posts/default/5030215195410208605'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4013987902602977820/posts/default/5030215195410208605'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kelleykforsythe.blogspot.com/2008/08/colorado.html' title='Colorado!!!'/><author><name>Kels</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15450413494138132247</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_j1CgHXyivyE/SODpk0G3qDI/AAAAAAAAE0A/z_23N7eW6JA/S220/043_43.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_j1CgHXyivyE/SODrd0VkOKI/AAAAAAAAE0k/Ux0rZdtMP6M/s72-c/colorado.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4013987902602977820.post-8260244850388888948</id><published>2008-08-15T20:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-15T21:10:27.002-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My name is Allen Moe, stay thirsty my friends</title><content type='html'>I absolutley love my new roommate.  There is nothing that can do him justice except a list of reasons why he is fabulous&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*  He is going to start drinking Dos Equis SOLELY because he thinks the guy in the commercial is a pimp.  He talks about this multiple times a day,  He has now decided when he introduces himself he is going to follow his name with " Stay thirsty my friends"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*He is like the real life dog whisperer. He has taught Dolce things in 2 weeks that we have been trying to teach her for a year and a half.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* He loves to cook. He cooks healthy dinners everynight and no matter what time I get home he wakes up and tells me what he made and where I can find my portion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* He has the hottest, most fabulous girlfriend. She is like one of my new best friends already. She is so consideate, sincerely interested, honest and real.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*We go grocery shopping like an old married couple. We discuss which things we should buy. We have "old school ( think: frank the tank) weekends" ie... We might go to home depot, I don't know, I don't know if we will have enough time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* I randomly come home to my laundry washed and folded on my bed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* He refuses to ask anymore questions about Adam...but still admits to loving him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*He likes to keep fresh flowers in the house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*He refers to smoking cigarettes as "blowing fags" he swears hopey will know exactly what hes talking about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* He has developed a plan  to tailgate in our front yard ( think: sidewalk in front of our house) and put the tv in the window, just so we can drink all day at our house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't even go on.... there are so many more things. He is the greatest roomie ever:)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4013987902602977820-8260244850388888948?l=kelleykforsythe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kelleykforsythe.blogspot.com/feeds/8260244850388888948/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4013987902602977820&amp;postID=8260244850388888948' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4013987902602977820/posts/default/8260244850388888948'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4013987902602977820/posts/default/8260244850388888948'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kelleykforsythe.blogspot.com/2008/08/my-name-is-allen-moe-stay-thirsty-my.html' title='My name is Allen Moe, stay thirsty my friends'/><author><name>Kels</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15450413494138132247</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_j1CgHXyivyE/SODpk0G3qDI/AAAAAAAAE0A/z_23N7eW6JA/S220/043_43.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4013987902602977820.post-2070657068595551386</id><published>2008-08-15T20:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-25T13:28:03.503-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Where are my magnets?</title><content type='html'>&lt;blockquote&gt;When you're dreaming with a broken heart&lt;br /&gt;The waking up is the hardest part&lt;br /&gt;You roll outta bed and down on your knees&lt;br /&gt;And for the moment you can hardly breathe&lt;br /&gt;Wondering was she really here?&lt;br /&gt;Is she standing in my room?&lt;br /&gt;No she's not, 'cause she's gone, gone, gone, gone, gone....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is time I take my life back.  Since I watched it fall apart just four months ago, I feel like I was standing outside it, watching, like a bad car accident.  I have started each week telling myself, ok this is gonna be the week. Im gonna get my ass back to the gym, I'm gonna detox and stop drinking, I'm gonna get my shit together. But then night after night I find myself out drinking, talking about my sadness, waking up with a hang over...&lt;br /&gt;It never makes me feel any better, It never even makes me forget. How could it.  I cannot forget.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;:He put her out like the burnin' end of a midnight cigarette&lt;br /&gt;  Hebroke her heart she spent her whole life tryin' to forget&lt;br /&gt;We watched her drink her pain away a little at a time&lt;br /&gt;But she never could get drunk enough to get him off her mind&lt;br /&gt;Until the night:&lt;br /&gt;Maybe Jessica was right. I cam home for lunch today and immediately noticed something in my house missing.  I noticed cards and magnets missing from my refrigerator.  To be perfectly clear, these magnets were my save the date magnets and these cards were cards I gave Adam when we were still in love... So, after asking me many times to take them down Jessica felt it was her duty to take them down herself. She was right. It got me to thinking...&lt;br /&gt;It really has been hard for me to wake up everyday.  It has been a challenge to want to get out of bed.&lt;br /&gt;That needs to change.  The first step is to stop the drinking. To get back in the gym... to start to feel like a real person again... to remember who I am.  My behavior is unacceptable...and furthermore it isn't helping anything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4013987902602977820-2070657068595551386?l=kelleykforsythe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kelleykforsythe.blogspot.com/feeds/2070657068595551386/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4013987902602977820&amp;postID=2070657068595551386' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4013987902602977820/posts/default/2070657068595551386'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4013987902602977820/posts/default/2070657068595551386'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kelleykforsythe.blogspot.com/2008/08/where-are-my-magnets.html' title='Where are my magnets?'/><author><name>Kels</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15450413494138132247</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_j1CgHXyivyE/SODpk0G3qDI/AAAAAAAAE0A/z_23N7eW6JA/S220/043_43.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4013987902602977820.post-4546073084183191828</id><published>2008-08-11T11:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-11T12:02:29.731-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My Godchild</title><content type='html'>One of my best friends in the entire world is having a baby.&lt;br /&gt;I have been asked to be the God mother. I AM SO EXCITED!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really don't think I can wait another 5 months to meet this child.  We don't know yet if it is boy or girl. I still intend on referring to the baby as Chloe.. until I am corrected.&lt;br /&gt;I am so honored that Liz would ask me. This is a huge responsibility that is being bestowed upon me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want nothing more than to love Chloe, with all my heart. To teach her right from wrong. To teach her to become her own person. To watch her grow into a beautiful woman.  To be there for her, for times she doesn't feel she can talk to her mother or father.  As much as I would hope this didn't happen, I know it does. We all do.  So many children don't have that option of another adult to share their questions, problems or feelings with and that is sad.  I want to be her voice of reason, I want to explain to her why her mother and father are right when she doesn't want to believe it. I want to be there for her at each bump in her road. Each time the world makes her cry, each time she is so happy she could burst.  Evey triumph, every let down. I want to be there. I want her to know there is always someone there, supporting her, believing in her, praying for her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am so excited to meet this little bundle of joy. I just can't wait.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4013987902602977820-4546073084183191828?l=kelleykforsythe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kelleykforsythe.blogspot.com/feeds/4546073084183191828/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4013987902602977820&amp;postID=4546073084183191828' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4013987902602977820/posts/default/4546073084183191828'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4013987902602977820/posts/default/4546073084183191828'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kelleykforsythe.blogspot.com/2008/08/my-godchild.html' title='My Godchild'/><author><name>Kels</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15450413494138132247</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_j1CgHXyivyE/SODpk0G3qDI/AAAAAAAAE0A/z_23N7eW6JA/S220/043_43.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4013987902602977820.post-1684351656766163185</id><published>2008-08-07T15:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-11T11:12:33.710-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What do you see when you look at me?</title><content type='html'>I am a very nice, compassionate person. I care about my friends. I care about people. I don't always portray that very well.&lt;br /&gt;I am strong.  Sometimes too strong.  I was taught it is not ok to cry. I do. No one knows I do. I love people so much. There are people I think about everyday of my life. It usually makes me sad. I don't always portray that very well.&lt;br /&gt;I am smart. I make bad decisions sometimes.  I have a good head on my shoulders.I am giggly. I don't always portray that very well.&lt;br /&gt;I am determined.  I have no idea what I want.  I felt more secure years ago when I knew exactly who I was. Even though I was wrong.  I never give up though. I don't even know how I make it through the day sometimes. I don't always portray that very well.&lt;br /&gt;I am beautiful.I don't always believe it. I am self conscious.  Sometimes I wonder if I am more beautiful on the outside than the inside. I don't always portray that very well.&lt;br /&gt;I am careful.  I follow the rules. Sometimes I think I push my views on other people. I realize this is wrong. I don't always portray that very well.&lt;br /&gt;I try to look inside myself more.As of recent I have found myself looking in the mirror and asking" who are you". I know I've done things wrong.  I am trying to rectify those things. I don't always portray that very well.&lt;br /&gt;I believe in myself. I am my worst critic.  I don't know if I am on the right path.  I want to take things back I have said or done in my past.  I think I am a good person. I don't always portray that very well.&lt;br /&gt;I have high hopes for my future. I am still holding on to the belief that somethings are gonna happen. I know they won't.  I believe my karma may be back in check. I don't know what I've done to deserve it. I wish I did.  I don't always portray that very well.&lt;br /&gt;I believe in God.  I want to believe more than I do.  Sometimes I am afraid of my beliefs. I don't always portray that very well.&lt;br /&gt;I love my family. It annoys me sometimes talking to them on the phone. I would be nowhere without them. I think my mom is amazing. I don't always portray that very well....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am finding it very difficult to redefine myself.  I am trying to figure out who I am. Figure it out without being Mrs. Adam Haley, without being Adams girlfriend or fiance. Ive spent so long being that I now realize. I have to decide who I am, decide who I want to be. I am, again, working so hard at changing my life and attitude and I realize I can take my life anywhere I want at this point.  So when I look in the mirror... at myself... who do I want to see looking back at me?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4013987902602977820-1684351656766163185?l=kelleykforsythe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kelleykforsythe.blogspot.com/feeds/1684351656766163185/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4013987902602977820&amp;postID=1684351656766163185' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4013987902602977820/posts/default/1684351656766163185'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4013987902602977820/posts/default/1684351656766163185'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kelleykforsythe.blogspot.com/2008/08/what-do-you-see-when-you-look-at-me.html' title='What do you see when you look at me?'/><author><name>Kels</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15450413494138132247</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_j1CgHXyivyE/SODpk0G3qDI/AAAAAAAAE0A/z_23N7eW6JA/S220/043_43.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4013987902602977820.post-369875611915446146</id><published>2008-08-07T15:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-29T07:59:43.328-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I want to be who you want me to be</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_j1CgHXyivyE/SODszEWDvzI/AAAAAAAAE0s/NUiYecez0dU/s1600-h/049_49.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5251457527597743922" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_j1CgHXyivyE/SODszEWDvzI/AAAAAAAAE0s/NUiYecez0dU/s320/049_49.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;But I want to do it for myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to be happy again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More so, I want to be the person I remember I was. I want to be optimistic, I want to look at the world with pink colored glasses.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think when time after time things didn't go how I thought they would I began to believe it was better to assume things would go poorly. This way I didn't get let down, time after time. I began to see the bad in people over the good in people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have spent the last four months re inventing my way of thinking. It hasn't been difficult, it has actually been enjoyable. I have talked to God, I have listened to others thoughts and oponions... I have looked for the good in everyone and FOUND IT... It has been amazing...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I never use to take the time to see the beauty in things. Not in the world, not in others. I thought something like sunsets were just a waste of time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to believe in myself again. I want to know who I am. I want to be secure in that. I know Adam is never coming back. I still want to be the person who he saw. I know he fell in love with me once. I have to believe he was in love with me for some of the time we were together. I want him to be able to be proud of the person that I am....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to be proud of the person that I am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“For beautiful eyes, look for the good in others; for beautiful lips, speak only words of kindness; and for poise, walk with the knowledge that you are never alone.”Audrey Hepburn&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4013987902602977820-369875611915446146?l=kelleykforsythe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kelleykforsythe.blogspot.com/feeds/369875611915446146/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4013987902602977820&amp;postID=369875611915446146' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4013987902602977820/posts/default/369875611915446146'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4013987902602977820/posts/default/369875611915446146'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kelleykforsythe.blogspot.com/2008/08/i-want-to-be-who-you-want-me-to-be.html' title='I want to be who you want me to be'/><author><name>Kels</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15450413494138132247</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_j1CgHXyivyE/SODpk0G3qDI/AAAAAAAAE0A/z_23N7eW6JA/S220/043_43.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_j1CgHXyivyE/SODszEWDvzI/AAAAAAAAE0s/NUiYecez0dU/s72-c/049_49.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4013987902602977820.post-5276294067248068113</id><published>2008-08-07T14:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-07T15:11:31.858-07:00</updated><title type='text'>New</title><content type='html'>I never really thought I would be a blogger. To be honest I really just don't have the time.  In the midst of the most tragic summer of my life I have found I have some things to say and no one to say them to.  I have found I have all these thoughts and they never seem to come out.  There are things I randomly think, and have forgotten by the time I could get them out to the one person who I pay to have to listen to all my thoughts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Would I ever have thought I would end up here? No.  I have had the most perfect charmed life.  I have been happy and sad, mad and glad.  I have rarely been devastated, and now I find myself in a constant state of devastation.  There is something eerie about knowing you single handedly ruined your entire future. There is something more eerie wondering if it was for your own good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was recently engaged to the love of my life.  Forsure, there is no question in my mind. He was the one. He is the one.  My mood is not hopeful. We will never be again. This I know.  I am finding it very difficult to let go... but somewhere in my mind I know it was the right thing.  When he broke up with me, there were two reasons given. #1:I fought with him a lot.  I don't blame him for breaking up with me.  Everyone thinks I shouldn't be blaming myself...everyone says he is an idiot.  I think "everyone" is wrong. #2:  He needed to get his life together.  After this convo no more was said.  Talks were not allowed to be had.I think this was the hardest part... and continues to be. hence...the blog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I lay in bed at night and it flashes through my head the days I was so happy. The days I would look over at my sleeping fiance and smile to my self.  The times I couldn't sleep and would just lay and listen to him breathe. The feeling of complete and utter happiness, complete safety, complete trust and unimaginable love.  So how could this union have ended I wonder. I know why.  I kept things to myself, problems.  We never fought... never once unless I was drunk and decided to say what I thought needed to be said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was angry. I was mad that my fiance never once bought me dinner. I was mad that he freely spent the money we both worked so hard for.... but I didn't say that. I said "my" money.  Maybe it was my money, well, it was. But we were getting married, it should have been ours.  He was trying so hard, it wasn't that he was taking advantage of me... but I paid for everything we did, and everything he did. He would go out with his friends and spend 400 dollars in a weekend.... a weekend I was working... but was it worth it? I say yes.  My father has actually "yelled" at me since this confession.  Money isn't everything, that I have learned.  Waking up and laying in bed and giggling... that is worth it. Someone who can actually be your best friend...someone who can actually be your whole life...that is worth it.  And that is what I had.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where did it go wrong?  I know... I wish I didn't but I do.  It was probably the day we moved in together. Things got out of control....  things got too serious, then we bought a house... and things got too serious, then we got engaged....and things got too serious.Things became monotone... I became his mother and a house wife and our life became about paying bills and not about loving eachother.  We weren't ready to buy a house. I see this now.  We should have been just enoying our lives together. We didn't need to be engaged...   If I had things my way, we could just date again. We could both have our own houses and just be ok with being in love.  If I had it my way we would NEVER get married. We would live the rest of our lives together giggling about things eachother said, things only we got.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He has made himself very clear that he is over it. Already. and that hurts too... is it that I was that insignificant? or that he hated me that much before we broke up that it was just a relief to be away from me.  How is it that I still cry everyday and he just doesn't care anymore?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know. I am moving on, I am. I am moving on because I have to. He is moving on because he wants to... and maybe I just don't know how to do it as well.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4013987902602977820-5276294067248068113?l=kelleykforsythe.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kelleykforsythe.blogspot.com/feeds/5276294067248068113/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4013987902602977820&amp;postID=5276294067248068113' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4013987902602977820/posts/default/5276294067248068113'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4013987902602977820/posts/default/5276294067248068113'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kelleykforsythe.blogspot.com/2008/08/new.html' title='New'/><author><name>Kels</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15450413494138132247</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_j1CgHXyivyE/SODpk0G3qDI/AAAAAAAAE0A/z_23N7eW6JA/S220/043_43.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
