This blog is quite literally about Baggage or Luggage. Perhaps it's also metaphorically symbolizing a power struggle between me and my parents and perhaps just perhaps, me growing up and being obedient. I'm venting and struggling to put aside my own opinions act like a fool and obey my parents. Okay, perhaps I'm being a little melodramatic, I'm not a fool and I don't always act like a fool. Most of the time if I am acting like a fool, it has nothing to do with my parents but entirely of my own doing.

My parents' only request is for me to bring home these 2 ancient luggages. You know the ones that are a rectangular horizontal beast on 4 squiggly, squeaky wheels. The ones that look like colorful boxy St. Bernards (the dog) even including the "leash" for you to pull and tug it in the direction of choice. And I'm struggling real hard with this request. I don't want to lug the beast--one luggage semi-filled with clothes, books, shoes inside another luggage--I could just imagine myself tripping over myself just to get it safely to my destination. I guess I don't want to look like a fool. Yes, I'm self-conscious at times--especially when I'm returning home to the one place and with those people that criticize me directly and indirectly all of those 17 years. And why would they want those 2 obsolete beasts one would ask? Why, it's because of storage. The stereotypical Asian in them, cannot let anything go to waste and must surely recycle and find some use for obsolete items. So what are the luggages going to convert into? Storage. I'm sorry, WHAT!?! Wouldn't plastic containers serve better for storage than luggages? I don't understand their logic, and if I don't understand their logic, I don't know why I should endure the--maximum of 1 hour of pain--for them. Okay, I'll admit it, I'm being an ungrateful brat. I should just do what they say regardless of how I'll look, if I love them, that means sometimes risking looking like a fool to obey them. Love means lugging luggage, no, love means making a fool out of yourself to make the other happy.

So I'm going back home, first time in 2 years. And before I even depart from SLC, I'm starting to feel like my old self again. The same old 17 year old that left the island all stoic--not hugging or no exchanges of "I-Love-You's" to her family--only to cry on the entirely plane right to Utah. I'm feel like that girl all over again, when I know that I've grown and change and I've become more of a lady. Someone who's more certain of who she is, what she wants, and what's truly important. Yet, most of the time, when it comes to my parents especially when we're just talking about me and them, I feel as if I'm back to that girl all over again. *Sigh* And I don't want to be that girl. I don't want to be insecure about the way I look, the things I do and say. I don't want to feel as if I'll never be good enough and measure up to my sister or anyone else. I don't want to be that girl!

And I'm not that girl, it's just that sometimes, they bring it out in me. I have a theory that we are different version of oursevles around different people. For example: The Boy brings out the best in me, the best in the cynic, the best in the optimistic romantic, the best in the intellect, the best in everything. Whereas the parents on the other hand, well that's another story, but most of the time, it's the worst in me. Unless, they're venting to me and wanting me to theorize about my teenage brother's horrid habits. Sometimes, I wonder despite how much one changes, can one truly change who they are or how they are perceive or how they might act around a certain people? Because sometimes, I really do feel like that 17 year old girl again.

I hate being this girl. I hate being the overly paranoid, prone to jealous boughs of tears type of girlfriend. And just for the record, I'm barely this girl, despite the numerous boys that I've dated, and if I am this girl, well, I usually have good reason to be.SA little bit of history for you: the two boys that I truly liked before The Current Boy, they both cheated on me and still claimed that they love me. And I'm not trying to rally sympathy points, but everything bad that you don't want with a boy, has happened to me. The physical abuse, the emotional infidelity, stalkings, solicitations, even the rape. So suffice to say, now I'm a little cynical towards men. (Sometimes, people do horrible things in the name of love, and I understand now that love is perfect but people are not and sometimes, their ways of loving you is definitely not perfect.) Anyways, back to the dirty little secret at hand. I SNOOPED. I checked the Boy's email behind his back which lead me to more overly paranoid behavior and on the verge of jealous tears. I'm not going to try and justify my actions, but let me try and carry you through my rationalization.

Living with the boy this past week has brought me to certain realization that I was willing to camouflage away under the carpets of "giddiness", "business", and "dramas of life and the military". But now that we're whisked away on an R&R, there are certain things that I simply can't deny any longer. I can't deny that we have different values and sometime it seems we have different priorities in life. I can't deny that other people and their opinions do indeed affect and influence me and my outlook despite how much I want to believe that it's is just the two of us in paradise. I can't deny that even though I want to be with him so badly, I don't know if I should be. I can't deny that I'm am so afraid to lose him, that I might lose hope in us, for one or both of us to give up fighting because of the trials that we face. I can't deny that I am still broken in some ways and still hang on to my cynical views at times despite how he tries to bring out the romantic/optimist in me. I can't deny that even though he brings out the best in me and he's the best guy I've ever known, and the only man I've ever love, that I'm so afraid that I can't have him.

He is having family problems and he has little desire and hardly any motivation to patch things up even though his brother and parents have reached out to him time and time again. He is currently investigating my religion, but somehow seems to only be doing it to appease me and isn't putting forth any effort outside of the face time with the missionary to think or pray about things. (Another secret confession: perhaps I could also do my part and help him out a little more and lower my expectations. Simply support him and provide every opportunity for him to learn and decide on his own.) I don't need him to convert and I don't want him to convert unless he believes in it. But there are certain implications and consequences that comes with marrying a non-member and I'm uncertain if I'm willing to take some of the spiritual risks involve. (We've talked about marriage and he has confessed on more than one occassion that he wants to marry me. He calls me his wife at times and calls my parents "Mom" and "Dad" respectively) Already, I'm noticing the church members and some of the people that I hold dear to my heart giving me those sympathetic faces and telling me that they'll pray for me and The Boy, as if I was dying from some sort of disease. And I'm sure that it's a nice gesture and perhaps if I wasn't in my position, I would acknowledge that prayers are good, but I'm sick of validating my relationship to everyone just because he's not of my faith.

I had the opportunity to snooped tonight and to write this long confession is because out of the 2 weekends that we have on this R&R, The Boy has decided to take both the Friday and Saturday night of the last weekend we have together to spend with his friends clubbing and drinking. And I know that in the big picture, it's not an outrageous idea to spend 2 nights out of 15 days with your friends, but this is my blog and I can regurgitate my crazy thoughts if I see fit. Okay, I'm getting a little worked up for once stupid reasons. I fully acknowledge the unreasonable girly stereotypes that I'm currently displaying. Anyways, tonight, he's out with his friends at a 21 and over club. Drinking and partying. And I wouldn't mind it so much, if it wasn't for one slight glitch. I'm not even mad or worried about the drinking and I would fully accept him if he came home to me completely piss drunk. It's partially the other girls that they'll be checking out, maybe dancing, maybe flirting with. But it's mostly just one girl: The Nice Perfect Girl-Next-Door. When he got an email from her with her phone number attached, her asking to meet up that she used to like him, he confessed that she used to like him. (It's not the past girlfriends and flings that you need to worry about, it's about the one that got away, and I don't know if she's the one that got away.) And the thing that makes me fear, is not that he'll cheat on me. At least, that's not my biggest fear--though my cynical side does doubt at times--my biggest fear is that he'll realize that she might be a better fit for him than me. She looks like me, she's really sweet, eager/friendly, and she doesn't have religious limitations, plus she probably doesn't freak out as easily as I do.

The snooping has led me to find out that he told her that he'll be at the club tonight with his buddies and she's already going with another girlfriend. He knows that I can't go because I'm not 21 but more importantly, I'm uncomfortable with him hanging out with her but now I can't say that I know. I can't call him on his act. All I can do is kiss him good bye, hiding the small hot tear sliding down the side of my cheek and make him promise not to do anything to deliberate hurt me. And just before, you start making snide remarks about The Boy. He did notice that I was freaking out, and he did offer to cancel his plans. But I'm trying to be logical, I'm trying to build up my trust, and I'm trying to love him and expand my heart beyond my paranoid views, so I told him to go. I just wish that he won't flirt or dance with her. I hope he doesn't let me down and hurt me. And I hope that in the long run, we'll work out. I'm going to tell him the truth behind my thoughts about The Nice Perfect Girl-Next-Door--I already confessed all my other fears to him earlier during the week which left us crying in each other's arms--though I'm uncertain if I should confess about the snooping, plus he shouldn't leave his email lying around ;)

It's 2 in the morning and I literally can't go to bed. Do you know how hard it is to try and accustom to sleeping without The Boy again? It's been 15 relative days in paradise besides the rainy weather in Hawaii and the occasional bouts of dramas from family members on both sides of the relationship. And now I just miss him. I miss falling asleep in his arms. I miss taking afternoon naps or sleeping in till literally after noon time. Yes, the number one thing we did this vacation is sleep. The Boy justifies that when we're on vacation time, we get to sleep 14 to 16 hours compared to the average requirement for decent sleep of 8 hours for him and 6 hours for me. So while he sleeps, I take pictures and while I place my head on his chest, listening to his symphonic range of snores as my breathe/head raises and falls with each breathe he takes. I simply just love him.

I wish he would give me a call right now. I wish I wasn't sleeping when he called earlier. So I could have talk to him longer and tell him that I miss him like crazy and that this next month with playing catch-up with school and work plus me going through withdrawals from him, I might just need another vacation to recover from the backlash of this past vacation. I wish I could ask him the silly mundane questions about his flights, his layover, his itinerary once he reaches Afghanistan. I wish I could tell him that I'm sending him a package tomorrow so that he'll get it once he reach Afghanistan. I also wish I could tell him that he can tell me any problems that he has with his family--things that he hasn't already told me--and that even though I can't solve everything, I can help him bear the burden and besides if you don't tell your person your problems, how else would they get a chance to show you that they love you? And that no matter what the circumstance/dilemma is, we'll tackle/conquer/survive/endure it together and we'll be alright in the end. I wish I could tell him that I have loved every single moment that I've spend with him and that I can't wait to start spending the rest of my life with him. I wish I could have told him that he's my future hubby and I'll follow him to the ends of the earth and into the dark. I wish I wasn't so sleepy earlier that I couldn't carry on a conversation and now all I can do is lay awake and think of him. (Don't worry, everything that I wish I could have told him, I've already told him before.)

Now it seems like the one thought/question in my mind is that what's the happiest and/or most romantic day of your life? And how does the events/experiences of that day reflects you? And it all boils down to The Boy. I know now with a certainty that he is the one that I want to marry.

A chance. A chance to be accepted for who they are--the good, the bad, the ugly, and sometimes crazy--a chance to be love and a chance for them to fight for what/who they love. That's all anyone ever asks for.