Y2kk Update: Wow, I haven't written since way back in August? And to be honest, I don't know why I haven't had the will to just sit down at my desk and force myself to write out my thoughts. I get lazier and more lethargical by the year, it seems. I guess there are a lot of possible reasons why, starting from the fact that my family and I moved between houses beginning from around that time period. It took a while for me after that to find the impetus to break out the old computer I always use for my download site, but even after I finally did dust the cobwebs off, I still left my keyboard and thoughts to gather dust. Why is that? I used to love to write, even if I never had an audience. What happened?...

I had lived in that old house of mine for twenty whole years, with our anniversary date being back in November to make it official. I remember when I was just a little child way back in Grade 2; as soon as that for sale sign went up on our first lawn, when we had made it official that we were moving from our tiny first home to the one that just now turned twenty years old, I just sat there staring at the sign through the window for what seemed like hours until I was too tired to stare anymore. Things have obviously changed a lot since then, even though I still have a lot emotionally invested in that old home of ours. Every time I go back to it (since we've been unable to sell it for the past six months now, unfortunately), I just get the feeling that I'm still more comfortable there in those hallways and cramped little bedrooms than I am in this new, lavish house meant to impress. That's not to say I don't feel at home here at the new bungalow we own; home is where your family is, afterall. It's just not the same though, you know? Not for the next 20 years at least, it won't be...

So yeah, I guess I've experienced a lot of tough feelings buried deep down inside when it comes to this move between cities and houses. Maybe because of that, I just didn't feel like writing for all these past months. I mean, I didn't even move over this website computer of mine until two or three months after the initial move, simply because this old desktop of mine was my final symbol of switching between the two homes. Ever since we moved here, things have been up and down for me, to say the least. It's not like I haven't had any good memories here yet, as it's always great to have my brother over for dinners more often, and my friend from Charlotte visiting over the New Year's holidays was great as well. At the same time, mowing this massive lawn, constantly shovelling the goddam driveway, and vacuuming all the god-annoying dark, hardwood floors routinely gets to me on a weekly basis. I also now have the unfortunate memory and guilt of actually allowing my grandma to fall to this cold, hard floor at Christmas, which I still haven't forgiven or forgotten to this very day...

I'm happy at least that my grandmother wasn't harmed. Whenever I still think back to that moment, I can still remember time almost freezing as she began to fall. It's not like I've ever lived through a situation where my life flashed before my eyes, but when you see someone you care about get hurt like that, one can't help but feel a million thoughts rush through the brain all at once yet the damn body is unable to act quickly enough to any of the ideas. At the time, I was distracted because of a semi-argument with my sister we had over the renovations we're doing to the basement in this new house, except it wasn't really a discussion about the basement but rather a transferred statement of loyalty and dedication to the family...

My sister had decided to leave the country in order to first study her MBA in the United States, and now she and her husband are packing up to live in Asia for maybe the next 10 or 15 years of their lives if all goes to their master plan. Of course I was bitter at her, and of course I was upset that she was throwing it all back in my face. So when I was helping my grandma put on her shoes to brave the freezing, Canadian winter outside, I had a momentary lapse in judgment when holding my grandma up on the stool and before I even knew what had happened, I was staring at my grandma as she was face first on the floor, terrified that she had hurt her head or was bleeding from the mouth. I don't remember the last time I was this worried, maybe it was when my grandma got pneumonia and was at the brink of death, perhaps. Call this selfish or egotistical if you will, but what truly shook me to the bone this time around was that it wasn't fate that put my grandma in this position, but it was rather my negligence and goddam stupidity. If she indeed had gotten hurt, it would be my fault and my fault alone. And for the past few weeks, I've still been trying to come to grips with that. I'm thankful my grandma turned out to be fine; she wasn't cut anywhere and the fall was too short to have concussed her brain. Still, I don't want something like that to ever happen again to the grandma I love and care so much for. She forgave me, but I don't know when I will...

Beyond that fearful moment, one that I know I'm being too hard on myself for but I just can't shake the image out of my mind, I guess Christmas turned out pretty good overall. It was great having the entire family over and we all shared a great Christmas dinner together. As the first born son of the household, it was my duty to make the opening speeches apparently on both Christmas Eve and Christmas evening dinner, and unfortunately I flubbed and sputtered through whatever lines I had somewhat put together at the back of my head. Not like it really matters though, I'm not there to impress others but rather just try to make my parents proud of who I am and what our family stands for. And what was most important about Christmas, besides my sister and brother-in-law being there with us for the last Christmas in who knows how many potential years, was that we also invited my brother's soon to be in-laws to share Christmas dinner with us as well. It was the same at Canadian Thanksgiving, minus my sister being there of course, where we invited my brother's fiancee's parents for the first time and everyone had a great experience getting along. It really felt like our family was expanding and it really felt like the spirit of Christmas was with us. I just hope we share the same feelings next year as well, even if my sister is living faraway in Singapore or wherever, and even if this family is all growing older and slowly growing apart...

I actually wanted to write download updates after Canadian Thanksgiving, American Thanksgiving (when my sister came home for the first time in months), and Christmas dinner. It's been a long and painful year when it comes to my family, first by having to deal with the aftermath feelings of my grandfather's death, then with my grandma falling deathly ill with pneumonia, and finally with my mother having one of those terrifying nosebleeds that kept her in the hospital for two weeks or more. After everything we had been through for the past year, including the big move from our home of twenty years to this new house and new community, it was nice to hold a few housewarming parties and get family truly together for what may be the last time until my brother's own wedding this coming August. After every single one of these family gatherings and events, I wanted to write about how I felt about my sister leaving, how I still missed my cousin who has to spend all his time at Queen's University in another city, and how things just won't be the same once my brother gets married (even though I am so very happy and grateful that he found someone to love the rest of his life with). Yet of course, at every single one of these family gatherings, whether I was making the speech or the toast or whatnot, I still felt truly alone. I felt so alone that the only woman that I ever fell in love with was not there by my side, and in the end she probably never will be...

This was also the year that I started back at university, and part of the reason why I did so was to try to find the next girl of my dreams that could make me forget all about the woman that I fell in love with. And believe me, going to York University, there were a ton of Asian and Chinese girls there that definitely caught my attention, if only at first glance. I still remember this one girl in my Financial Accounting class who wore an adorable skirt and shoes on the first day, but she just didn't look or feel the same starting from the very day after. I also remember in the cafeteria this gorgeous lady in a tight white blouse and cute little track pants, and I didn't have to guts to say anything to her then and there. But the next time I found her, while obviously her body was still sensational, there was just something about her smile and face that didn't seem so beautiful to me anymore. I know I'm a complete pussy when it comes to talking to women, and I know I shouldn't judge them after just one or two conversations. But after six or seven whole months at York University, after trying to start up conversations with girls in libraries and lectures and goddam bookstores? While obviously there are so many women who are attractive there on first sight, none have had the voice or personality to ever make me feel the same way for them as I did for the girl at work. It's been so long since I last heard her voice, yet hers is the only voice I still hear. This is so sad and pathetic, but this is really how my heart works. Every single time I try to talk to another woman, they only serve to remind me of her. Why the fuck is that?...

I went to York University with the hope of finding a new woman who could make me forget about the lost love of my life, but instead, every day I keep thinking to myself that I wish it was the girl at work with me instead of all these spoiled brats surrounding me at campus. It'll soon be exactly one whole year since the anniversary of the last time I even spoke to the girl I still care about, and I only imagine if I broke my promise and contacted her again, that she would be either completely cold and callous towards me, or even bitter and angry that I haven't spoken to her in so long. I guess it speaks volumes though that every single week, I run those little expectation-scenarios in my head of what would happen if I were just to call her up one day, or if fate would finally put us together and have us run into each other on the street. Every single time I go to downtown Toronto, I keep hoping that she would turn up just around the corner, that we would meet up and end up accidentally sitting next to each other where I'll finally be able to tell her everything that I've ever felt. But every time I return back from downtown Toronto, I just feel so desolate and so lonely knowing that fate would never bring us together, that perhaps the best and only opportunity I had with her was years ago when I blew it and she never looked back. Call me a stalker if you will, but I have indeed kept track of her over the past year at times (for better and for worse when it comes to my sanity), and she's doing fine without me, without a single hint that she ever cared that I said my goodbyes. She seems happy now, so how could I ruin that for her by contacting her again? I've been desperately waiting for some sign to make my return, but nothing ever appears. She's fine without me, yet every day I think of her. I feel like such a goddam idiot...

I'm still unemployed after all these months, though I admit that my search for a job has somewhat diminished since I made my return to university. I'm doing much better at school now than I did at computer engineering at the University of Toronto, though it's not hard to outdo an education where I averaged a C- at best, failed three or more courses and accidentally slept through the last of my final exams. At York University, where I'm now aiming for my Chartered Accountant designation, I'm averaging around a B+ in my financial and accounting courses, and overall probably an A or A- when you factor in the bullshit arts and science courses I needed as pre-requisites. I still don't feel any more confident in myself or my skills than I did before I started though. Every day I'm at school, the same old shit and the same old tired story happens. I try to listen to the professor, I get bored halfway through, I start scanning the room for how attractive all the women look in the room that evening, and then I normally end up disgusted at how expensive their purses are or how they never ever wear the same outfit twice. Or I remember how every time I try talking to one of them, they would end up ignoring me or literally shoo me away like in the case of one Chinese FOB I tried making conversation with. And then of course, I start remembering what I keep reminiscing as the finer and simpler times in my life, when I was still in my old home, when I wasn't disillusioned with my job, when my grandpa was still alive, when my grandmother was still healthy, and when I still had a chance with the girl I eventually fell in love with, in spite of all my best efforts not to. I keep asking myself every single day, what if? I keep praying that she would write about me like I always do about her, but I know she never will. If only...

Well, short story short, it's now a New Year and a New Decade. God, time flies by so damn quickly. I didn't even really notice that I hadn't written on this website since goddam August. Has it really been that many months already? I know I've felt busy with the house move, with being back at university, and with dealing with the family issues of my brother's marriage and my sister leaving to live in Asia. But wow, I've had so much to write about and arguably so much time to do so. Why haven't I bothered, and when will be the next time I write?...

It's going to be a big year for me. I have at least three more terms to finish at university, I have my sister leaving officially in February and my brother getting married in August, and I still need to find a goddam job to bring back some income to this family and to help myself feel a bit more whole again. Of course, I know the real reason and the only real person why I may never feel complete again.  I care about her, I really do, but how can my conscience ever really allow me to speak with her again when I know she sounds so happy without me?...

Because it all sounds like so much goddam fun, now doesn't it? Enough to drive me goddam insane, day after day and time after time...

I guess, we'll see how the New Year turns out for me. 2008 and 2009 were both, to say the least, not very kind...

... but somehow, I just have the feeling, I will make 2010 into something real...

Y2kk Update: It's been a long time since I last wrote on this website of mine. And it's not like I haven't had the will to write. Every single week I try to find some time in order to sit down and just rant here for an hour or two. I guess technically I do have that amount of freedom, but I've just always felt so tired and so busy with so many things going on in my life right now. Almost feels like old times, really...

Right now, I'm still preoccupied with the move to the new house. My family and I are constantly driving back and forth between the two homes, moving stuff to and fro, and doing a ton of clean-up and repair jobs at the old house that we need to put on the market by the first or second week of September. Right now, we're still concentrating on repainting much of the house and completing repairs to the dry wall after plugging holes from water damage. Besides all that, I've been busy with my first month back at university, and considering I was taking two courses condensed to just one and a half months each, I was busy almost every week studying for midterms first and then the final exams. I'll be starting the fall term in one more week, and I still have a lot of work to complete when it comes to my part time job either this week or the next. I'll talk about all this along with more family matters when it comes to my brother's engagement during another website update, but there was also a couple of really big events that happened in my life since then that I want to discuss now, for better or for worse really...

It was the week before I started school at York University for summer and the week after we had finalized the deal for the new house in Woodbridge, that we got a call that nearly scared me to death from the nursing home. My grandmother had fallen really ill and that morning when we arrived to check up on her, we never expected that the EMTs would have to soon arrive on scene to take her to the hospital. When I first saw her, my first thought in my head was, "God, please don't let her die". My gut instincts were telling me that she would be alright, that we had caught her sickness before it got completely serious, but I'd be lying if I didn't admit that I was terrified that this was it. I love my grandmother, I always have, I always will and I will always thank her for raising me like I was her own child when I was an infant. And here she was, looking so frail and weak before us, unable to even open her eyes on her bed when I tried to hold her hand. She could barely breathe and even with all my strength, I still couldn't get her off of the bed to see if she was alright. I was so scared at that moment, it's horrifying to witness somebody that you love so much appear so close to death. After we called the ambulance, I didn't know what else to do...

When we got to the hospital, I simply stayed by my grandmother's side the whole time. I'm sure I looked like an idiot, holding her hand as much as I could in the emergency ward, but considering she couldn't open her eyes, I just wanted her to feel reassured that I would always be there for her. One of the EMTs tried to comfort me, telling me that my grandmother would be alright. I wanted to believe him, and like I said, my gut feeling told me that this was not it, that this was not my grandmother's time to pass away, but she seemed so close to death that I couldn't help but worry and fear for the worst. My mother was crying off to the side, she was already making her peace with God, and all I could do was touch her shoulder and hold her hand to try to reassure her that this wasn't the end, that hopefully my grandmother will live to see my brother and his fiancee get married. We finally got a room in the resuscitation area, with a doctor who obviously didn't give a damn about our feelings or the comfort of her patient. But she did her job and told us that most likely my grandmother had pneumonia. She warned us that my grandma at her age may not pull through, but there was still a good chance that she would be alright. I chose to believe and have faith, of course...

Over the course of the next two weeks, I visited my grandmother every single day that I could, spending an hour or two by her side every opportunity I could get. Because of hospital regulations, we were forced to wear face masks, yellow gloves and those body-covering garments every single time we entered the room with my grandma, and I'm sure because of her Alzheimer's that at times she wasn't even aware of who we were. There were nights that I was especially worried about her, considering she looked so down and depressed and almost as if she wanted to pass away to be with her husband once more. But as the days went on, I'm thankful to all the doctors and nurses who kept such a close eye on her that she steadily began to improve, and by the end of her tenure there at the hospital, she was back to eating the sweet potatoes that we brought to her, her favourite food that she's been eating and adoring since before I can even remember being born...

I love my grandma and I am so grateful that she's back to being almost as healthy now as she was before her bout with pneumonia. I do realize that her time to be with my grandpa again is coming soon, but all I hope for now is that maybe she will get the chance to see her first great-grandchild. I know that is so much to ask for from both her and the fates, but I just want her to be there at least for my brother's wedding and I want to cherish every single moment I have left with my grandmother. I thank her so much for everything she has done for me in life and I want to repay her back the only way I know how. I know I probably looked very childish as a grown adult constantly holding my grandma's hand while tempting fate by contracting pneumonia of my own and spreading it out to the rest of the world, but that's the only true way I know how to express how I feel to her. Before she got ill, she would always smile when I first enter the room and give her a kiss. For two weeks there, that smile had vanished and faded and of course I became concerned. But now, she's back to being the grandma I love and remember and while I know it won't last forever, I can at least thank the stars and heavens for every single second while I still have my grandma here with me now...

August 21st was the anniversary of my grandfather's death. It was the first real death I had ever experienced and witnessed in life, and sometimes I still think about his final moments, sometimes I still really do miss my grandfather. On the anniversary of his death, my brother and I joined my mother at his gravestone, where she wept as she always does when she visits her father. She still blames herself for not seeing the warning signs of his kidney failure earlier in the month, she still wishes she brought him to the hospital long before he truly fell ill, even though we all know she did ask him multiple times but in his stubbornness he simply refused to go. Maybe his life could have been prolonged, I don't know, but it certainly wasn't my mother's fault that my grandpa didn't want to spend the rest of his life on life support or in a wheel chair, and it certainly wasn't anyone's fault that last year was the year that my grandfather's body started to fail him. I want my mother to forgive herself and maybe one day she will. For now though, she misses her father and blames herself so much for his passing that she will always cry as soon as we visit his grave. We do so every month or two, but of course August 21st was special. I miss my grandfather, I do. I wish he was here...

I still remember the promise I made to myself the night that my grandfather passed away. I was in love with the girl at work back then, and even though I haven't seen her in so many months now, I still love her to this very day. I don't know why I can't get her out of my thoughts and heart and mind, I just can't. There's not a single waking morning or a single evening alone to myself where I don't wonder if she's safe, where I don't ask myself whether she's ever thought of me since that last time I heard her voice. There's not a day that goes by where I don't question my decision to leave her, whether I am breaking my promise to my grandfather that I will do everything in my power to find true love. I don't know why I feel this way, I don't know why I seem to remember the same events with her happen in my head over and over again every goddam hour of the day. And it was made all the worse when my grandmother was in the hospital. The whole time I was there, I wanted to comfort my grandmother but I felt so guilty that even when my own family was ill, all I could think of was the girl at work and how I wish she was there to comfort me at a time like this. She's all I ever think of and she's all I ever want. It's been eight months, why am I like this?...

Of course I want her back. I always have and maybe I always will. But I still remember why I left, I still remember the reasons why I chose to leave her be. She doesn't like me anymore, and she hasn't for a very long time. She told me after the Malaysian trip years ago that she simply had not met the right guy for her yet, and she told me again just one month later when she chose to ignore me for the next few months we spent together at work. I should never forget her reaction when I told her just how I felt about her. She was the first girl that I ever expressed my feelings to and she couldn't even respect me enough to not laugh back in my face. And I can't ever dismiss the fact that in one of her final e-mails to me, she told me that if my crush on her doesn't go away, then maybe we shouldn't be friends anymore. Even after I tried to rekindle the spark between us after the passing of my grandfather, every single time I called her just to see how her day was, she would always sound completely distant and bored, as if she was desperately searching for any reason to hang up the phone on me. No matter how many times I tried to call her, no matter how many tries I gave to try and get through to her, she was never grateful and never appreciative and never caring about how I truly did feel about her. She knew how I felt but she just didn't care, and what else can I do then? I had to move on, not just for myself but for her as well. I have to remember, I left not just because I felt hurt, but because she didn't want anything to do with me anymore...

With my grandmother so close to death for a week or two there, and with the first anniversary of my grandfather just the other day, not to mention the fact that my brother is getting married in a year and I'm going to be one of his best men, of course I have been thinking of my own future so much as of late, and of course I wish that things had gone right between me and the only woman that I've ever loved. After one month at York University, after even trying to talk to a few women who I thought I might have a chance with, I still haven't even come close to a single girl that makes me feel even one least bit as special as the girl at work somehow always managed to do...

Was it all in my head? I have to believe that, I have to assume that, considering she never wanted anything to do with me, considering every single time I spoke with her it sounded like I was a chore on her side that she just wanted to get rid of. I have to remember, I have to always keep close to my heart until I finally do move on, that in our final conversation she told me that she would call me, she promised me that she would contact me as soon as she wasn't so busy. But for me, starting from the very day years ago when she started to ignore me at work, she's always been too "busy", she never bothers to find the time to talk to me, to actually care about my feelings or even ask how was my day. It's sad to think that I still seem to remember almost as if it was yesterday, the one time she ever said "good luck" to me despite all the times I wished the same to her. I have to believe then, my feelings for her are only within my heart and nowhere in her own. I wish that wasn't the case, but then why hasn't she contacted me in eight whole months? Why has she never seemed to care since I told her how I feel?...

The other day, while cleaning up my room at the old house here, I came across an old piece of paper that was meant to be a reminder to me two years ago. I had forgotten my mother's birthday back then, so I wrote a note to myself, "Remember grandpa's birthday! Mom's birthday is three weeks later". That got a slight chuckle out of me and maybe even a single tear crawling down my eye. I should really write a new note, "Remember grandpa's anniversary. Mom's birthday is two weeks later." And course it reminded me of everything that had happened with my grandma. She's fine now and I go to visit her every single week to hold her hand and to bring her the sweet potatoes that she loves so much. But I know this is all just borrowed time. I'm thankful that I have this opportunity to share my appreciation and gratitude with her even more for all the years she took care of me and raised me to be the man that I am today. But none of this will last for much longer, I know that in my heart. My gut feeling when I first saw her there looking so frail and ill was that this was not her time, that she would recover and that she would be alright, but it's only a matter of a few more years until she leaves this world as well. I love her so much and it scares me that one day she will have to go. I wish that day would never come, but I know it must. And I just wonder to myself, what promises will I make to myself then?...

But for now, everything is fine. For now, my grandma is safe and she still smiles every single time I step through that door. And for now, at least I can bury my fears and my thoughts and my broken heart into the work I have to do for my part time job and for the Fall term at York University that I will be starting in a week or two. I wish I didn't have so many regrets about my past, I wish that my heart and mind could just become one for once and then maybe my life wouldn't be the empty void of a mess that it is now. In a perfect world, my grandfather and my grandmother would be there with me, as the woman that I love walks down that aisle, smiling and glowing as I take her hand. I don't know how, I don't know why, but just like how I knew that it was not my grandmother's time of passing this year, and just like I knew it was indeed my grandfather's time the moment I first heard the news of his illness, I just somehow know deep in my heart that I really have met the girl of my dreams, that I really have met the one. But with everything that has happened between us, with the simple remembrance of the fact that she sounded disgusted with me almost every time I phoned, and she still hasn't written me back even in eight whole months, my mind just can't accept the fact that my heart knows all. I left her not just for me, but for her, because I love her. And to this day, she never came back...

I promised my grandfather that I would never rest until I find the one, until I find true love. But then I also promised both myself and the only woman I've ever loved that I would set her free, that I would leave her be because I just couldn't stand to hear her hurt and annoyed any longer from my goddam actions. The two promises are not mutually exclusive in my mind but they certainly feel that way in my heart. I may always second guess my choice but I know deep down inside that I made the only decision I could and that it was the right thing to do for her. It has been eight whole months and I have not heard a single word from her. I may hate this, I may hate myself, but this is the way it's meant to be...

I've been so damn busy as of late, but it's never helped me forget about my grandmother. It's never helped me forget about my grandfather. And it's never made me forget for even a single moment of the day how much my heart aches to truly find the woman that I belong with...

I was so hoping I could forget. I was so hoping it would work. God, I'm so damn bloody naive...

Which is why I write. Which is why I remember.

Y2kk Update: Well, the past two weeks have certainly been an interesting turn of events...

My brother has prepared to propose to his girlfriend for the past few months. He had scheduled a trip with her to New York this past weekend, and he made sure to pop the question in the perfect spot with the perfect weather in Central Park. Considering they love each other so much, she said yes and starting hugging him before he could even get the ring on her finger. He later wrote to me that evening that she was so positively glowing throughout the entire night that it was one of the happiest moments of his life. I'm so happy for them, I really am. I just wish though that I didn't feel so left out and I wish I didn't feel so alone. All I can hope for now is that everything goes perfectly for my brother. If I can't have the kind of life that I want, at least I can be happy for him and his fiancee. He found true love, and how can I not be jealous?...

I had put too much pressure on myself last Thursday when I was taking them to the airport. I knew that my brother was going to propose in a couple of days, and I just wanted to make sure that everything went perfectly for them the moment that we stepped into the car. I was feeling nervous behind the wheel for the first time in years, and in hindsight, I should've put aside my pride and simply allowed my brother to drive like he originally requested. I guess my ego was hurt a bit when he did ask to be in the driver's seat, considering I wanted to be the one to just let him relax and concentrate on his time with his girlfriend on the way to the airport. I wanted to do everything in my power to make their weekend as special as possible, and I chose not to let him drive because I wanted to prove to both him and myself that I could be the chaperone for him and his future fiancee. I just wanted to contribute to his engagement weekend in the only way I could, but I really should've just bit my pride...

Driving to the airport was absolutely a disaster. I don't know whether I was just nervous behind the wheel or if things really did go to shit. I just know that I feel absolutely terrible and mortified that thanks to my reckless driving, I put both my brother's and his girlfriend's lives in danger. Maybe I'm going too far with that, maybe it's not like we were ever really in harm's way, but I certainly made them feel nervous about their own safety in the car, and that's never what I ever intended. On the way to picking her up at her workplace, I already messed up twice by first driving too closely to a dump truck on the highway in a tight corner turn, and again later on when shoving my way into an off-ramp in a busy section of the QEW highway where it merges with the 427. I was driving too quickly and I should've realized that I had to apply the brakes sooner and harder than I did. We were never in any real danger because fitting into a tight spot like I did on Thursday, is something I've done many times on the highway in the past. But my brother certainly wasn't happy with the sudden stop on the freeway though, he didn't like the feeling that there was a chance I could ram the car that was stopped ahead of me, and I realized I really should have had more patience and more common sense and just lined up like the rest of the vehicles waiting to merge onto the other goddam highway...

After we picked up his girlfriend from her workplace, I promised myself that I would simply drive in the slower lanes on the right of the freeway all the way to the airport, simply because I wanted to make sure that my brother and his soon to be fiancee would never be in harm's way. What I didn't realize though, was that by driving up along the 427 highway here in Toronto, you need to stay all the way far in the left lanes in order to continue going North, and I fucked up badly in that sense. As soon as I got on the highway and tried to stay content on the right lanes like I had promised, I soon saw that I would accidentally exit onto a different highway if I didn't shift about four lanes to the left right away. In the process while doing so, I didn't notice that there was a sudden traffic jam right in front of me, as expected during a highway transition during goddam rush hour. Sure, I applied the brakes well in time and no harm ever came to my brother and his girlfriend. But once again, my brother panicked, criticized my actions, and I know he definitely didn't feel comfortable with me behind the wheel. That's when I felt more nervous...

And that's when I really fucked up later on. The 427 highway going North was a complete bitch and a half after that point. Like I said, I had to go far into the left lanes in order to continue towards the airport. What I didn't realize was that only moments after I had switched four lanes left to stay on the highway, I had to switch four lanes back to the right in order to exit to Pearson airport. I didn't have much time to make the adjustment, and I stupidly hesitated thinking that I could get in front of some cars by speeding up. That decision cost me dearly with time running short before the off-ramp. The biggest problem with the 427 is that traffic on the right lanes often moves faster than the left lanes, especially after the merge with the giant 401 highway. When I was desperately trying to shift into the right lanes, two fucking cars refused to let me through. They neither sped up to get out of my way nor did they slow the fuck down. I tried applying the brakes myself (what other choice did I have?), then the car behind me started tail-gating, honking its horn constantly because I was in its goddam path. In frustration, I yelled out at no-one, "why the hell is everyone so tough today?", sparking a reaction from my brother's girlfriend that it's not my fault...

Eventually, with the off-ramp just moments away, I had no choice but to pull a downtown driving stunt on the 427 highway and shove my way into the two fucktard cars that wouldn't let me through. Of course when a minivan is barreling between two fucking asshole compact cars, the one behind me had no choice but to finally fucking back off. We narrowly made it to the airport, and I felt so damn terrible about the situation that I apologized to both my brother and his girlfriend for my behaviour. The last thing I ever wanted was to put their lives in jeopardy, and even if I'm over-embellishing that fact, there was no doubt when I looked into my brother's eyes that he was furious at me for making his girlfriend and soon to be fiancee so worried and so at risk in the goddam car. I felt so guilty about what I had done that I even tried to phone up my brother when he was still at the airport to apologize again about the situation. When we had first left the house that morning, the only thought on my mind was to be a perfect driver for one of the most important weekends of his entire life. And yet it turned out to be the day when my brother had to scold me and my driving skills not once or twice but three fucking times along the way to the airport. I should've just swallowed my pride and allowed him to drive in the first place, I really should have. I just still can't believe how wrong things went...

Like I mentioned before, if my brother was indeed angry at me for my "driving antics and escapades" (as I emo-ly put it later), he certainly forgot all about it by the time that his girlfriend said yes in Central Park. The both of them sounded so happy over the phone after he popped the question, and I couldn't help but be relieved that everything had turned out for the best despite my goddam missteps and mistakes. When I arrived at the airport Monday morning in order to pick them up, my brother once again asked if he could drive. I actually was willing to let him, but he chose to get into the passenger seat instead of taking the key away from me, so I sat down behind the wheel and tried to drive as carefully and cautiously as I could. When we were coming up to the big bend on the bridge along the 403, I noticed that a pick-up truck was parked on the side curb of the highway, and in between it and I was a giant Mack truck making the turn. I quickly calculated the dangers in my head, and even though I knew my brother would probably admonish me for this, I hit the brakes to stay well behind of the truck in front of me, in case it chose to swerve from the right to the left lane I was in, to avoid the pick-up on the side. As expected, my brother exclaimed, "what the hell are you doing?", in which case I told him my reasoning. He understood why I had slammed on the brakes just in case, but I don't think he would have done the same in my place. I don't regret my decision though, but it did show he obviously had no trust in me behind the wheel...

When we got back to my house, we all celebrated the engagement with lunch and stories about his proposal in Central Park. It was a great time, even if the happy couple seemed more fatigued than anything else. After that moment, my brother left with his fiancee to have her ring adjusted to fit more firmly on her finger, and my parents and I left to visit the new house we had just put an offer on the previous week before (which is a story I'll tell soon enough in another update, but just not today). Thanks to issues we found at the house inspection, and thanks to my pig-headedness in taking on a hot-blooded Italian bitch in a yelling match over something as trivial as a busted fridge (like I said, more on that another day), we stupidly and ignorantly arrived late to the engagement dinner my brother had planned between the two families. I can't believe I misjudged the time so poorly, not realizing it would take us a long time in traffic to get from Woodbridge to the restaurant in Markham. After all I had done to ruin the drive from the airport and back for the happy couple, how the fuck could I have been so thoughtless to be twenty minutes late to their goddam first engagement dinner? Seriously, what a hypocrite I am. I wanted things to be perfect for my brother and his fiancee, yet I was the one ruining their perfect moment yet again. What the hell is wrong with me?...

Dinner started out alright. We had some good conversations going on between the two families about the proposal and wedding plans from here on out. But as you two readers know, over the course of a three hour dinner in this case, there's only so much one can talk about even about their children getting married. Eventually after most of the food was gone from the table, my mother and father started ranting about the house inspection and how rude and brutish the sales agents had been with us for the past three or four hours. It's fine to discuss lightly that sort of stuff, especially since my brother's girlfriend's parents had asked, but my mom soon went off on a tangent and started bitching about trivial things like the value of the furniture in the home or the trimmings on the ceilings. My brother had been worried a week earlier that his engagement dinner would be ruined or overshadowed by the purchase of the new house by my parents. In a sense, maybe it was selfish that he would want the entire three hour dinner focused solely on him, his girlfriend and their proposal over the weekend. But then again, I guess some days do deserve to be dedicated to just two people, since I'm sure my brother and his fiancee will only ever get engaged once in their entire lifetimes. I was so happy for them, I really was. I kept wanting to give them both a perfect day, so why the hell was I ruining it again?...

When I myself got involved in the goddam house discussions, since I was still so upset at how ignorantly rude all the sales agents had been to my very face, my brother tapped me on the shoulder and scolded me for ruining his night. He did apologize to me later about it, saying he didn't mean to "hit" me. All he really did was give me a gentle tap of a reminder, although the look on his face definitely made it feel more like a slap to my face. But he was right; what was I doing? I keep telling myself that I want to make him and his fiancee as happy as possible, and once again I had lost myself in my own petty grievances, just like I had lost track of time when arriving late to their dinner in the first place. My brother started complaining to me that his girlfriend's parents had lost all interest in what my mom was still ranting on and on about, and it was clear that he was not happy with how spoiled my family was acting. I felt absolutely terrible there too that I had forgotten about my promise to my brother, to make sure that night went as perfectly as possible. So what other choice did I have but to stand up for what's right?...

I had made so many mistakes over the past few days. It was time I tried to start making amends for them all. My mother wouldn't shut up and even though I gave my brother several moments to say something himself, he did nothing to change the topic of discussion at the table except to reprimand me for my behaviour yet again. I felt so guilty for everything I had done wrong over the goddam weekend, from putting his girlfriend's life in danger on the highway to forgetting and ignoring the happy couple at their own engagement dinner thanks to my own petty jealousy and vindictiveness. I can't take back what I've done, I can't fix the mistakes of the past and change fucking time, but I can at least stand up on my own two feet and try to make amends for what I have done. My mother wouldn't stop talking about the house, so I had no choice but to cut her off and offer my brother and his fiancee a toast. I made absolutely the worst toast I could possibly imagine in life, using the word "great" about three or four slurred times in a row when it came to the family and the couple's future marriage, but I think I did the best I could under the guilt I felt deep down inside. Those were sadly the only honest words that came to my mouth, but I meant every second if it when I gave them my blessing. I still felt horrible for ruining their perfect weekend, but I knew I would feel even more remorse if I simply sat there and said nothing as my brother felt his dinner had been ruined. I'm not a "great" man by any means, but I certainly wish I was...

My brother of course apologized to me later on for hitting me on the shoulder, and he thanked me for saving the dinner by bringing the focus back to him and his fiancee. I appreciated that, but I could still see in his eyes that he was upset, most likely because of me. He expected more from me, and I expected more from myself. I shouldn't have been so selfish in wanting to drive my brother and his girlfriend to the airport, simply so I could prove to them that I am a good driver and that I will be there for them whenever they need me. I shouldn't have wasted half an hour arguing with the dumbass sales agents at the house inspection, especially when I knew in the back of my head that this was my brother's engagement dinner we were talking about here, and it'll be perhaps the only one he'll ever have in his entire life. And I was just so wrong in ruining the rest of their special night by griping about the house and bickering with my parents at a dinner that should have been focused on making my brother and his fiancee feel as happy and appreciated as they possible can feel. Sure, I accept that at least I tried my best to rectify the situation, but I still can't believe how much of a hypocrite I've been all weekend long. I kept making mistake after mistake after fucking bullshit mistake in the pretense guise of helping my brother. I try to tell myself that I meant well, but if I honestly did, why did I never learn?...

I still feel terrible for what I had done, I still feel that hallowing and humbling guilt, but what else can I do? What else could I have done to make amends and help everyone to feel better? I had apologized profusely, I offered the couple an honest toast, and all I can do now is promise myself that I will try my absolute best to never repeat the same mistakes of the past few days ever again. My brother still has more than one year before he gets married. That's more than a year then for me to become the kind of man that I want to be, or a true best man so to speak...

Congratulations to my brother and his fiancee. God, they really do love each other so much. The way they look at each other? I want that...

Of course I'm jealous. How could I not be? They found true love. I just wish I could be as happy for them as I want to be...

But I do love them. I honestly do. I just hope that's enough.