So I've never really been in love. I've been infatuated and I've cried over guys but I can't quite say my heart's ever been broken. Never had a boyfriend. My parents think I'm gay and my brother thinks I'm just too weird to get one. I really just have no desire for a relationship. I like being free and loose among the waves of existence without some buoyant boy to float on. Eventually I'm sure I'd like a lover, but I can't imagine how far away that will be. I've been considering getting a boyfriend for the sole purpose of practicing being in a relationship. Then I realize I am just too weird to have one.

  I went on okcupid or some website like that for about three minutes before I freaked out and left. I was on the page where they ask you all your values and interests and dreams so they can look for others with similar lifestyles. But I don't exactly know what my values are and I doubt they're even positive or matchable. Plus I don't want to date anyone like me, I think that would be seriously dreadful. Just for fun, here's what my personal profile would probably read as:

Hi. I'm Kaylee Rae. I'm an alien from space, possibly from Jupiter or the Moon, I'm not positive which. I was born in Calgary but I consider Vancouver more my hometown. I'm in love with the ocean. Music is my reason for existing and if I had to give up one of my senses, it would be sight so I could have perfect pitch and not be so shallow. I'm becoming more of a hermit as the days go by so I don't have an abundance of friends. I miss people too much. I like books and art more than I like nearly anyone. I think fascists get some things right. If you pray to an imaginary man in the sky, I will presume you're psychotic. Unless you're gorgeous. I usually don't find people attractive, in fact, I might be asexual. 

And that's me. Here's a funny story: I'm pretty sure my "one that got away" has come and gone. He was in Vancouver, and I met him at work. I was hired in October to work as a professional zombie. I got paid to scare the shit out of people. And it was fantastic. Anyways, the boy worked in the clown house but I never saw him in makeup. Just when he was supervising. I don't know how, but he was drawn to me and was one of the first friends I made there. Even with all my terrifying painted-on features, he would vie for my attention. This one time, he was singing something to himself when he was behind me and when I turned around to see who it was, he stopped and said "Sorry, I was just singing to myself..." I always have an angry look on my face until I'm driven to emote something else, so he probably assumed I was annoyed by his voice. I laughed and asked what song and he told me the new Tokyo Police Club album has been in his head. Sometime later he tells me Kings of Leon's new album is great too. Within the week, I had bought both albums and they are on repeat on the old iPod for about a month. I still think of him every time I listen to those songs. I don't know if I really liked the albums or if my infatuation with him was manifesting itself in the music.

The day before Halloween was my last shift. I was on my way out of the dressing room, anticipating that I'd never see the boy again and in a strange twist, he appears. He jokes for me to hurry up because he wants to change. "You can't tell me what to do!" I cooed. This is where he walks up to me and with about three inches between our faces he says "I'll tell you whatever I want." The way he said it sounded so filthy that I was basically swooning and fighting every urge to force him behind a closed door and tear off his clothes. All I can reply is "You're not the boss of me" and he grins as he points to his "supervisor" name tag and says "Oh really?" I laugh and push him away just to release us from the overwhelming sexual tension. I tell him it's my last shift and he asks if I want a hug. It was raining that night, so he opened up his black coat so I could hug him from inside and not get wet. He had a hilarious sweater that had a panda face, it was unforgettable. I need to find one for myself. I put my arms around him, underneath his jacket, and felt the warmest sensation I remember feeling in my whole life. It was like a homecoming. His blond hair was dark with water and it dripped onto my shoulders. And that was the last time I saw him.

I'm glad he never ended up a one night stand. That would have ruined it. I'm glad I never dated him and broke up some months later. That would have been worse. Of course I wish he could have been my one and only forever, but that's only possible if I ever see him again. And I hope I do. It does sound quite neurotic, to think my "one" was a boy I never even knew more than a month, but I enjoy the idea of it. That I missed out on my chance at a nice, happy little fate. That if he truly is that one, that I will certainly meet him again. That I don't have to worry if the next boy might be the "one". He's already come and gone.

I have a lot of qualms about religion. I was raised Catholic. I went to Catholic school and was trained to put my faith in an invisible yet still omnipotent being. And when I dared to submit to any of my naturally human desires and didn't ask said ghost man for forgiveness, I should expect an eternity in a flaming pit of agonizing existence following my death on earth. This is the kind of shit matured adults are telling children every damn day. "Have zero notions that your finite life here means anything beyond serving an almighty creator. If you're bad, you'll go to Hell when you die. Also, this omniscient man has yet to find a way to make his existence undeniable to humans, but questioning his existence is a sin against him, so don't do that. Oh, and you can just go ahead and base your whole life on this book that barely makes any sense even in the context it was written in."

Sometime after maybe eight years of age, I stopped having imaginary friends. Even then, I never thought they were really there. It was just a past-time when I was alone and finding ways to cope with that. Now, when you have gone through puberty, you've got a job, you go to school or you're bringing up a family, and you have an imaginary friend who you swear your entire life by, you are probably insane. But the second we call him "God", suddenly that's perfectly normal. It's perfectly normal that a major population of the world is okay with the idea that God only talks to one infallible man on earth at any time and that's enough to satisfy their doubts. Children are told that questioning is evil and are raised to pray to this imaginary friend until the day they die. This is actually psychotic. 

I personally fucking hate the Church for it's impositions on my life and more severely on others. I help my brother with his homework sometimes and for religion questions, I have to look them up online because they don't make sense I think logically as opposed to a brain-dead infant. Questions about God and morals. Why do I need to know about Jesus and God to know about morals? I'm pretty sure I can understand the good implications of the Golden Rule without knowing the history of Jesus. 

I can't converse with my family. I told my brother to stop playing video games for Lent. He told me to give something up and I said I don't have to, because I don't believe in God. This is where my mother yells for me to quit imposing my beliefs on my brother who is too young to hear about it. She usually has no qualms about my religious choices but this stirred her. Which I found laughable because apparently it's better to teach a child that they can only be moral if they follow the Catholic doctrine and if they deny it, they're going to Hell. He probably says prayers on nights when he wants a new game, or wants my grandmother to get better or wants school to be easier. He thinks someone besides the ceiling is listening. 

That's how I was. I used to pray every night for my parents to get back together. And they did. And I prayed every night, saying thank you for answering those prayers. But only six months went by before I was back in my hometown without my father. I finished grade five in the school that I left at the end of grade four. I was never supposed to come back. My parents were supposed to be together forever. I prayed every night, so what gives? Praying had nothing to do with it. We moved on my parent's whim, and they separated by their own accord as well. It had nothing to do with the quality and quantity of their small daughter's prayers. This is about the time I lost my faith in god. Prayers don't do shit. Cancers patients live or they don't. There is no decided prayer quota to determine their survival. 

My maternal grandparents are quite the story. Grandpa was raised in Europe and was an engineer his entire life. He is inarguably intelligent. He is also Seventh Day Adventist. I don't know what specifically differentiates it from being a Catholic, but he's pretty hardcore about the Bible. The family all got photocopies of a booklet on the End of Days, as predicted by the Bible and how we should prepare. "What a great sentiment at Christmastime, thank you Grandfather. I'll be sure to look out for the harlot riding a beast and the inevitable rapture. What does Jesus look like again? Just so I know it's him when the time comes."

My grandmother claims to be a god-fearing Christian who believes God loves her and will bring her to Heaven when she dies. But she's an insufferable woman and she should only be so lucky that there is no afterlife. In the hospital, she moans about leaving her rosary at home instead of grabbing it before the ambulance picked her up. Then she calls my mother a disappointment because she is uncomfortable buying my grandmother's medication and bring it into the hospital. My mother hasn't visited her since. My grandfather was somehow convinced to by the meds and they were confiscated by doctors the next day. My grandfather, the engineer, has actually been divorced from this woman for decades now and still pays all her bills. My grandmother treats the family like we're peasants. She has said things to my brother and I as children that only an immoral person could. She doesn't go to Church more than three times a year. All this, and she still gets to call herself a Christian. 

I hate the Church for this. For making people think they can't have a moral compass without an unshakable faith in something that doesn't logically exist. My grandmother is proof that there can be faith without morals. And it exists everywhere. I hate the Church for all the time I spent staying up at night and questioning god, fearing that what if, after all this, I will be spending an eternity in hellfire. Apparently the greatest sin against god is denying that it exists. How convenient for the Church! So yeah, not too worried about that anymore.

I can't believe that god exists anymore than I believe there is a teapot orbiting the earth or that Zeus has always been the right answer. There innumerable gods that have been designed by humans throughout time and all they do is fulfill our natural desire for understanding. That's it, that's all. The Church is just a business tagging along for the ride. 

And now, something about happiness. What I have come to know is that people are constantly making efforts towards being perfectly happy, instead of finding methods to maintain happiness everyday. I could ask anyone I know what the best day of their life was, and they could probably recite one or two, maybe seven, to me. Some pure and perfect impression of a flawless time they once lived in. Ask anyone you know what the best day of their life was and the majority will recall some time from the past. It's rather unlikely they might tell you "today" or "yesterday, actually." Some people have the ability to say "It hasn't happened yet." For instance, if you're anywhere under the age of 35 and in good health, in all likelihood you still have more than 50% of your life to lead. Imagine all the job prospects, relationship potentials and problems you've encountered so far. Imagine how all this becomes exponentially greater with the possession of wisdom and aptitude. 

Everyone certainly finds happiness in a variety of subjects and areas. Most commonly I'd say in love, money, and in living stress-free, overall. What I've realized is that as people pursue a harmonious future, they try to cling to their days in the past. We want time machines to take us back to when we were cuddling a sweetheart instead of being single or getting As in grade eleven instead of Cs in university. Working part time and no bills. Concerts, movie dates and climbing trees, oh please just take us back. Now all we have are interviews, seduction classes and guys who don't answer calls.

But in the depths of all the sadness, there is great potential to be happy. There's potential in music and nature; these impeccable entities that exist beyond the power of money or human interference. I sometimes wish I could live the life I had in high school. But this is unfair to the life I have now, for it could be marginally more desirable if I made the effort. It honestly is, though. I just have a hard time accepting that some days.

Because it is hard to realize that your life is ultimately meaningless. And everything you do is to be forgotten. And everyone you ever cherish will fade. All this is essentially where unhappiness stems out of. The incapability to wholly accept that everything but impermanence itself is impermanent. To acknowledge these unfortunate facts as necessary and liberating gives us the quality of finding happiness in everything. In simply existing. With this, we can be grateful for our tiny sliver of time. All the simplicity, the inconsistency, the constant rejection and acceptance we face. There is no god-given plan but this is the scheme or our lives and I am learning to embrace it.