I Really Promise This Time!

Okay! So even though I'm my biggest and only fan on this thing I solemnly swear to myself that I will actually blog at least every other day!! I'm at a time in my life where I need to.... lol I'm so just kidding (: I will probably never start a blog that way unless I'm really depressed or high and the latter is extremely unlikely (: I'm in my Freshman Year of High School this year (: I'm turning 15 on the 18th and I have nothing planned for my birthday at all seeing as how my Dad has been acting like a total jerk lately. But I won't even go into that right now because I'm not in the mood... well maybe I'll post it later. My Uncle Brian has moved in with me for the past couple of weeks because he's going through a divorce with his wife. It sucks because he's really upset about it, but I guess if it's going to happen no one can change it. I've been going through a crazy tunnel named guys lately. Micheal, Cody, John, Dominic, Bailey, Dillon, Justin, Zach, and Donnie. No, I have not been in a relationship with them all. Yes, I am married to most of them. No, it's not a real marriage, it's a joke. Yes, I like joking around about marriage with guys who willingly take claim to my child. No, I'm not pregnant. No, I do not have a child. Yes, I was pregnant for about 8 hours. No, I'm not serious. (: K, good. Now that we've covered the bases (: Haha what Happened was I'm in ROTC with a lot of super hot, super protective guys who range from Freshman, to Sophmore, to Junior, to Senior. They are all extremely fun to hang out with and be around and we were doing a weekend ROTC volunteer EMS Practice course. I was a pregnant lady with third degree burns on my arm. My orders were to give birth during the practice. And while we were waiting to start all the guys were taking claim to the baby and fighting over who's child it was. It was the coolest thing ever lol it was so hilarious! (: Well my Dad just got home so i better go before I get in trouble for being obsessed with my computer :P Ugh! Whatever! (: Later

Love is Love <3

Your Story/ My Story

Your Story:

He was so sweet, my best friend really. We hung out all the time; I was always there for him. He was sixteen and he was mentally handicap. Every time I went over to his house he would run so happily down the stairs and straight into my open arms. “Mikey!!” He would holler in joy at seeing me. God, I loved that kid so much. He was everything to me. One day can’t pass that I don’t think about him, that my mind isn’t over flown with memories of his adorable little smile. He looked up to me and I couldn’t protect him this time. There was nothing I could do.

            He was diagnosed with a brain tumor and not very long to live. When I heard the news I could feel myself begin to cry. How was this possible? This sweet little boy had done nothing to deserve this? He was good! He needed the best; he was the best! How could someone have let this happen? God. God hadn’t stopped it; he hadn’t made it better, why didn’t he fix it? Why didn’t he make it better? If God would let this happen to such an innocent child, then who the hell is he. He’s not the God I thought he was if he lets so much destruction, so much pain go unchecked. He doesn’t even care what happens to this child, well yes he does; he wants him for himself. “You can’t have him!!” I yelled out, tears streaking my handsome face. Pain was engulfing me and I don’t think I will ever escape this cocoon of Hell. Curling into myself I feel the first tears of my heart. I thought this was the worst of it. I didn’t know anything about pain yet.

            We went to go see him at the hospital. He was lying in a hospital bed and he looked so frail and small, so breakable. He looked smaller than before, but no different to any other day he threw his arms out. “Mikey!” He called in joy, I embraced him and squeezed wishing I could just hold him here forever and never let go. Then he could never leave me, I would be tether him to Earth, tether his life and soul to his body so he would live. I could tell he was already in pain. I couldn’t take seeing him like this anymore. It was too much. I left the room and threw my fist at the wall. It was all so fricking unfair! Why him?? The question wouldn’t get out of my head. Why him? Why him? Why him? Why not me? I would take this from him and bear it myself, ten times out of ten. After a while I walked back in and talked to him, listened to his voice drift through the room. When we left I cried myself to sleep, just like I would every night for the rest of ever.

                        We soon found out that there was a second rapidly growing tumor in his brain giving him no more than two weeks to live. Again we went to the hospital. Cords and tubes were hooked up to him everywhere. So much so that I could barely see his miniscule body through all the machinery and liquids being pumped into his body. With all the strength he had he said, “Mikey!” My heart broke in two. His voice was faint and he didn’t have the strength to lift his arms for a hug. I went to him and gently held his body. I couldn’t do this. This was too much for me. Oh, Lord. Again, I had to leave the room. I punched the wall over and over again, but my strength was sapped from my tears, and my hands were shaking. My whole body was shaking. I couldn’t feel anything anymore, I was numb. If only it would last, but of course God, the cruel heartless ****** made it so I felt. Oh yes. My body felt as if I was rolling in shards of glass. Tearing into my skin and my throat closed so that no air could get in. In pain and suffocating I dealt with the fact that my cousin would die, will die, is dying, will soon be dead. It didn’t take long for us to get the call.

            We drove to his house and there he was, Dead.

My Story:

His hair shined in the hot sunlight as he looked at me. He was across the room but I still saw how utter ably beautiful his deep rich-brown eyes were; how his face seemed exactly symmetrical, and perfect. He was wearing the usual 'Gangster' ensemble with a touch of his own style, his pants were a bit baggy and sagged, his shirt fit his perfectly built chest, but was mostly covered by a black jacket. He looked at me with acute interest. I was used to attention from guys but this one guy seemed to make my breathing get faster and my heart raced. Usually if I caught the eye of a boy I would playfully turn my head and walk away swinging my butt to make sure they got a good look. I was a tease, big time. He was different though, I'd had guys better looking than him stare at me before, so why did I care that he was so handsome, why didn't I follow normal procedure? Finally, after I have no idea how long, his head was gently caught between to small hands and dragged to the face of another girl. Watching him kiss this girl, this man I didn't even know, infuriated me! I shook my head to clear my thoughts as I began to imagine what it would be like if it was me he was kissing, the gentle press of his body would feel so protective and his lips would be warm....

When he pulled away and looked up I was no longer there.

I tried not to think of him, I tried to forget how he looked at me as if I was the only person there, but it somehow managed to creep into my mind as I lay in bed wishing for sleep to come. And it did eventually, with HIM following closely behind.

I was so surprised that I dropped my coffee onto the floor. HE was standing there in all his handsome glory, waiting for someone it looked like. Probably the girl he was kissing I told myself angrily. Spilt coffee forgotten I walked forward, trying to get through the door unnoticed for he was standing right next to it, it seemed impossible. "Hey! Hey Beautiful Girl!" he said his voice so melodious I almost fainted; he surely wasn’t talking to me! So I kept walking. His hand wrapped around my wrist, "Hey, are you okay?"

I looked up into those unfathomable eyes and saw the same curiosity I saw the day before. "Um... yeah, I'm fine." I barely managed to get out. His arm slid around my shoulders.

That was how we first met, we became friends, then closer, and closer, we told each other everything, and we soon fell in love with one another. I know that we were young and when it was happening I was sure it was love, what else would it be? I look back now, and see that I was not mistaken. Everything seemed so happy! So right! Until he went to the doctor...I had know about the pains he had been having in his lungs lately. But he said it was no big deal. So I didn't worry. When he came over that night he seemed so out of it so sad and gloomy sort of like a zombie, when we got to my room he closed the door, wrapped me in his arms and cried. I was so shocked and scared I began crying along with him asking what was wrong and telling him I was frightened. I stroked his back as we stood there and held each other. Finally he whispered in such a deadpan voice the shivers ran down my back three times, "I'm dying baby, I have about three weeks left." I was shocked for a minute and couldn't move. He was leaving me, in the worst way. I grabbed him tighter and began crying harder than he was himself. I didn’t think for one minute it was some joke he was pulling, not the way he was acting. My heart felt with dread and I could feel it dying already as if all the light was seeping out of me. A headache blossomed behind my eyes, but I gratefully I held on to it so I wouldn’t drift away.

The next three weeks we spent together, every single second. My parents understood and he didn’t have parents, as he was an orphan. My family was his and he was Mine. Why didn’t God understand that? This lovely, lovely boy was mine. How did he think he could ever possibly take him from me? I remember going to the hospital and seeing him, tubes were in his arms and he was so skinny. He couldn’t eat anything, not without getting sick. He barely had the strength to open his eyes. But there was no way in hell I would leave him, ever. I gently pushed his hair off his forehead and feathered kisses over his face. A faint smile, more like the ghost of a smile, feathered across his chapped lips. Tears burned my eyes, as I looked at him laying there. The bed pretty much engulfed him he was so small. Barely anything for me to hold onto anymore. I could feel things slipping from me, things like the need to be sane. Even the need to live was getting hazy. “Take me, Lord. Leave him the Hell alone! Get your greedy hands off his soul! He deserves to be happy but man do I have something to say to you! So you take me and you leave him here because he has nothing to say that you need to hear! Do you understand me!?” I yelled at the ceiling. Tears were running free because I no longer had the will to hold them in. I turned and slammed my fists into the wall again and again until they were covered in blood and I was shaking so hard I couldn’t move. This was so unfair. A nurse walked in to check and make sure everything was alright, her eyes filled with sympathy as he took me in. I knew her from the past weeks I’ve been here and she instantly engulfed me in her embrace. I cried for who knows how long… Hours. And she held me. When I could actually breathe again I looked at him and realized he had been awake for it all, he had seen everything. He was crying too and I couldn’t stand it. I couldn’t look at him, laying there having seen me just break down and then finally deflate himself. He was always the strong one, the one that had enough in his heart to hope for the best. I try to be like him even though I don’t succeed. Seeing his hope fly right out the window was like taking a knife to the chest. I screamed and dropped to my knees on the floor. I knew it was bad to let him see me like this but I couldn’t control any of it. I couldn’t get up, I couldn’t stop crying, I couldn’t breathe, The pain wouldn’t go away.

I wish I could say he went in peace, not feeling anything, but I’d be lying. He went with a fight and was in pain. He writhed against the sheets with his back arching off the bed in pain. Nurses were holding me back so I couldn’t interfere with the passing. So I couldn’t hurt anyone because in the moment I was homicidal. I felt the rage and hate fill every cell of my body as God took my life from me. He sucked the last essences of the sweet beautiful soul I loved so much. When he was gone I went to him. I crawled to him because I couldn’t walk. There was no possible way I could have walked in that moment. I grabbed his hand and found a paper. "I love you so much, baby. Don't you ever forget that? I’m so proud of you." The paper said written in his sloppy scrawl. Oh God! The pain that shot through me was indescribable, but really how do you explain your life, your soul, your heart getting ripped in two and half of it disappearing into air? I lay there shaking, rocking, crying, and screaming.

I wanted to kill myself I’ll admit it. I wanted to so bad that I had knifes to my wrists, guns to my head, but when I was about to find peace I remembered something he said to me, "Listen to me, baby girl. When I’m gone I want you to go on, I don’t want you to go and be miserable. Okay? I want you to find someone else and be happy. Please baby, please be happy, for me be happy. I love you so much. Make me proud! Do something great with your life!!!!" That was always enough to make me stop. Even though I still hurt for him and love him, I’m moving on, I will never forget him...I may be moving slowly but at least I’m still moving, and that’s more than most can say.

So, Micheal, my dear. Now you know. I want to be a SEAL for him. I want to be happy for him. I loved him, love him. But I love you too, and I always will. Even if you don’t love me, just know I love you. I’m sorry if you don’t feel the same and you think this is annoying and a waste of your time… but yeah… I don’t know, there’s nothing really to say because it explains it all. I love you. And I hope you aren’t mad that I wrote your story.