I pray for you

Growing up I had millions of dreams of what I wanted to become one day. What I wanted to spend my life doing. Doctor, Vet, Teacher. And I often found myself praying for God to lead me to them. One thing that in the back of my mind I knew I was going to eventually become was a mom. But to be honest, I never was excited about becoming a mom. I figured that when it happened that I would be overly excited of course but, I never for a second thought that it would become a dream of mine. Now I find myself praying not for a certain job but that God not only blesses me with a child; that God blesses the child he gives me. I pray for them all the time. I pray for their well-being. Their health. I pray that they have courage and live life full of bravery. That when they are faced with something that may scare them that they have extradionary faith in God that they fiercely face down and overcome them. I pray that no matter what is life they live that they always walk faithfully with God. That in times of struggle that they turn to God. I pray that the weight of this world never touches their shoulders. I pray that they chase life; conquer their dreams and then some. I pray that they always hold God first and family 2nd. I pray that when they are surrounded by family and loved ones that they take a moment to listen to their laughter and soak it in. I pray they realize that those moments full of God and family are the moments to cherish. I pray that they put others before themselves. I pray that help this world to see God’s glory in all things. I pray that they laugh more than they cry. I pray that any scars that come along their journey that they never hide them but rejoice in Gods healing. I pray that they have hearts that forgive easily. I pray that they live a life that God is proud of and that they are proud of. I pray for them to know that they have always and will always be loved.

You see where I used to daydream about becoming rich and buying things that I want I now daydream of counting my childs toes. I imagine them learning to tie their shoes and getting excited with them. I imagine them crawling into my bed in the middle of the night afraid from a nightmare. I picture myself cheering them on playing sports. I worry that I will cry their first day of school. But at the same time hope for nights helping them with homework. I crave for sleepless nights. I crave for them going off with their aunts and uncles for the day. I crave waving bye a thousand times and blowing them kisses. I wish for them to have a special relationship with each person of our family. I laugh at the thought of inside jokes or watching them chase family around. But most of all I smile at the thought of being called mom.


Turning the page

How do you flip the page to start a new beginning when you don’t even know how to be alive in the present. Standing in the middle of the room it feels as if the world is moving faster and faster and I am standing still watching everyone. As time passes, the days keep going by I see myself losing my will. My will to fight, laugh, love, take in the little moments, to be creative with life, to wake up in the morning; place my feet on the ground and decide where my feet were taking myself that day. My will to feel the wind move around me with my eyes open listening to the spirit of the world. Most of all my will to dream. Which is something that I never thought I would hear myself say. Ever since I was little I dreamed of having the struggle. People always thought I was insanely crazily out of my mind when they would ask me, “What do you dream of?’ with a grin “Living a life of struggle.” Every time I would look in their eyes. you want to know what I would see? It was always one of three things. 1-  shes insane. 2. I know what you mean but your insane. 3. your going to beat the struggle one day. I hate that I have let that go. It has always been my favorite quality. That quality dared me to dream bigger and bigger everyday

“You look like your in the middle of a valley.” When I walked into work this morning this is what I heard. Turning around I saw my boss standing beside me. Starting to vent about everyday problems I realized something. That no one had ever asked me that before. Sure, I have been asked is everything okay or is something going on but not that you look like your in the middle of a valley. My mind went to the verse through the valley of darkness your light will guide me. And as random as that statement was at that moment it felt like God speaking to me. Gently reminding me to hold on. to search for his light. That you are in darkness right now but that he was still with me. I also realized how far I had let myself get from my faith. The loneliness I felt so harshly the past few months suddenly was lifted away and I felt grace. I felt Gods embrace fall over me and hug me. It felt as he was taking me under his wing and telling me to rest that he is in control. It was the best feeling. Nothing had physically changed and no situation had differ. But the moment I stopped just for a split second of not focusing on what was going wrong and let God rush in made such a world of difference. It took just a second of him to change everything. That night I stepped back and took a look at the past months and all of a sudden I could see what everyone had been talking about. How much I had changed. How much the darkness wore on me. how much I let it in and pushed out the blessings. I was a completely different person. I started at home and started focusing on my family and friends. Changing how I was with them and then I threw myself into work. I worked my hands to death and pushed myself farther than I had ever been in my job. Before 6 months had passed I was being talked to about a promotion. 2 years later and I am now my bosses right hand worker. I went from my boss wanting to fire me to her promoting me. I turned my life around. I fought for the life I knew I wanted and the life that I knew God was ready for me to have.


Night time has always been my favorite part of the day. As far back as I can remember.  The night always captured a part of myself. A part of myself that I never truly understood. When I was younger it was wishing I could be like my older siblings that were allowed to stay up later than myself. As I got into my teenage years the night meant adventures with my friends and 8 o’clock movies. By the end of high school the night was for athletic games and wherever the party was at that weekend. It wasn’t until after my first year college that the night hours went from being a typical scene of a freshman in college to something brand new. You see before it was always about where everyone else was… what is everyone else doing? After that first year the night time actually became something. It became a part of me. Maybe it had to do with the fact that the rest of the world faded away or that I could actually hear myself think. I don’t know what created my relationship with the night; all I do know is that the night hours have kept me sane through so many daylight hours. I first noticed it when a friend pointed out that she could never hold a conversation with me after the sun went down. That once the moon rose and stars begun their nightly dance that I was somewhere else. It was the truth. I love counting stars. I love creating shapes by connecting the dots. I love the gentle breeze. I love the sound of silence so sweet that you can hear the trees swaying side to side. I love thinking about whomever maybe out there starring with me. I love the sculpted moon and how you can see its imperfections. I love that the appearance of everything has faded into shadows. There is a beauty found within the shadows. The shadows cause you to get to know something for what it is; not what it looks like. And at the same time it forces you to realize how much you truly know the world that surrounds you. It is kind of like walking down the hallway with no light on. You either know the way to your room or you stumble. I like getting to know the world around me. It is peaceful to me. Its hopeful to me. You see the night also means that a new day is just a few hours away. But don’t take my story as just a romance with the night. Our relationship holds many different keys and each night holds the potential of unlocking new things.

The final knife

I don’t even know what to say to you. I imagine what I would say to you the next time I saw you… what I would do. I wonder if I would let you know that I still constantly replay that last week in my head. I wonder if it ever crosses your mind of what you did. Not what you think you did, but what you actually did to me. And if you do think about it; do you regret it? Does all of the memories that we created come rushing back? Yeah, we have always had our moments that we needed a time out from one another. I guess that should have been a sign that you were just a character in my story that was meant to just pass through. But regardless of any of the other times did I ever think that this was it. I always held onto the fact that our friendship had value. Any time out we had they were never a result of the lack of friendship. They happened because we are different people. We always have been. We embraced our differences. That’s why we were always having the time of our lives. We had the other one pushing ourselves out of our comfort zone and into a new adventure. But being as different as we were made it hard sometimes to not lose it with one another. We would just take a break from being constantly connected. The question that keeps creeping back into my mind is when did we stop embracing the fact that we were different and becoming embarrassed of the other? When did our time outs become the result of hurting the other? When did the lines of how far we could push our friendship get blurry? But most of all when did it become okay to risk our friendship for just the sake of it? You see the person that I am writing this letter to isn’t the same person that I grew up with. I didn’t build sand castles with you at recess. I didn’t make the promises of always being here for one another with you. I didn’t take spare of the moment beach trips with you. I made those memories; shared those moments with the person that you used to be. The version of you that I actually cared for. I don’t know when this version of you showed up. I can recall moments that I met her a few times though. But the moment that you actually became her full time; I don’t know. I cant tell you that because despite what everyone else told me or when someone would warn me that you were secretly holding a knife behind your back; I always had hope in the friend, the person, that I knew that you could be. I was blindsided to the fact that it is very possible for someone to not be who they claim to be. That last week that I saw you; you put on the performance of your life. I applaud you. You fooled me I will admit. You were out having the time of your life and I was at home with my bags packed waiting on you to show up. The thoughts of you not showing up crossed my mind but instead of realizing it I decided to believe what you were texting me. “Speeding your way.” “Be there soon.” “I am so excited for tonight.” For hours you performed excellently. And not even just by the words you said, but the extent that you were willing to let it get to. Sadly, how far you decided to take it wasn’t even the attempts to save me from it all not even the littlest part was for me. You took that entire day so far in attempts to save yourself from just telling the truth. You talked up our plans all day. You made it seem like you were counting down the minutes. You even let me leave one of my best friends baby shower early in order to meet at my house in time to head out. You let me get dressed and pack my bags. You let me sit on my bed anxiously waiting for your arrival. You even took it as far as to snap at me, blame your instructor being mad on me, guilt tripping me that now because of you leaving you maybe held back in class. You even started to get upset at me because I was ready for you to be here. Adding to it all you made it seem like it was my decision to not go anymore. The joke was on me. The entire time you were “on your way to me,” you were actually headed in the opposite direction with other people to a different event. While I was sitting on my bed waiting along feeling sorry for all of the bad things happening to you but for myself from the way you were treating me. Just take a moment. Think about what I am saying. Imagine it in your mind. I was sitting on my bed, bags packed, ready. So damn excited. And you purposely went out of your way to crush that excitement to the point where I just didn’t want to go anymore. Which in reality was the goal because you were already on your way elsewhere. Can you imagine it? Can you imagine the feeling of humailty I felt? the embarrassment? But even after you made it to your endgame of getting me to cancel the night so you could go off and have guilt free fun you still decided to take it a step farther. You went on to delete me from snapchat. Not because we were already at odds ends, but for two reasons… 1. you knew that instead of being with you at the event we planned for months to attend I was at home feeling every which way so you didn’t want me to see what you were actually doing. 2… you simply wanted to be able to post your night of fun.. We had been best friends since we were little girls. Literally years and years of friendship were gambled away that night. You created all of this chaos just in the hopes of not having to say the truth. That you would have rathered gone out with the guy than go with me. And the funny part about it all was that I knew that you wanted to go with him. I could tell from the moment you had realized that both events were happening on the same night. See in doing all of these things you were preying on the fact that I forgive easily, that I rarely get mad, and that a majority of the time I decide to over look things. You knew that if you pressed the right buttons that I would have more than likely called the night off. It does show that you do indeed know what type of person I try to be. But it also shows that you never took the time to actually get to know me. Not the in general facts and qualities I hold but how I take others into consideration before acting or that I would never put my wants above what you want. Even if it was just for a boy. You knew my personality but you didn’t know my heart. If you did than you would’ve known that if you were just honest that I honestly wouldn’t have cared if you bailed. Because there were so many options that we could’ve done for someone else to go in your place. Ticket swaping was very quite simple. but once again you sadly didn’t think to give me that option either. All that crossed your mind was how would you get what you wanted at the end of the night. Yeah, I was disappointed and was hurt because of everything. I still am. The person I called friend would have insisted on me coming with her. the truth is I think this cut so deeply with me was because all things that were said, happened you made the decision each time. And it was the first time that I realized there was a good possibility that in all of the years of our friendship that maybe the person I called a friend was the version of that was actually the lie. That maybe the version of you that you were that night is the actual you.  And looking back it amazes me that it took you standing me up of all things to make me see that. There are knifes in my back that hold your fingerprints with darker stories. I don’t know why it was this time but when the truth came out it was as the hope that  I have always had in you in a instance just vanished. The hope that has lead me countless times to defend you regardless of who it was to. The hope that I held onto because I just knew who you were. It was just gone. I didn’t have hope that we would talk it out. I didn’t hope that you would spin another story that would make me over look it. I guess that is the feeling someone gets when you all of a sudden lose all respect for someone. I say I guess because I have never been to that point with anyone else before. Everyone keeps saying that I will forgive you. Which I wont deny it is the truth. I will forgive you. I am working on it. Writing this helps. I’m not ashamed of forgiving easily. We are human. We all make mistakes. We all do things that are questionable through others eyes. I make mistakes. I am nothing nor no one to hold back giving forgiveness. So, yeah the truth is that I will forgive you. But listen when I say this the day I forgive you isn’t a day when we become friends again. That day will be the day that I can walk by you and not urge to hit you. It will be the day that we can be in the same room and it doesn’t cross my mind to say hello. It will be the day that my heart is rid of hate and anger; a day that my shoulders are lighter. A day that I will wish you the best but be rid of the last bit of anything that I am holding on to for you. I will have removed the knifes from where you placed them and have tossed them aside. It will be a day that I feel proud of myself.. Proud that despite the numerous knifes that cut through me that I was strong enough to rise up, deal with it, remove them and still be able to forgive their owner.  I honestly don’t know when that will be or if you will ever know that I forgave you. I don’t know what to say exactly… I just wonder if you think about what you actually did that day.

Can you even hear me screaming? I honestly don’t think anyone does most days. I hear everyone screaming. I put myself last every single time. If something can be done to help those screams become into echoes of past demons then I will proudly put myself out of the equation to help whoever against those demons. I am talking about demons that live inside us all. Every single one of us. Some of us can hide them better than others. Some of us you can just look into their eyes and see their battles. I guess I am one of the of ones who can hide them. There are days I can argue that its a good quality. On the other hand there are days that I feel frozen watching everyone else living and I wonder how can they not notice. There are moments that I love being able to be strong for myself; there are moments that I am desperate for someone to be strong for me. Do you know the demons that I am talking about? I don’t care what you say we all have them. They live inside of us and tell us things like… why are you even trying? why are you doing so much? Give up! your not good enough! They answer to many names though. Demons is what I refer to them as. Insecurities, fears, self-doubt, self-hate. Those are just a few of the demons I am talking about. None of us welcome them in but they creep in at some point. At some point we open the door into our minds and slowly they take over. You find that you have gone from finding shapes in the clouds to wanting to float away on one. I don’t believe that happiness is a destination nor something you can achieve. I believe that happiness is a state of mind; a choice. A choice everyday to just be happy that you have the choice of what to do today. A choice that you are aloud to be happy. The thing is that even when you chose happy the demons within you don’t care. If they cant get to you from within yourself they more than likely call over to their demon friends within someone else and say “hey this girl is ignoring me. can you speak up?’ All of a sudden people around you their words seem to cut deeper. Your conversations go from simply talking to simply trying to slash that glow you decided to have today in half. They actions have gone from supporting you, understanding, trying to work with you to trying to put you back into your place. You then have the choice of slashing back or walking away. Although, walking away is the correct answer every time. Walking away feels empowering. You are deciding to hold onto your power instead of giving it up to whoever it maybe. But its like with every step you take away you still somehow have a feeling underneath the power of walking away like you are disgusted by your own actions. You didn’t do anything to deserve to be slashed at. You didn’t do anything to be their target. Your actions were just and you want them to know. As you continue to walk away every step you take you question each step. You fight every urge to scream out STOP! you want to rewind but you keep stepping away from it. Maybe even after a little time pass can you go back and explain to them. Can you do that? Itd take away from the disgusting feeling you have. But are you making the right decision or are you wanting to talk about it still because you low key have your own sword behind your back and want to chop up their glow without even knowing it? What if they had moved on and their demons were silenced and you are just about to slash away for no reason but to wake them up again? Is walking away the only option?  Even in those moments I can feel myself screaming for them to hear me; to see me. I often find myself wondering if no one puts theirselves in others shoes anymore. Like before they speak or act. Do people still think before they speak? Do they wonder hey what if this was me? I have hope in humanity I honestly do. In a world this cruel and full of chaos there is still love. But I wonder if there is still people out there that think before drawing out their swords.









Yesterday we stayed up all night long talking. We laughed so hard. We always do though. What did we talk about? God could only tell us. Is it crazy to say that it feels like we talk about everything but nothing at the same time. We have had so many conversations and although I cant tell you one conversation; this is what I can tell you without any doubt. Our conversations were limitless. I use the word “were” because its been months since we have had one of our limitless conversations. I said yesterday because that’s what it feels like. It has been the better half of four months since you died. It feels like yesterday though. You hear people say that time heals all wounds. Which could be true. I honestly don’t know. I have experienced my share of loss in life. I have fought my way through grief a few times. But I say, maybe for a flesh wound that time could heal. What heals something that has completely shattered your heart into pieces?  Personally, I don’t believe there is something that is in this world that can heal those wounds.

There are still moments that I find myself forgetting that you are gone. When something happens or I have had a great day and all I want to do is pick up phone dial your number and tell you every second of my day. Its the moments that I reach for my phone but in mid reach realize that you aren’t going to answer. Its that moment that I get taken right back to the moment that I was told you were gone. Confusion, a slow numbing breaking feeling rushing over me. As if the next step I take will be in quick sand.  Death isn’t something we can escape but for some reason you place all your loved ones in a unbreakable box which death doesn’t exist. I think that’s why confusion is one of the first feelings someone feels.

You have no idea how much I crave one of our limitless conversations. To feel like I am completely safe and at home. To feel secured beyond any means in this world. A place that I can run fiercely into and collapse without the hesitation of being caught. To know that the other person on the other side of the phone was just as anxious to talk to you. Every night we talked until the wee hours of the morning but I cant say that we ever talked about one thing. Talking to you was like writing in my dairy. Safe, open, no judgement, endless pages, above anything else just being there. I never felt alone; you never let me. Although I didnt think that the thought of me being lonely ever crossed your mind. It just came natural to you. To anyone that came to know you though not just me. Over the past four months I have gotten the chance to taste the feeling of being alone. The ache of a silent night. The wrenching sensation of wanting to talk about something and having no one to call. The stillness of holding a phone in my hand knowing that if it goes off it wont be you. The numbing of a endless hope on a empty wish that it was all a joke. Or the throbbing slap of reality that seeing you again is a literally a lifetime away.

You are literally a lifetime away from me. I know the pain of loss. I know the struggle of grieving a loved one but none of the others that I have lost I have ever felt the sting of that sentence as deeply and as hallow as I have with losing you.

It amazes me to think back to times that I have ever said the words “Oh I have known him forever.” yes I knew you my entire life. We grew up together. You have always been apart of my life. But the feeling of forever of knowing you and the feeling of forever until I get to see you again has me stunned. I never thought of forever having different meanings. Well having different senses of the meaning I guess I should say. There is a good side of forever and a bad side. I am on the bad side right now.

Nighttime used to be my favorite part of the day. No explanation why it just was. Even since before our nightly talks were happening. I loved the stillness, the story of nighttime. When we started to have our talks it just added to it all. Now nighttime feels as a chore. Something that has to happen. I still find the beauty of the stars dancing in the sky. The moon still holds wonder for me. The breeze of the wind throughout the trees is still a beautiful dance. But now that you are gone my nights feel like a piece is missing. I find my heart searching for a piece that makes it feel like its at home and safe. I find my eyes flooding with tears because the thought that the last time we talked was actually the last time is too much to understand. I find the bitterness of an awful after taste of regret creep on in. I replay and replay our last conversation. I rewrite it to silence my mind and to forget so I can fall asleep but I toss and turn through the night.

Even though I have experienced all of this and have drowned in grief over losing you; I have also lived in denial. I have pushed the day of your funeral or the fact that your actually home less than 10 miles from me just six feet under to the back of my mind and buried it. I let myself forget what happened because the reality of the truth is I cant handle you being gone. The fact that you are lifetime, my lifetime, away from me is unbearable to even begin to wrap my mind around. How am I supposed to accept the fact that you are gone? How I am supposed to deal with not having my best friend? I feel regret for the last night we spoke or the moments I hid from. I feel dirty for finding ways to forget that you are gone. It doesn’t feel right even though I am doing it willingly to ignore the thought of you just so I can ease my own suffering. I was just finding my grips on clawing myself out of my grief of losing my grandma. I was so close on being to the surface of the realizing she was gone when it was as someone reached over to help pull me the rest of the way but instead in the moment I was in completely trust of being pulled up, the moment that I felt my walls breaking down around me and let the feeling of being on solid ground consume me that I found myself free falling straight back into the ground. No matter how much I tried to embrace myself for the impact  nothing that I could of done would’ve helped though.

You were my best friend and will always be my best friend. I never thought I would’ve came to a point in my life that you weren’t going to be there. I don’t know why things happen especially why this had to happen to you. I don’t know when you became my best friend nor do I remember the moment I fell in love with you. I don’t know why it wasn’t in the cards for me to get more than just a glimpse of you instead of a lifetime of memories. I don’t know when you went from being a friend that I talked to from time to time to a person that I leaned on as a constant. I just know that you were my best friend and now you a lifetime away. I know that I miss you so much. I miss you so much that it hurts. How does that happen? Nothing physical happened to me but it hurts like something went through my heart and twisted. I guess I had to find quick fixes like temporary band aids to keep my heart from bleeding out. That’s what it felt like the days following your funeral. As if every time I cried my heart out blood was pouring out of me. I also felt the depth of our relationship. I never realized how much we had grown together. How much I leaned on you until I hit the ground.

Now I am spending my days trying to claw myself up again. I try to get up far enough to catch a breath of fresh air but it never lasts for too long. some days the hurt is absent but anger has taken its place.














The clock was falling closer towards dawn as I just continued to toss and flip around. That feeling had set in on me. The undeniable weight of the truth of what is heading your way. Full force with no chance of avoiding it in any way. There really isn’t a name for it; I refer to it as death. Not actual death, but the concept of it. The permanent unshakeable feeling of it. That moment you have been dreading but ultimately know it is coming. You go on each day trying to live it without the fear or even the thoughts of what is coming for you. Call it denial if you will, but in some ways denial isn’t a bad thing.  Especially, if there is a period of waiting for something to happen. For example, when a loved one is on their final stretch of their life. You, their loved one, are told to prepare yourself. I have had loved ones pass on without having the chance to say goodbye. I have had loved ones that have a timer floating above their heads. That morning I couldn’t sleep. I kept running through the past few weeks of mine, my families actions. Trying to piece together how we actually got to this point. At some point throughout that night without noticing or really even knowing but it was as someone silently whispered into my ear that it was the end. That before the night was over and the sun rose that my phone would ring with the bone wrenching news being said out loud. We were given anywhere from a week to a month with my grandmother, Charsley. Her opponent was cancer.  When I was a child cancer dared to enter the ring with my grandmother for the first time. It went for her breasts. I was at the age that now looking back moments of those days seem foggy. I remember the fear on my family’s faces. The seriousness of every moment. I also remember the relief; the release of weight from the air when my grandmother conquered cancer. After her victory cancer stayed away from our family. Until, I was a senior in high school. My sisters best friend, Jenessee, was diagnosed with a rare type of brain cancer. They were together so much that before too long she turned into another sister to me. She was given a few months given that it was stage four. She fought like hell. She dug down deep and became a warrior. She fought past her timeline. Even though during that time we were all in a unknown state of time but after we passed the time length placed on her; we were in more of unknown state of time. Time we had left with her. Time to make memories. Time to say goodbye. Now it was more of a worry that each time we spent time with her that it’d be the last. There were many days within the following months that we rushed into the hospital in hopes of a final “I love you,” or “see you soon.” No matter what we did though we couldn’t honestly plan on being there for that moment to get that chance. Cancer won that fight that December. Without a doubt she won the war.  This was the first time I ever felt the feeling of “death.”  That entire year I knew unless she was given a miracle that goodbye was coming sooner rather than later. Even with knowing that the feeling of the end wasn’t known until the weeks before it was here. It was like the air had the warnings within it. “Get ready,” it whispered. All of a sudden you have a glimpse of what the end of someone’s life feels like. Comforting but devastating. It eats at you throughout all hours of the day, night. Do you act on the feeling? Do you warn them of this unshakeable feeling that is covering you? Or do you act as before and just use the time you have before what is coming gets there? These were all the questions that filled my mind.









Do you ever feel like that you personally know what the meaning of being alive is? I don’t mean the actually definition of the word alive either. I’m talking about what it takes to be alive. Some may argue that there isn’t a difference, but there actually is. There is a difference between being alive and living. I cant speak for everyone, but I know for myself even though I am only 23 years old and still have a lot of life left to live; I always felt like I had a good concept of what the meaning of being alive in this life meant. It could mean different things for different people. To some people it could be just getting through the day. To others it maybe conquering everything that may scare them. I guess it depends on the life that each person lives. Growing up I never realized that there was difference. I did what I loved, I surrounded myself with people that made my heart smile and I truly felt happy with life, my life. It wasn’t until I graduated high school that I had a reality slap that I had no clue what living meant. The first two years after graduating I had it built in my mind that to be free and alive that it meant going, going, going; constantly on the go. Doing things that filled my days and nights. Looking back three years later I honestly remember a select few times throughout those years. And those moments aren’t remembered because they were epic or moments that I was full of life. The harsh reality of it is that in those moments I wasn’t wasted. For those two years I did what I wanted whenever I wanted. If my friends did it then most likely I was going to do it as well. At the time I thought that I was living. I was dating a guy that I knew from the first day that it would never be anything more then what it was at that moment. Him being the wrong guy didn’t bother me though. He was my best friends boyfriend’s best friend so I built it up to what is the harm of just having fun with a summer fling. We could just have fun together hanging out all four us. I mean how awesome would is it that you and your best friend are dating best friends. It was awesome. It was fun. I was alive. Once Summer started coming towards an end I started my normal routine to get ready for school to start. It was during that time when I started noticing again how much we were different people. It wasn’t so much that he did annoying things or that he wasn’t a good guy. He was by all means. He treated me like a princess. I felt loved and he made me feel alive when we were together. When I say that we weren’t the same type of people I am meaning in the way of what we wanted to get out of life. I often compare it to the way we were raised. Which isn’t something I would like to say that I judge of someone, but in some sense I have to admit that aspect can affect my relationship with another. I by no means had a perfect life. My family had hardships. We didn’t live in a nice neighborhood. We lived paycheck to paycheck. I wouldn’t hold that against someone else. When I say “the way we were raised,” I am referring to the certain lessons, values, and morals that my parents taught to me growing up. Honestly, how can you be with someone in that way that you don’t even value the same things in life. Who I am and how I want to live my life comes from those lessons I was taught. Certain things that I based my life around he would mock. He wasn’t my reality slap. That was the fear and regret I felt when I thought I was pregnant. Having that scare and realizing how stupid it is to let yourself go that far to even be in that situation with someone that you knew you didn’t want to be anything more then a fling. That was my reality slap. I realized that how I was living wasn’t living at all. The road I was traveling down that I thought was me being alive was just me being reckless and careless. I was actually living a life that I always said that I wouldn’t. I realized that the time I spent with him knowing that I didn’t want him for life I took it away from spending it getting ready for the guy I wanted for life. That when the only reason I should date someone is if I see potential of spending forever with them. After that I stepped back from my life and took one of those hard looks at it. I subtracted the bad and added what I truly needed which was God. I spent less time out with my friends and more time with him. I had never felt more alive then I did when I grabbed ahold of his hands again. I saw myself making moments with my family and laughing more.  I guess you  learn the meaning of being alive a little more as time goes by with the more life you live. I know for me being alive is made up of every moment of memory i have made with the people I adore.




my safe place

I write this blog to let out my inner thoughts when I don’t know how to or whenever I cant speak the words I want to say but I have recently experienced a situation that I have always known is something that happens on a daily basis, but just not in my world. When I log on to write I usually have a sense of the words I want to write but with this I don’t even know how to begin. It has been two weeks since it has happened and my mind is still replaying that day over and over again. It is on constant replay. I cant even bring myself to say let alone write the words that happen. It happened to my mom. With that being said let me give you a background into my moms character. She is the woman who picks up homeless people knowing the evil in this world. She still does it. She will stay in contact with them bring them food especially on the holidays. She is one of the reasons why I have a positive attitude towards life and have the faith that I do. She gives her last to her four kids and even to a complete stranger. She hugs everyone and everyone is sweetie. She is the definition of a southern belle. She goes over and beyond for anyone and everyone. People call her for advice or for help. She has such a strong heart that people that barely know her feel comfortable enough to call her talk for hours ask for help and pray with her. She is a blessing in all aspects. She is someone that I have seen conquer all mountains that are in her path with a smile on her face. God has thrown curve balls at her many times to test her strength and each time its without fail that even if she doesn’t succeeded the first or second time; she will keep on fighting until she is on the other side. I have never seen my mom so broken, so scared, just not full of life as she always is. When I woke up that morning I knew something was wrong. The light in her eyes wasn’t burning as bright. I could feel that something terrible had happened. When I asked her; her response was ” Nothing is wrong babygirl. Momma is just tired. ” I knew that it had to be horrible for her to lie to me knowing I know her like the back of my hand. That morning she came and attempted to wake me up a few times but I just rolled over. She asked me not to go into work so I could stay with her but I went in. I thought that maybe she was just tired. When I got home I thought I would take my niece to the store so she could sleep some. That night when I got home I went straight to bed. That’s when my dad woke me up balling his eyes out and told me what had happened.Instantly I was in tears. I ran to her and just held her. She didn’t deserve what happened. She didn’t deserve to be robbed of her security. She is the most safe person I know. My dad had just left for work that morning and she usually comes back to bed locks the door and just stays inside until I am awake. She didn’t that morning. She went outside to grab something out of the car when he came from behind. What was I doing while this horrible event was happening? Asleep. Peacefully in bed. My four year old niece just two bed rooms away. The front door was wide open. I keep replaying the what ifs. I know its not ever a good thing because we cant go back and fix them. I am usually the first to say that if I could go back and change anything that I wouldn’t change a thing but if you were to ask me now. I wouldn’t hesitate to change that experience. I cant. So now I am left with the what ifs. What if I were to of woken up and noticed the door was open and stopped him? What if he would have killed her and he came inside to my niece and myself? What if I was outside with her and he just stayed away? What if I would have woken up and my mom just be gone and the front door open? What if I called 911 and held him there with my gun pointed him and the police arrived and took him away? What if I could have been awake and kept her from just going outside? What if I would have woken up or stayed home that maybe she wouldn’t have waited an entire day to tell us anything? What if after what if after what if. We have lived here for 25 years. Even though it was out of my moms character to be outside no one can blame her for feeling safe in a neighborhood that she has spent most of her life. I cant blame myself and I don’t because if I was meant to wake up God would’ve woken me up. It happened and I am a firm believer in everything happens for a reason but why did this have to happen? Especially to a person like my mom. I cant sleep through the nights anymore. I toss and turn replaying it. People say that people that do crimes like that typically come back to the scene so what if I am sleeping and he comes back. I cant and wont let that happen again. I will say I am and will continue to wear that on my shoulders. God lets everything happen for a reason and during that time he proved it to be true once again. We saved a newborn puppy from being killed about a year ago. He is a little dog. Not no killer for sure. He sleeps inside every night. That little puppy had the wrath of God in him that morning when he heard my mom screaming. He ran outside and started attacking him. Which led to him getting frustrated and running away. A little dog that’s probably not even 15 pounds not only saved my moms life but in cruel honest reality saved my nieces life along with my own. A year ago we thought he ran into our yard so we could save him but in reality God sent him to us because he knew what satan was planning two weeks ago. Its been two weeks and day by day I see the light in my moms eyes come back. Slowly but surely. We are all afraid. We don’t go outside unless we have our guns on us and without another person. After dark none of venture outside. Every man we see that usually we would give a friendly wave to maybe even a smile; now is someone that it could have been. It was my mom that it happened to and I feel like I am more scared than anyone else. The mornings before it happened I had been leaving for work at the same time it happened. On routine. The houses behind us had said that they noticed in the past few days maybe a week a man wondering the woods around the houses and the streets. We found a spot in the woods behind our house that looked like someone had tore down branches and had a few drinks. A place that he could see us but we couldn’t see him. The cops had said that since I had been leaving that time daily the past week that it could have been that he was waiting for me but mom went outside first. He knew who’s cars belonged to who to know who was home and who had left. He knew the times that people left the house. He knew that I was home with my mom. Frankly, he didn’t find me a threat to his plan. I hate that. Maybe he was waiting for dad to leave so he could come inside and God sent mom out so that wouldn’t have  happened because he knew he was sending our dog to save her. I will never know the reasons or the answers to my what ifs until I meet the man upstairs one day. I just know that I am grateful more than anything that none of us meet him that day and we still have one another to lean on for support. I feel thankful but I feel scared. No, I am scared. I feel like he knew who, what, when, how he was going to do it because he had been watching us. And we didn’t even know it. I feel like a target. I feel belittled. I feel like my safe place isn’t safe anymore. Which it isn’t. At least not in my eyes. I wake up check my gun, unload it, load it, check my windows, lock my doors, on repeat. We haven’t left my mom alone since it has happened. Someone is always here with her. That includes me. When everyone else has work and I don’t I am here. I feel like a joke because I am more scared than she is. A person walking by is automatically a danger. I keep my gun next to me. I find myself acting brave around my mom and it kills me because she is who I run to when I am scared. Now its supposed to be the other way around and she keeps asking me to be strong. I smile and say of course mom. When I am praying the entire time for God to keep danger away. I myself have found myself gaining my courage back day by day but in reality I am still scared beyond belief. I want him caught and taken away. I want to move. Even though what happened happens everywhere, everyday. I still want to move. I want to sell the car get a new one and run basically. I wasn’t raised that way. I was raised to be fearless. I usually would tell you all that I am. I don’t blink to danger. I know God is with me within me and is watching me. Whom shall I fear if I have the power of God by me but satan has tricks to get into peoples live when we wont let him in ourselves. He uses other people to do his dirty work. Before i walked fearless, before that “man” steal my peace of mind. He stole my safe place. He stole my moms safe place. He stole our ability to find the positive in all and walk without fear. I hate it. I hate that day. I hate not waking up for her. I hate not feeling safe. I hate that he is out walking around. I hate that it happens everyday. I hate him.

I just want my mom to have the light back in her eyes. I want our safe place to be safe.

When it happened I saw a side of me that wanted to hurt a man and to make him suffer. Now I find myself praying that for the same man that stole my safe place. I pray for my family above anything for comfort and peace and strength. I pray for that man to find the grace of our God and to change his ways so he doesn’t hurt any other. I pray that God works inside of him to turn himself in. I find myself praying that God has mercy on his soul the day they come face to face. I pray that I wont be the reason why they meet sooner than planned. I pray that Gods light shines through us even more.

I pray for all the girls in the world that have had this happen to them.

trying to make it

You always hear about how college kids work crazy amounts of jobs or just plain crazy jobs to get by while going to school and the people who say those things are completely correct.

I go to school full time and I work full time at my church. Saturdays are my only “me” days. Even with doing that I still seem to end up taking side jobs that “normal” people would run from.

I love children and I love that I get to work them almost everyday but with working with children you get to know their parents and sometimes that leads to one of two things or at times both. One… the parents love you and want you to babysit. two… they highly “dislike” you and drop the kids off and go so we don’t have to make awkward small talk.. finally, three….. some love you and some highly “dislike” you.

Thank God that so far in 5 years a majority of my parents seem to love me.

which means….. I get asked to babysit a lot…. and as a broke college kid.. its hard to say no. its hard to say no in general based on just the type of person I am.

so that means since 6:30 this morning  until 5:30 today I will be over at a old coworkers house watching her three kiddos while she is at a teaching conference. 10 hours….! i love their mom and I would do anything for her but she is crazy. I was over here 10 hours yesterday and when I pull up this morning I notice that there are bikes sitting out/ I come inside and asked her husband if they went on a bike ride yesterday after i left and he smiles as he is saying “Those are left out for you. She told the kids that yall were going on a bike ride today.”

[confused but serious face on]  I slowly smile a little and say that sounds fun. My real thoughts were ” you gotta be damn kidding me.. it aint enough that im here for 10 hours hanging out with two 8 year olds and a  year old or that its 106 degrees outside but you tell them a damn bike ride. damnnnnnnnn lana you know ive packe don a few extra pounds and im not very good at cardio.” lol

lets just say im happy no one can hear my mind.

for three days i will be here and after i get out of here today i go straight into my actual work untl 9 to be back here at 6:30am lol

why cant the cost of living be simple so i don’t have to do crazy things like watch 3 kids that aren’t mine for 10 hours and then a pull a extra shift for my actual work.

i mean i like to sleep too!