depressing

so i was in a good mood all day. bad news came. then i read my stupid friends bulletin and i'm bawling

"so, i was taking a shower early this morning and i had been thinking of the last time i saw joey....it made me think of how many other women have been in my position and how most people can not relate....
here it is...my words, my heart, my greatest loss. it may be jumbled but this is rawness.


it was the night i found out he had re-enlisted to the army after being in already for 3 years. he was almost done. i looked at him and asked him if he knew how hard it was for the "wives" of military men to watch them walk out the door. he replied with "baby, i know but i'll be back."
its not that simple.
we, as the women, know that there is a greater chance that when he leaves for work, he wont come back. he isnt just gone a few hours a day. its months at a time where we lie in bed praying for just another morning and another night for his life to keep on going. each person endures risk of fatality just walking out the door and anyone can die at any given moment, but when its like this....
....its just not the same.
we cherish the 10 minute phone calls we get maybe once a week from over seas. we weep every night as we clutch his latest letter to our heart. his picture beside the bed, we look to him every night and say sweet dreams, because somehow we know, wherever he is stationed....he would do the exact same thing.
tomorrow is never a guarantee.

anyway, as i hugged him and kissed him before he turned to leave, i knew in my heart that i would never see him again. a little less than a year from this night we were to be married. i held him and said "im proud of you for fighting for me and the rest of this country."
and then a grown man cried.
he always said he felt this is what he needed to do.
i never quite understood.
but he wasnt fighting just to fight. he was fighting for my future and our kid's future.

so many wives get to curl up with their husbands every night. they fight over stupid things, but in the end....they have him. right there. in front of their faces.
i have a picture.
so many people take for granted what they have. so many people complain about their jobs and how tired they are. i tell them to try and walk a mile in a military man's shoes. these men leave behind their whole lives to fight for you and me. they barely sleep. they havent had a home cooked meal in forever. and yet, something keeps them going.

i knew one day that phone call might come.
but when it came, i wasnt prepared.
joey was gone.
every night i look up at the sky and wonder where he is that moment, if he's watching me. i mean, i know he is. but i just hope he knows, i wasn't really mad at him for re-enlisting. yeah, it changed my life upsdie down and he isnt here anymore....
....but it helped me realize that life and the people we love should not be taken for granted.
ever.

my whole heart broke.
its been a long time picking up the pieces.

july is almost here.
i wont be married....

but this is the life of being a military "wife"


i will marry one day and have children, and i will let them know about a hero that once lived.

this is what these men are,
heroes.
nothing more.
nothing less.




~rest in peace~"


i hate crying

the sad boy.

Doctor's offices always suck. They especially suck when they keep on telling you you're dying, pretty sweet. I saw a little kid the other day with cancer in a doctor's office, and the keep telling him he's dying. Of course, they don't really tell him that. They say things like "You're really sick buddy." or "You just keep staying strong". But, I think, he knows. I think this, because he's always scared. He sees the way his mom always cries after going to the doctor. The way people keep treating him differently. He can tell somethings wrong, and just by seeing his scared little face, I can tell he knows its him.
So hearing going to the doctor for him must really suck.
Blue probably used to be one of his favorite colors, ever little boy is forced into liking blue since their born, but the doctor's office is blue, so I bet he doesn't like it that much anymore. In the waiting room they have really nice chairs, but he looks really uncomfortable in them. The trucks are all lined up for him to play with and crash crash crash into each other, but his mom looks unhappy and he knows the noise might make her not smile. So he sits there, looking all around at all the big people, and he's scared. All the big people are looking at him too, but they know what's wrong, they feel bad for him, they want to cry for him.
And all he wants to do is for everyone to smile, and for him not to be scared anymore.
He can't do that though, because the nurse is about to say his name, and give that fake happy "you'll be just fine" smile, and he gets that everytime, and now he knows that he obviously won't be "just fine".

more smiles

my day started with a "high five!" as i had just avoided a cop pulling me over on a road that is 25 that i usually do 40. i don't know why i got so excited, but i just was. it's amazing how one little thing can get someone excited. it's like when i'm at work, going through the monotony of my day and there comes this old lady. she's quiet and polite, but when she gets the exact change or receives a coupon, this smile illuminates her face, and i can't help but smile to see how such a little thing, 50 cents in change can bring a smile to someone, who can no longer do the crazy things that some teenagers insist is the only way they can be happy.
then of course there's the little two year old who gets so happy by pushing the green button to allow their parents credit cards to process through the EFT machine. or the baby who gets to hold a little carton of gold fish, and that's what keeps them happy.
and then I look around myself, and it's so hard to find the happiness in the little things, or how I take for granted my life, and get upset over everything. maybe i should reverse my own standard, my own stupidity. get excited of the regular ordinary things/everything and get upset over practically nothing.
maybe if everyone did that there'd be more smiles in this world, and less bitter hatred towards teachers or things we can't control.


the example of a pleasant existence, a humble existence with nothing to prove, with no agenda but to exist with a smile throughout the week.-Zach Gehring

when writing meets the devil

So I'm in writer's workshop class and there's this teacher. She needs to know everything. I'm at this laptop, trying to write something, and BAM there she is hovering over my shoulder. We're supposed to have three things done by next Friday and it's a litle hard when she's hovering over my damn shoulder asking "who is the boy you're referring to there?" "what's that site you're on?" "how is your family doing after your cousin died?"
She believes in expressing yourself, and be inspired by everything. I get inspired by music, yet I can't listen to music in this class. She jots notes down and wants to know what we're doing and, I suppose, that's her job. Keep us all in line, know what we're doing. But isn't this class supposed to be expressing our thoughts in writing? I don't think my thoughts are the same ones as a 15 year old jack ass who is obsessed with politics and buffalo chicken wraps made by 80 year old cafeteria ladies.
That's what she wants.
And she likes talkingabout our feelings on depressing topics.
Take the VA Tech shooting:
She wanted to make us watch the gunman's confession on the computer. Maybe she doesn't realize that not all of us want to watch the depression with random people I barely know, and quite frankly don't want to share my opinions with 2 jocks, 1 hippy, 1 dumbass blonde, 3 freshman, 1 girl who wants to be popular, and 1 girl I can actually stand. A group that cares less about the fact 33 people died. Or the fact that the world does not revolve around lunch food, NCAA, or Geo-Physics.
Cool.

I'm not even in a bad mood. The class I used to stand is what is making my day just get a lot of angered fulled.
Oh and now she spies on our facebooks and shit. SWEET.

( )

Take my hand and let us travel away
Away from the spinning images that haunt
Haunt our dreams and sleepless nights
Nights I would rather be in your arms
Arms so strong they suffocate my my lungs
Lungs burning with desire and passion
Passion to be someone else and achieve more
More out there than this ordinary life
Life becomes harder than I thought
Thoughts of futures and pasts
Pasts become my present dreams
Dreams of you and me together
Together where we're safe
Safe from those that I could never trust
Trust in you to take
Take me away from this life...into the next

love & happiness & god

it is better to have loved and lossed than never have loved at all.

an age old saying that i can't bring myself to agree with at this certain time. i used to believe it. i used to believe in everything: the power of laughter, god, friendship, and of course...love. i suppose it's the cynic in me that drove everything i have ever cared about down into this sinking hole. this world where nothing is real and nothing lasts. the optimist in me used to believe in doing anything that meant having fun. suddenly, as i look at the shootings at VA tech and death all around me...i see fun isn't the only thing. appreciating, and understanding play a big fact in all of that. the cynic in me is having a hard time with the fun part when all i can see is bitter unhappiness in everyone i am around.
i used to love god. saying that feels odd now. do i love Him? or do i even believe in Him? or does just believing someones out there = understanding. or me even questioning His existence does that = hate. or does that mean i'm just lost...trying to find myself back to the naive 10 year old me who believed in everything, laughed for hours, and had fun...because fun was all that matters.
the days where depression was cool came and swept that 10 year old away. then, she came back, and life was good.
but...as i said before, nothing really lasts does it?

so now here i am wondering whether god exists, whether love exists, whether fun can bring happiness or understanding does it. and it's kinda weird because i'm entering college in a matter of months, i'm supposed to be well educated, opionated and smart and all of that jazz...and myself at 10 years old in 5th grade was so much more smarter and wiser than me.


sucks.

Unclear

I'm not too sure what was going on with that one. Well I do know, and in all honesty, I'm not sure why I did what I did, and do what I do. No matter how much I make fun of those kids, and say I don't understand who would want to be like them, it's me.
It hit me like a brick when I realized how uncomfortable I am with myself. I don't like it when people make assumptions about me. I don't like it when they say things that they know nothing about. I get offended easily, and I want to stand up for myself, but I just don't have any guts. I should be open and accepting of their thoughts, beliefs, and opions. I should be open to criticism, but I can't. I take every little thing as an insult. It's not good. I should love how God made me, but I'm not sure I am. My personality jumps up and down like a yo-yo. And the sad thing is I'm really happy. I have the best friend in the world. I'm fortunate to have a family who is still here and alive. And I'm alive. I'm not sick. I'm not at risk of being bombed or murdered. My country is at war, but what am I doing? Nothing. I'm sitting here in the comfort of my home for the holidays.

So what's my problem?

That's a good question.

I think it's come down to the fact that I just think too much about everything. Nothing is simple. And it's my own fault.

I'm just hoping and waiting for it all to pass, and maybe I can go back to seeing how lucky I am and quit my whining once and for all.