I don't wanna fight this kind of war.

 

I just wanted to point something out. This song reminds me of a conversation I had last night.  I spent the whole night trying to convince someone that I didn't want to go see them again.  He told me to have faith in him, because all he wanted to do was mend my broken heart.  My mom always told me that behind every broken heart is a stupid boy with a glue gun and a dream.  I'm starting to believe in that.  He told me that the fairytale can come true if I give it time, if I believe in it.

I wanted you to know that after struggling with my emotions for so long, I realized where I need to be. I'm right where I need to be.  I believe in the fairytale, and I believe in what you want to do for me.  I love you, Jaime. And I'm sorry I ever doubted you. I promise I'll be there to visit in 25 days. You can count on it.

My Heaven

There's something inherently wrong with me. I always try to find the good in people. even ones I was told to stay away from. People I was told hated me, to never talk to them. I still try to find the good in them. I don't believe that any person is strictly bad. I think there are several things that make people who they are. Things that we, as humans, try not to look at. We like to assume a person is all bad, and move on, pretending that they never existed in the first place.

I don't strictly hate. I hate what people do to me. But my willingness to forgive is what makes me strong. There are people in this would that, by other people's standards, don't deserve a fifth, sixth, seventh chance. But the problem is, if I don't believe in them, who will? I was always told not to talk to these people because they've done nothing but beat me into the ground and hurt me.

There's a song by Hawk Nelson that I keep thinking of. You can take the one thing I have left, beat me to the ground and take my breath, but you can't take who I am.

You can stop me, you can tell me I'm making a huge mistake, but I believe in second chances. No one is purely bad, and no one is purely good. I was raised to believe in people; good and bad. Everything is to be taken with one grain of truth to it. People lie because they want something to believe in, they want someone to hear them, they need a voice.  Well, I'm here. I listen. Why am I never good enough?

If there's anything that the children in church taught me, it's that there's always that one person that needs a hug. And they're the one person that people overlook on a daily basis.

I want you to know...if anything. I don't hate you. I don't hate you at all. I never did. I hated what you did to me.  I hated the fact that you threw me away like trash, even after saying we'd stay friends. I hated how you beat me into the wall and gave me no way out, then turned and told everyone I let you. I hated how you left me for my best friend. I hated how you didn't stop me from leaving.  I hate how you hurt me...how you pretended that my sacrifices were never enough. That's what I hate about you.

You never believed in me.

Not a single one of you.

But I believe in you.

Santa, I'm right here

In Cadence to my "donating" lecture...I figured I should post this as well.




Santa, I don't need too much, so this year could you bring:
Bring my mom a coat that's warm, cuz the one she's got is awful torn.
Maybe dad could help you work, making toys for boys and girls?
Santa, if you can't find me, we're living out here on the streets. But I'll be watching for ya; you're not gonna forget me are ya? Momma says she knows you'll try, but we might be to hard to find this year...Santa, I'm right here.

Impossibilities

The Impossible - Joe Nichols

I always wondered if anything in this world was truly impossible.  That fateful day in Kittyhawk, the Wright brothers found out how to fly.  After spending years, trying to find a way to make it work.  I watched miracles happen right before my eyes and I still doubted the power behind them. In biblical days, miracles happened constantly. Blind people could see, deaf people could hear, lame people could walk...lepers had skin cured.  But today...a miracle is a rare occurrence, something that happens once in a life time, if you're even lucky to see one in your lifetime.

I wonder sometimes what drives people to act the way they do. Is it the way we're raised? Is it how we spend our time? I was raised with morals, so if I see someone in need, my first reaction is to go help them. I don't judge.  That's what makes me hate December so much. I tell people it's because my grandfather died in December, but that's a lie.  It's all a lie. I hate December because I hate people.

I mean, I love people, but I hate them.

When I was six years old I got to help my dad organize the Toys for Tots drive.  It was the greatest feeling of my life, being able to pick out toys to donate, and knowing that they would brighten some child's day as much as I was happy picking them out.  I got to see kids walk away smiling with toys. Kids that normally wouldn't have gotten anything for Christmas.  My parents always urged us, nay, made sure we donated. Always. Because one day, who knew? Maybe we would turn to them to make our child's Christmas happy.

I always wanted people to realize that there are less fortunate out there. You don't want to finish your water? There's a kid somewhere drinking from a puddle. You don't want to keep your clothes? There's a kid somewhere wearing clothes from six years ago.  You think you're out of date and old fashioned, so you need to "upgrade", there's a woman somewhere who doesn't even have a phone.  You don't want your old, wet books, so you throw them away? There's a kid somewhere who would die to read that book.  Don't you understand?

They always say that one man's junk is another man's treasure. It's true. When my uncle died, I was left with clothes I didn't know what to do with. My brother didn't want them because they were too "old fashioned", but how many people in the town alone would take them simply because they don't have any?

I hate December because people go out of their way to make donations, and people steal them. Or they go out of their way to donate, and then there are families who complain that it's not what their kid wanted.  Well, the idea behind TfT isn't to get what your kid wants. It's to give them something.  I remember a friend of mine saying at one time that she got to pick a toy for her daughter, and she picked a stuffed toy.  Her daughter didn't let go of that stuffed toy until she was almost four.

Still don't get it?

I hate December because people are so bloody greedy.  Because people don't teach their kids that there are people in this world who don't get anything.  The ideology behind Christmas wasn't to get toys. It wasn't to get gifts at all. Christmas was about celebrating.

I hate December because there are people that say "fine, you can get me something, but ten dollars...nothing more." Then they come in with a fifty dollar gift and say "Oh, I just knew it was for you when I saw it!" And then you're left sitting with a ten dollar gift that you made from scratch, and they go "Oh, is that all?"  With me, you get what you get, and you like it. If you don't, tough noogies. I don't intend on pleasing you. If I feel you deserve better, I'll get you better. but I'm not going to compete with you.

I hate December because no one donates. The only way they could get the JROTC kids to donate was to make it a competition. Put yourself in that child's shoes. Remember how your eyes always lit up when you saw a toy under the tree with your name on it? Now, imagine coming downstairs and seeing no tree...no lights...no presents...nothing. Imagine that let down.  Imagine how you used to get what you wanted every year but that year your dad got fired and couldn't get you anything. Imagine it. And then tell me you wouldn't feel upset.

TfT makes it so that every child in need gets at least one toy.  That way, even if they can't have the tree and whole experience, they can still have something to look forward to.  But people are so concerned with themselves, why bother with someone else? That's why, when (I don't say *if* anymore, we all know I'll be famous) I become famous, I'm donating 3,500 to TfT every year. Because I know what it feels like to be that kid.

And by the way - saying I know I'll be famous isn't being "pompous", it's called believing in your dreams. =)

Getting Back Into Things

Okay; I realize I skipped all of November. I won't even get started as to why. It's not really anyone's business. All I know is that I'm not in the right frame of mind to make any major decisions, nor am I really in the right frame of mind to say I give a flying rats carcass about anything.  I mean, I love you all...I really care, I just...don't care right now.  I'll try and continue writing on a semi daily basis, but no promises. Ever. I don't make promises I can't keep. I kept up with it until October, that was my promise. =)

Mama

Since today is my mom's birthday, I think I'll answer some questions I've run into about moms. =)

What makes you proud of your mom the most?

 

Well, I'm proud of my mom for a million reasons.  She always manages to make me smile or laugh when I'm not in the mood to do so.  She and I used to have our differences. I think this song explains it pretty well. I never really understood half of what she said, and then I grew up and realized after I let her go, how much I needed her in my life.  It's like they always say; you never notice how much you need someone until they're gone.  The fact that she stood strong, watched me leave with tears in her eyes, and let me go...the fact that she told me she was okay, even though we both know it killed her...that's what makes me proud of her.  There were times where I was sure I couldn't get her to understand, but she always did.  She always managed to find it in her heart to find time for me, to make me realize that she did, indeed, understand what I was going through.  But the reason I'm most proud of her? She put up with everything she did - abuse, hurting, heartache, pain, broken dreams, broken promises, tears, lies - just to be where she is today. And that's what makes me proud of her the most.

Why do you love your mom so much?

Because when I sit here thinking no one in the world really cares what I'm going through, she's the first person to call me up and say "listen to this song, it reminds me of you"...and when I do, I always smile. Because when I feel like nothing can get worse, she messages me and says something like "look, I found this today, I thought of you".  Because when I can't figure out how to explain something to someone close to me, she's the one that tells me "say it like this", and it gets the point across. Because when I need a friend and a shoulder to cry on, she's always available. Why wouldn't I love my mom?

What's the most awesome thing your mom ever did for you?

 This is a tough one to decide. I can think of quite a few things that make her awesome. I think the most awesomest thing she ever did for me was when I was feeling depressed about not having gotten any flowers for Valentines day, she went out and got me a teddy bear that said "I love you", and said "happy Valentine's day"...I think that was the most awesome thing. Although I will admit, a runner up for me was when I was in choir in school. Everyone else had these store bought dresses, but she would always make mine. I never told her then how much I appreciated it, but I really did. I think she's the one who gave me the strength to be different. =)

What is the fondest memory you have of your mom?

I have a lot of memories that I cherish, but my fondest memory was and likely always will be, when she'd blast her music at four AM and we'd dance around the house like a bunch of maniacs. And occasionally, Scott would even join in and dance like a giant asparagus from Veggie Tales. How awesome is that?!

Hello, Tuck you in Every Night on the Phone

Do you believe that love can be rekindled?

I watched my mom wait twenty-six years to be with the person she loved. She said goodbye to him one day, and then found him twenty-five years later, marrying on year twenty-six. Incidentally, at their wedding, I asked one of my friends from school to go with me.  My friend Devon and I chased him around the whole time asking if he liked me. Devon would ask him if he'd go out with me, and he'd say no, he wasn't interested in dating.  Well, finally, I asked him; would you let me go out with you...just once? And he agreed.

Well, that once turned into half a year, and I really did love being around him.  I was never sad, I always smiled. I don't think I ever cried once around him.  We spent our time laughing and having fun; walking around town, looking for friends. Talking about nothing.  Then one day I told him I was moving back home...because I wanted to be with Ray. And that was the end of it. I went to his house three days before I left, armed with nothing but a hug and an empty promise to visit again in December.

I never went to visit.

A year after I got home, I started dating the abusive boyfriend. Well, I called this guy once that year, just to see how he was doing because I missed him.  I found out that year that he was going to go into the Marines, or he had wanted to, and that he had missed the last two months of school because he was sick.  I remember telling myself to call him again...but I never did.

After another bad breakup, I found myself searching for his number again. The one I had was disconnected, so I couldn't find him.  I finally found his mom, and I called her up, and asked her where he was. Well, I remember a lot of things, but I don't really remember the conversation.  We spent time talking, laughing, telling each other how we still felt...but after a few months, nothing happened.

I started dating another guy...wondering if maybe I could be happy finally.  Well, he broke my heart...five times...and I realized that I needed to move on. I, once again, called up the boy in California. Well, this time we started talking seriously.  I actually got to talk to him nearly every night, and I found out a lot more about him. I found out he never dated again after me.  I asked him why and he told me that even after six years, he still loved me and that would never change.

Now here I am, planning to go visit him in January...praying it all goes well, and wondering where he is every night that he isn't on. I find myself worried about him all the time, laughing when he tells me about work, smiling when I see him online. There are some times I wonder if it's meant to be, and then I hear him say "Kitt, it's okay, it will work..." And then I remember why I needed him in my life in the first place. Because sometimes it's your best friend that you fall in love with.