(no subject)
the bottom of the ocean floor is pretty complex. The human body is too. hell, cells are even complex and complicated. i am a person who is usually easily amused and made happy. and so why is it so hard for God to make this so within my life? its an age old question, but why is there so much evil in the world? why is there so much sadness, pain, loneliness, and destruction? if God could create every cell on the planet, which to me seems like a pretty huge undertaking, then why can't he get rid of those things?
my grandma died this year. and it was very sad because she was the only grandparent i ever really knew. but at the same time, she hadn't known her own name in so many years that it was almost a relief. she was free from her body and mind that no longer worked. then on saturday, jawn died. but its not the same. its not the same at all. 27. so young and so much more to give and accomplish and live out. but no, for some reason the pain he felt was too great or too much and this had to happen. and every night i fall asleep wondering if i would have gone to dinner last month with him like he asked if it would have made him realize any more that i cared. and i wonder what that terrifying week long trek up the west coast must have been like for him. i wonder if he was on his way back home and then decided to really go through with it... if he just couldn't go another saturday and thats why he ended it all. it makes me sick. physically. and emotionally.
and tonight i'll go see his family and it will be one of the hardest things i have had to do in my young 22 years, but they have to know. they have to know what he meant to me and to so many people. they have to know that he had an immense impact on my life and that his friendship surpassed the years he was my leader and that i will forever miss and love him.
i'm just sick of hurting. i understand that death is a natural thing that happens to us all, but not this. this was not just death. it was deliberate and that just leaves one with so many unanswered questions and theories and i hate that.
and i hate that things just have not worked out in my life the way i had planned. and that i'm single and pregnant. because even though i may act like its easy at times, its hard. its so so so hard. its draining and i often wonder if he or anyone will ever love me ever again or if this is it. if i get a job and raise a kid on my own and then i die and thats that. and then there are the thoughts of what kind of parent i will be. i always thought i'd be pretty good but then the thoughts of becoming a parent become a reality and you start thinking really hard. how many christmas presents are too many presents because you dont want her to be a spoiled brat and you want her to see the rest of the world and how they live too... and how much regulation do you put on her? how many hours of tv is she allowed to watch? should she even watch tv? and what if one day she's a lesbian and i dont know how to handle that or just what to say to make her feel loved anymore? and what if she becomes overwhelmed by the pressures of this world and the desperation in it and takes her own life one day? then how the hell will i feel? i can't know the answers to any of these questions. but they do haunt me. often. and i hate that.
i'm finding it so hard to have hope. it comes in small doses. it happens when she kicks me in the stomach when i'm trying to sleep. or when i laugh. or when the little special ed boy edward follows me everywhere, not even playing at recess, talking my ear off about his life because he loves me. and it happens when i tell those, and hear from those closest to me that i love them and they love me.
"it is love who mixed the morter,
and its love who stacked these stones,
and its love that made the stage here,
although it looks like we're alone,
in this scene, set in shadows,
like the night is here to stay,
there is evil cast around us,
but its love who wrote the play,
for in this darkness love will show the way."
God=love.
my grandma died this year. and it was very sad because she was the only grandparent i ever really knew. but at the same time, she hadn't known her own name in so many years that it was almost a relief. she was free from her body and mind that no longer worked. then on saturday, jawn died. but its not the same. its not the same at all. 27. so young and so much more to give and accomplish and live out. but no, for some reason the pain he felt was too great or too much and this had to happen. and every night i fall asleep wondering if i would have gone to dinner last month with him like he asked if it would have made him realize any more that i cared. and i wonder what that terrifying week long trek up the west coast must have been like for him. i wonder if he was on his way back home and then decided to really go through with it... if he just couldn't go another saturday and thats why he ended it all. it makes me sick. physically. and emotionally.
and tonight i'll go see his family and it will be one of the hardest things i have had to do in my young 22 years, but they have to know. they have to know what he meant to me and to so many people. they have to know that he had an immense impact on my life and that his friendship surpassed the years he was my leader and that i will forever miss and love him.
i'm just sick of hurting. i understand that death is a natural thing that happens to us all, but not this. this was not just death. it was deliberate and that just leaves one with so many unanswered questions and theories and i hate that.
and i hate that things just have not worked out in my life the way i had planned. and that i'm single and pregnant. because even though i may act like its easy at times, its hard. its so so so hard. its draining and i often wonder if he or anyone will ever love me ever again or if this is it. if i get a job and raise a kid on my own and then i die and thats that. and then there are the thoughts of what kind of parent i will be. i always thought i'd be pretty good but then the thoughts of becoming a parent become a reality and you start thinking really hard. how many christmas presents are too many presents because you dont want her to be a spoiled brat and you want her to see the rest of the world and how they live too... and how much regulation do you put on her? how many hours of tv is she allowed to watch? should she even watch tv? and what if one day she's a lesbian and i dont know how to handle that or just what to say to make her feel loved anymore? and what if she becomes overwhelmed by the pressures of this world and the desperation in it and takes her own life one day? then how the hell will i feel? i can't know the answers to any of these questions. but they do haunt me. often. and i hate that.
i'm finding it so hard to have hope. it comes in small doses. it happens when she kicks me in the stomach when i'm trying to sleep. or when i laugh. or when the little special ed boy edward follows me everywhere, not even playing at recess, talking my ear off about his life because he loves me. and it happens when i tell those, and hear from those closest to me that i love them and they love me.
"it is love who mixed the morter,
and its love who stacked these stones,
and its love that made the stage here,
although it looks like we're alone,
in this scene, set in shadows,
like the night is here to stay,
there is evil cast around us,
but its love who wrote the play,
for in this darkness love will show the way."
God=love.