I Wish I Could
Every day I see something about a brother hating his sister. About him wanting her to die. But he doesn’t realize what he’s saying. He doesn’t know just how special that girl is. To have someone in your family, another you, someone you know you can trust, a best friend you’ll always have. It’s always the “annoying” things that I wish I would’ve had the most. Going to say it was time for dinner, helping them when they’re sick, spending time with them, letting them know every day how much I love them. To most people that sounds like an every day routine, and I suppose for those people, it is. But not a lot of people do it. This world has been deprived of love in a lot of cases.
No one knows what I would’ve given just to even meet my sister. Just once. She was coming over to help me. From another country, she was pregnant, and worried about me. My dad was keeping it a surprise. Why? Because my entire life up until I was 11, I really wanted a sister, and hated being alone. Before she left for her way over, my parents explained to me, that I had a sister. I was beyond excited. There WAS someone in my family other than me.
I don’t know what was on that truck driver’s mind. I don’t know why he chose that particular day, that particular road. Maybe it was a broken heart. Maybe he just had an addiction and doesn’t deserve any form of forgiveness. I haven’t forgave him still today.
I don’t drink alcohol. Every time I look down a bottle or a glass, I’m reminded of that day. The day I got told that my sister and her unborn baby were killed in a car accident. By a drunk driver.
Don’t ever drink and drive. You never know what you’re destroying.
At Relay For Life the other day, I grabbed one of those purple balloons and wrote on it, I don’t remember what exactly but it was for my grandmother who died of Cancer when I was 13. She taught me everything I knew about life, about everything. Once I got done writing I wrote “Love you, from PJ” (Paul Junior) on it, and walked to the stage with everyone else who had the same idea. Only difference was I was the only one that wrote on one. It tried to blow away before I got there but when the string came loose I somehow caught it without popping it.
We eventually got to let them go, and mine, without the string, moved farther and faster than the rest. I couldn’t even find it in the jumbled section of balloons in the sky. I felt this strange form of release. It was really relaxing. My eyes were watering up but I wiped them away before they had a chance to fall.
I was with this woman (I called her Nanny) and my grandfather (Papa) more than my own parents. Papa’s still alive and well, I wish I was a better person for him. Losing her was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to face. No matter who breaks my heart or betrays me, they can’t hurt me that much, because that was a love that was seen all the way through. She may have died, but the love never will. And that’s what keeps me strong, because no one can ever take that away from me. No matter how hard they try.
Yeah, I STILL cry, almost nine years later. I don’t cry often, but when I do, I let it flow, like a huge rainstorm. Mostly by myself, though. It still hurts so much, because it wasn’t fair. Everything was fine and then one day, that disease took everything away from me.
Cancer don’t discriminate, or care if you’re just 38. You’re afraid and they are too, but you’re never alone, I promise you. You can do it. Just love them through it.
Why do I feel like this? Why do I feel that every passing moment is worthless? I have family, I have friends, I’m about to be in college, soon I’ll be living with my aunt and soon-to-be uncle. A lot of problems in my life are fixed. So why do I feel this way? Why do I feel like knives are being stuck into my heart?
I feel so alone. No matter how many friends or family are around me, I still feel alone. I try my best to be happy, I really do. Way more than anyone thinks. Maybe I feel this way because I’m so horrible at love, and love is what I base my life around. I’ve always told myself that it’s not me, that these things that happen aren’t my fault. But everything that happens to me is my fault.
I don’t know what to do, or how to get rid of this ache. I feel like even if I did have love, I wouldn’t know what to do. Kinda like a speeding car where the steering wheel doesn’t work, just imagine it with an auto-pilot that glitches up every now and again and wrecks into other cars. Lately I’ve been helping people, and not just my friends. I’ve been searching for strangers who have broken hearts, and just talking to them. I’ve actually made them happier. I made them feel better, because they weren’t alone anymore. How crazy is that? That I can figure out a perfect stranger’s problems, but not my own.
I believe there’s so much light, so much love in me, more than regular people. It’s like a gift, I think. But it doesn’t feel like one sometimes. It’s hard to hold on to your love when all it’s ever been is abused. You tell yourself you can’t do it anymore, that the world would not be able to function without you, so you consider withdrawing so people can see. Or sometimes it’s as simple as “the world would be better without me,” which I’ve been there too. I do believe I’m a good person, but it’s like my life disagrees with me.
I’m not perfect, I make a lot of mistakes. It doesn’t make me a bad person or anything. I just feel like no one really has faith in me anymore. Like, they say they do, but they don’t really mean it. I don’t deserve it. I’m not good enough. I’ve always felt “below” everyone else, especially other males, like I’m the omega of the pack, so-to-speak. I operate more like a lone wolf, I guess. There’s just something that makes me feel.. out of the ordinary, like an outcast. I don’t even know what it is. I just feel like a worthless person.
But the thing is, I know I’m not. It’s just confusing because like, my family and some friends tell me I’m this like, wonderful person. Yet, things come harder for me. So many people tell me about everything wrong with me, about how I’m some like.. clueless person. I don’t know what to think.