Senior Year

I can see it. The edge. It looks as though I will fall into nothing. 

Senior Year. 

My feet… they move on their own. I can’t make them stop.

It’s like standing on a cliff and with every day and every late homework assignment you’re one step closer to the edge. 

I move my eyes from the edge and look at the beauty that almost seems to float beyond the edge.

The view is this vast, unknown land that you have only heard of and seen through your parents. First day of school. Boom. One step closer. First homework assignment. Boom. One step closer.

A strange, exciting feeling seeps into my body. 

 Every step is odd and unfamiliar. You’ve never been here before.

That feeling only lasts for so long before the fear sets in

 You don’t know what will happen. 

What will happen? I just want it to stop for a minute. I want to turn back the clock.

You can’t turn back the clock. 

Even if I could, would I want that?

It will only continue moving forward.

Once more the panic sets in when my eyes meet the edge again. 

 You begin to wonder what will happen once you reach the edge. Will you fall? Is it terrifying? Will you be hurt? Where will you go? What will happen?

My heart begins to beat faster and faster with every step.

This last year of childhood holds so many questions and dreams and hopes. 

I take one more step and my foot leaves the edge.

I can’t tell you what will happen. I can’t say “Yes it will all be alright.” But I can ask this question… 

I’m falling but… instead of terror I feel a rush of excitement. In an instant I stop falling… 

“My dear, what if you do not fall… 

And begin soaring up towards the sky.

… but you fly instead?” 

Before I know it I’m standing in that unknown territory that terrified me so much.

You see… the fall seemed frightening but really it was both frightening  and exhilarating. 

How I ended up here I am not sure. 

We all fall. But truthfully, we can still fly. 

I glance back towards the cliff I had stood on only moments before. It seemed so distant and yet so close.

Senior year. The year 8 year old me viewed as “the year I go to prom”. The year that is finally here and makes next year seem even more intimidating. 

I’m not sure what to do now.

I’m not sure how it will go next year. 

How to begin. How to begin indeed. 

It will be scarily new.

I begin with a step. Every step is a step towards the future.

But I bet it will be an adventure like one I’ve never had before.

Life is good. And it’s been a while since I’ve felt I could say that. But really, life is good. I’m working. I’m going into senior year. I have amazing friends. I finally feel happy. I finally can look at myself in the mirror and say that I’m beautiful. The depression isn’t nearly as bad. The anxiety is still there but it’s different. I can tell now that my anxiety doesn’t come from my depression anymore. I’m happy. I’m growing up. I have two best friends that I care about so much and that care about me and would never use me. I feel stronger. I feel…. I feel good. My faith is stronger and I don’t feel anywhere near as angry as I once did. I know I’m not healed completely. But even my grief feels different. I can’t explain it. I just know that I’m not grieving in anger anymore. I’m grieving because I’m hurt. My life will never be the same. Never. But I’m healing. I’m getting there. It’s not hopeless anymore. I’m pulling myself back together and I feel so much better. The pieces aren’t scattered anymore. I’ve gone from being thinking my life won’t get better to my life being better. I can finally look in the mirror and see an amazing girl and I can finally see that I matter.  I’m happy. Yes, I still have bad days. Yes, I still have anxiety. Yes, I still struggle. But who doesn’t? I’ve made it so far and I’m in such a better place now. I’m going places. I’m excited. I look forward to my future. I can’t even explain how I feel. I can just say, I’m happier now.

Choosing

Something I wrote a little while back that I forgot about.

Her arms are outstretched.
Her arms and voice being used to praise.
It looks as though she is calling out.
Calling out to someone who is always there but seems unseen.
She allows every emotion to flood her body.
Her anger, fear, joy, and praise.
Her hands are reaching for the heavens.
She’s calling for God.
She’s begging him to come.
To hold her.
To love her
To be with her.
To calm her.
To help her
To save her.
Deep inside there’s a peace that floods her body.
Deep inside there’s an anger that stirs.
Deep inside there’s a light.
Deep inside there’s a darkness.
Deep inside…
What is deep inside?
A voice.
Like a friend.
But not a friend.
A friend when I’m joyous.
An enemy when I’m done.
She wishes she could avoid it.
But she cannot.
She must walk the path before her.
Choose a path. Either one hurts.

That Girl

She remembers that day… that day it ended.

“What ended?” you might wonder.

“Life as I knew it,” she’ll reply.

No one speaks of the one she lost. 

She only hears the name from her family. 

Just the other night she sat and cried in her room. 

She cried over the friends who lied to her and cried over the death of that dear child, the one she called her sister. 

She’ll never forget everything that happened. 

She’ll never forget how poorly she treated her sister. 

She’ll never forget how all her sister wanted was to be around her. 

She was there when she died.

And when she died it was like something inside her broke. 

It was her heart. 

It shattered like glass and she bled. 

Not long after, she met a boy. 

This boy… this boy said he loved her. Said they were best friends. 

Their friendship turned out to be nothing to him. 

He lied to her. He manipulated her. 

He broke her. 

He gifted her with new insecurities. 

And then there were two more after him that hurt her even more. 

Trust is not something that comes easily to her anymore. 

There’s pain all the time. 

She sees nothing good in herself. 

Even when she says she’s a nice person, it’s always followed with a “but”. 

It got her in trouble to be nice. 

She looks in the mirror only to be unhappy with her body and unhappy with herself.

There are some days where she wants to die. 

Days where she cries and is tempted to changed how bare her arms are.

She is broken

She is scared

She is hurt

She is depressed. 

She is crying. 

But she’s still here. 

She wants better.

She wants to look in the mirror and see someone who is worth it.

But despite all the pain, there’s still so much in her life she’s grateful for. 

She’s grateful for the ones who have been there for years. 

She’s grateful for the family she still has. 

Home

Just something I wrote yesterday.

What if I told you that you are home for me?

Most people say home is a place. 

A building.

A dwelling place. 

But isn’t home really where the people you love are?

What if home is multiple places?

What if I feel just as at home when I’m in your arms as when I’m laying at home in my own bed or laughing with my family?

If I told you that you are home to me, what would you say?

Would you tell me that I’m home for you too? 

I only ask because… because you feel like home to me. 

 

 

Regrets

I feel like I’m screaming… 

“I couldn’t save her!”

“I should have been there…”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s my fault.”

“I wanted to stop it.”

“I couldn’t do anything.”

So many regrets. 

I should have gone with her.

I needed to be there beginning to end. 

I wasn’t.

Screw me.

The screw up of a big sister.

Couldn’t save her own damn sister.

I regret so much. 

I should have been there!

I should have been there to tell her it would be ok!

I should’ve been there when she went unconscious. 

I’m her sister!

I’m supposed to be there to- to comfort, to care for, to help, to hold, to love.

But where was I when she got there! 

At home… not with her… I should have followed my gut and left when she was taken to the hospital.

I knew something was wrong.

I have to live with the fact that I knew something was wrong and stayed home because I didn’t want to inconvenience anyone. 

I have to live with the fact that I didn’t hold her hand and stand next to her when life finally left her because I didn’t want to inconvenience anyone.

I get to live with this. I get to live with my regrets. 

If only… 

 

Empty

Have you ever had a day where you wake up and you feel… absolutely nothing?

You sit and you just feel empty.

You sit and you begin to think that if you were gone then no one would care. 

You text him and ask, “Do I matter?”

He’ll say yes. 

He does say yes.

But does that take away the emptiness that’s residing in you? 

No.

You continue to see yourself as someone who doesn’t matter.

You see yourself as that person that people wouldn’t miss.

You feel nothing and yet you feel everything at the same time.

While you feel so much pain, you can’t even cry because of this emptiness.

You spend the day in the middle of a dark cloud and the next day the cloud is just light enough that you can see. 

You get up.

You shower.

You brush your hair.

You brush your teeth.

You put on new clothes.

All the while you can’t stop thinking about how insignificant you are. 

You look at your reflection and watch as that one, forbidden tear falls slowly down your face. 

You’re ready. 

Well… you are the world’s definition of “ready for the day”.

You’ve put on your best makeup and dressed in the most stylish outfit you can.

You’re out of bed and you’ve stopped the tears.

This means you’re ready for today… doesn’t it?

Or does it simply mean that you look presentable enough so that people will have no idea that you spent the night before crying till your head hurt.

And before that you felt absolutely nothing.

No one will ever know because you cover it up so well. 

No one can see the tear stains and bags under your eyes. 

You’ve covered those with makeup. 

No one will know of the insecurities because you shove them down. 

No one will know you are suffering because you put on a smile.

And if we smile then that means we’re ok… right?

If only they knew… if only they knew how much pain a smile could hide.

Wanted

I was there the moment that it happened
But you couldn’t see me through the pain
I caught every tear as they were falling
When you lost your heart that day
Yeah, you lost your heart that day

Were you there? Were you really there that day? The day I cried over her body? Were you there the day my heart shattered and fell to the ground?

Now you only see through broken lenses
Trying to keep your head above the shame
You believe the lie that I am distant
But I hold you every day
Yeah, I hold you every day

But I can’t see you… I’m so scared to lose you forever. Everything I see is different now and I feel so broken. I feel like you’re so far away.

If you could see it through my eyes
You’d know that you are wanted
You’d know that you are wanted
And if you’d let my love inside
I’ll show you that you’re wanted
I’ll show you that you’re wanted

Am I wanted? Am I really? I know I want you God… but why would you want this broken mess of a child?

You’re more than all your darkest moments
You are defined by what I see
You’re my reflection, you’re my treasure, you’re my heartbeat
Oh, child, you belong to me

My darkest moments… the moments where reality tried to suffocate me. Those moments where I saw my bare arms and wanted to change that. The moments where I wondered if my friends would be better off without me. Through all that did I really still belong to you? I am your reflection… your treasure… your heartbeat… how?

‘Cause if you would see it through my eyes
You’d know that you are wanted
You’d know that you are wanted
And if you’d let my love inside
I’ll show you that you’re wanted
I’ll show you that you’re wanted, oh

All I’ve done is ask you why for over a year. I’ve never lost my faith but I’ve continuously asked why and yet… somehow… for some reason… you still want me. You still… you still love me. I wish I could see through your eyes and see what you see in me.

Not rejected, not unwelcome
You’re wanted (You’re wanted)
Oh, you’re wanted (You’re wanted)
Not abandoned, not forgotten
You’re wanted
Oh, you’re wanted

You haven’t rejected me. I’m still welcome. I’m not abandoned. I’m not forgotten. I’m wanted… I’m wanted.

I’m right here in this moment
And I’m singing over you
Yeah, I’m singing over you

You’re still here. Still here.

If you could see it through my eyes
You’d know that you are wanted (You are wanted)
You’d know that you are wanted
And if you’d let my love inside
I’ll show you that you’re wanted
I’ll show you that you’re wanted

I’m wanted.

I’m wanted.

Song: Wanted by Danny Gokey

The Forgotten Moments

I forgot about what happened after she died. And I don’t mean the days after. I mean the moments after. The hours. When life had left her completely, I went to her side and I held her hand. When they came in to clean her up, I watched as the nurse, my mom, my grandma, and Maggie’s godmother bathed her. I watched as they took wet rags and cleaned her hands and feet. I watched them wrap her in white towels. I held her hand. It was cold and pale. It was lifeless. She was there but she wasn’t there. All I wanted to do was to lay next to her and hold her in my arms. I wanted to so badly. She always wanted me to sleep with her, to lay next to her, just be with her… and now it’s too late. When it came time to leave the hospital, I didn’t want to. I didn’t want to let go of her hand. I wanted to hang on forever… but I couldn’t. I forced myself to let go. The very last time I saw her was when we left that hospital. I kissed her and I said, “Goodnight.” I let go and began the trek to the parking garage. The car ride home I stayed quiet and when we got home, I grabbed the blanket that had covered Maggie and I lay down on the couch to sleep. For weeks I refused to sleep in my room because it was too depressing. I didn’t go upstairs. The moment she died, my life as I knew it was over, and the moment she died, I began to build a new one.

Still Without Her

I forgot what it was like to have her in my life. I forgot what it was like to hear her voice. I forgot what it was like to see her face. She’s still gone. I don’t want to move forward… I’ll leave her behind… at least it feels like it. If only I could see her… I miss her. I want… I want her back. Life still seems so odd without her. My sister… I feel such deep grief from her death. Her face, her smile, her laugh, her sense of humor, her joy… it’s not here with me anymore. I would give anything to just hear her say my name one more time. Just one more time.

“Meyou look at this!”

That’s all I want to hear. Just one more time. It’s almost an indescribable feeling I feel when I think of her. It’s so deep. It’s a sickening, deep, sorrowful feeling. I’m still without her and I don’t want to be. I want to live my life and keep growing but at the same time I want to stay where I am because if I keep going then it feels like I’m leaving her behind and I can’t… I can’t do that. I can’t leave her behind.

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