When the Waters Fall...

Because everything can't be perfect. Pre-med, but all I want to do is live in Ireland. And have a giant scary looking dog. And write bad novels but get paid for them.
I also want to save the world, but I'm taking it one step at a time.

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The Dead End of the Internet

Moments in your life when you experience total loss are not restricted to death. These moments are tied to the ones you love and you will never forget them. Loss comes in more than one form and and simply being apart from someone, knowing they are happy without you, can be devastating. It makes me hurt, in the deepest part of my heart, where I’ve locked away the few emotions I allow myself to feel for people; trust, loyalty, companionship.

When people I love no longer love me, when they have moved on, I find myself crawling down into this dark cavern. To the small wooden box, poorly crafted but practical in its purpose. There is no key to the box - it’s one of those wooden puzzle boxes and only on rare occasions do I remember the exact twist or turn to open this poor misshapen box. On one of those sad days, I am able to open the box. With much pain, I can manage to extricate the memories, the feelings, of the one I have lost. I grab onto those niceties and I don’t want to let go. But in the end, I must. I remove them from that little box and struggle close it with all the way. Some days there are small gaps where I haven’t managed to completely put the box back together, but I’m too exhausted to finish closing it. The weight of the love I still feel, that wants to still be felt, crushes me. I push on. Climbing up into the light again can take hours or weeks. It can take months or years, but I know I’ll make it. One day, I’ll be over them, the trust they passively lost and the loyalty they stopped needing long ago. 

I think I’ve got a pretty long road ahead. Good thing life is so complex or adventurous, so I don’t have to be alone or worry about this. That’s what blogging is for, right?

Unless you have three followers. I swear this blog is literally the dead end of the internet.  

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Beauty and a Smooth Stone

God doesn’t pick people because they’re ready for something. Sometimes He makes his selection to prove on thing: that He is the greatest God ever and He is the most powerful and He loves us. 

That’s a pretty cool thing. 

I don’t like getting picked. Blame it on being picked last in PE all through elementary and middle and high school. There’s really only ONE kid who gets picked last. At my school, I was that kid. It’s funny how I’m using that as a kind of “private school survival trophy” to explain all of this. Let’s get to the point: I’m physically lazy. Mentally, I’m pretty smart. Not Sheldon Cooper’s crazy-ass weird smart, but I get by with mostly A’s. And that ONE freaking B in my Intro to Psych class in college. Boo hoo. 

We don’t always realize when we’ve been picked. It’s not like a giant red thumb tack suddenly hits the road in front of us reading, “Selected Recipient of XYZ…” Often times, people don’t realize what they’ve done until it’s over. They’re just trekking alone, trying their best to do what they think is right. Trying to better the world in their own little ways, when suddenly, they look back and… whoa! You saved someone’s life by smiling at them, which boosted their self confidence enough that they bought the tub of frozen yogurt they just put back, and in waiting two extra seconds for the cashier to scan that tub of cookies and cream frozen yogurt, that individual made it to their car a few seconds later, and because they didn’t want the frozen yogurt to melt, they took the shortcut home and missed a traffic jam on the scenic route, and in making that choice after thinking about it for a few seconds, they narrowly missed a collision. You saved somebody’s life by smiling at them. You were selected, and you didn’t even know it. 

Others of us are, if my personal view is by any percentage correct, more aware that we’ve been chosen. It’s not to do something particularly great, like end hunger or make world peace. We’re chosen to make a small difference in someone’s life simply being their friend and trying to be there when it counts.

I’ve often failed at this in the past. Most of the people I once called my “Best Friends” are as lost to me as the My Little Pony doll I took to the beach as a child. There’s just no getting them back. They’ve drifted too far to reel them back in. Maybe that’s why there’s not a line of people waiting to be my BFF, or even to be a good friend. I keep getting picked last, just like in elementary school PE. So, when I do get picked, I know it’s not because of the people who, for some alien reason, picked me. When I get picked for something, I know it’s because God has intervened and put me there for a bigger purpose. And even though I’m sitting here and I know I’m supposed to be doing something, I feel totally unprepared, but I know God has equipped me with what I need to glorify Him. 

You see, God didn’t send anyone to defeat Goliath. He sent David, the absolute perfect young man for the job. He didn’t select just any young woman to save the Jewish people; He picked Esther. And I believe that He’s in control of my situation now. That in being helpful and trying my best, I can glorify Him with the gifts that I have already, not unlike beauty and a smooth stone. 

Please pray for me. And for the people I’m trying to help. Pray that God picked me for a reason and that like Esther and David, I’ll know what to do to help the people I care about. 

Permalink It began, and so it ends, with a DQ Oreo Cheesecake Blizzard. Farewell, Reinhardt.
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A Girl Worth Fighting For

Here’s my question of the day.

I’m sorry if it’s depressing, but if you have ever felt like this, I hope that you can find comfort that you’re not alone.

Am I worth fighting for?

Still reeling from losing my brother and my best friend. They don’t talk to me. My brother, Randy, keeps trying to pretend that nothing happened. He’s twenty one and an idiot because he thinks that things can just go back. I’m willing to work on things, but I can’t pretend everything’s okay anymore. My heart was broken in a way I never though it would or could be. That’s the danger of letting someone in; sometimes they break their way out. My brother didn’t fight for me. He didn’t defend me. And he chose his girlfriend, whom he’s known less than eight months, over his sister, whom he’s known for eighteen years. 

Randy was my closest sibling. We shared a room for two years, sleeping in the same queen sized bed because we both wanted the room with the nightlight. When we were toddlers, and this is gross but it’s normal for little kids, we showered and took baths together. We’d use cheap shaving cream and draw on the shower door and give each other beards with the shaving cream. We’d make fun of each other and play stupid made-up games that become quickly immature when you reach middle school. But I loved it. Those years… I consider them some of our best. I thought I could talk to Randy, tell him anything. But he closed himself off to me. And he didn’t fight for me when it counted. Now I understand that people make mistakes. But he’s had a chance to make things right and he just won’t do it. And he still picks her over me. I’m jealous, yes, because I’m his sister and I want to be one of the women in his life. That’s a sister’s duty, right? To be there and love her brother? I can’t do it right now. Maybe I’ll be able to one day, but right now there’s not a future for us. He let my heart get broken, and he actually helped to break it. The worst part recently has been his complete lack of understanding. Randy just doesn’t understand how much he is to blame and how hurt I still am. I hurt all day, down to my core. For months, I’ve put on a happy face and convinced myself I was better, but it’s just too painful. I can’t be around him or his girlfriend, Sid, at all. Like, not even in the same house. 

They’ll sit upstairs with the dog and not let her come when I call. That sounds like such a small thing, but my dog is a huge comfort to me and I need her sometimes, so I don’t feel so alone. When I don’t want to talk to people, I’d rather sit with the dog and watch TV or read to get my mind off things. It helps me heal a little, but when they won’t let her come when I call, I don’t know what to do. I’m not an aggressive person. They don’t deserve to be slandered or shouted at, though they deserve a good talking to. But I’m over it. I want to move away from my home, away from my family, just because of this whole thing. It’s stupid and immature, I know, but I lost the two closest people to me. I feel so betrayed because they chose each other and I have no one left. Having to build new relationships of trust is taking too long and I don’t have anyone to talk to. 

Why was I not worth fighting for, Randy? I’m your baby sister. You were supposed to protect me. And now I can’t stand to look at you.

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Emerald Isle

A song about my obsession with Ireland. It sounds a little better with music, but here are the words.

Let me

Fly away

From here

I can’t

Stay here

Something calls me

From the sea

At night

When I’m holding on

To the last

Strand of light

I wanna fly away from here

Away from the sun

Away from the light

Let me fly away

To the Emerald Isle

The only place that I smile

Let me fly away

It’s an echo from

A distant time

I can hear the clock

Just ticking by

Tick Tock

Tick Tock

To me

Let me fly away from here

Away from the run

Away from the fight

Let me fly away

To the Emerald Isle

The only place that I smile

Let me fly away

To where the Irish roam

The only place that I know

The only place my heart’s home

Fly away from here

Where I used to feel okay

Let me fly away

Let me fly away

To the Emerald Isle

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None Will Be Left Astray.

Anger will give way to joy

And forgiveness will

Replace Regret.

Love will abound and those

Who were lost will again

Be found.

None will fear, but turn to love.

None will be left astray. 

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Funny Words and Random Thoughts

This is my brain at 7am without any sleep:

"Ok, you be you and I’m going to be Genna with a G."

"You do that one. More. Time…"

"Why did I agree to do this again? Oh right, bribery."

"Stop biting me you mangey cat!"

"I use Microsoft Word so I feel like I’m doing something official."

"Ok, this time you be you and I’ll be Keith but with the "i and e" flipped so it looks exotic."

Mom: I’ll wear the sweater with snowmen on it.

Me under my breath: Why? So you can finally have men all over you?

I told you I was awkward. 

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Seven Black Crows - A Poem

Seven black crows 

And I am one of them,

Sitting without purpose or reason

On the pavement,

No bugs or worms in sight.

We sit there and stare and

I can look at myself

As something other than present,

Without any reason.

But then I’ll lift into the air-

and fly away.

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So here’s the thing…

If you didn’t believe me earlier when I was like “Don’t rush into things!!!,” here’s where I tell you why. Because I had to learn the hard way and I don’t want anyone else to ever have to live through this. No one deserves to feel like this. I wouldn’t wish this horrible loneliness-  it’s basically loneliness on crack steroids and meth all at once- on anyone. ANYONE. Here’s my story.

Now, what I haven’t mentioned yet is that my brother, age 21, is a junior at the same school. In my head, I’d pictured he and I being best friends and doing everything as a super-hero sibling pair. That was just a pipe dream for three months. But by the end of October, my new best friend and my older brother started to like each other.

Eureka!!

The perfect plan: if I got them together, we could be the 3 AMIGOS!

And if anything happened to them, I would still have a best friend since Sid (the bff) and Randy (the brother) had each been mine first. And in the end, no matter what, worst case scenario, I would have a best friend who wasn’t so keen on my brother, and a brother who wasn’t so keen on my best friend. Best case: sister-in-law.

Everything was perfect.

I have slight (ha, no it’s bad, it’s actually very bad) commitment-phobia, but even I couldn’t deny that they were a cute couple and hoped they would stay together. As the best friend/sister I got to witness the big milestones of their relationship. First kiss-Halloween. First date- two weeks after. First sexy time- about four weeks after (although, let it be said that I’ve decided I’m not morally okay with premarital sexy time, at least not the whole 9 yards of it… just like three or four yards). First “L” word- about four weeks after, although Sid had professed to being an “L” word skeptic. I call BULL-S.

They became best friends and together, we were called the 3 Amigos. Christmas was a dream. But things had switched gears by New Year’s. Having my best friend and my brother be so close started to affect the group dynamic. They became closer and closer. They started talking about marriage and babies. And not in a “five years from now when we’re both over 21 years old” way. They started making inside jokes between the two of them and spending more time together than as a group. I’d never spent as much time with my brother as with Sid, but Sid started spending more time with Randy than with me. 

I became the outcast of my own group. How did that happen? Ok, it could be attributed to my slight bossiness, but things kept getting worse, so I didn’t understand how it could be all me. Was it all my fault?

Soon, like most kids their age, they were having sexy time all the time. I started rooming with Sid my second semester because we’d become such good friends. But they spent every day together. And they started leaving me out at lunch and dinner. They wanted to lay next to each other (because without room for a couch, you have to sit or lay on your bed to be minimally comfortable) and watch Netflix all the time. They wanted to kiss like sucker fishes and giggle. All normal relationship stuff. It’s mid April, and this has been going on since mid January. I’ve been miserable to four months and taken it silently except for a couple of times when I would ask them to be quiet because it really is annoying to listen to two people suck on each other’s faces all the time.

I’d been kept our of my own room on more than one occasion for… well you can guess. And then when I’d make fun of my brother for something, as a little sister thing and to secretly get back at him a little, and he would get upset. And then he would MOPE like a CHILD! And be gloomy and sit by himself silently like a 2 year old. Grow up! Sometimes Sid would side with me first and laugh at him because he was being ridiculous, but then she started sometimes siding with him and try to comfort him because she thought it was her job to coddle him. 

They’re already making wedding plans because Sid wants a family, not immediately, but within the next two years. No, it’s too soon! They’ve only known each other for six months and they’re both extremely immature. People who have just turned nineteen should NOT be getting married. Be engaged and have a five year plan. But getting married at nineteen is too young. You haven’t done anything yet! You haven’t really traveled. You’ve spent about 70-80% of your life thus far sitting in a concrete building with people trying to teach you how to add 2+2. In my opinion, it’s just too early. By 21, ok, but 19? Geez! And don’t say it’s because you don’t want your kids to have issues because if you want like three kids, you can do that in your thirties. My mom popped out 4 from the ages of 28-37, so you’ll be fine. Promise. Unless you want like 20 kids, but  then you’re just asking to not have a life. 

All of these 18-21 year olds getting married after knowing each other and dating for less than a year, you’re doing it wrong! It’s not 1940 anymore, and people aren’t to be trusted like they used to be. It takes a lot longer to get to know someone’s true nature. I promise you, the divorce rate when we’re all in our thirties and forties is going to be the highest in history. Just saying. And it won’t be my fault, I guarantee you. 

But back to the story: In the past month, I’ve been increasingly ignored. Not a conversation or a text message over ten characters or so in a month. My best friend won’t talk to me. At All. How am I supposed to know if she’s mad or upset? And my brother won’t talk to me. He won’t even consider me enough to let me know if anything’s going on. What kind of brother does that to his baby sister? I trusted him. I thought he would try and protect me? Now he’ll always be the one who stole my best friend from me. And I don’t know yet if I can forgive him. 

And it sucks that I’m an introvert and a passive person and whatever, but I haven’t really said much      -A. Because I haven’t gotten a chance to because they won’t talk to me at all. and       B. Because I keep hoping, in vain, that things will get better. And they’re only getting worse. 

Sid moved out last week. She’d moved her clothes out and finally got the courage to tell me. Although, she’d moved her clothes out and was taking her pictures off the wall. What am I, an idiot? No, not normally at least.

When she had been at school (for the past two months, she’d spend less and less time on campus because she lives twenty minutes from the school and went home two or three times a week) she would turn up the icy cold AC and close all the blinds and lay on her bed in the dark watching Netflix with Randy. And she hasn’t talked to me in a week. I’ve tried to start conversations with her but nothing. And my idiot brother spends all his time in his room or in the basement of our house texting her.

All this says to me is that they don’t care about me. Who the HELL does that? Just stops talking to your best friend or sister with no cause or reason or an explanation? Who does that! Who completely disregards their best friend and their sister like that WITHOUT A WORD?

And I don’t even know what I’ve done. If I knew, I could have some closure, or be sorry for what I did and be able to move on.

But they were my only good friends for months. They were the ones I told my fears and my aggravations to.

Until I came to rely on Maddie and Brent and Colby. They’ve been angels. They keep me smiling and make me feel cared for. They’ve been better friends through this and I don’t even think they know it. Now I spend time with them in class and studying. They’ve kept me from falling so far within myself that I fought off the depression I felt was trying to suffocate me for two months. And every time I felt like the world was ending and I would break and shatter, I prayed.

I’ve prayed and asked God to be with me and fill my heart with His love and His forgiveness more times in the past month than in the past 18 years of my life. And I’ve had the most serene peace.

Sometimes I get to the breaking point again, like I’m right on the edge and just jumping will finally end this heart-breaking agony of emotionally losing the two people closest to me- the two people I wanted to plan my life with- the two people I loved and trusted more than anyone else and more than I ever have before. But as soon as I see that precipice, I look to God. And I remind myself that my life is not my own. It’s HIS, and He has bigger plans for me than for me to sit and cry and be depressed. He’s not finished with me yet. I’ve got so much more to do and to worry about. 

And this fall I’m transferring to a University with a great science program. I want to be a doctor so I can help people and make a difference. And I want to keep up with politics like my parents and I’ll be able to help and get involved thanks to my sister. And someday, I’m going to make a difference in this world. I don’t know how, but God has reminded me over and over that He’s got a bigger plan for me. And this pain, these tears, are fleeting. They won’t last forever. But His glory will. 

And I’m going to trust in that. I couldn’t still love my brother and his girlfriend on my own. The only reason I’m still about to be brave enough to love them is because God’s love is so great that His love for me overflows and I have to share it. People say “Love is the closest thing that we have to magic.” 

No. Love is the closest we get to God. 

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College Year 1: A Review

My first year of college is winding down. That’s right, I’ll have survived an entire year of college. Let me start his by saying that a LOT has been put into perspective in the last few months. The plans I thought I had for my life have changed and some have been postponed. Others, I won’t be able to ever achieve and that’s okay. 

This year has been so fun, but the past three months have been extremely difficult for me. Emotionally and mentally, I’ve been stressed and pulled Laffy-Taffy style to my absolute limit. And just when I thought I would break or snap or I wouldn’t be able to take it, I put my trust in God and he brought me unexplainable peace. The people I had relied on most for the past six months were abandoning me without explanation. A lot of this doesn’t make sense, so let me back up a little.

I started college at a small University in north Georgia. When I say small, I mean that this college has less students than my high school. It’s difficult as an academic because it’s not the most prestigious is math and science, though it’s Lit program is pretty amazing, as is the business and history. Another issue is with so few students, about 70% of them are athletes. When a school with 2000 kids makes a football team with nearly 200 players, it changes the environment. And not necessarily in a good way. Some of those football players are nice and smart and good-hearted small-town people. Others came from who knows where and only came because the school is small enough that they got to play almost every game. I think a lot of the players failed out or transferred or something because this semester has been better than last semester. But there’s a lot of soccer, lacrosse, and track athletes. Like a lot!

Few students are not involved in sports, and I was one of those. I picked up the school newspaper and being the improv troupe’s videographer as my two activities. There are also religious groups on campus, but they were a little too intense for a modest, private girl like me. I’ve never been one to pray over another person for the Holy Spirit to come and heal them right that second. I’ve always, my mother being a doctor been a firm believer that God heals primarily through science, and that prayer alone isn’t necessarily going to help. Like, you should meet God halfway instead of just telling him to heal you. Sorry, that sounds rude but it’s hard for me to put this kind of thing into words. 

The other students who aren’t athletes are there to get academic help, not that they’re stupid because that’s not true. These kids just need help with organization or have one subject that’s hard for them. One girl in my suite is really smart and does pretty well but she takes a little longer to understand things, so she gets extra help to take tests and gets organizational help. Small problems, that might require a tutor once a week. But I’ve always been an honors kid. I’m saying that like it’s a bad things, but it kind of is. It’s annoying to say the least. Because when I say “honors kid”, I mean the one who’s never quite at the top of the class but who does well overall and makes up in academics what I lack in actual social skills. I promise I’m about 1000x more awkward in person than I am when I write. 

Anyway, that’s the atmosphere of the school. Everyone knows everyone’s business and there’s a lot of big university stuff that happens and everyone is basically involved because there’s not enough students for anyone to not be involved. 

So through all of this stuff and not finding someone I could really see myself being friends with, I found someone! It took about a month for us to really hit it off, but once we did, we had inside jokes, nicknames, and had vowed to be best friends for life.

DON’T EVER DO THIS! TAKE YOUR TIME AND TAKE IT SLOW! A friendship is like a relationship, it takes about four months to really get to a point where you should begin to trust them fully. And it takes about six months before you should even THINK about saying the “L” word. By month three, I’d told this new best friend that I “lava”-ed her and a friendship was born. 

But these things don’t survive. You have to be careful. 

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