And the saddest part was that he would never know.

I have no reason to stay here she said. Of course you do, you love this city, he responded. I think I’m allowed to love more than one city she retorted. He shrugged and delivered a I guess so. What she wanted to say was that all she needed was one tiny reason to stay, but she knew he would never give her that. She really would like to stay and everyone knew it but him.

In a few short years she had fallen in love with both the good and the bad in the so-called city of angels. Even the traffic wasn’t such a big deal to her on most days. The air was always perfect, the sky the perfect shade of blue (in most parts of the city anyway) and the people were the best part. Living in Los Angeles, actually living not merely attending school in L.A., had instilled in her a sense of adventure. Angelinos come from all over. Many have seen the world and chosen to settle down in LA, many come looking to fulfill a dream, and some come just because the weather’s nice. Whatever reason, it is a city of wanderers and adventure-seeking folk. While the more affluent jet-setters travel to several nations, others are content to take a drive and explore the rest of the state, and on an even smaller scale, explore the city. There will always be somewhere in the city you’ve never been to, and visiting, exploring, and experiencing new things are what make Angelinos, Angelinos. She loved it.

And yet, she was forcing herself to leave it. You could say it was so that she could come back and appreciate the city more. You could also say it was to see what living on the opposite coast was like. You could even say it was just because she could. And while all of those reasons were in fact true, the real reason she knew she had to leave was that it had all begun to become unbearable. There was a limit to how many times she could lose him right in front of her eyes and that limit was soon to be reached. And so, she let him go. With all her things in boxes in her mother’s garage, and with her one huge luggage equipped with all she would need for a year, she hugged her family goodbye. Everyone had accompanied her to the airport, everyone but him.

She knew he couldn’t make it, he was working as usual. So they had their platonic goodbyes prior to her departure. But of course she wished for that movie script ending where he’d rush through the gates and bribe security to let him through so that just as she was about to hand the flight attendant her ticket he’d yell her name and beg her not to go. He would proclaim his love for her in front of hundreds of strangers in the airport, and then he’d take her in his arms and kiss her just like in a Clark Gable movie. But he never came.

She boarded the flight alone, and as she took her seat she sighed and prayed to God that she’d forget him. That one year would be enough to let him go. That one year would change everything. That in one year she’d find someone else who would love her back. But mostly she prayed that her leaving might make him love her. That’s the thing about prayers. Sometimes they feel like nothing more than wishes that we make ourselves believe in more. And many times wishes don’t come true. She prayed anyway. Because unlike wishes, God was in charge of prayers. And she had to believe that God had some kind of plan, hopefully an even better plan than she had ever imagined for herself.

Belief (2)

***So okay...I got some comments on the last post, so I decided to post a bit more of what the last one was. Same assignment, same class, just more of what came before it.

I believe that you have to find what makes you happy and do it. I think that believing I was supposed to be a doctor because it’s what my parents wanted of me was stupid. I think pursuing a career of anyone else’s choice but your own is stupid. I think that pursuing a career just because you think you’ll make some great fortune is stupid. I think that all of those reasons will merely result in you hating your job, and thus hating your life, enabling you to take this hate out on other people. I know that finding what makes you happy is the hardest thing to do, but that is what makes it worth it. I also know that it can take a very, very long time to find it, and that for many you have to spend a few years hating your job until you realize your calling. But once you find it, whether its running a huge corporation, or singing, or being a Mother, don’t ignore it, don’t let it go.

I believe it’s okay to make mistakes, but not okay to have regrets. Regrets are what happen when we don’t let go. If you can’t let go and learn from your mistakes, you’ll just end up making yourself sick. Mistakes add character, they are what make us who we are. If we were all perfect, we’d all be bored. If I was never a complete bitch in high school, I wouldn’t be able to have something to learn and grow from. Another very difficult part of life is letting go of your mistakes and not allowing them to turn into regrets, but you must. We must all move on, and we must all learn.

I would like to believe that people are inherently good, but I can’t. If people were inherently good, we wouldn’t have to work as hard to be nice. I think that people have to learn to be good people. People learn these things through family, through experience, and through interaction with others. I don’t think that babies are born and are evil, although at times it can definitely seem that way. But babies are innocent, and depending on when one loses that wide-eyed innocence is when the good is lost, and must be rebuilt and relearned. I don’t think that it’s a bad thing that people aren’t inherently good. I think that relearning goodness is one of the best experiences we can have. Because while we can never get our innocence back, kindness can be learned, which is as close to innocence as we can get.

I believe that strangers can change your life. I can honestly say that there are people I have never met who are the reason I am alive today. Characters in books, or movies, or tv shows, or even just random acts of kindness witnessed in a grocery store, can change our lives. We learn from them, we witness their benevolence from afar and are thus more able to appreciate it. It’s always harder to tell your deepest secrets to close friends or family than complete strangers. Because strangers don’t judge you, or if they do you’ll never know it because they’re mere passersby. It is the beauty of living in such a vast world. You will never be able to meet everyone in the country, let alone the world. Therefore the realization of the smallness of ourselves in comparison to the greatness of the world, helps us to be better people.

I believe that education is ridiculously important. This doesn’t have to be in a classroom. It can be in a church, or a temple, or a mosque, or a street corner, or a home, or even a bar. But I think that we should never, ever stop learning, nor should we feel greater than anyone else for being "traditionally educated." The greatest part of college is that you learn many different subjects, though you focus on one discipline, and you simultaneously learn so much about yourself. I think that people need to read more and watch television less, that people should listen to all sorts of music rather than just the songs that they can shake their asses to. I think that people should stop using text message lingo in real life speech, thus stopping the disintegration of the English language.

Belief.

***Disclaimer: This is a part of an assignment for a class I had this summer. It is probably the first and last time anything on here will really be about me.

I believe that if people relaxed in traffic, it would make it more bearable for everyone. I believe that my Mom is one of the smartest people I know. I believe that I have the greatest friends in the world. I believe that Los Angeles is one of the greatest cities ever. I believe that while Los Angeles has disgusting air quality and even more disgusting traffic, it’s the people that make it worthwhile. I believe that you should have safe sex before you’re married, because you can’t buy a car without test driving it. I don’t think that people should be whores before their married, but they should be aware that sex is a very important part of a relationship, but it is definitely not the most important. I believe that communication is the key to any successful relationship, partnership, business, and every other type of interaction between humans. I believe that it’s okay to be a little lost sometimes, because it lets you see and experience things you wouldn’t have if you had stayed on track. I believe that there is an unfathomable amount of beauty in the world. And I believe in Love.

I once tried to write a three minute speech about love for academic decathlon. My coach hated it, but still I learned a lot. I learned that there are three types of love, philos, eros, and agape. Philos is brotherly love, eros is erotic love, and agape is the greatest of all: sacrificial love. Well, that is what the text books talk about. While I am sure that there are different types of love, I don’t think it matters whatsoever. God never asked us to like anyone, but he did ask us to love everyone. When it comes down to it, if we all just try to love each other a little bit more, things would be so much better. I don’t know if we could change the world just by loving, in fact I highly doubt it. But that doesn’t mean that we can’t change our own worlds by loving.

I hated myself for the longest time. I pretended to have high self esteem so that people believed me when I said a cat scratched me when they saw the scars from where I cut myself. I pretended to feel pretty everyday, and to smile and giggle, and bat my eyelashes at the boys. It gets really tiring to act out an entire lifetime. And then, I just learned to let it all just go. I learned that I have no reason to hate myself, that my past is my past and there’s nothing I can do about it. But I can make today awesome, and hope that tomorrow’s even better. And the way to feel better, is to just love your heart out. Even on your crappiest day, you just have to remember how important you are to those who love you. Then you love them back, and it helps you to keep going, it helps you to put on a real smile, and let out a real laugh.

I believe in the goodness of others. I believe in the love of my friends and my family. And I believe that love is the greatest gift we have.

Condolences.

And as she lay broken on the floor, she suddenly stopped crying. It felt as if her tears had run out. But she wasn’t ready to get up yet. She couldn’t bring herself to take that step into the world again. The saddest thing to see is a child’s loss of innocence. It is as if all the beauty in the world has completely disappeared and they are left with only pain, and sadness, and darkness. It is easy then to understand why children can turn out to be such angry adults. Or why Freud has allowed us to explain everything wrong with us as psychological problems. While he’s probably right, what he didn’t know is that the girl’s brokenness is what made her. She had to be broken down in order to be built back up. And though the breaking down is much more swift and seemingly easier than the building, it was necessary. Her tears did not run out, she was merely too exhausted to keep crying. She knew it would take the only ounce of strength she had left to pick herself up off the floor. She didn’t want to do it. She would much rather remain in the solitude and darkness of the floor of her bedroom. She would much rather close her eyes and will herself to sleep, hoping and wishing that she wouldn’t have to wake up to this nightmare that was her life. But she couldn’t sleep. Something in her head just wouldn’t let her. She rolled over and stared at the ceiling. Maybe it’s asbestos she hoped, knowing that it surely wasn’t. And then in one slow motion she sat up and stared at the door.
When one has never felt completely desolate, or alone, or sorrowful, they will never be able to understand when others feel as such. Consolation is appreciated, but understanding is what is most needed. She stood up and looked in the mirror by the door. She knew what was beyond that door, trite phrases of condolences and such, hugs from supposed family members she had never met in her life, etcetera. She didn’t want to see it, or hear it, or be a part of their guilt-driven presence in her home. How could they ask such a broken girl to greet others with a half smile? But she knew she had to do it. She knew it was key in the rebuilding of her broken heart, her broken soul. And so she opened the door, and realized there was no room full of trite condolences. That what was lost was within herself, and that no one mourns the loss of a child’s innocence. Everything seemed like it always was, yet within her, all was changed.

Daughters.

“I have a daughter,” she told me. “She’s beautiful,” she went on, “I never planned on her. I never planned on being a mother ever. But she changed my life.” I didn’t ask any questions about her daughter. I thought it might be inappropriate to ask such questions to a stranger. I just listened, and then she said. “I think made a mistake with her. I don’t think she knew how much I love her.” I wanted to shake my head and try to tell her all the trite things that came to mind to try to convince her otherwise. But I didn’t.

“Her father left as soon as he found out she existed, that bastard. I always knew he was a little bitch. We didn’t need him anyway. When she was little, I used to tell her I loved her all the time. My mother was always pretty bad at that touchy feely type of stuff, so I made it a point to be the opposite. I think a lot of young parents do that. But as she got older, she didn’t want the kiss and hug in front of her friends. I pretended it didn’t hurt. And then she met him. I knew he loved her from the start, that’s why I never really questioned it. I mean sure they were young, but that doesn’t make their feelings any less valid. He loved her the way she needed to be loved, and I knew that. I knew that she was getting to the point where she thought she didn’t need me, and that’s fine. All kids do that to their mothers. But what none of them realize is how bad it breaks our hearts. I lost her to him. I knew I would. I knew, and I think to some extent he knew, that it would happen sooner or later. She was everything to me, and I just had to let her go.

That’s the worst part about being a mother you know? None of us ever talk about it with children but that’s how it really is if you want to know the truth. We want our children right by our side forever. We know it’s never gonna happen, but that doesn’t mean we can’t pray for it every second we can. But then they go. And we’re left alone, wondering and worrying and hoping and praying and calling. It never ends you know? Even as your children get older it’s still the same. You might not be worrying about whether or not they need a diaper change anymore, but you always worry about whether or not they’re okay. If they’re warm and fed and well, happy. And that’s why it was okay that I lost her to him. Because I knew she’d be happy. I knew they’d both be happy. And I’d be broken and lost, but as long as she was happy, well that’s all I’ve ever wanted in the whole world anyway.

They’re both gone now. Right in that room over there is where she left. They wanted me to fill out papers and whatever bullshit these hospitals make you do. I said no. I said I needed to wait. They said that I can’t. Then, hah!, then I told them to fuck off. You should’ve seen the look on their faces! I don’t think doctors and nurses are used to hearing that kind of stuff from a lady like me. God, I hate emergency rooms. Some of these people just don’t have insurance so they get to waste everyone’s damn time!
Anyway, she was beautiful, my daughter. He was a looker too. Gorgeous couple those two. It’s kind of funny though isn’t it? That fat, ugly, disgusting drunk survived. Meaning he gets to go on ruining everyone’s lives by forcing us to look at him. And my girl, whose smile lit up every room she went into, who brightened everyone’s day, didn’t make it. What kind of fucked up shit is that right? What kind of mother fucking shit is that?! Since when is it okay for children to die before their parents?! Since when is any of this shit okay?!”
She stopped. I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know if I should give her a hug, or call security, she was yelling pretty loud. She got quiet again though.

“You know what? I think it might be okay. I think she had more of a full life than I ever will, to be honest. It’s just, I told her to wear her fucking seatbelt you know? Children never listen. Well they do, but only until they find out you’re actually right. But of course, she would never admit that I’m right. Which is fine. I just wish, I could‘ve told her more. But I guess that’s fine. She’s with him. And he’ll make sure she’s happy. I’m sure it’s going to be fine.”

The nurses came. They had multiple clipboards. They couldn’t give her anymore time. She smiled at me and then followed the nurse down some hallway. I think sometimes youth can seem quite ungrateful. But mother’s will always know what’s in our heart. They’re freakishly intuitive in that respect. I think I wasn’t supposed to say anything to her. I think I’m supposed to feel bad for not consoling her, but I also think that trite consolation is worse than none at all. I think just having someone listen is more than enough sometimes. I called my Mom after she left. I think the no cell phone rule in hospitals is bullshit. I didn’t tell my Mom what happened. I just made sure to tell her I loved her at the end of the call. I think her daughter must have been beautiful. For her mother’s soul was extraordinary. And I‘m pretty sure, I just encountered one of the most remarkable people I will ever meet in my life.

A Part of Something Bigger.

He was very young when it all began to happen. To a point whatever completely moronic things we do when we’re children has no real bearing on us as adults. Things just happen, and we don’t know any better. And it is these mistakes and our parents correcting or pointing out these mistakes that shapes our futures. However, most corrections and life lessons he unfortunately had to correct himself. A perfect, prestigious education was never really asked of him, family was never a huge priority, and friends were pretty much vapid and shallow. A situation, early on, was created in which anyone would easily be broken and fall. And yet, regardless of the fact that much of the things many people reflect fondly upon were robbed of him, and while it was never asked, much less expected, of him he consistently strove for excellence.

His story is one that is quite different yet just as sad if not sadder than my own. It is a story of struggle, of being lost, of losing, and of terrible experiences many would not be able to withstand. And he tells it all without shedding a tear. Perhaps it is a part of the defense mechanism he was forced to create within himself in order to survive. Or maybe it’s just because he is stronger than most. Either way, against all odds, he achieved every single thing he set out to do. He works hard, and while other aspects of life may come somewhat easy to him, with everything else, it is a fight. Everyday of his life has been a battle. And while there have been some losses, where the pleasures of the world take precedence over what’s really important, there have been an overwhelming amount of victories.

He tells me he’s unhappy. That he’s never really been happy. And for some reason continues to relay to me every instance of pain that he has ever experienced. Though I feel unworthy to hear of such things so close to one’s heart, I listen. I feel it is what he needs most of me. I wonder though, why while he has so much pride, it is as if he thinks so much is lacking of him. I remind him of his accomplishments, of all the amazing things he has done, of reasons that he should feel better. He dismisses each reason. Possibly due to some type of incredible virtuosity and humility. Or, of something else entirely.

It is understandable that he should feel bombarded with negativity and pain and hardship. It is also understandable that he acts the way he acts, and thinks the way he thinks. Yet I wish that he could see what others see. I wish others creation of litanies attributing to his greatness didn’t issue a great amount of awkwardness or irritation within him. I know he deserves every amount of praise he receives, for he works for every drop of it. I believe he knows he deserves it as well, for he knows better than anyone what he has done to get to where he is.

However, there is one aspect, or person rather, in his life that has the capability of making him happy or sad. He once said she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. And though he has said he had been in love multiple times, and had his heart broken multiple times, which were contributions to the makings of his brokenness, I think that maybe his happiness was always wrapped up in one person. She must mean everything to him, I always think. Because, while he can talk about her irrationality, and go on perpetual diatribes of her mistakes in life, it’s so easy to see in his eyes just how much he completely loves her.

His story is not ended, he has much to tell, and I think it will always be this way. He has been broken in so many ways I think perhaps he has come to believe that he is irreparable. I do not think this is true. I believe he has been, will be, and is hurt. But that does not at all define him. He has the capability of achieving greatness, the stuff of legends as some may say. He says that it’s too idealistic to think that everything will be okay, and that he’ll someday be happy. But maybe sometimes, its okay to be a little idealistic. He has a strength that many can only pray to someday have, myself included. I hope he knows that. I hope that when he achieves greatness, he won’t forget me. And I know that his story will have a happy ending. And after he reads it, maybe he’ll even smile.

love.

Life can be hilarious at times. And at others it can be quite sad. And if your life is full of ridiculous contrasts and oxy morons, life can be hilariously sad.

Imagine the saddest moment you ever lived through, the most desperate moment, the most intense moment, the most angry you’ve ever been, the most frustrated, the most embarrassed, the most scared, the most agitated, hungry, tired, and irritated. And then imagine that every single day of your life, this is the feeling that you wake up with. It definitely makes for an incredibly sorrowful existence. So if this is every single day of your life, if you’re forced to get out of bed feeling like this, and encounter the world feeling like this, it can be imagined that life would be incredibly difficult. Moreover, due to the immense difficulty of that which is your life, it can be imagined that you would look for things to make it more bearable. Food, gardening, art, movies, dance, music, books, sex, weed, alcohol, cocaine. Whatever gets you through the day. But many things that offset the desperate sorrow of life, easily lead to self-destruction. Hence, the importance of love.

We will all inevitably encounter much negativity in our lives. Many times, we will let it affect us, because it is so much easier to hear the good rather than the bad. Negativity and meanness is so much easier to feed into. Thus again, the importance of love. We need to love each other. And we need to let people know it. People need to be thanked and praised for their good works. And people need to feel that people care about them. That way, everyone can have much more fun together, and we will all have more hilarious days, rather than sad.