Preface

               In an instant, your whole life can change, right before your very eyes, or maybe even out of view. One thing is for certain though, life is not always fair, life can be very short, and not everyone will be able to be your friend in the end. I, for one, learned all this the hard and cruel way in life, but during the process, I went through many stages of happiness, chronic depression, and more importantly, a moment of inspiration, telling people that they don’t want to end up like me, a senior for the second time and still having issues. Not knowing where I belong or where I should go in this round piece of rock called earth.

               It all began when I was born, but since that is such a far off time, I’ll speed it up. My mom and my dad were never together, not married, nor even living in the same house. I was their perfect little accident, well maybe not perfect but still. Growing up, I didn’t see much of my dad, but the earliest I remember seeing him every other weekend was in kindergarten. Hearing my parents fighting outside the car every time they met to trade off, it hurts a kid deeply. And hurt is what I received in the end, that’s for sure.

               By the time fifth grade came around, my parents will still arguing in court about custody, my mom had gone through about 5 or 6 guys and found one she actually liked for once, my stepdad, and my dad was able to change my last name to his. Though, for some reason, my dad started to blow me off to “work” as he called it. One skipped weekend turned into two, and as time went by, it turned into five weekends in a row that he didn’t see me, nor did I see him. At first, I found it as no big deal, “you know, he must be busy with his business or maybe Dale needs him to do extra stuff around the shop” I told myself that for a while. Then, I started to get upset and mad at him, because my little fifth grade mind started thinking harder on the situation to when I realized that he was just “blowing me off” like some of the people I considered friends to me did later on.

               Then, it happened.

               The day happened just like any other day. It was Saturday, I had just finished playing outside and watching tv with some of the apartment kids. I told my mom that I was going to bed when she told me to wait and that’s when I noticed her crying and her fiancé holding her on the couch. “I don’t know the details yet, but your grandpa called, your dad is in the hospital, and he’s not doing to good..” I was shocked, stunned, and angry. The man I had just talked to three days ago, my dad, was gone. The man that I told that him “I love you too” with that anger in my voice that wanted to tell him “no you don’t, you just want to blow me off again”, wouldn’t be able to tell me “I love you” again. The last thing I had said to him was “whatever, I love you too. Bye.” And I didn’t even mean it when I said it. Now I would never be able to take it back, and tell him to his face, that I loved him and that I didn’t mean it last time when I said it so angrily and hateful.

               Honestly though, at first I was quiet relieved thinking ‘he’s gone, no more of him and mom arguing or anything!’ and I couldn’t be any happier. Then, things started changing, for the worse in my opinion, but the best for my mom and her fiancé. My mom and I packed up our things, and moved to Illinois from Missouri so they could live together, and I be dragged along. Worst. Change. Ever. All the friends I thought I made in Illinois were just masked people who wanted to pretend to help me but drop me like a rock the second they had a chance. I had no life there and I wanted my dad to just come and take me away from that horrid place. But when I came to terms with reality, that my dad won’t just come sweep me off my feet to save me, I started to become deeply depressed. The only friends I made were the school counselor and school psychologist, and my mom didn’t even know about them. Every day I would sit in their offices during morning get together and lunch because I didn’t want to deal with more hurt nor with people I didn’t know. I masked the depression I was having with happiness and excitement everyday so that people wouldn’t see any of my hurt, not even my own family.

               As worse came to worse, I moved out of my mom’s house hoping for a better life, when really, my life just shot down worse. First I was kicked out of my friend’s house, then school dropped me because I stopped calling them to tell them I was sick because of stress, then kicked out of another house. In the time of one year, I had moved about five times and eventually went back to Missouri, but then I lost my job and couldn’t afford to help pay my half of the rent, and left. Now things are progressively getting back to me to me being able to control things in my life with a stable household that actually cares for me. I’m obviously back in school, still not doing to well with it, but I’m doing my best. Between getting bullied and pushed around, to being sick, I am trying my best to do what I can to show up.

               So no, life isn’t fair. People can make mistakes and they do. Not everyone is a perfect person. Not everyone can be your friend and hold your hand until the end. Life can change with the snap of your fingers. Most importantly, life can be short, so do what you can, while you can, and leave your mark on this planet before it’s to late, because I still don’t know what I’m going to do to leave my mark yet, and for all I know, I could die before tomorrow even begins.

~10/18/11~