letting go

How I had to learn to let go at an early age.

I had to learn how to let go at an early age. I remember the age of 8 clearly in my mind, if I dont remember anything else in my life. That was the first time I lost two of the biggest influences (wheather god or bad) in my life. Now I dont mean letting go of a boyfriend, or girlfriend, or friend in general but family. First that was the age that my grandfather, my grandmothers husband, died in the room above me. The thought give me the creeps for how I could be sleeping so soundly, had just kissed his cheek for the last time, and sayng goodnight when I would wake up and see his body empty of life. I remember my grandma standing in the streets screaming with tears running down her face in anger at herself for just that same night they had aurgued. i remember standing in my bedroom holding my baby cousin as i watched through the crack them carrying his body out. i loved him so much and that killed me, that die he died inside me. i remember barely making it through school but coming home to talking to my mother about death. thats a convosation you really dont want to have at the age of 8 but it was helpful. second i remember that was the same year that i had so much anger against my mother for not seing my father. i havent seen him since i was 8 but i do remember the last time i saw him riding off on his bike. i never understood why i couldnt go see hm or why he didnt come see me anymore, i always blammed my mother thinking it was her fault but it really wasnt. she sat me down and told me that he told her he couldnt take care of me and didnt want to have anything to do with me. he didnt even have the decency to talk to me himself or even say bye but instead told his side of the family along with y younger sibblings they culdnt see me anymore. that was really the hardest thing letting go of all my babies.  but after that tak i still remember those same feelings of how i could never be loved and how i did everything wrong. i felt as if someone cut off my air and i was living without breathing, just a hollow body of what i use to be. that cut deep and hurt so much that for years i hurt people without even knowing. but that was the same year a blessing came for me and my mom. it was my godsis and godmom who showed me i could be loved and although she wasnt in the situation personally she kept giving me advice. we was a family. so i say again the age 8 really stands out for me because i lost alot but gained some back. i still have the feelings of anger against him where i feel as though hes just a sperm donor, a stranger in my eyes. i hope i never see him again and he dont ever claim me because although them feelings hurt bad i moved on and became a much better person for it. the point for telling this story was to show that even when your hurt theres always someone loooking down on you and you are always loved.

Author's Note

please excuse the capitalization and punctuation errors

Reviews

[Chellie]

Ok. Well I am going to leave you an honest reivew for this. I think your story was touching. I loved it, and it really got to me. But I think that there are a few things that you could fix, to make it better. Go back and reread it and fix all grammer, punctuation, and sentence fragments. It seemed like it was written fast, and I think that if you would make it a little more longer and detailed people might relate to you better and understand easier.

Another thing is that it seemed to kind of skip around. Tell it like a story. Make the events that happend first come first, so that it leads up to your moral of the story. Also, make sure to seperate it into paragraphs, because reading one giant paragraph can be tiring and confusing. But all in all, it was a great story. It really shows what happens in everyday life that not everyone has to go through, and at such a young age too.