Writing. Yes, that’s what I’m sitting here and doing (obviously). Honestly? I miss it. I miss everything about it since school keeps me so busy. I know that I write when I compose an essay for a class or jot down notes in a lecture. I’m referring to real writing. I’m talking about the FEELING of writing.
I still have a diary. I don’t care what you say, guys. I am 21 and I do still have one. Why wouldn’t I? I’m a writer, remember?
School is now at its peak, homework and all. However, spring break is next week. And, it doesn’t really matter to me because I have work tues, thurs, sat of the week. When I’m not working, there’s homework of course. My teacher decided to give us like 152 pages of reading over the break. Seriously, dude? Is that what YOU will be doing? I’m sorry, but I actually have a life outside of being a student and a worker. If you don’t, then I can’t help you, sorrys.
Anyway, the guy situation. Of course you want to know about that. Duh. Well… my former bf has been looking for a girlfriend now for quite sometime. Yes, I realize I should be doing that same. But I don’t want to look, I just want it to happen. It always happens when I least expect it.
February 26th, 2011. Here I am 21-years old going for my BA in english and minoring in psych. Complicated things arrive at the worst times, but you have to work through out. That’s the only way possible.
February 24th, 2011: My cousin Eddie would have been 16. He died May 27th, 2001, my brother’s birthday. If you ask me to reluctant the events that happened in that day I could. I was in 6th grade. My dad told my mom, and 2 brothers, after he got off the phone, that my cousin inhaled a thumbtack. That was all the info he gave us.
Later, I was writing an essay for chorus, since I didn’t attend the last few practices. Dad in the shower, 2 brothers in the other room. The phone rang. It’s my grandma. I hear my mom say, “Hello.” Then I hear her whimper “No.” My heart began to beat. No one would be prepared for the news she was about to tell us that Eddie died. My 6-year-old cousin, happy go-lucky kid had just died. I sware I couldn’t write that essay anymore. There would be NO way in hell. I sat there shaking. Then I followed my mom as she went to go tell my dad in the shower. He said he knew.
We all went to the hospital. Now, remember, this was on my younger brother’s birthday. We waited in the waiting room for a few minutes then went to look for my uncle and aunt. I recall going in this room where they were at, in shock, crying, hugging my mom and dad.
Then we saw him. Cold. Hard. No pulse. A little bit blue. Come on, I am 11 years old staring at my cousin who is laying on this table. Thinking about all the memories we had. Come on! I was struck. My other family came a little later. I remember my cousin saying, “Eddie told me a few weeks ago he missed you. You were one of his favorites.” Gosh did I love Eddie. He was honestly one of my favorite cousins. And don’t you dare think for one second I ever recovered from his death. Geez lou weez. Nope.
The lesson in this is to appreciate what you have. Please do.
I love you guys.