How Not To Pray

There are certain times in a persons life, and I happen to know this for a fact; that every person in the Christian, Jewish, Muslim, Hindi, Taoist, Shinto or even the “believers”, “followers”….

There are times when we all feel a need to pray…to somebody or something.

The overwhelming, not quite cognizant drive to fall to your knees and do…something, ANYTHING!

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Despite what we have all been led to believe by other “learned” men/women on our blue marble, there are no rules stating that said prayers have to be about thanks, grief, vanity, money or whatever….suggestions, but as far as I know, the Lord’s Prayer in the Christian Bible, is the only one with rules on how a prayer must be done.

You know… Official like….

But, the rule that is non-negotiable or maybe just expected, is that you DO have to report in every now and again; rip your insecurities out, spill your heart on the floor, yell, scream, whisper, cry, laugh, beg for a horrific end to your mother in law……while on your knees; penitent.

Broken heart, contrite spirit.

Oh, the other rule….

Don’t be lazy if you can help it.

Knees are preferred…

This happened to me a few minutes ago.

I’m in a shower at the a truck stop; dripping wet, shaving cream on my face and Heavenly Father wants to talk.

So….we talked.

No choice, really.

Let me step back…and PONTIFICATE.

We follow the Bible and its teachings for a while, right?

Then we started to really get into worshipping it and wanted everyone else on the planet to feel our joy and love; so we went on crusades and missions and wars; righteously killing millions of heretics, pagans, witches, infidels, musselmen and assorted other Moors, Catholics, Protestants, Mormons and about 82 Branch Davidians….that the government, which was based constitutionally on these same biblical Christian values, didn’t like very much.

I wonder if the kids screamed while they burned….

And the list goes on; even today.

I don’t believe we’re as civilized as we profess to be, really….

But, I digress and I apologize.

I’m having my usual pessimistic outlook on life during this joyous season and I guess the Lord noticed, because I’ve been behaving badly and been kind of an a-hole, lately.

So, like I stated earlier in this post, God drove me to my knees in this truck stop shower; somewhere in Oklahoma. Dripping wet, shaving cream on my face, naked as a Buddha and Heavenly Father decides he wants to talk to me.

Well, I suspect now, in hindsight and reflection; that’s what we’re supposed to do after we pray…reflect; so, I’m freaking reflecting!

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So, in this reflection, I think he was tired of seeing me mope around, thinking crummy thoughts, not seeing good in anything; basically being a pill and an a-hole, as stated before and possibly witnessed by many, including my very own self.

Isn’t it terrible when you realize you’re being an a-hole and don’t care?

You just want to hurt and be rude and judge and hypocrite…..more stuff; until everyone else gets butthurt and turns into an a-hole too, and joins my little pity party!?

Anywhos…

As I stared into the fogged up mirror; shaving cream on my face, razor held up by my right cheek, barely able to see my big, fat pink body in the mirror, except for the little spot I had cleared with the razor free hand and was presently fixated on.

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I heard a still small voice and I recognized it for who it was.

I made the “What was that face?” for effect.

Thats when an urge fell over me, I can’t explain it.

I put down the razor, spread a towel on the floor; because its still a truck stop shower, I’m not crazy…and I knelt.

And I bowed my head before I spoke to the God of us all.

I bent my head in reverance to the celestial being that allows us to exist despite being a horrendous horde of ungrateful, destructive pieces of crap that occassionally celebrate a good deed WHEN IT SHOULD BE A NORMAL UNCELEBRATED THING TO DO A GOOD DEED AND LOVE ONE ANOTHER, LIKE WE WERE SUPPOSED TO FROM THE FREAKING BEGINNING!!!!!

“Dear Heavenly Father’ I said

“I thank you for everything that you have given, have taken away and for prayers that have been and have not been answered, thy will be done.

(OK, I got the initial disclaimer stuff out of the way.

I picture God sitting on a cloud somewhere looking at his fingernails making the “Come on, come on, I don’t have all day” hand motion.

Even though I know he has forever but, hey….

I am only a man.

One of billions…..but there you go.

Well, this man (meaning me) talks to God as if though God were a man.

“I am sorry I say the same thing over and over but, I don’t mean to but, you already know this”

‘I just find it hard to get into myself and tell you things I know you already know, seems redundant and unecessary”

*sigh*

“Is it a confession you want or am I’m doing this wrong? Why am I telling you things you already know? Why am I confessing things to you when you already know them? Does it make a difference on judgement day?”

Is it for forms sake?

*smh*

[*Heres where I slip back into repetetive dribble, which the bible expressly frowns upon]

“I thank you for my wife and kids, please protect them and help them to make good decisions and be good people and do nice things”

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“I thank you for my job and I thank you for being reasonably healthy”

[Hesitation here because I realize that God has heard this all before, again.]

Blah blah blah…

It just became personal.

“I don’t know what you want me to say, Lord”

[Here I look up at the ceiling, clasping my fingers tighter; I’m getting frustrated]

“What am I supposed to say, that I’m sorry, over and over?!”

How long do I have to apologize for being human!?

That I’m a piece of crap and I can’t do anything right and I’m sick and tired of everything?!

What am I supposed to say to you, when you know everything I’m saying or thinking and I still don’t hear poop from you, or at least I don’t think you’re saying anything back !?

[I stand up, turn my back to the steamy mirror, looking at another part of the ceiling; I throw my hands up but don’t say anything, I’m too old for this mess!!!]

[Moments reflection]

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[I turn back to the towel on the floor, kneel back down, slowly shaking my head]

This is stupid….

“Thank you, Lord, for everything.

I’m doing a lot better than most and everythings not too bad.”

“I’m still a little nervous about thy will be done because I hate surprises but, I know, well, I HOPE that you have plans for me, regardless of what they are.”

“I’m sorry that I’ve been an a-hole lately and been kind of a pill to the Honey Biscuit and messing up her month with my OCD crap but, I try not to let my moods show too much.”

*sigh*

“The cool part about you is that you are the only one that truly knows me.

AND despite what others have witnessed and drawn their conclusions from, some well founded I must admit; you know that I am a good man, with a good heart that only wants super powers so I can save the world.”

“I know I’ve screwed up sometimes. Thank God for repentance; oh, I meant thank you”

*ironic chuckle* He knows what I meant.

Silly rabbit.

“I’m sorry, you know how I get.

” Thanks again for letting me live this long even though I’ve almost killed myself several times and oh, btw, I have no idea why you let me live this long.

To see what I’ll do next probably….

That’s just, mean.

“Thanks for letting me see the things I’ve seen, meeting the people I’ve met and letting me believe that I ain’t as bad as I tell myself that I am”

“Dear Father”

“Help make me a better man. Help me do something to make a difference. Help me to be more patient and a loving Husband and Father. Help me to be a gooder man.”

“Dear Heavenly Father”

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“Help me to be more humble and long suffering.”

[This is when I realize I’m being all biblical sounding, again]

repetition….breeds scripture abuse.

[I lower my now dry forehead to my clasp hands and squeeze my fingers harder, really serious part coming up]

“Father”

“Help me be the man we know I can be, thy will be done. I trust you”

“In the name of your son, Jesus Christ…….Amen”

[I stand and turn back to the mirror which is steamy again because the shower is still going and the faucet is running full blast….]

[I wipe a clear spot on the mirror and look at myself]

I hear the still small voice again…..

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“Peace, Trey.”

I talked To God today, in a truck stop shower and he answered me….

Oh, From me and God…

Be real.

Relieved To Not Know

Crazy people don’t know that they’re crazy.

But, what if I SUSPECT that I’m crazy?

What if I’m Suspicious; nay, DUBIOUS of the voices in my head telling me that I MAY be crazy or that I’m crazy to think I’m crazy….?

What if I can’t trust myself, because I know me; I know how I can be. I know how many times I’ve let myself down…

I’m the kind of friend to myself that I love but can’t really trust completely or count on in a crisis.

They/me always lose their/my s*** in terse situations…

Fold like a lawn chair.

But, I keep on forgiving me…even after all the times I’ve let me down. Because, I know, deep down, that I love me in my own special way but, I know that I’m crazy sooo…

I get a pass….

I mean, I’m pretty sure I love me but, I also know that when times get tough, sometimes I’ll disappear or blow things off as not disastrous as initially thought and I’ll lie to me if my butt is on the line or think I’ll get mad at myself.

But, what if I AM crazy?

What if I’m really no friend to myself at all?

What if I’ve just been using myself?!

What if ignorance really IS bliss?

Does that mean that since I am a “naturally” happy, vivacious, fun-loving, morning, midday, afternoon, all-day person that I’m really just overly ignorant living in this utter bliss, bathed in crazy?

What if I am normal?

What if….I’m. Normal?

Oh. My. Heck.

What if….

I am normal crazy?!

What if, all the talking in my head, the anxieties, the mini-disaster movies playing thru my mind, ALL OF THE CRAZY that I am CONVINCED that I am, is really….just in my head….?

What If….

All the definitions and nuances that the world accepts as standards to be considered “CRAZY” were invented by a “normal crazy” person?

But, we all know that there are no normal people.

So, HOW THE HECK DO I KNOW IF I’M CRAZY OR NORMAL!?

Jesus was the only perfect person that I am aware of but, he was too nice & loving to tell anyone that they were crazy!! Remember the guy and the swine?! Jesus didn’t tell people they were crazy, he just heals them.

How can anyone tell me that I’m normal?

I can believe it when they tell me I’m crazy because of the adage “Takes one, to know one”

“I can smell your crazy”

*shudder*

What if I’ve been normal this whole time?

What if I’ve never actually been crazy!?

WHAT IF I HAVE REACTED TO EVERY DISASTROUS SITUATION IN A NORMAL, FULLY FUNCTIONAL WAY!!?

What if…?

If I’m not crazy, I’m gonna be PISSED.

Without my crazy, I will have absolutely no excuses for my behavior, to fall back on.

Crazy, you complete me.

I need my crazy; it’s so obvious.

But, what if I’m really really the only normal person that has ever existed; other than Jesus, I mean?

I wonder if Jesus had his crazy moments…?

What if Jesus….wondered if HE was crazy? Hearing heavenly, ethereal voices, seeing angels, talking to dead people…?

….thinking he is the son of God….

How crazy is that, he’d think.

What. If. When Jesus found out he was perfect, but KNEW he didn’t FEEL perfect, totally convinced that he was NOT PERFECT.

What if Jesus worried about stuff…?

Do you think Joseph Smith thought he was crazy? Himself, I mean?

Would I think I’m crazy, if I had a prayer answered by God & Jesus, in person?

Or would I know that I wasn’t crazy because, it was real?

I’m sure God would let me know that this wasn’t crazy town, that it was actually him…

But you can’t trust crazy, can we?

Can you POSSIBLY imagine what a 14 yr old Joseph Smith was thinking when he walked out of that Grove of trees behind his small house, known what he now knew? Looking at his home, his dad in the adjacent field, the chickens in the yard, his mother looking out of the back door, with a look on her face, wondering why he was in the woods; the clothes drying on the line, slowly moving in the breeze.

Did that just happen, he’d have thought?

Normal thought right?

Or, is it?

Am I crazy?

How do I know?

They say that God talks to people all of the time but, other people always tell them that they’re crazy.

What if God is the voice in my head telling me that I’m NOT crazy?

That I’m only normal crazy?

I hate being normal.

It’s so obvious, now.

Crazy to think so.

Only This, Again.

I will never be what I imagined or dreamed of….

I will never know everything.

I will never touch the moon.

I will not live forever and I still can’t accept this fact or believe it, honestly; even after my body has started to betray me by falling apart.

I have been a hypocrite, an idiot, a thief, a liar, spiteful, condescending, bigoted, biased, cruel, racist, a disappointment AND occasional colossal failure.

I have also been kind, loving, forgiving, patient, courteous, courageous, giving, a joy to be around and an occasionally successful with a task.

I’m just a regular guy, with a regular life, facing normal challenges and inopportune fiascos; doing the best I can, as I can.

I realize that I have unlimited, untapped potential that I know I will NEVER have TIME, in my life, to explore or achieve.

But, I am here, now.

A little sad today, but not too bad…

I’ve learned over the years how to keep those monsters at bay.

Just don’t feed them…

I don’t listen to my mind very much or at least I don’t take its first thoughts seriously…

It’s kinda ignorant…really.

I listen to my heart a little more in my older years but, I know it’s naive to a fault, still….after all it’s put me through.

So, I balance them out, best I can.

I’m just a simple man with regrets and future dreams in the same head & heart I started out with.

A little bruised & dented but, we’re still OK….

It’s not bad to not be perfect.

It’s the effort that counts.

My one saving grace is that I continue to effort the hell out of it.

2nd Resteps…

This week I am anti-religion and I left my wife.

Plus, I ate a piece of white bread despite my dubious diabetes diagnosis…

And, its only Wednesday.

The First, Real Step…

Over and over, throughout my life I have “started” again.

Tomorrow is the first day of my life; so it goes.

I am tired of starting over.

I am tired of failing in things that I believe are important but seems to turn out, not important enough for me to follow thru on.

Lets bring us all up to date, shall I?

I joined the LDS church when I was 1 month shy of my 20th birthday.

I have been battling with it ever since.

I am now, 54.

35 freaking years….

I have had my “stalwart” phases and my “apostate” phases.

I have been diligent in tithing, the Word of Wisdom, temple recommends, church callings…etc., and so forth.

At times.

And….I am an alcoholic; well, a dormant alcoholic.

I’m no where as bad or prolific as I once was….and in the words of my childhood evangelical baptist upbringing “THANK YA JESUS, CAN I GET AN AMEN?”

I have denied the existence of God.

I have reasoned out the impossibility of Christ actually being the really real son of God.

I have thought Joseph Smith was deceived by either demons or aliens during the First Vision.

I have also stood in the Sacred Grove and cried like a baby.

Unworthy in the Sacred Grove

That was just last year…..smh.

It is always a battle and I am tired of it.

Why can’t I submit or make a decision or whatever….shit or get off the pot?

Why can’t I be what I want to be….?

I want to be what I believe worthy should be.

But, my main problem is; is that I’m weak.

I have no concept of how people can live their entire lives as a devout and shining example of what a Christlike person should be.

Blows my mind.

Not just LDS…any faith for that matter….

There are devout followers of all kinds of Gods around the world.

It doesn’t matter to me what a person believes as long as it makes them happy; doesn’t hurt, persecute, discriminate or wrongly deceive the ignorant and/or innocent.

I just choose to believe in the Christian ideal and I believe in what the LDS church teaches.

I do not care if you agree with me but, I want you to understand me.

Love me for who I am.

See, I can stand on a soap box, just fine.

I can also drink myself into a stupor and deny God.

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I haven’t drank for a long time but, I think about it everyday.

I haven’t been to church in a long time but, I think about it everyday.

I can’t tell you how many times I’ve quit wearing my garments (mythical Mormon underwear) because I either didn’t feel worthy at the time or I thought they were stupid….

I can’t tell you how many times I have put all of my church stuff in storage; my Book of Mormon, my Bible, My records…patriarchal blessing, blah blah blah…..for the same reasons as above.

I got tired of looking at them.

They got on my nerves.

Always laying around, judging me.

But, inexplicably, I have not or will not throw them away.

For some reason, I keep them and I don’t know why.

Because I know I’ll go back to being…..worthy?

That I’ll keep fruitlessly, at least in my mind, attempting to be the LDS man that I want to be?

You know what?

My wife isn’t even LDS.

She’s Pentecostal.

Her dad was a preacher in that church and she absolutely does not believe in what I believe and that’s cool with me.

I do not care if she believes me.

I never give it a thought what she believes; not once. I could honestly care less.

I’m just glad she believes in God and likes me regardless of my membership in an evil “cult”….smh

I fight and fight and fight.

As you can tell I use this blog as a way to work thru stuff and I continuously keep trying and trying to……convince myself? Probably like a lot of you reading this.

So dang frustrating, I swear.

Well, I’m gonna cut this short because I’m kind of at work and I keep drifting into deeper thought (we LDS call this phenomenon “pondering”)

Deeper introspections to the point that I lose my chain of thought.

I have said this so many times in some of my earlier posts “Saints are sinners that never quit trying”

I feel like a failure, a terrible person.

I know that I try but not good or hard enough. I do not sacrifice.

I am the worst kind of “natural man”

I swear this is gonna drive me further insane.

I can see it now “Man dies from religious torment”

I may be going insane; they always say people start getting religiously delusional as they slip closer into the white jacket with 8′ sleeves that tie in the back club

Back to, the cutting it short thing….

Battle, battle, battle.

I’m gonna keep on trying, I guess.

There is something to this or else I would have totally blown it off YEARS AGO.

This is the only thing in my life that has lingered or kept my interests for so long.

I know this because I’m slightly narcissistic and self absorbed..I lose interest VERY QUICKLY.

Anywho, thx for reading.

I’m sorry I said a dirty word but, it’s only a word.

I’ll write more, I swear.

“I am a traveler that will not stay on the path”

So Simply

Here is my blog entry for today.

I began crying, listening to classical music.

I finally saw it.

I saw the layers.

I was the layers.

I stepped into it.

It washed around me, and I cried.

I cried, listening to classical music.

This has never happened to me.

I can’t believe it. I’m a big stinky truck driver.

Carmina Burana, O Fortuna…..

Thank You.

You are beautiful

Today is another day of discovery.

Never too old.

Realization

Thought about this last night.

Popped right into my head…

Never mind all of the stuff that’s already in my head; there’s always room for more crazy.

There’s always room for more crazy; like Jell-o or ice cream.

I love Jell-o. Crazy, not so much.

At least I call it crazy.

It could be normal, or crazy.

Isn’t the human mind amazing with all the stuff it can do?

All of the information it can process or forget?

All of the useful things….or Facebook…..Snapchat….Twitter…..

Sometimes I sit there going “C’mon THINK!”

Most times I’m like “I wish my freaking brain would just stop!”

Ok, I’m getting off track from my original thoughts that are the basis for todays blog.

Here’s what popped into my brain @ 0215….

I will die not knowing everything.

If I sat here, or if you sat where you’re at, run a diagnostic on your brains hard drive and create a pie chart of how your brain utilizes or categorizes info.

It is sadly amazing how much I don’t know.

Hmmm….I actually have no idea how much I don’t know.

Although, it seems like the older I get the more “Eureka” moments I have concerning trivial stuff.

“Why have I just figured this out?”

I’m an idiot, I swear.

Like these little “life hacks” or “kitchen hacks” I see on Facebook that leave me slack jawed in utter amazement, wallowing in self loathing, awash in shame.

How do people figure this crap out!?

I know nothing about rocket science.

I know nothing about why I’m scared of the dark.

I know nothing except what I have heard, seen, tasted, felt, smelled or been told by others.

Problem is, the senses…..I can pretty much count on being truthful

“Fire HOT!”

“Woman crazy!”

The basic knowledges…..

Learning stuff from people, I’d say less than 50% accurate.

If they taught me things that doesn’t include their opinions or bias’, the percentage would go up exponentially, I believe.

We know enough to get thru life. Simple Simon….

Here’s a thought; We get old enough to make babies, then get older to teach babies until they get old enough to make their own babies. That’s it.

At a certain point, what purpose do we serve?

As we get older, our bodies and minds start to wind down; this we know.

OMG, I’m never gonna know everything, am I?

How cruel it is to create something, give it a brain that is capable of magic and put a limit on what it can do or learn?

There has to be a reason….

There has to be some kind of reason that we can’t know everything.

I wonder what the world was like when there was no highways, cities, power lines, cars, planes….stuff like that?

All we were concerned about was survival. that’s all we HAD to know.

Hunter, gatherers.

From my viewpoint, it was probably terrifying back then.

But, if we think about it; it may have been much much more quiet in our heads.

I mean, what do you think is in your head right now that has to do with your actual survival compared to back then?

Now, how much isn’t there?

Next time you’re standing in a Walmart or a grocery store, think about digging up a root for dinner or making a cloth out of an animals skin.

Think about discovering how to make fire; on purpose.

Think about discovering how to make a bow & arrow, just the fact that WHY you NEED a bow & arrow in the first place.

What in our brains, is necessary?

If we had the ability to clean the junk files or cookies from our brains, how much disk space would we get back and how much faster could we process info?

I know people have drawn these comparisons before but, it popped into my head this morning and I felt like blogging it out loud.

I’m sad that I won’t know everything before I die.

At least I know that much….

But, I know more today than I did yesterday.

But…..how much info am I losing compared to my gains?

Crap…

I’m gonna stop talking now.

I’m a crazy person. Ignore me.

Day 2 In Yuma

The title to this days blog kinda sounds like a western novel or movie or something, don’t it?

Uh oh, wayward tangent alert!

Here’s some more “titles” (while I’m increasing my caffeine levels) Yes, I know…I’m a terrible Mormon.

“The Watch” A fast paced movie about minute to minute time travel.

“Coffee Man” A novel about love and survival

“Loading….” A sci-fi mystery about patience and murder.

“Potty Break” Action “packed” cinematic dynamite, edge of your “seat”, “explosive” thriller about letting go…

Ok, I’m gonna stop now, I can see where this is going.

Speaking of potty break…..

BRB

Ok, I’m back. The Potty Break movie had a weak “ending”…..no real substance.

Ok Ok, I’ll stop!

What has gotten in to me so early this Tuesday morning!?

It IS Tuesday, right?

I don’t know what day it is. My phone is off….and I don’t know how to find it on my baby iPad.

Ok, I just figured out that my gps knows what day it is.

It’s Monday Jr?

WTH?!

That can’t be right.

Wayward tangent alert, again….

I just realized that I’ll probably never hold a leadership position in my church because I “may” have used inappropriate language in MANY of my previous blogs.

I kinda cuss when I’m being all emotional and creative….

In my defense, and y’all know this just as much, if not more than me…

Sometimes a dirty word is the only word that can work in certain instances. It takes one to get the EXACT point across: to match the flow of our literary intent….

Or, we (I) couldn’t think of a better word.

In my defense, I only have 33 credit hrs of college. In Texas….

Lets go with the creative juices thing….

Yeah, I’m a Cro-Magnon.

Sometimes I say bad words, think bad things, contemplate mass murder…or is it spree murder?

Hey, you try being a truck driver that goes all over this country, thru tiny towns and big cities and tell me that you don’t feel like running someone off the road!

Good thing is that I can keep fantasy, fantasy. Realistically, speaking….

It’s much more cool in my head; the fantasy part.

I could never kill in real life with the same satisfaction or special effects that I do in my head.

In fantasy dream mode (ok, pretend you’re seeing that daydream thing like they do on tv, with the wavy screen)

Ok, in dream mode, when I kill someone on the interstate (99% of the time its a 4 wheeler; car) there’s lots of screaming, rubber squealing and smoke, metal screeching & crunching, glass shattering and the smell of poop. Oh, and there’s always lots of fire & smoke, blood, guts, people flying thru windshields, the satisfying crunch as my 18 wheeler smashes thru their wrecking cars and over their pavement strewn bodies…..

*shudder in ecstasy*

It puts the lotion on it’s skin….

Thank the holy moly, but in real life, the whole “You’ll not do well in prison” filter keeps me sane.

Plus, I’d probably feel bad later.

Hold up, let me tell Jesus I’m sorry for murder in my heart.

This is my Granny’s fault; all this caring about people and crap.

Social norms…..Not killing fools.

EMPATHY for heck sakes.

Crazy old lady.

She’s the one that took me to church, taught me about Jesus, God and the Holy Ghost!

More importantly, the whole burning in hell thing if I run over people on the interstate, or undress pretty women in my head.

I’d marry them! Don’t be so quick to judge!

I’m a softie but HEY! At least I’m not a sociopath or psychopath , huh?!

That’s good news on this early Monday Jr!

Ok, I gotta go pick up some vegetables and start rolling towards F’n Jersey.

Y’all have an excellent Monday Jr.

TTYT

The Dying Rain

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The rain began to patter on the window that looked out over my best friend’s small garden.

I was holding her frail hand, the one with her “green thumb”.

I smile at this…

She always giggled when she told me that she could kill a plastic plant…

I’ve seen it happen.

But now her eyes were closed, her breath labored.

….. today was a good day for her, considering everything….

She may have been asleep but, her fingers gripped mine as hard as she could squeeze.

I could barely tell I was holding her hand at all, as weak as she was.

It’s so painful, beyond belief really, to try and imagine strength draining away from the strongest person you have ever known.

….like sand in an hourglass.

I laced my fingers thru hers, gripping them a little harder, tracing the veins on the back of her hand with my other fingers.

I can’t believe I’m losing her….

My bestest friend in the whole world is dying………Dying!

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She did it to herself…. 

[RUMBLE]

I can hear the thunder in the distance, the rain coming and going, the branches of the trees scraping lightly across the panes of glass

In the storm graying light of the small bedroom I turn back into time to think of our lives together.

I have done this more than usual lately….

Six months…..seems like yesterday. 

Too fast…

…..Way too damn fast.

Doesn’t it seem weird that when you are about to lose someone close to your heart, a piece of your very soul, that we start to reflect on our memories of them more, as if though trying to burn them deeper into our hearts and minds….

It’s as if though we are afraid that we might forget something important….forget them?

I remember when she was sober. 

I look at her face as she sleeps….

She’s so beautiful……..even now.

My flower is fading….

rain7

The sun is leaving her eyes.

The rain reminds me that I must not cry……

Cloud tears trickle down, the beads of sky diamonds ornament her window…..

I won’t weep…..she did it to herself; selfish bitch. 

I’m not going to cry…not now at least. 

She gets upset when I cry.

I sit there, holding my friends tiny hand, staring out the jeweled window as the storm drums the shutters.

The lightning is bright, the thunder is closer….the rain, more insistent…..

I can smell the trees.

I begin the stroll down our memory lane; it isn’t raining here.

There is only laughter, joy and our high school prom.

There is only skinned knees, gum in our hair and boyfriends we shared

.rain4

[RUMBLE]

I am brought back from my breaking heart to the bedside when I feel her stir under the blankets….

The thunder moves her.

Her eyes are open and I follow my dying friends hooded gaze.

She’s looking out the window, watching the storm.

Shadows of the window panes, rain drops and lightning dance across her face…..

She is quiet….

Dying sober, thank God…. 

Oh so still…..

God? Where is God now? 

I notice a small tear is running down her pale cheek and across her dry lips…

She did it all to herself. 

I hate her. 

I reach up and wipe the tear away with my finger.

All of a sudden, I feel guilty that I’m alive.

She grabs my hand and presses it to her lips and then drops my hand with a tired sigh.

She turns her face toward me….dream9

I raise my finger to my lips and kiss what’s left of her tear….

She gives me that shy grin of hers and turns back to the storm.

“Will you do me a favor?” she asks in her beautiful, weak voice; the stormy sky reflecting in her dimming, pretty eyes.

“I don’t know” I say “I’m kinda busy” I grin.

 (I hate you for dying) 

She squeezes my hand again before turning to look at me, her gaze imploring.

“I’m serious” She says.

My face softens, I will not cry….

(You did this to yourself) 

“You bet” I whisper, both my hands pressing hers to show my promise.

I can’t squeeze her hand too hard…..

She lives very close to pain that I can’t imagine.

This could have been avoided.

So easy… 

She turns her face back toward the window as the rain dances across the roof, the thunder making the panes tremble….

She says “Think of me when it rains….”rain6

I cannot cry in front of her….

I will not….I won’t! 

My best friend in life is slipping away like a dream, like water thru my fingers….

“I hope it rains forever” I say….

Her eyes are closed now…

Her fingers relax in mine….

“It doesn’t hurt anymore…” she whispers.

I thank God for this small answer to my anguished prayers….and I curse him.

“No…don’t go…” I say

I feel like an asshole for being alive.

I never thought that would be the last thing she would hear from my lips.

No God….not her….

Not my friend…..

(I HATE YOU!) 

Take me instead, I’ll go. I’ll go right now!

She…..

She dropped my hand.

Her heart has finished its toil.

I can’t breathe….I gotta get out of here….I…….can’t…..breathe….Oh my God! Oh my God!!!

She has gone from me into the storm….

She lives where lightning is born….rain8

Our joined lives continue as memory….

I guess I can cry now….

But, I think it still upsets her…no matter.

 I will dance in the rain with the memory of my friend, and we will laugh…

I rejoice in the fact that as long as I live, she will be there with me.

SOBER

She will watch our children grow.

SOBER

She will watch our children become best friends.

SOBER

It is time for me to weep for my lovely…

I thank God for Heaven and eternal life….

Oh my God, why is it so hard to breathe when I think of her?

I can already hear her voice in my head…

“Cry baby”

I smile….

rain1

It’s true….

She’s here…..right now.

SOBER

She is alive in the thunder and rain.

I will think of her….

(Why….?) 

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