Tears

Once upon a time, a young girl suffered much grief and pain.

As a result of the pain, the tears inside of the little girl merely dried up.

And although the girl saw much hurt and despair, she was unable to cry.

It simply didn't happen.

She never pushed away the tears in an effort to be strong, or to seem in control,

The tears would simply never come.

People started noticing. Started whispering and wondering how cold-hearted she could be

To never grieve, to never simply do what other teenage girls did on a regular basis.

So she pretended. To cry.

And because she never cried, she felt ashamed.

Because she believed them when they called her heartless.

For six years, she cried only three times

Even though loved ones had passed away, life would hit unexpected turns, fights would break out, and exhaustion would set in

The girl never cried.

She would pray that tears could fall out of her eyes, wish that tears could stream down her cheeks, she would try and make herself squeeze out one measly teardrop.

They never came.

And the fact that she could never cry became her deepest secret. Because she was so ashamed of being inhuman.

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Yet, something happened this summer.

Life hit an all-time low.

Her body couldn't take anymore pain.

And her soul couldn't take anymore hurts

And in that beautiful moment, she learned to cry.

Not just once every two years like in previous years

But sometimes twice a week.

A few times, she even cried multiple times in one day.

And although she was tired, frustrated, and sad, there was an inexplicable joy.

One that came from knowing she was human.

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Tonight I cried.

It wasn't a sobbing, simply a few teardrops.

The reason wasn't a hard reason, I was simply overwhelmed by the goodness of God.

But I cried.

And I may never accomplish anything of importance in college,

I may never even remember college,

But years down the road I want to be able to look back & see that my greatest accomplishment

Was that I was able to overcome what I saw as my greatest flaw

And shed a tear.

So I guess we are who we are for a lot of reasons. And maybe we'll never know most of them. But even if we don't have the power to choose where we come from, we can still choose where we go from there. We can still do things. And we can try to feel okay about them. --The Perks of Being a Wallflower by Stephen Chbosky

Well, For The Record, I Was Wearing A Backpack

Scene: Sitting in a waiting room at the hospital waiting to get some blood drawn

Enter: A small boy around 3-4 years old

(He starts looking around and under the chair I'm sitting in.)

Boy: Oooots? Oooots?

Me: umm....

Enter: Boy's mother

Mother: "No honey, boots isn't here." (Picks up boy and walks back to her chair)

Moment of realization: He's looking for Boots the monkey and thinks that I'm Dora the Explorer.

Welcome to my life.

Remember Who You Wanted To Be...

"Remember Who You Wanted To Be"

It came from a bumper sticker that one of my professors saw while driving to work. In the midst of all the politician-bashing, religion-slandering, and honor roll bragging, this bumper sticker takes us back to nostalgia, back to Neverland where we could be pirates and Indians and Captain Hook would never win as long as Peter Pan was around.

I remember believing I could talk to animals.

I remember waiting anxiously for the day my superhero powers would come in.

I remember wanting to be a zookeeper, a CIA agent and Robin Hood combined when I grew up.

What did you want to be when you were little?

If you could do anything in the world, regardless of schooling and income, what would you do today?