I'm A Child of God

It's been a rough week. It's only Wednesday. It's been a rough month. It's only October 6th. But it's been rough. Dealing with deaths. People that I love so much, who were taken way too early in their lives. There's been financial stress. Family problems plague me daily. There are men that love me more than life itself. But I can't find a way to let them love me. Or a way to love them back. And it's me, trying to make it through the day.

Sometimes when I just want to give up so badly, God sends me some little message. A beautiful Goddaughter who is fighting for her life. A precious little girl who just wants a hug from her Nana. A friend that needs me to listen to them. Because he misses his wife and child that he'll never get to meet. Another friend who is trying to keep it together for her kids. And my best friend who just needs me to listen to her woes.

When I'm feeling really down, God has a way of getting the message to me. Be it an amazing lightening and rainstorm. Or the perfect phone call. I know that I'm loved. I know at the end of the day, I have friends who would risk their lives for me. That's how much they love me. The way family should love you. The kind of love that I feel is missing from my life.

God is amazing. He's awesome! I know that I talk down to myself. I'm sincerely hard on myself. I expect myself to never stumble, let alone fall. I don't take "No" for an answer. I work myself until I can't go anymore. I take on too many people's problems. And I want to fix them all. But I'm human. I'm one person. And even I can only do so much.

"But to all who have received him, those who believe in his name, he has given the right to become God’s children." ~John 1:12

I'm a Child of God. A God that loves me. He never falters, never fails. He accepts and loves me just the way I am. He loves me completely and without judging. Even with my faults. My God loves me, because I'm me. The only one out there that is like me. I'm strong to a fault. And when I hurt, it goes right to my core. My God loves me because of all these things. I'm unique. Created by him, and him alone. I'm a Child of His.

As I type this, I'm crying. The tears are overwhelming me. Because I know this to be the truth. My God will always love me. No matter what happens in my life. I can always turn to him. He sends me beautiful things, like flowers, and rainbows. He also sends me so much love. And sometimes, there is pain to work through. No one is perfect. And My God knows that. He still loves me. He knows the burdens I carry with me. And he loves me.

"Success consists of getting up, just one more time than you fall." ~Oliver Goldsmith

No matter how many times I fall, I know my God will love me. He's proven it time and time again. Jesus gave his life for you and me. For our sins and our failures. No matter what, they are here for us. In our darkest days, we're never alone. I know this. I know this personally.

I've been sent amazing people in my life. People who have filled HUGE voids in my life. Who have shaped the woman that I am today. People like Patrick. They never ask for anything at all. But they're always there to catch you when you fall. Amazing little girls like Sarita, who just want to love you. There is a God. I know this. And I'm his Child!

It's been a tough few months. Months that I've questioned certain things in my life. But never have I had to question my faith and religion. But it's been a tough time in my life. Time when I've been unsure of what is coming. But I know I always have my God to turn to. I'm going to live a better life. For him. My obstacles in the road, they're not a "Road Block." Instead, I see them as a "Detour." I will always get up one more time than I fall. Because my God has made it possible.

I woke up this morning. It was so quiet. The air was crisp and clean. A new beginning. As if the rain has washed away all the hurt, pain, and misery. I look at today as a new beginning. I might have to change my "Life Path" a bit. Make some adjustments for what's coming next. But as long as I keep My God close, I will make it out of this darkness.



There is a God. And he loves me. I'm a Child of God. When the world becomes to heavy, he carries me along. Until I'm strong enough to do his work. I believe. My God makes all things possible! ♥

Crossing a Line

I know that I probably went too far with my Dad today. I know it. But I'm suffocating in my own body. Just trying to make it through the day. Literally, I feel like someone is trying to kill me from inside my body. And today, the fight with my Dad, was the last thing I needed.

Did I cross a line? I think I might have. But this is me. Carrying all of this. Not just what is happening right now, in the here and now. But the stuff from my past. The stuff that I'm working through in my counseling and therapy. This stuff, it would KILL my Dad if he knew. My parents wouldn't be able to deal with these facts. So I don't tell them. I carry them. And the only person that I really ever talked to about it, well he's in heaven now. Patrick left this world with my secrets. The things that weigh so heavily on my life, heart, and soul.

I did tell my Dad that I wished I'd die. Die right there. Because maybe then, I wouldn't be such a burden for him. Did I tell him I wished a semi truck would hit me on the road? Yes. And it was also me that said, maybe some weirdo will kill me in the night, in my hotel room. I said these things. Because it seems like I'm a burden to people. To the people I love. That I only bring misery and stress.

If I died today, no one would have to pay anything. I decided a while back, I would donate my body to science. That way someone would learn something. And my family wouldn't have to worry about the expense of my death. It's all in my Will. Just a way for me to deal with it. I have no bills, beyond school. So it wouldn't be a financial burden. The only kind that really bothers my Dad.

My brother hates the fact that I go to my parents' house. The other day, he told me why do I have to come so often. Why am I there? Literally, I sleep the night, and I'm gone in the morning, to the next town to work! But it bothers him. In his words, "I ruin his entire week!" What would Dad have to say about that?

I know it bugs my Dad that I haven't graduated. But again, I'm trying. I work hard. I get good grades. But financially, I can't keep up. So I'm a burden, a failure, and just a bundle of stress to him.

So I told my Dad, that I wished God would just take me. Take me anyway that he needed to. Be it in a car accident, a murder, a massive heart attack, in my sleep, a shooting...whatever means necessary. Because I feel like then, I wouldn't have such a negative effect on people's lives. You know what I mean?

Tonight, Dr. B told me just what she thinks of me. In the middle of a meeting with my professors, who I'm supposed to be teaching with this week, she told me I'm nothing but a failure. I'm never going to make it. I'm just causing her stress, and she doesn't need me on her team for the week. There you go.

I disappoint everyone. My professors, my supervisors, my parents, my family, my friends, the people I work with, and Dean C. But I'm only one person. Trying to do it all. Maybe if I died, it would improve the life of others. It's not that I want to die. But it seems the only way to make people happy.

A penny for my thoughts? Maybe then, people would listen to me. Really hear what I'm saying. See that I'm not as strong as I appear. That I'm just human. Holding it together, the best way I know how to. No need for tears. Because I've had a pretty good life. No matter what tomorrow brings, I've done the best that I could. ♥

My Only Constant...Money Problems

It's been 1 month. One very long month. After Labor Day, I found out that Dean C and Dr. S had changed my schedule. They didn't tell me. They just did it. They wanted me to take all these classes and to do my internship. It didn't matter that I couldn't afford it. Or that I was already registered and taking 2 classes. They made the change. And by the time I found out, I couldn't change my schedule back.

No one ever listens to me. It's not that I wanted to just leave. My internship had become my entire life. And living a life as lonely and sad as mine, it was the only light in my life. The only thing that made me smile. It made me happy. I was doing something amazing. Helping innocent babies grow strong. Saving lives. It gave me hope. And to be honest, it was my only reason to get out of bed in the mornings.

But with the growing costs, and less and less gigs, I had no options. Do you want me to tell you the truth? I'm still paying J for money he lent me for the 2010 Spring semester. I know he doesn't mind. In fact, he's told me time after time, to just wait until I graduate. He doesn't need the money. Heck, maybe one day we can break even. I can be his kiddos' doctor. To be honest, I think he's hoping I'll just tell him yes one day...

All of that makes me uncomfortable. So I work. I sign over my checks to him. Every payday, I just sign my check and leave it on his desk. And anytime I have extra money, he gets it. I'm so determined to pay him as soon as possible. I know that my friend loves me. And I know that he would do anything for me. But I don't want him to think, that I use him for money. First and foremost, he's my best friend.

I also don't want to go down the route of Student Loans. Not yet anyway. I know, one day I might have to. Heck, I know when I get to Medical School, I'm going to have to. So I don't want to do it now. But that means, there are sacrifices to be made along the way.

So where am I going with all of this? It's been a tough month. I've tried to figure out ways to pay for school. I've looked at upcoming gigs. And how much money I'm going to make. I've thought about asking J to lend me more money. I've thought about leaving school for a semester. I was offered an amazing job with the Border Patrol. But I couldn't take it. Why? Because as an intern, I'm required to work 100-120 hours a week! And I have to be ready to travel at the drop of a hat. So with the internship, I couldn't work at the Border Patrol.

That leaves me with over $15,000 to pay by December. Half of which is due Friday. I've borrowed $3500 from J for books. Dr. S paid my insurance. Which is another $3,500. You know, he's half at fault for this. My other friend, Dr. M, he paid for my scrubs. I'm still left with almost $8,000 to pay. I've paid over $1,000 in tuition. Thus far, I think that's good. I've done it on my own. And I have a balloon payment due on Friday. $3,500 for my internship. And the difference in my tuition. I have to at least have $1,750 paid.

It's midterm. And I don't know where to turn. I've carried all of this. Just like ever other semester. I've carried this burden, this stress. I didn't want to be here. That's why I was only enrolled in 2 classes. I knew I couldn't do it. I have no support. No one to lean on. No one to talk to. I could handle 2 classes and $800. I didn't even buy the books for those classes. That's how tight money is. But this...$15,000, an internship, and 28 credits...I can't handle this anymore.

This is about the time I'd call Patrick for advice. Just wanting to hear his thoughts. Asking for advice. I'd never ask my parents for help. They have a business to run. It's bad enough that everyone else in the family uses them for money. I'm determined to stand on my own two feet. But I don't have Patrick to call. I have no one to lean on. It's just me. Alone, scared, stressed, worried, and falling apart. No one to talk to. No one to listen to me. To really sit down and listen to what I have to say.

Sunday, Dr. S yelled at me for at least 2 hours. Trying to talk me out of this. Come on. $3,500 isn't going to fall from the sky. I don't have any money! I work and work and work some more. I'm just not making the money. And then, Monday night we talked on the phone. I told him there was no way I could do this...

So this morning, I was supposed to work with him. At the hospital in my hometown. I came last night. My Dad was bugged. Not in any kind of mood to talk. This is why I don't talk to him about these things. Because he gets so mad. So I didn't say anything. I couldn't sleep last night. And after that horrible conversation with Dr. S, I knew it was over. I knew all the things I had worked so hard for and sacrificed for, they're over.

I'm only one person. I can only do so much. I can only carry so much weight. I've been carrying the weight of the world since I was little. Trying to make peace within my family. Taking everything that my siblings have to dish out. Being the peace maker for my parents. Being strong. Holding my family together. Keeping people happy. Being everything that everyone needs and wants me to be.

Today, I was leaving. Heading south. For my 4 hour road trip, to work. And as I was leaving, my Dad knew something was wrong. And as I tried to calming explain it, he blew up. This man, my father, the person I'm supposed to turn to when life is falling apart, he just blew up. He doesn't understand. I doubt that he ever will...

All of a sudden he wants to run in and save the day. Write a check for $200. And that's supposed to fix this. Come on. And he blamed me for it all. Let's be real here. He knew I was having trouble. He knows how much it costs me to go to school. He doesn't ever want to talk. You know, because of my brother. I'm pretty much at midterm. And last week was the first time he offered me money. $250. I'm grateful. But in the grand scheme of things, it doesn't make much difference.

So when he's yelling at me, I just have to sit and think. Does he get it? NO! I'm drowning here. And he's on the sidelines watching. Criticizing everything I'm doing. But he's not willing to walk a day in my shoes. I'm trying. There's not a single thing I can do. I mean, you can go to my house right now. There is nothing in my refrigerator. I have a few cans of food in the cabinet. I don't go shopping. I can't tell you the last time I went out to lunch with friends. I don't do anything.

I sincerely have no money. Besides the $250 my parents gave me last week, which I'm using to make a payment for school this week, I have $25 in my bank account. $25 people! Yes, we go on trips for gigs. I do what I have to. I go to the rehearsals, the performances, and whatever else appearances we have to make. Then I spend the rest of my time, in my room. Because I most certainly can't afford a meal in Las Vegas. Heck, I can't even afford to stop at Taco Bell, when we're playing gigs near home!

It's that bad. And all I can ever get from my Dad is negativity. He doesn't get it. I don't want his money. But I do want some support. Some compassion. For once in my life, I want him to tell me that he loves me and that he's proud of me. That's it.

I look at the things I do in life, I do them because I want him, to be proud of me. That's it. I've given up men that I love, a career in music, and even my happiness. But it's never enough. I fear that even when I become a doctor, it's not going to be enough. How much more do I have to do? I go without eating and sleeping. I'm trying to get myself through school. I just feel like I always come up short with my Dad. That my Mom and me will never matter. No matter what we do. ♥

12

That's the number of times I've been proposed to. The honest proposals. The ones that count. Not the ones from fans, as we put on a show.

12. It seems like a HUGE number. There were 6 men. And I'm the "Forever Single Woman." How does this happen? How does a woman like me, get proposed to 12 times? And how am I still single?

Let's start with the conversation that my Mom and I had tonight. We were talking about life things. Things that are burdening my heart and soul. We were talking about life. And family. And out of the blue, she asked me, what I would do if someone proposed to me. When I told her that someone had, she about died. I just told her, I wasn't ready yet. That's all I said.

But the truth of the matter is this, 6 men have asked me, a total of 12 times. Will #13 be the lucky number? Will I continue to run? Do I have a problem to work through?

12 times you ask? What happened? Sanchoncito...he asked me to marry him 4 times! Oh, and I didn't count that time we ALMOST got married in Sin City...

Sanchoncito asked me to marry him, the first time, after he landed his first big job. Before he moved. I didn't want to hold him back. So I let him go. It broke my heart. But it was the right thing to do. He asked me again, right before my Uncle Al died. I remember it clearly. We had just finished a big concert. The 2 of us were sitting by the pool. He wanted nothing more than for me to become his wife. And to move to Florida to be with him. But life happened. The 3rd time was the night of Linda and Gabe's wedding. I think he was caught up in the "Magic" of the night. And the 4th time came right before he left for Mexico.

I loved him so much. Heck, I know that I still love him. But our lives have just never been at the same place, at the same time. It just never worked out. Although, I have to say, the rings have gotten better every time he's asked. ;)

Then there was J. He asked me 3 times. During the ups and downs of our friendship, I've always known that he's loved me. I just knew. From the moment that we met. And he's always been here for me. 3 times, he asked me to be his wife. He wants to take care of me. He wants to be the man that I love. He wants a family. And he wants nothing more than to love me, full heartily. Body and soul, he wants us to be one.

3 times, in that gorgeous Southern accent, he's asked me to be his wife, the mother of his children, his partner in life. 3 times, I stared into his gorgeous green eyes. Trying to come up with a reason to not marry him. And nothing came to mind. Not a thing! But it always ended the same. With me saying no. With me walking silently away, tears streaming down my cheeks, and me driving away. I didn't have a reason to NOT marry him. But I didn't know how to say yes either.

Twice my boss, "Daddy Warbucks" has asked me to marry him. Twice! The "Billionaire Extraordinaire" from my hometown, has asked me to be his bride. He told me that he loved me. He didn't know how or when it happened. Only that it had happened. Yes, he asked 2 times. At the top of his world. Overlooking the beautiful city, where he lives. Two times, I had to tell him, he was in love with the idea of being married. Not with the woman-child that was standing in front of him.

Once Albert asked me. I'm not sure what prompted it. I don't know where the feelings were coming from. Or if things had changed between us. But he asked. A beautiful antique ring in hand. He got down on one knee, and asked me to love him forever. I was stunned! I didn't know what to say. I made him stand up. And gently told him that we needed time to think about this. I honestly didn't know what to say.

Omar asked once too. I think he was just feeling lonely. At a time in my life, when I was also lonely. And it could have been so easy to have said yes. To have told him yes. But I thought better of my answer. I thought about the emotional state he was in. And I gently told him no. Because I know he is still not ready for that step in his life.

And once, a man completely took me by surprise. Mr. "Blue Eyes." I went out East to work. The band went to work. I had known my boss and friend for over 2 years at this point. We had become close friends. We talked a lot. We didn't see a lot of each other. Because we live a mere 1745 miles from one another.

But during our last trip, as a band, to the East, I was shocked. One night that we were there, everyone was asleep. Of course, I couldn't sleep. And I didn't want to wake up my best friend. Or anyone else in the house. So I went outside. I sat on the porch. And just looked out into the darkness. Mr. "Blue Eyes" was also awake. On the opposite side of the house. And when he heard his dog, he came to investigate.

Before I knew it, we were driving to another part of his property. In the middle of the night. In our PJs. We ended up at a beautiful clearing. So beautiful! The moon was shining just perfectly. And it was so incredibly quiet and peaceful. The 2 of us stood there looking around us. We were in the middle of nowhere. But it was perfect!

He started to tell me all these things. About how much he loved me. About how he could see us having a future together. How this was the spot that he wanted to build his "Forever Home" one day. The day that he found "The One," and they began their life together. This was the place were he wanted to build his future and his family. He pulled out the most incredibly ring I've ever seen in my life. Ever! Sparkling in the moonlight. He got down on one knee and asked me to be his "Forever."

I was honestly stunned. Without words. I didn't know what to do. Or what to say. We'd never dated. Yes, we'd spent time together. We had talked a lot. We had become amazing friends. But beyond that, I just didn't have anything to go on. I mean, how could I move across the country, for this man? Did he really love me? Did I love him? Could we spend our lives together?

I sank to my knees. So we could be face to face. I held his face in my hands. I said nothing. I just held his face. Our foreheads pressed against each others. The tears spilling from my eyes. I just knew, it wasn't right at this time. I never said a thing. I just stared into his eyes.

There you go. 6 amazing men. 12 incredible times. Me? I'm still single. Ridiculously, almost painfully, single. I'm not sure. How does this happen? Am I the problem in every situation? Why do men feel the need to ask me this incredible question? Out of these men, I've only ever dated one. Funny thing, Sanchoncito and I were never dating during the 4 proposals. Or the one "Almost Wedding."

Maybe I was meant to be "Forever Single." Or maybe I haven't met "The One." Maybe I just needed some time to "Find Myself." I'm finally feeling more "Complete and Whole." You know, as a person. Maybe this is what I needed. Some time to grow and become the woman I was meant to be. I just hope, that now, there is a man willing to ask me those four simple words. ♥

Holding True

There's this man. I loved him. I love him. I'm not really sure if it's past or present. But in my heart, it feels like it's still there.

I've never thought of love as being complete. You hear women say it all the time, I'm looking for the man that completes me. I'm not. I need to complete me. I'm looking for the man that compliments the woman that I am, that challenges me to grow, that will help me to be a better person. That's what I'm looking for.

This man, he's an amazing man. Talented, hardworking, loving, caring, and so funny! From the same home state as me. But he grew up north of where I did. We share the same religion, passion for music, and love of life. But our dreams and hopes for the future, lead the two of us, on two very different roads.

He recently started a blog. And I'm not sure what to think of it. I know how he feels. I know how I feel. But does that make something like this logical? I'm not sure...

Yesterday morning, I watched this video, read this tweet, and read this blog post. It just made me think, I need to stick to my guns. He has a lot to prove to me. A lot to apologize for. And he needs to work on gaining my trust again. I didn't do anything wrong. And I'm not compromising who I am, because he suddenly woke up.

It's crazy. He was the person I went to for everything! We'd hangout at school. He'd bring me a peanut butter sandwich between classes. I would have class from 6AM-10PM. We'd talk about life. Things we wanted. How many kids we wanted. What we'd name them. Where we'd live. The fact that I want to stay home with my kids. And he always felt like he needed to be able to support a family on his own.

When things were really bad, I went to him. There were many nights, that he helped me out. Just listening. Helping me to work through one of the worst things that could ever happen to a young girl. Something that I had buried deep down inside. Never told anyone. To this day, the only 2 people I've told, are him and my counselor. And as a young adult, it came bubbling to the surface. He helped me through it. Encouraged me to get help. And to work on putting it behind me.

He was also the one I ran to when I lost my uncle. I cried. I held on to him like he was the sole reason I was alive. He reassured me. Held me tight let me cry. And arranged for me to get home for the services. In mere hours, I was on a cross country flight home.

This man, held my hand before surgery. Before a surgery that I didn't tell my parents about until 4 or 5 years later! He was there. Took care of me. Literally helped me do everything I needed to do for weeks after. Besides my mom and grandma, I don't think anyone else has ever washed my dirty clothes. But he did. And bought me groceries. Tried to cook. Carried me to and from my house to his truck. Drove 90 minutes my doctor's appointments and back again. He was there for me.

He knows more about me than any other single person on this planet. Everything! My deepest and darkest secrets. The horrible stuff that I endured as a kid. The loneliness I felt growing up. My insecurities. All of my accomplishments. My likes. My dreams. What makes my blood boil over. How to get me to fall asleep. He knows it all.

I never felt safer, more loved, or more comfortable than I did around him. His hugs, they were like a warm blanket, that wrapped around my soul. He made me toes curl with a single grin. And my heart race every time he sang. No place felt more safe, than tightly wrapped in his arms. Listening to his heart beat.

He was the one. We joked many, many times about getting married. At 19, I almost did. In "Sin City." We were working a gig. And as poor as they get. We had just realized, we could get some help with our tuition, if we got married. It would cost less than $100. We seriously considered it. But ended our night with a mini wedding cake instead. When he got the big job in Florida, he asked me to marry him again. For real this time. Ginormous diamond ring included. Down on one knee. Tears in his eyes. Arms held out. Because he loved me. And he wanted us to have a life together...

We talked about. About marriage, life, work, careers, moves, homes, and babies. But I knew he needed to chase after his dreams. He wanted to be a musician. And he had every right to do it. He worked hard for this job. I didn't want him to give it up for me. To one day regret not taking the job. And blaming it one me. I knew he had to go. And I knew that I needed to stay here. To work. To go to school. To accomplish all those things my parents wanted me to do.

So I stayed. He left. We tried to make it work. And it was going OK. Until he moved out of the country. And our lives really took different paths. Jealousy set in. Accusations started. The fighting began. The horrible fighting. I couldn't stand to hear his voice, much less see his face. Every single time we saw each other, it turned into WWIII. No lie!

And last summer, it was like the volcano erupted. Just everything the two of us had been holding in, came out. 6AM, in the middle of my front yard. I'd worked 4 days straight. Just drove into my driveway. And he had just gotten back from a tour. I knew in an instant, he had changed...

This wasn't the same man. He had hatred in his eyes. It was like his soul was empty. Missing something. The life, it wasn't shining through his eyes anymore. That, was the last time we talked. The very last time.

Because we have the same friends, work similar gigs, and well, have to see each other from time to time, we've become civil. Not that it's been easy. He did get punched out in a rehearsal. And was asked to leave. Not by me. But by our boss, and my friend. It was shocking. But real life. Slowly, we've begun to heal. We e-mail each other from time to time. But we haven't really talked.

A very close friend of ours, she wants us to talk. She sees both sides. She travels with him and her husband. She's one of my best friends. She really wants us to sit and talk about it. To work through this. We were the "Happy Little Couple." Everyone just expected that one day, we'd make it official. I'm not so sure anymore. But I would like my old friend back. Especially since, we still have to sing together. In less than a month, we're singing for a friend's wedding. Then a show 2 weeks after that.

But listening to the end of this video, reading this tweet, and reading Kandee's letter, it makes me think, I don't ever want to compromise my beliefs, values, and morals. I'm 27 years old. Successful. On my own. No man, and I mean NO MAN, owns me. I'm a person. Not a piece of property. And I deserve and expect to be treated with respect.

It's funny. So many men, they just want sex. That's it. Plain and simple. Being a female performer, I see this a lot. Guys think they're all that and a sack of potatoes. Throwing around cash. Acting like fools. Thinking that will get my attention. Funny how it doesn't. What you see on stage, that's a character. I get paid to be that person. When I leave the stage, I wash off the makeup, throw on a pair of sweats, and comb through my hair. The HUGE and oh so fancy hotel suites, well, I go back alone. To read, study for my classes, and to go to sleep. I'm really not that exciting.

He got that. He understood. I think he actually preferred me in sweats, no makeup, and my out of control hair. He never pressured me into anything. Just realized that I was me. And I had my own time table for things. Beliefs in life. For love.

The ring I wear on my left hand. It's more than a piece of jewelry. It means something to me. I don't care if I'm 27 or not. Or if people think I'm an "Old Maid." That doesn't matter to me. It's a ring I bought for myself. A promise I made to myself. Because one day, I'm going to find the right man for me. That loves, honors, and respects me, for the person I am. Maybe it will be him again. I don't know...

I guess, only time will tell. But I do know, I have to stay true to the woman that I am. I'm special. I'm the only person that is like me. No one else even comes close. Because God has made us all unique. Maybe I'm not right for this man. But there is someone out there. Someone that God made just for me. I just need to be patient. And I can never lose myself in other people. It hurts too much. And through these 3 very different women, I got the message. Loud and clear. I need to be true to me. Because in the end, it's just not worth it to lose yourself in a man. ♥

Miserable Day

It's sorta funny when I think about. The entire day was pretty bad. It started with me waking up at 2AM because of the shooting pain in my hands and arms. I couldn't sleep. They felt like cement. I couldn't move. And it hurt so bad. But what could I do? Nothing. I have no health insurance. I have no money. Welcome to America.

I spent the next 20 minutes trying to get out of bed. And another 15 minutes trying to open my front door. Where I sat in the silence of early morning. Praying to God. And hoping that the pain and fear would go away. I know something is wrong. This is not normal. I've worked in health care too long to let this fall at the wayside. And the feeling in my gut, that spoke louder than any other person could.

Sometime after 6AM, I called my Dad. I knew he would be up. He's always up early. Just to talk. Maybe talking about nothing at all, maybe that would take my mind off of things. No, it didn't help. The only thing I could get him to talk about was the donut he was eating. And sometime after 7AM, when my Mom woke up, I was still miserable. Add to all of this, the miserable cold I got from getting caught in the rain.

But my Mom and I had a good conversation. We talked about a lot of things. And she was in such a great mood. It helped to lighten my own mood. Not the same type of conversation that my Dad and I had early this morning. But I'm coming to realize, the only time he has any kind of a real conversation with me, is when they fight...

So I went on with my day. I managed to drive myself to the library. I needed to get on the computer for school related things. Never mind that I have a laptop at home. But I have no internet access. And I need a new power cord...

I got some stuff done. But I couldn't finish it in the 1 hour they give you. That's right. You get 1 hour, of computer time, at your local library. Not much I could get done with 2 numb hands. So I headed to work. In pain. I still couldn't feel my hands and arms. And it was becoming difficult to breathe. I Thanked God that J wasn't home. That's all I needed. Was to be lectured by him, because I was feeling so bad and needed to go to the hospital.

From 9:30AM-5:30PM I worked. I locked myself in my office, and I finished all the paperwork for the guys. They're leaving early in the morning. Headed to the next job. I started payroll. And I had a million and a half things to do. Let's not get started on the fact that I couldn't feel my hands. And I've been panicked about that ALL DAY LONG!

I missed my session. And I got the usual call to my cellphone. Which I ignored. Guaranteed Dr. D. was at my front door knocking away. But I had to get through work. And honestly, I was in no mood to deal with all my crap today. I had already called to cancel. Guaranteed, he didn't believe me. So I call my parents when I get home.

I should have known when they didn't answer, that something was up. Because I can always reach them between 5-7PM. ALWAYS! Because they're usually eating dinner, or just finishing dinner, or having dessert. They're like that. On a schedule. But nothing. Not after the 3rd time I called on Dad's cellphone. Not on Mom's phone. Not another 5 times on Dad's. I knew something was up...

Oh ya, the crap really hit the fan tonight. I don't know what started it. Nor do I care. But honestly, I swear to God. If my husband ever told me the things my Dad has, I'd beat the man senseless. I'm not trying to be mean here. But there are certain things, that you should never hear about your parents. EVER! I don't care how mad the other is.

But that is what happened when my Dad called me at almost 6:30PM. I don't know how to put it. But it's time. It's time for them to walk away. There's nothing left there. No respect, no trust, and I'm doubting any love...

It saddens me. But if it will bring peace of mind to the 3 of us, it's time. It really is time. How many times can my Dad imagine things happening? How many times can he put HIS kids in front of my Mom? Hell, he tries to do that with me. I just don't let him. How many truly hurtful things can they say to each other?

That right there, that is the sole reason I run from relationships. I know it. No one has to tell me. I know this. For 27 years, I've heard the same fights. Seen the same things happen. And I usually sweep in, and fix things. But you know what? My own life is going up in flames. And I can't be there to fix them. I'm trying to save myself.

I happened to mention my brother. Oh, that really pissed my Dad off. But how many times can I tell him, he is a big part, of the current problems. How can a man, that is older than my Mom, live with them? Does my Dad really think it was going to be OK? My brother doesn't respect my Mom or me. That's why I've avoided going home. Yes, I used to go home a lot more often. For a week or 2 in the summer. But how can I now? Oh ya, in front of my Dad he acts like this saint of a son and brother. But he's not!

And the neighbors, my Dad doesn't want to know the real reasons why they won't talk to them. The neighbor across the street approached me about my brother. What was I supposed to do? Lie? I just didn't say anything. They showed me the papers they got. But whatever. "We're" not supposed to talk about it.

There are so many things going on. And when I mentioned to my Dad that perhaps my parents should see a counselor. Or maybe each of them talk to a friend. Forget it. He didn't like it. But how in the world, does he think, it's OK to throw all of this crap on top of me? I see a counselor and a psychologist. Just trying to deal with this. All of it! I'm not embarrassed to admit it. Sometimes, we just have to admit what's wrong. It's the only way we're ever going to fix it.

Can I tell you something? I've had a horrible day today. Just plain out horrible. I've never in my life had this kind of pain. Not even after my surgery. Never. Ever. And I've never struggled to breathe this much in my entire life! But I can't afford to go to the doctor. I don't even want to think about what it would cost to go to the ER. And I've never, ever in my life, felt like I've needed to go more that I do today.

And on top of that, I was supposed to go talk to Dr. S. tonight. There is no way I'm going now. I'm late. Seriously late. After my Dad and I got off the phone, I was way too emotional. And already 45 minutes late! Dr. S. was probably planning to just yell at me anyone. Because no one can understand that I seriously can't afford school anymore. I'm broke. And my job is just not cutting it anymore...

Do you know that my life is in absolute ruins at the moment? I feel like I'm in free fall. And nobody, not a single soul, could give a damn! That's my life. I can rely more on my friends than I can on my family. It's just fact. They're so wrapped up, in drama that they create for themselves, that I'm left flapping in the wind. It's always been this way!

And then my Dad has the nerve to tell me that he wishes he would just die. He wants to die right now. Are you freaking serious? He absolutely has no clue. None whatsoever. And here I am. His daughter. His youngest daughter. Over 3 hours away, I can't feel my 2 appendages, I'm struggling to breathe, and you tell me this. How on earth do you think, that is not going to bother me?

I swear to God, I can't win for trying. Not in anything in life. Not in trying to talk to my Dad. Not in music. Because he didn't want me to have a career in it. Never mind that I made more money playing birthday parties, than I ever did at the hospital. I enjoyed it. And I was at least able to afford school and food at the same time. It never mattered to anyone that I nearly killed myself trying to work and go to school. That at one point, I was malnourished. Because I was trying to pay for school. And I honestly couldn't afford food.

Never mind that I've had to walk away from the only thing that was keeping me afloat...my internship. Even with all the violence I had to endure, being held at gunpoint and all, that was all I had. An internship where I felt useful and productive. I'm scrapping what little money I have, just to pay for tuition. I know I'm going to have to do without books. I picked up an application for the National Guard yesterday. That's how desperate I am.

But nothing matters. It doesn't matter that I've been on the Dean's List since I started college. Or that I have a 4.0 GPA. None of that matters. Because people are too wrapped up in their own lives. All my Dad can ever see is, this child that is his daughter. And why in hell can't I graduate already. I feel like a failure in his eyes. I always have. No matter how hard I try.

My brother is so freaking paranoid that I'm going to walk away with everything, that he had the nerve to put me down when I left last week. I almost told my Dad. ALMOST! I was so close to telling him just what my brother said. Because he always waits until no one is around. Grow a pair. Be a man, and say what is on your mind in front of our Dad. If you have the guts to tell me, tell him too! Are you honestly going to tell me crap about bringing home groceries? Because Lord help me, my parents bought me some food. Free willed. I never told them that they had too. Or that I needed it.

This while he stays in their home. It's been almost 7 months. He doesn't buy food. All summer that I've gone, he wasn't working. But he feels like he has the right to tell me something about my groceries? Oh, bull crap! Do you even know how to clean the bathroom you use? Can you offer to do the dishes after I cook? No. You eat, and you run to your girlfriend.

Do you know that soon after he moved in with them, he said something to me? Ya. Something very hurtful. Something that made me refuse to go to the store with my parents. Something that stuck in my head. That had me avoiding my parents' house. I wouldn't let them buy me a loaf of bread. I hardly went to visit them for a long time. Then when I would go, I would avoid being at the house. I'd go to the library during the day. And the office at night. Because of what he said. But our Dad never knew the truth...

Then sometime during the summer, I said to hell with him. If he gets to live there for free, and eat for free...who is he to tell me anything, when my parents buy me some groceries? So when my parents wanted to take a road trip, I was game for it. Or if they felt like buying me some groceries or a couple of shirts, I figured, it was THEIR BUSINESS. NOT HIS! It's not like I'm running off with THEIR money. Or only going to see them for food, trips, and shopping. I go to see them. BOTH of my parents. Because I think he forgets that MY MOM is just as important as OUR DAD! I still only eat 1 meal a day. And a little something when I take my medication. I still live off of very little money. But I do this on my own. Can he say the same?

But that is what I'm dealing with. I just pray to God that he helps my parents. They need all the prayers they can get. Whether it's time for them to part ways or not. Maybe they shouldn't have listened to their 5 year old daughter, 22 years ago. The daughter that begged them to get married...

And I also prayed to God, that if there is something serious wrong with me, just to take me. I can't handle this much longer. The pain. Both physical and emotional. I'm sitting here an empty shell. Unable to let anyone love me. I can't trust. And I'm starting to lose faith in this game we call life. I really have no faith in people. Not Mr. Blue Eyes who wants nothing more than to help me heal. And to love me. Not the Cowboy who makes me smile, with the sound of his voice. Not Sanchocito who I really thought I could let in. And most certainly not J. The man who would do anything for me. But I can't.

These are my friends. What they don't realize is the hurt and the pain I've lived through. My inability to trust anyone. Or to truly believe that someone can love you without, expecting something from you. Or hurting you. I'm so afraid of being hurt. But honestly, how much worse can it get? This horrible secret that I've had stuck inside me, since I was 7 years old, I could never ever tell my parents. I would never know how to begin...

Let's be real. They have enough going on. And maybe I was only sent to earth to try and make peace of their lives. I don't know. I sit and ask God every single day to give me strength. To help me along. But at this point, not only is the world fighting against me. My own body is turning on itself.

I don't know how much more I can take. I really wish Memo or O was here. I need someone to just listen to me. To reassure me that I'm going to make it until tomorrow. Because I'm really not sure. Everything hurts. My heart, my head, my soul. Physical pain. Emotion pain. Mental pain.

People see me. They really think I have it all together. How else would they trust me with their kids? What else would motivate people to ask me to be their kids' Godmother, or their Madrina for their wedding? I'm not sure. I want to be as strong as people think I am. I'm just not sure that I am. Or that I have the ability anymore.

I've always said there is a lot of fight inside of me. But when there is nothing left. And you're an empty shell, where do you dig for what you need to survive? I'm at that point. I want to call someone to talk to. But the only person that comes to mind, he has enough on his plate. A serious illness that has returned. And do I really want to burden him with all of this? Do I want him to see this disastrous side of my life? The side that makes me not believe in love or in people.

At this point, I know I'm in the world alone. I know that for a fact. After today, that was made blatantly clear. From a parent that felt his emotional needs were greater than my physical ones, to the loss in humanity as a whole. I wipe away the tears, I try to gather strength, and I pray to God that he gives me another day to live. No matter how hard you work, life is nothing more than a dog fight. ♥

1 in 8

Well, my mission for the day was to find textbooks. I didn't find what I needed. Looks like I'm going to go without books for the semester. I just can't imagine spending $300 on books that I will only use for 4 months. And for classes I would not be taking, if I had the money to continue with my internship. So there you go.

I was starving. Mostly because I didn't eat breakfast this morning. And I spent a little longer than I had planned to, looking for my books. I wanted to stop at Carnita's Queretaro or even Taco Cabana. But I have no money. Seriously, I have $4 something in my wallet. And what I have in the bank needs to go to school. Same song...different verse.

So I made the hour trip home. And made myself a sandwich. And most people would be pretty upset. But I was grateful to have bread, cheese, and some turkey. No lie! There have been times when I had no food. Nothing in the freezer, refrigerator, or pantry. And I was hungry. There were a few times when I went to the local soup kitchen. And I was very grateful for this.



I work(ed) for the DOH. And I saw many people barely making it. On food stamps, WIC, and still needing to go to the local Food Banks. These people would break my hearts. Especially the small children. But they got some help. I never could. Because I own "too much" property for a single person. At least in the government's opinion. Um, I have a house. And I'm single. But it doesn't mean that I don't struggle too.



I learned about "Food Insecurity" in school. Being that I study nutrition, public health, mental health, pre-med, and fitness you learn about these things. I still remember that day. My professor was talking about it like it was just common knowledge. This was in 2005. 1 in 8 people were "Food Insecure" for 3/4 of the month. Meaning, they can't afford food. And have no way of getting it. The really sad part is, now it's more like 1 in 6 Americans are in need of food. In 1 year, it rose from 1 in 8, to 1 in 6. In my state, it's 1 in 3.



Immediately, I thought to myself, that's me. It really was. And still is. My parents would kill me if they knew. But I'm 27 years old. In college. And work a part time job. My money goes to overpriced tuition and books. And some stuff for my health. It's just life. And it really saddens me. But guaranteed, if people saw me in real life, they'd never have a clue that I am "Food Insecure."



I love to cook! And to be able to share with my friends and family. But there have been nights when I have gone to bed hungry. Now, I'm just grateful when I open the cabinet and see a small box of pasta and a can of tomatoes. I'm not looking for sympathy. But to share some knowledge with you. I hope you took the time to click on those 4 links.



Don't judge people for what you see. You sincerely need to walk a day in their shoes. See what their life is really about. On the outside, I'm sure people think I have it all together. But when you see me, there is a lot more going on. Think about your 8 closest friends. Can you figure out which one is suffering silently? ♥

They Don't Get It

Sometimes, I'd like to scream. More because people don't get it. My 11th hour Hail Mary...well, it didn't come. And today, was the day I had my meeting, with all the people that are associated with my internship. And no one understands, I really want to stay in my internship. I just can't afford to.

It's black and white. No grey areas at all. I just can't afford it. I'm looking at close to $15,000 a semester. I'm carry pretty much all of it, on my own. Paid at the end of each semester. It's tough. And at times, it feels nearly impossible. I borrow from J a lot to make the last few payments. Or in the case of the last year, I've heavily depended on him. It's impossible for me to do this on my own anymore. In fact, it has reached impossible. My Dad just doesn't get it. Not at all. I sit and explain to him a thousand and one different ways. He still doesn't understand.

And my Dean, professors, internship advisors, and academic advisors, well, they don't get it either. I can barely handle tuition/books or internship/insurance. I just can't handle both anymore. And they just want me to get a loan. But I want to finish school without one. At least until I hit medical school. Because I know what the costs are going to be there. So there we are. In a hole.

I need my internship to take my classes. But I can't afford it. So I'm taking 2 classes in the Fall. Praying that a dietetic internship comes available before December. And I'm looking for a real PAYING job. Because I'm not making it. So 2 classes, no internship, and a paying job. That's my plan.

How in the world did I afford it before now? I worked. I worked in a band. A few bands. But 1 in particular, I made 99% of my money with. I busted my rear end, traveled, played and sang...and never spent the money. But now, the guys are getting married and having kids. Our band is more of a casual hobby. And I'm pretty much out of work. So I have no money.

My parents helped a little with tuition last Spring. But I was still carrying 85% of the costs. And now, well I have no money for books or tuition. So the internship is out the door. And it crushes my heart and soul. But what am I supposed to do? The only big assets I have are my house and my car. Both are pretty essential. All of my money that I saved since I was a baby, well it's tied up in CDs and bank accounts with my Dad. He doesn't think I need it...

It's beyond tough to walk away from your dream. Especially when so many people are pulling for you. And it's all you want to do. And I'm good at it! Damn good. But I can't do it. I need to work to continue with my internship, but my internship doesn't allow much time away from school and the hospital. It's a total Catch 22.

Today really sucks. My soul feels empty. And my heart is broken. I feel like I've let so many people down. But most importantly, I've let myself down. And then, my Dad yells at me. Seriously? I'm the only one trying to halfway make a better life for myself. Doing it on my own. And he has the nerve to yell at me? I just don't get it. So much for calling my parents this evening.

For now, I have to reassess things. Figure out what my next move is. Seriously contemplate if I should be in school or not. And I need to find a decent job. I don't mind scrubbing toilets and changing diapers. I just need a job that pays halfway decent. I've never really been a big spender. You can definitely tell from my house. I've been here for 9 years, I still don't have all the furniture I need. Heck, only 2 rooms have curtains. So you can see, I sacrifice. I'm just not sure if those sacrifices are paying off.

I need to go now. Wipe away my tears. Hope that my eyes don't continue to look blood shot. I'm working tonight with the Mariachi group. And I have to look nice. I really do hope my mood picks up a bit. Because I feel a lot like this weather...gloomy, dark, and rainy. Not the best when you need to put on a show. But I'm hoping, at least my friends understand. And maybe they can help me to find the next road I need to take in life. ♥

Overload of Emotions

It's crazy! Today was supposed to be all about me signing papers. The papers that would say, if anything were to happen to S and D, Maribel would become my daughter. Yes, I'm her Nana. And her parents asked me to take her in case anything were to happen to them. They asked A to take Marissa and Mariella. And they asked us if we could co-parent the girls. We are both very honored that they trust us so very much!

It was a big day. Later in the summer, they'll do the same for their new twins. They'll go with their respective Godparents. And it was a big day. I felt a HUGE surge of responsibility. Like one day, Maribel could possibly be mine. I hope I don't screw this up! She is their daughter, and I want to do the best I can. How on Earth do they think I can do this? I guess people see more good in me, than I see in myself.

And that my friends, was supposed to be the emotional day I was to have. Ending with a quick lunch and me heading back to work. But someone out there in the universe, thinks I need more emotion. And they sent me truck loads today. It began when I returned to work after lunch. And Dr. S was all up on me. Because he received his paperwork that I will be finished with my internship on July 9, 2010.

Why? You probably want to know that. Well, I was supposed to be done with it back in May. I'm dead broke. I have no money. And I actually have to pay for my internship. I don't get paid a red cent! But I've managed. At least, thus far. Now, our gigs are farther and farther apart. The little bit of money I make working for J goes to me getting better physical and mentally. The whole computer dying...well it didn't help my bank account either. It leaves me with no money for school. Much less an internship that costs nearly $8000 a semester.

I had managed to save up some money. Some money I was going to use for my Fall tuition. But Dr. S and the Dean of Ag managed to talk me into just one more semester of my internship. I wasn't sure. But when Dr. S agreed to pay for my insurance. And the Dean threw in $500, well I couldn't say no. How could anyone?

So I pitched in my almost $1200. Dr. M bought my scrubs. And I borrowed the rest from J. I knew it was a temporary fix. But it allowed me a few more weeks on the job. And that, I couldn't resist. I know there are many people pulling for me to succeed. But sometimes, the desire, passion, and talent are not enough. I just can't do this anymore. I have no money. So the next semester for my internship begins July 12, 2010. I won't be there. Therefore, I'm forfeiting the remainder of my internship.

It saddens my heart to no end. I cried for weeks knowing that it was coming. But there is nothing left for me to do. Not a darn thing. Believe me, I've tried. But I just don't feel right asking my parents to help me. And I can't possibly borrow another cent from J. He's too good of a friend.

So today, instead of Rounds, I sat in Dr. S's office and got yelled at. For 3 hours. I tried to keep it together. But the tears came. I couldn't hold them back. Because this is what I want to do with my life. I just don't have the means to do it. I respect Dr. S to the ends of the Earth. He has made me the "Doctor-in-training" that I am. And now, Dr. S is mad and disappointed in me. And in a few short weeks, I won't work in the hospital. And I won't work with my kiddos...

It was bad. I cried. I couldn't look at Dr. S for the rest of the day. My heart broke every single time I saw one of my patients. This is what I was put on Earth to do. Be a pediatrician. But I can't do it. When it came time to leave, I was slightly relieved. And looked forward to a peaceful evening...

Then I'm on my way home. It's been a hell of a day! And I just want 5 minutes of peace before I have to go to church. My Dad calls. He never calls me. I have to call them. And if I don't call every single day, it's like having to face God and Satan at the same time. I usually call my parents when I get home from work. So this was HUGE surprise! And my Dad never really talks to me on the phone. Our conversations usually go,


Dad: "Hi. How are you? How's the weather? How was work?"
Me: "Hi Dad. It's hot. Really hot. Work was work. I'm on my way home. How's your leg?"
Dad: "It's hot as hell here. My legs OK."


Then I usually hear him ask my Mom if she wants to talk to me. We will usually talk for 30 minutes to an hour. But not today. Dad was pissed. I could just tell. And he talked. And said all these sideways comments. And I knew he was mad. And I was already all emotional. My eyes still stung from crying earlier. And it really was hot in my car. I was trying to make the hour drive home. That was quickly turning into 90 minutes because of construction and traffic. Oh the heat was bad!

And my Dad kept on and on and on. I knew he was mad. Then I said something about having to go to the store after mass. He just blew up on me. I pulled over. Because, well, no need to cause an accident as my Dad is telling me off. Over what? Because I need to go buy some water. Sorry, but we're in the middle of an extreme heat wave. In case he's forgotten, I don't have AC at home. I might be the only one in the entire Borderland without AC. I need some water.

Yes, all I mentioned was that I needed to go pick up some water. And maybe some groceries. Because you know, I get hungry from time to time too. Lord help me for needing to eat and stay cool. And he just went off. Honestly, a few bucks is not going to make or break me at this point. I have no money. What's $2 in water? And maybe $10 in groceries. But I made the fatal error of mentioning a trip to Costco with J tomorrow...

That's when the yelling began, and my tears just flowed. Why does he have to constantly yell? Shouldn't he be happy that I have someone to lean on a little here? I don't have a Costco card because I can't afford it. And honestly, I only need to go maybe once a year to buy some toilet paper and laundry soap. So what's the big deal? My Dad has known that for over 2 years, I haven't had a card. And I've never asked him for one. I know he gets them for his employees. But I don't need one. Not for 1-2 trips a year. He just started yelling at me because of J. Would it be so bad if a good man like J wanted to take care of me? Apparently so...

At this point, I guess I'm not good enough to be a happy person. I should be miserable at home. And no, it's not OK for anyone, especially a man, to lend me a helping hand. Funny thing is, I don't lean on anyone. I might cry a little when things get bad. And yes, I'm not going to lie, I go to J or Memo to talk about things. And well, yes, I usually cry too. But it's not like J is doing anything for me other than being my friend.

But honestly, tomorrow, I'm meeting J to pick up a thing of toilet paper, some laundry soap, and maybe some tuna. And if I don't find water again tonight, I might buy some tomorrow. It's not that big of a deal. But to my Dad, it sure as hell was. And he yelled and yelled. And told me how ungrateful I am. And why is he even living because no one appreciates him anyhow. Um, Dad, you taught me to stand on my own 2 feet. To not need anyone, to do things for myself. I'm just trying to do that. And grow up. But he just yelled. Which made me cry...

And why was that? Because I try so hard to make him proud. And I try so hard to be financially independent. And I can't do it anymore. And I'm falling apart here. And I don't want to burden my parents. And I most certainly don't want to disappoint them either! But my Dad doesn't see it that way. I don't do enough in his eyes. I'm dropping the ball everywhere he's concerned. And why in the hell am I spending my own money on some of life's necessities?

I had to remind him that I'm 27 years old. I've lived on my own since I was 18. And I need to do these things. Whether or not I struggle, it's part of growing up. Hell, most people in my family, at my age, have at least 3 kids. But here I am, trying to make it through college, and everything I do is wrong.

Well, the fight with me was interrupted by some other fight. With who? I have no clue. But he hung up on me. And there I was. On the side of the highway, crying. Because my Dad just doesn't get it. Maybe my 59 year old brother is OK with being a full time mooch. But I'm not. And if I have to leave school for a while, and live off of boiled macaroni, and sweat all summer long...well I will.

And no matter how much yelling Dr. S does, I can't responsibly sign up for another semester of school. And no matter if I have no food, I will never go to my parents for a handout. Because I'm an adult. I have to stand on my own 2 feet. That's what responsible adults do.

And then I think about earlier today. 2 of my very best friends are trusting to raise their daughter, if they are not here to do it. So I must not be a bad person. They have to see some good in me to trust me with someone as special, loving, and as important as Maribel is. That right there, softens my heart a little. And reminds me, there is good in this life.

Now it's time for me to go. Or I'll be late to mass. And tonight of all nights, I need some love from God. And my favorite little girls. I'm proud to me their Tia/Nana. And big hug from Memo wouldn't be so bad either. He really is like a father figure to me. And Bless your soul if you made it this far. You really have a special place in my heart, simply for caring this much. ♥

It Hurts Too Much

Have you ever heard that saying,
"If you love them, then let them go. If they love you, they'll come back to you."

I've heard that a hundred different times, a hundred different ways. But if pretty much means the same thing. I loved my friend, S with all my heart. Not in a romantic way, which caused a lot of friction, between a lot of people. But I loved him nonetheless. We met when I came to college. He was the first person to introduce themselves to me. I had been in school for almost 3 weeks when we met.

I showed up to a rehearsal that I had missed for the first 2 1/2 weeks of school. Because the times and days had been changed. And no one thought to post a note or anything. It took me going to the Dean's Office, to find out where and when this class was.

And like the good little student I am, I was 30 minutes early. With my homework for another class. I sat at a table, completely immersed in music theory. Not realizing that my fellow musicians were slowly pouring into the room. And when I looked up, Mr. Casanova himself was standing right in front of me. His arm was making it's way around my shoulders, to hug me. "Hi. My name is S. You must be new around here." Um, I didn't know what to say. But I knew instantly, I was in trouble.

Probably because every female in the room was hot for him. And I knew it instantly. Secondly, who in the heck comes up and gives you a hug when you are first meeting? In case you're wondering, I'm not a hugger! In fact, I enjoy personal space. A lot!

But S was persistent. I have to give him that much. By the end of rehearsal, he had written his phone number on the side of my music. Had sang one of my favorite songs, which left me almost unable to play. And invited me to go out to eat with a bunch of the other musicians.

Over the next few weeks, we became good friends. We saw each other at rehearsal twice a week. And I noticed S was in my building a lot more. I knew he wasn't majoring in the same field as I was, so I wasn't sure what that was all about. His best friend, G and his girlfriend L, they also quickly became friends with me. Before long, we were the 4 Musketeers. Sharing meals, laughing at S, and becoming friends. In fact, we even shared tears. That was the year that our entire world changed...9/11 happened.

These were people that I could trust. That understood when you only have $5 to your name. And who shared my passion for our culture...and music. I was asked to join a group that the guys played in, and the rest is history. In the next 3 years, we went to hell and back together. We would scrap up our nickels and dimes to eat beans and rice together. And then pack up our bags to fly across the country to perform. The guys and I traveled the same 40 something miles at least 8 times a week.

There came the big shows that we performed in. All the traveling. Even my lost luggage. We got through it all. And they even helped me get through some of my darkest days. My car accident. I'm still amazed that I survived that! When 2 very important ladies in my life were facing death. And my friends were there to hold me as God called 4 of my family members back to heaven. It was tough, but I always had my friends to lean on.

I'm the youngest of my friends. And when we all were asked to join the professional ranks of music, I knew I couldn't go. But I wanted for my friends to live out their dreams. Heck, S and I always talked about making it big one day. About working hard when we were young. And then, one day, walking away from it all to have a family. At that point in my life, S was the only person that really knew a lot about me. I had never shared a whole lot with people. I was used to being alone. But he knew me.

Even across the country, you couldn't keep these 2 good friends apart. We emailed, MySpaced, IM'd, video chatted, and talked on the phone. I flew across country to be in G and L's wedding. I loved every minute of being with my friends. And when S called me looking for advice, it was me that pushed him to chase his dream.

That was probably when things started to go wrong. I wasn't doing so well. He knew it. But I also knew this was a once in a lifetime opportunity for him. So I wished my friends well, and they began touring all over the world. I would get random gifts, letters, and pictures from everywhere...Japan, Italy, Spain, etc. And I was so excited for my friends.

But I was also miserable at home. I was trying to find my way. Trying to just make it. Struggling financially. Trying to stay afloat in every way I could. Let me tell you, it wasn't going so well. And then, I met Mr. "Southern Boy" himself. It was random. I was performing in Las Vegas. With the band. He happened to be there with some friends. It was a "Guys' Weekend" for them. I was just trying to make some money to pay for my books.

That chance meeting, turned into an amazing friendship. I think I've finally met someone who gets me. Again, I'm not looking for a romantic relationship. But this is someone who understands how I grew up. Who can understand feeling this alone in life. He gets that money isn't everything. That most of the time, it just means more problems. He gets that.

This man, became my friend. A good friend. Someone that I call when life is just so stinking miserable, that I don't want to get out of bed. Before long, I think he was making up gigs for our band. Trying to help me out. But it didn't matter. He was my friend. We are a very unlikely pairing of friends. Especially if you know us and know our backgrounds. But we are so similar, you would think we grew up together!

This didn't sit well with S. In fact, it created more problems than I could have ever imagined. S was OK with J. He knew that we were best friends. But this new guy, he was not comfortable with him. At all! And before I knew it, a storm was brewing. An evil one.

I'm that girl. The one that has a bunch of guy friends. But I'm also the one that is always trying to set them up. But I'm that girl. I work with nothing but guys. My best friends are guys. I just feel more comfortable with male friends. I don't have to worry about a whole lot when it comes to them. They just like to enjoy life. And they are extra security when I need it. Like the big brothers that I never really had.

Over the summer, S and I had a blow out fight. The kind that leaves you sick in your stomach. J felt bad about. In fact, I was mad at both of them. For a while. S mad me so incredibly mad. Because he made me second guess myself. I started questioning my actions. And I don't do that. He wanted me to himself. I was feeling like a possession. And I wasn't having it. We had a horrible fight the day before our friends' wedding. The kind of fight that had me yelling at him, while I stood in my driveway, shoes in my hand. I was so mad.

And I left. I got in my car, and I drove. We didn't talk for the rest of the weekend. Not 1 word to each other. That was it. Not even 2 months later, he was back. For my Goddaughter's birthday. Acting liking a fool. An older friend of ours, someone that is like a dad, also had a huge fight with him. I later found out why. And it had something to do with me. But that wasn't it. He was really looking for a fight.

And sure enough he got it. We were in rehearsal. Getting ready for a gig for the "Southern Boy." S was going to go with us. And I was late to rehearsal. Which was normal. I had to work at the hospital until late. And when I walked into rehearsal, you could feel the tension. Then, S started with the little remarks. And the "Southern Boy" wasn't having it. Neither were the guys in the band. And before I knew it, S was laying on the ground. The "Southern Boy" had just punched him. I'm going to spare you the details. But it wasn't good!

He left that night. And that was the last I had heard from him. I hadn't seen him. Or talked to him. I was really disappointed that my friendship, could take such a turn for the worst. G kept wanting to talk to me. But the time was never right. Until last night.

S, G, L, and I sat down for a talk. Actually, it started out just S and I. But before long 2 turned into 4 turned into 8. And I already knew what was coming. Way before it came. I just knew it. I had known for a while. Just by the way that G had been acting. I don't own S. And never wanted to. I in fact, wanted him to find an amazing woman out there, while he was traveling. But things went, um a little nuts. And G didn't appreciate it. Especially when I was the one catching all the hell. For something I didn't do.

To sum it up, S and I must have yelled at each other for a good 6 hours. I don't even know. We got it all out there. It's all on the table. No skeletons to hide. I had to actually physically protect him from some of our friends. I didn't want to. But I feared what might have happened if I didn't.

I didn't leave on a good note. In fact, it will be a miracle if we ever speak again. There were too many things said. Things that should have never left either of our mouths. But it's done. And I'm not sure I want to fight for this friendship any longer. I know, it sounds selfish and cruel. But sometimes, these things don't work. Even with the best of intentions.

I'm starting to second guess my ability to even have a good friendship. People who I've treasured as friends, they're the ones that have hurt me the worst. Off the top of my head, I can name 5 close friends, whose friendships have gone up in smoke. In the last 3 or 4 years! It's sad. Maybe it's me. Maybe I just trust the wrong people.

But it just hurts, deep down in my heart. I think it's time to close up my heart. At least for a little while. And let it heal. My poor heart, and soul, have been taking a beating lately. I'm raw inside. Left without the ability to show or share my emotions and feelings. I just think it's time for me to heal. To allow myself to love the person that I am. And to be a little selfish, and put myself first, for once in my lifetime. ♥