I feel it now.
The passion to write. I didn't before, and then it hit me like a smack in the gut. It welled up and up in side of me and suddenly there was this thing; this feeling like my favorite sound in the world was my fingers hitting the keys of my computer pounding out thoughts and feelings flooding out and pouring over and I couldn't stop them, but whats more... I didn't want to. There is so much inside of me, I hide it and I well it up and then it explodes; in that way I am very much like my father and not my mother who is quick to temper and quick with the rest of her emotion but my father he bottles things up and up and up until the pressure builds and he explodes. I do the same thing with my thoughts and feelings. For a long time now I haven't really wanted to write—actually I haven't really wanted to do much of anything—but suddenly I do! I really want to get the things stuck in my head, out! I look at the things that my friends write, the poetry, the prayers, the ways things seem to flow so beautifully and suddenly I don't seem worthy of writing, my words don't come out smoothly seemingly given to them from the mouth of God himself. My words seem so regular so normal, and I didn't want to share my words if they weren't going to be something special. But something happened, something happened and it doesn't so much matter anymore what words I use, as long as they are the right ones. I look in the mirror and I don't see my dreams looking back at me anymore, they are slipping away and I don't want life to kill my dreams. I don't want to grope and grasp at them fading in front of my eyes something is rising up inside of me and I don't want it to stop. I told my mother I only have small wishes, I want my family to be happy—I mean true happiness—I want us to be healthy, I want a floor and a new sofa for my mother, a really good camera, my great friends... I have small wishes. My mother looked at me in the eyes and said, maybe that is the problem, you need to WISH BIG. I thought about it, and I see what she means now. I don't have the faith in God to give me the greatest desires of my heart, why should I? I don't deserve the big things, the great dreams, the happiness, because there are so many people who are so much more deserving. Why WHY would God give me more, when I have so much? I am not dying, I am not hungry, I have my family, and my home, why should I deserve anything more? I fight with him on this one, back and forth a lot when we talk. He knows I will never leave him, he knows I am here, I tell him that I can live with the pain, and the sickness, I can be complacent and never reach my dreams if only he will make the ones I love happy and healthy, if only he will care for them, it will be okay. I think maybe I am wrong though, I think God is like my mother; she is so broken hearted when I am sick, she gets so angry, she prays and prays for my pain to end...she wants my happiness. You know what, I get it now... why I deserve those things rising up in my heart; He is my father, my parent, and no parent gives something to one child and withholds it from another, no matter how deserving or undeserving. Not truly, not if they really love them, it's my faith...my love thats the problem, not his. I haven't given up. I may never get it all, but I am gonna try, I am not going to live like I am sick, but instead, I am going to live like I am dying. I am going to live my life like at the end of the day it might end, because I don't want to look back—weather or not I get wish, and live my dream—and see that I didn't live the life that God gave me. I have the faith of a mustard seed with My Great Fathers love I believe that it will grow.
