a sunday in july.

there are moments in life
that don't feel real as you're living them.
you feel like you're out of your body
and you're watching and you're thinking,
"no. this isn't real. this doesn't happen in real life."
but it did.

so you push those moments down.
you hide them away in a bag inside a box inside a closet inside a room inside your mind
because you don't want to remember.
because your heart can't handle the feelings that will surface when you do.
but you have to remember.
you have to recall.
you have to write it down.

a month and some days go by
and you find yourself in front of a blank screen,
the cursor blinking, waiting for you to unlock that room and open that door.
waiting for you to find that box you buried so you can open the crumpled bag.
a month wasn't enough time for dust to collect
but you go through the motions as if there were dust to clean.
you sit there, with that moment in your hands
and you let it seep back into your heart.
you close your eyes and remember.
a tear slips out.
then another.
then some more.

your heart is beating.
no - it's pounding.
"stop. please. don't feel this again.
don't remember. just forget.
it's so much easier if you just forget."
but you can't and you shouldn't.
because the pain and the tears and the cries
that littered that downtown driveway
are the fuel you need to keep writing.
to keep fighting.

you will never stop fighting.
you will never stop believing.
you will never stop hoping.

soon.
it'll all be over soon.

hormones have taken over my heart.

"what do you need?"

"i think i'm just going to cry for a bit."

"do you want me to hold you?"

before i could nod 'yes'

he wrapped me in his arms.
i felt small and scared and safe.
my brimming tears broke free
and stained my face with worry.
between stuttered sobs
i felt peace come back.

24 to 48 hours. that's what they said.

my abuelito is in the hospital.

my 95 year old grandpa

who talks like he's in the mafia,

blasts his music like a teenager,

and cheats at blackjack,

 is sick.

he's sick

and he's not getting better.

i'm afraid if he goes,

the floodgates will open

and heaven will call all my favorites 

home.

i'm not ready for this.

i'm not ready for death to start playing.

i'm not ready to say goodbye.

it feels selfish of me to keep saying "i"

like i'm the only one that hurts.

and it's unfair to focus on future losses

that shouldn't even be thoughts.

but that's what death does.

it knocks and knocks 

and forces you to listen.

 it rips open your heart and injects 

a fear that spreads like fire.

my mom,

my angel of a mother,

has been taking care of him

round the clock for over a year.

she is so strong.

she is so sweet.

she is so selfless.

i don't know how she does it.

watching my uncle cry,

listening to my mom and her siblings

talk to him about everyday things

like shaving or summer plans,

trying to convince him everything is okay

adds salt to the wound.

i never thought i'd think

95 is too young.

but it is.

it really, really is.

wiiknd: my heart felt every emotion in one day.

work.

news.
heartbroken.

check in with cami.

30 miles north = instant relief.

lunch break = non-stop tears and news watching.

after work = non-stop tears.

i can't even...

"just hold me."

half-day at work.

family time.

christmas shopping fail.

mallrats. everywhere.

work party.

musicals.

cold war jokes.

yw freak out.

unsure/lost/sad/confused.

"just love me."

bi-week.

baby holding.

cheek smushing.

jesus dinner.

it's a wonderful life.

sick ginger.

nyquil shots before bed.

ain't no sunshine.

i spent my wednesday night in a cabin

at a young women's retreat.

i slept alone in a twin-sized bed

underneath a loft of girls who didn't stop giggling

until two:thirty in the morning.

i slept in a wrinkly sleeping bag 

on a pillow that was too fluffy.

wednesday night was my first night sleeping alone 

since august 9.

wednesday night was the worst.

it's friday 

and instead of gearing up for a whirlwind

of new girl, football games, cleaning and cuddling,

i'm forcing myself to smile.

cory's going hunting this weekend.

this morning was the longest goodbye.

i didn't want to let go.

i hate that i had to.

the apartment felt empty when he left.

but it wasn't normal kind of empty.

it's the kind of empty you feel

when the arms that hold you every night

won't be able to.

the kind of empty you feel 

when your heart cries a little 

because you won't be able to look into your favorite eyes, 

or hear your favorite laugh, or see your favorite face.

it's an awful kind of empty.

sunday can't come soon enough.

i just couldn't yesterday.

with everything going on,

i can't help but feel helpless.

i want to fix everything,

hug everyone,

tell them it will be okay,

but i can't.

instead,

 my temper is short.

i get upset over vegetables

and cry when i watch videos of stranger's babies

and grey's anatomy.

i know marrying you won't fix everything.

it won't stop my parents from moving,

it won't heal my sister,

it won't get me a job,

and it won't make me less dramatic,

but it will help.

it will help because i will have you.

you can dull the heart hurt.

you can calm my worries.

you can give me strength.

three weeks.

three weeks and i get to be with you every day.

not just weekends or holidays.

|monday|tuesday|wednesday|thursday|friday|saturday|sunday|

>>repeat>>

three weeks and i'll be yours

and you'll be mine

and it will stay that way 

even after we die. 

the reality of forever is beautiful.

documentation.

 mascara was everywhere.

wiped across my shirt,

tattooed on my arm,

smudged under my left eye.

my red nose matched 

 the thin red line that framed my swollen lips.

that's what happens when i cry.

my lips get bigger and everything turns red.

there is no hiding my emotions.

ever.

i worry.

it's what i do.

i worry too soon,

i worry too much,

i worry to the point of tears.

sometimes everything can be too much

 and lately, 

"sometimes" seem to come around all the time.

praying for a break

 in these back-to-back obstacles is useless.

not because i think my prayers will go unheard,

but because i know there is something i need to learn.

it's a learning game.
it's a waiting game.

it's a faith game.

i get it, i really do.

i know later on i'll be grateful for these experiences

and the lessons i learned.

i know these moments will make me better.

they will make me a stronger, more patient person.

i get it.

but later isn't here yet. 

and right now, 

i wish it were someone else's turn to bat. 

sidenote[s]:

i understand that someone is always up to bat. 

i'm not alone in this trial crap-fest.

but when you're in the moment, stuck in the middle of all this stress, you feel like the only one.

selfishness at it's best. 

also, i hate baseball. 

please don't ask why i chose to make that analogy. it's simply the best sport to relate to life. 

bats, bases, home, strikes, tight pants...

it just works. 

someone, please, make my heart stop beating so fast.

it was amazing.

i realize i'm behind the curve.

it's fine.

i don't care.

my heart, oh my heart.

it's aching. 

i knew the ending.

i knew jack died.

i just didn't know how.

i didn't know the details.

i didn't know their love.

and what a love it was.

i bawled like a baby. 

so many times.

i didn't really cry when he died.

i cried before.

i cried because it wasn't fair.

because i knew their love would survive, but he wouldn't. 

my heart hurt so much for them.

i clutched my chest as the tears flowed.

i watched them fight for life. 

for love. 

i cried for all the lives lost.

the families separated.

the people who didn't make it.

the people who didn't stand a chance. 

here i am.

sitting in my apartment at 12:53 in the morning,

crying my eyes out.

it might sound silly, 

but it was so real for me.

that love. 

that unwavering love was so strong.

"i trust you."

and this,
this may very well be the most perfect,
heartbreaking moment i've ever seen.
the couple holding each other in bed.
the mother comforting her children.
ah.
i need to stop.
i'm bawling again.

el fin.

it's official.

michael g. scott 

is gone.

left the building.

moving to boulder.

and i bawled.

like a baby who's teething.

i cried harder during this episode 

than i did during lost.

my heart is officially broken.

oh, and i hate will ferrell now. 

goodnight moon.

surrounded by four tan walls that used to be 

a sanctuary from the world,

from the secret whispers

and the heartache.

walls that know hot, flowing tears

and a desire for change.

that have seen the lowest

and darkest corners a heart can house. 

walls that hold dreams

and the promise of hope.

four walls that remained constant

when everything shifted.

walls that offered nothing 

but a room to sleep away the old

and wake up to a new day,

a clean slate

and a fresh start. 

necessary overload.

one of my good friends brought this to my attention.

just thinking about it genuinely makes my heart ache.

how can people in today's world be so ignorant and inconsiderate?

every comment i read makes me more infuriated.

here is her portion of our conversation.

.....

so every year we have a spirit bowl

where the sophomores wear red juniors wear white and seniors wear black.

so some kid wore a kkk outfit and 

yelled "white power" and ran through the assembly.

one of the black kids got pissed

because the kkk kid was getting a slap on the wrist.

he was back in class like an hour later

making fun of the black kid.

so he wrote a blog but tons of alta students think it's dumb that he's mad

and to just take it as a joke.

i mean some of my friends that have graudate friends are talking about it now.

but it seems like the ONLY kids that are bugged about it are the brown kids

which make up 1% of the student population.

everyone else keeps saying to get over it

it's so stupid

like seriously i don't know how you can just say it doesn't matter

there are pictures of burning crosses circulating around the school now.

people keep telling him that he's blowing it out of proportion 

but I liked what this one chick said as far as larz “blowing it out of proportion”,

what exactly was he supposed to do?

sit there and take it? 

several people mentioned being able to take care of it behind closed doors with the administration. 

as i understand it, the administration DID speak to the student involved,

and then released him back to class with no repercussions.

at that point there was much laughing over the incident

and even subsequent facebook posts about how funny it was. 

those are the things that prompted further action from larz and his family.

when my little brother told me that this kid ran out with a kkk hood 

my first thought was "someone punched him right"

but no, they all cheered him on.

other than one or two people the ONLY people from Alta who care about it are non white people

if one of the sophomores wore a "bloods" outfit and were all about red pride

that kid would have been kicked out so quickly.

this is what one of the star football players from my class said

"it didn't really exist before this "incident". 

it's just a kid crying for attention... and he got it."

when talking about racism at the school

it just frustrates me

like how can people really feel this way

getting mad at the black kid?

most everyone from where I live is just mad at him

and saying that he is just trying to get fame and fortune

are you kidding me?

that's just standing up for something that is right

if he hadn't done it in the first place nothing would have happened

what really makes me mad

is that because i'm brown it's like

"well of course you're mad cuz you're brown"

but I believe that 

everyone should be mad about it.

.....

THIS IS NOT A CRY FOR ATTENTION.

it's a serious issue.

we are supposed to be the changed generation.

the generation who accepts everyone regardless of color.

it makes me sick to think how ignorant

people in this day and age are.

attn: kylee and anyone that hasn't finished lost, DO NOT READ.

i cried

like a baby.

little sunbeams.

tonight i needed home.

i needed it so badly.

i wanted to go. 

leave and never come back.

thinking this would make everything better.

making myself believe the four walls and roof i call home 

filled with the people who unconditionally love me would cure my heart hurt.

but while i was writing jamie i realized no matter where i run,

my troubles will chase me.

i can't run. 

i have to face life. 

i am so grateful for technology

and the comfort of knowing my parents are one dial away.

their words calmed my troubled heart,

replaced the frown on my heart with a smile

and dried my tears with the promise of a new day.

iMiss..

my {gorgeous} seesters.

 my {brown} hipster. 

|[like w.o.a.h.]|

can i go home now please?

empty words

i don't know what to do about this.

so i think i'm just going to pray.

pray and hope everything works out.

and then the gray turned to gold.

yesterday i was in an awful state.

i didn't want to do anything.

 thankfully i have been blessed with some incredible friends

who knew just what to say, how to say and when to say it.

here's what made yesterday bearable:

wolf-pack

cherry pepsi

home depot

taylor maid

complimentary colors

fhe

john mayer

moustaches

karen carpenter

christmas music 

mtc adventures

whistling

gangstas

mashed potatoes

yes, i am grateful for my friends.old and new.

they saved me.

dear baby brother: i miss you.

Elder James Porter 

reported to the MTC last Wednesday to prepare to serve the people of Chihuahua, Mexico.

November 03, 2010 

has been one of the hardest days of my life.

 

 i know he'll do great.  

i know this experience will make him grow and learn.

he's going to come back a better person and a better man because of this.

but it doesn't change the fact that last night while i was driving home,

i wanted to call my jamie and tell him about my day 

and ask him about his 

but i couldn't.

because he's gone.

he's only a few minutes away

but it feels like he's in a different world.

because he is.

cross your fingers that these next two years

go by with lighting speed.

.................

i love you jamessicles. 

bless those brits.

we need to talk.

oh hello.
i just wanted to say hi.
and that i'd like to have a little chat with you.
maybe to say hello,
explain,
apologize...
but mostly just to see you again and try to fix my mistake.
meet you at the lake in an hour.
xoxo.
b. 

{via}

solo

Blogger.com is being a little ri-tard right now, but I want to blog, so I have to write my little thoughts out on Microsoft Word.  So please excuse the proper capitalization at the beginning of every sentence.  {sometimes that bothers me}. 

Okay kids, here’s the deal.  Everyone is gone. EVERYONE.  I am alone in my apartment until Beth comes back on Sunday.  I don’t like it.  I wish that everyone could just stay.  There are so many people I am going to miss because they are leaving Provo or they are moving away from the Riv.  It’s not fair.  Why can’t things just stay the same?  Why does everything start getting perfect and then BAM!  life has to go and screw things up.  My friends are leaving me.  We’re going to grow and learn and experience a lot of different things this summer.  We’re going to go through a lot of things without each other. 

My people will come back to me, but it’s not going to be the same.  We won’t live in our little complex anymore.  We’ll be scattered all over this little corner of the valley.  It hurts.  It scares me.  Right now, I am not a fan of change.  I want to rewind these past three months and play them over again.  I want my friends to stay and for us to have an endless summer. 

i.don’t.like.this.hurt.