I am lucky for an upbringing that resonated deep within my soul. The love that surrounded me in my youth has moved on past me as I aged. To be expected right?

There is no guarantee on who we become as we mature but the hope is how we are raised will resonate deeply. Deep enough to keep us somewhat in line. I think of how I was raised on how things are now. My Grandparents farm in the field that separated us or my youngest Uncle who lived with his family across the highway on hill. We used to be close. That was decades ago. I try to mend old wounds from the life I lived but some scars are to healed so what is the sense of reopening them?

My family is so separated it seems impossible to get our bond back on track. I tried but I have aged and it seems some people can’t forgive me for the life I lived. Forced into a sexual relationship at only 13 I was far too young to even understand. The cigarette burns that were a tell tale sign that I pissed my boyfriend off. I was told to always wear long sleeves and don’t talk to anybody at school. So I didn’t.

At a time I should have been making new friends I was trembling in my boots. I didn’t want anybody to notice me, if they did it would only lead to more hurt. The worse was the beating for talking to a friend. I think that is why my friend felt connected to me because he was the witness on the other end. As the lashing continued I cried out for help. That’s when my boyfriend noticed the phone in my hand and he took it to see who was on the other line. They were friends too so it helped.

What hurts me the most was the two girlfriends I had over back then. They were too busy trying to impress my boyfriend to even give me a hand. Their excuse. We were friends with him first. We will do as he tells us mentality. Who gives a dam about you. So I trusted no one. Not even my friends. I could tell they did not care about who I was or my inner being so I just held out to the end. Fleeing as fast as I could without even blinking an eye. I needed to put the past behind me I was so tired of these so called friends who got off watching me cry. Oh and they did. They knew I was week so they used that fact to their advantage. Kicking me down more often than not theirs no skin thicker or roots that bind me to this eternity.

I honor those who have passed on like I am clinging to air. Every chance I bring them to life one more time I do everything inside me to bring them to the surface and give their memory one more try. To say I miss some is an understatement. Sometimes I cry. Sometimes life. I let any emotion flow that finds me. I do know who I am and where I come from and I hope they appreciate what I do when I am alive. All I want is to make them smile one more time. Is that possible to do one more time before I die? I love you forever and always my friend. I try my best to remember the good times before you finally gave up fighting and laid down your head. Did I fail you or was it somebody else? I think that is why I try to remember the sound of your voice or the way you would smile when you tilted your head. I miss you forever till we meet again one day. I am thankful for the chance to get to know you and don’t regret a minute even with the sorrow in my heart and head.

How can some just move on through and forget. Like there isn’t an eternity of darkness coming or no more words to be said. Tears feel good as they wash away some sorrow. Music feels better though as it sings all the words I don’t know. Like a warm hug or a soft summer breeze, memories are there to guide us when nobody else believes. I wish those in life who loved me the most were still here. I have my mom that is for certain but I can’t name another after all those years. A soul I can trust is something that is so far behind. I mean people use whatever they can to hurt you so I move forward with hesitant ears. I can’t believe everything that is told to me nor do I try. Imagine who we would become if we believed all the lies.

I miss my Grandparents and I hope they are somewhere smiling down at me. They are the reason I am still living, even though they are not here and I am still trying to make them proud of me. Dying changes everything. It opened my heart and my eyes. It made me take a good hard look at myself and it made me stop believing all the lies. The charades that we play as we try to live another beings life. We are never happy with what we have, becoming miserable lusting after those that we know that do. I could keep on pretending to be someone I am not but I am tired of that version of myself and I waited a lifetime to be me. To live an honorable life while remembering those from above, I can’t think of a better way to honor those from above.