With open arms and open eyes
For weeks, I have been completely excited. I've planned a huge party, and I have it on very good authority that it's going to be awesome. Secretly though, I have always disliked my birthday...and for one reason.
My mother.
Believe it or not, there was a time in my life when I didn't speak to her for years. She never called on holidays, never called on my birthday, and never called 'just because'. It was almost like she'd forgotten I'd even existed, and when you're ten years old....that hurts. From the time I was fourteen until now (on the eve of my 21st birthday) I can count on one hand the amount of times I've seen her. At best, she now calls me once a year on my birthday (and that has only started in the past three years) and otherwise, I might as well have turned back into the non existent daughter. My birthday has always been a painful reminder of everything that has happened over the years, and it's almost like I wish I could bypass this day and pick another day. A completely random day in which to celebrate life. My life. I suppose that's why I decided last year that the entire month of December was mine. This year, I have scaled in down quite a bit and am only claiming the weekend as mine....because I think I deserve it. Or at the very least, I need it that way.
Tomorrow, I am supposed to go to church and say goodbye to a special family. The mother, Wendy, called me this week because she hadn't seen me in awhile and was worried. This family has five children all under the age of 9, and at some point in the last two years, I have had every single one of those kids in the classes I used to teach. They're an amazing family, and it pains me to say goodbye.
I've almost decided not to go.
Church has become toxic to me in the months since my return from California. I've realized that my relationship with God is much bigger than anything that can be contained within those walls, and I feel it almost an insult to my growing knowledge to sit there. I want to come to God on my own terms, and I don't want to be as easy as walking into a building and sitting there. I have an almost "hippie" mentality in that all I want to do is be outside and kicking leaves on Saturday....I haven't been to church much since I've been home. Maybe twice; and yet, I truly do love God...he just exists in my own little world.
It's nearly 10pm on Friday night. And I'm home.
I worked all day, counted the minutes until I could leave, and hightailed it on outta there. I've hardly slept in two weeks, and there are days when I go without any sleep at all. Or so it would seem. I was trying to explain the difference between West Coast and East Coast today...and I could tell my point wasn't getting across. The funny part? I didn't expect it to, nor did I care. In my mind, the differences are so numerous and huge that no amount of explanation could do them justice.
They just are.
This is turning into an awkward sort of entry. So I'm stopping now. Goodnight.
