Why do I write?
I've hid behind witty comments and sarcastic responses for most of my life.
Talking about my feelings has never been something I was good at.
I've built this reputation for being happy all the time, making others laugh, and generally brightening up a room. I'm not bragging, I swear. This is just a mask. This is my shield, my curtain, my escape. I'm terrified that someone one day might see the real me and run. No body really knows me unless they see my writing.
Writing is my counseling, my comfort, my companion.
Writing is the only way I feel comfortable being me.
Writing is the only way I feel like myself.
There's a woman.
She's beautiful in every sense of the word.
Her mind, body, heart, and soul.
In her presence, you can feel that she is a Christian woman.
She was beautiful when I met her,
Even more beautiful on her wedding day,
And now she's a mother.
Every photo of her holding her child
Is beautiful enough to make me want to sob.
It's plain to see that she was meant to be a wife and mother.
She has spent years of praying
And practicing being patient with the Lord.
Now she's married to her soulmate with a beautiful baby boy.
There's a woman.
She is an example.
She has shown how the Almighty works.
She showed such patience and understanding,
And God answered her prayers.
Dear Mom and Dad,
Do you know how strong I've been?
Do you know how hard it was to keep a smile on my face so that you wouldn't have to worry?
Do you know how many nights I cried myself to sleep?
Do you know how many times I locked myself in the bathroom to cry?
After all these years, I finally realize that I wasn't being strong for me.
I was being strong for you!
I didn't want to let you see how weak your daughter was, so I made a new one.
This daughter is strong.
This daughter won't break.
I'm numb after the years of hiding, but that's okay.
When I'm numb, that just means I can't feel the pain
Do you know how hurt I've been?
How could you not tell the difference between the broken me, t...
Dear Lettrs community,
I'm almost in tears reading the comments and seeing how many people liked my letter. You have no idea how long I've been ashamed of the darkness inside of me, how long I've been hiding it so that others wouldn't question me. But here I write the truth, the real me, and I get praise.
For the first time, I feel accepted.
When I wrote my first letter, I wasn't okay.
When I wrote my first letter, I felt alone.
When I wrote my first letter, I was almost too far gone.
I started to write because I needed to tell someone how I felt. Someone far away enough that it wouldn't feel real. I can't tell anyone I know. It's just too much. I've gone this long, I can't turn back now.
I write for me. I write to make other realities, better than this one, come to life. The realms of the impossible, the unknown. The ones where I can be me. The real me that was almost smothered into oblivion.
Writing keeps me alive.
Writing keeps me, Me.
Why do we refer to starting a family as "settling down"?
It sounds so negative.
I don't want to settle.
I don't want to find someone to share a life with that makes me feel safe, that makes me feel as if I have a part to play in this thing called life.
I want someone that makes my stomach do back flips.
I want someone who makes my palms sweaty and my heart race.
I want someone that I love so much that it drives me mad.
I want to look at that person and feel terrified at the thought of losing them.
I want to love them so much that it hurts.
I want to look at them and sob at how beautiful their soul is.
I want to see God looking through their eyes.
I don't want a fairytale kind of lo...
I just spent the last five minutes composing a letter about all my problems, past and present, until I saw the date on this letter. It's independence day. The day we should be celebrating our country, and most people are drinking and blowing crap up. As the sister of two soldiers, I wish I could write a letter to America. To HER. I wish I could talk to my country. Ask her how she feels about how she's being honored. So, here's to you, America. I'm sorry things have gone down hill. I'm sorry we have smudged your name. Those stars and stripes still mean something to me. They still stand for something. Something much greater than fireworks, beer, and cute swimsuits. Here's to you, America.
It all started with a phone call.
Mother's face was all distorted.
Why is she crying?
Words words words.
I hear them, more so I feel them.
Nausea overpowers the urge to cry.
Shaking uncontrollably, I fight the cries of my stomach.
I can't break down.
Little by little, my heart continues to break.
When I think of my brother's life,
ending so violently,
or his daughter, who constantly asks why the bad man had to take her father away.
Now we watch the news twist the stories, vomit out lies, spit on my brother's name.
All because the only person alive who can tell us what happened, is the man who murdered my brother.
I must have written about you a thousand times.
Here we are again. I'm watching you sleep, next to me, making soft noises as if you're having a bad dream. I don't wake you up anymore because if I let the dream take course, and you wake up scared, I can comfort you. You let me see under that hard outer shell for just a moment, just long enough to let me hold you close until you fall asleep against my chest. A year ago, I was driving myself crazy trying to forget you. Trying to pretend I'm not madly in love with you.
Well, my darling, here we are. Madly in love. I try to make you fall in love with me all over again everyday, yet I'm always the one that falls deeper in love with you. You are m...
I'm in trouble.
I knew I was in love with someone else before you ever asked me out.
Only, I didn't realize it would grow into this consuming cloud that hangs over my head, threatening to devour me at any moment.
You're by far the sweetest guy I've dated, and you still believe in chivalry.
I think you look at their relationship and start to make comparisons.
We are nowhere near to the same point as them, but they've also been together much longer.
When you try to put your hand on my knee, on my shoulder, or hold my hand, I try to avoid it without it looking obvious.
I want to tell you how I feel, I just don't know how to.
Not only because I don't want to hurt you, but also because I ...
"Lucy, when's the last time you went to one of your doctor's appointments?"
"Good morning. I slept fine, thanks for asking. Why, yes! I would love some coffee." Alex rolls her eyes as I make my way to the coffee pot beside her.
As she pours that dark, liquid heaven into my mug, she repeats, "When's the last time you went to one of your doctor's appointments?"
This time I roll my eyes and ignore the question. I take my seat at the dining room table, open the paper, and sip away at my steaming coffee.
The silence becomes unbearable. I pear over the top of my paper to see Alex glaring at me.
Truth be told, I haven't gone for a follow-up in almost 3 years. I shouldn't even be alive right ...
There she is...
"Lucy!" I exclaim as I run down the steps to the taxi that just returned my best friend. "Where in God's name have you been? Did you forget how to use a freakin phone?"
"Nice to see you too, Alex."
She's smirking. I can't believe this; she's actually smirking after the crap she's put me through??
I walk right up to her and give her a good shove.
"What the hell?" Lucy half yells as she stumbles backwards, falling against the door she just recently climbed out from.
"Do you realize it has been 18 months since I've spoken to you?? For all I knew, you could have been dead already!"
"I know, and I'm sorry. Doesn't it count for anything that I'm back now??"
"No." Even as I ...
Do you remember valentine's day?
Do you remember that night we spent together?
Do you remember how it felt to be so close?
We haven't spoken alone since that night.
I walk past you everyday, and I feel like just another student. I hate that. When did I quit being special to you? Yesterday I heard something that lifted my heart, introduced hope to my soul once more. I had been so set out getting you out of my head, but maybe I don't have to. Maybe you have your reasons for pushing me away, and I won't question you.
Please, give me a sign. Anything to suggest that this isn't over, that this isn't how this ends for us.
I'll wait. Always.
So, last night after church, I really wanted to message you, but it was really late and it was taking me forever to type what I had to say. Basically I wanted to tell you that I've been really emotional the past week, Jason called me out on it last Wednesday, and so last night's alter call was sure to be an emotional one. One that promised tears. I was sitting there, thinking about everything that has been bothering me - and no tears. I remember sitting there thinking how weird it was since I never leave the alter without crying. Then I remembered something Miriam had said about finding an old certificate that you had signed for her, so your name pops into my head, and I'm like, "Okay, if any...
My school is amazing.
Yes; it is flawed. God, is it flawed.
There are so many negative qualities that anyone could point out
But what is the point in that?
We are notorious for raising money and awareness for all types of cancer during Pink-Week.
Our student body is amazing.
Yes; they are flawed. God, are they flawed.
There are so many negative qualities that anyone could point out
But what is the point in that?
Our school had a bomb threat two weeks ago.
We went on lock down, sat in class rooms, were escorted to secure buildings on campus, waiting to hear that we were safe.
One week later, we had an assembly.
The majority of time in that assembly was used to share stories about how d...
Eighteen months. Lucy has been gone eighteen months.
First of all, I found her spare key under a fake rock. Seriously, Lucy, what the hell? I've been living in her apartment, paying her bills, watering her plants. I've been waiting for her to come home or for her to return a text, call, or email. She could at least write me a letter for Christ's sake.
Here lately I've been thinking about giving up. She obviously didn't want me in her life or she wouldn't have left. If she wants to forget me so bad then fine. I'll disappear. I'm just terrified that I'll spend the rest of my life waiting for Lucy Zager to walk through that door, and she'll be dead somewhere in an unmarked grave.
I can't d...
Where is he? I've searched everywhere for this mystery man. God told me to save him, yet I can't seem to get any help from the Big Man Upstairs himself.
Where is He? I've been serving God my whole life, following His ways, doing His work. Where is He when I need Him most. He throws this image at me and expects me to kill myself trying to find him just to save his life.
I abandoned the only friend I've ever really had. Alex stood by me through the impossible, yet here I am, ignoring her calls and running from her.
My only shot at happiness is waiting for me back at home.
What am I doing? God obviously doesn't have time for me, so why should I finish this stupid job? I'm...
That's how long I've been driving around the United States trying to find the man in my dream. The one I'm supposed to save.
I would have given up the first month if I hadn't continued to have the same dream. Each night, more and more details are revealed. I've traveled state to state, waiting for a sign that I'm either close or I need to keep looking. So far, it's been the latter.
Alex has left me several voice messages and some texts. About twice a month, she calls to check in. She tells me about any significant changes in her life. She asks me how the search is going even though I've never replied. At the end of each message, she asks me to call her. She says she misses th...
Alex is mad at me.
Ever since I told her that I would be willing to die to save a total stranger, she's been avoiding my calls. It has been four months since we've spoken face to face. She makes excuses not to hang out. The one friend I had in my life basically hates me now. It's completely unfair. Why doesn't she understand that I can't complain about this gift?
I asked God to make my short time left on earth more meaningful by giving me the power to heal others and take their pain away. I asked that each life would be longer in exchange for mine becoming shorter. I would ultimately give years of my own life away to strangers. I asked for this. I can't call it off just because I'm finally...
"You were right. The first time I prayed for you, it changed something about you. You will not die of anything other than natural causes OR another stab wound. That woman from the accident, she will only die of natural causes or a laceration of the neck."
"Okay... so why do you look so worried?"
"There's something else. It seems to not only work on dying or injured people."
"What does that mean? Who else would it affect?"
"If somebody were to die before their time and it's been less than 24 hours since their heart stopped beating, I can heal them."
"You mean... bring them back alive. You can bring dead people back to life??"
"Yes, but the consequences will be more severe than anything ...
Me and Alex spent the whole night talking. We laughed more than I thought we would given the circumstances.
We walked around the city for about 45 minutes after we left the diner. Some how, we end up at my apartment. After several minutes of arguing about what to watch, we decide to watch a scary movie neither of us had heard of. So we lay there, on my couch, watching cheesy scary movies. I've been alone for so long I thought I would never have a relationship with someone like this again. I forgot how good it felt.
The movie ends. We agree that this would be a regular thing. Plans are set for next week, and then you leave. Again.
Strange. I feel so protective over you.
I walk to my ro...
Alex is alive, but how? I didn't even touch her. I need to find her. Where are my keys? I don't even remember setting them down when I walked in.
I am on the floor looking under the bed when I hear someone knocking on my door. I walk over to look through the peephole.
"What the hell happened back there? How are you alive?"
"I don't know. It felt just like the first time you saved me. I've been thinking about it, and I think I have a theory. What if the first time you prayed over me, it changed me? Maybe it's a lifetime warranty kind of deal."
"So... you think you're immortal now?"
"Not exactly. God wouldn't give you the gift to make others immortal. Maybe it'...
I can't believe it... she's alive. It worked. But I didn't pray for Alex.. I saw her. She was dead. But the news just said she was alive.
Then the screen switches to another reporter. He's standing next to Alex. She's standing there, alive, and I still can't believe it.
"Multiple witnesses say they saw the impossible today. Two men claim you were dead when they pulled you from your vehicle. They checked your pulse; your heart literally stopped beating. How can you explain this phenomenon?"
"There's a very special person watching over me. That's all there is to it. God has sent a guardian angel to save lives and souls."
"So is it safe to say you believe what Nancy Culp said about the stra...
I walk home with the weight of the world on my shoulders. I walk until I find my bed. Sleep. That will help make this pain go away, right?
I don't know how many hours have gone by while I was asleep, but it's now dark outside. I stumble out of bed and into the living room. I flop onto the couch and turn on the television. The news. Might as well catch up on current events.
The images flash across my screen. I almost change the channel. They're covering the crash down the street. I see the pictures of the two women come up. Wait... what did that say?
I turn the volume up just in time to hear, "doctors thought for sure that it was too late, but sure enough, both women are doing well. Their...
(valentine's day part two)
You grab my wrist and pull me on top of you.
At first, I don't think much of it. Assuming that you're still half asleep.
Then we start kissing.
Your hands start to move from my neck to my shoulders, down the side of my ribs, my hips..
When I feel your fingers slipping under my waste band, I finally realize what is happening.
I knew it was a matter of time.
We continue kissing as we lose more and more articles of clothing.
The next several hours were the best of my life.
We wake up the next morning intertwined into each other.
Our bodies fit like pieces of a puzzle.
Laying there, making small talk, neither of us want to get up.
Neither of us want to end this p...
I just got home.
The first thing I thought to do was write.
I hate weekends because they keep us apart, but this one was different.
When I asked if I could stay at your house for Valentine's day, they didn't expect it to be for a romantic evening.
I surprise you at your front door with roses, a box of chocolates, and your favorite Mel Gibson movie.
You pull me through the door by the collar of my shirt.
I close the door behind me before you start taking things out of hands and pushing me against the wall.
We've been in this exact position many times before, yet this time it's different.
This time, we won't be interrupted.
This time, we're at your home.
This time, we ...
I run up to the first burning car. There are two men trying to pull a woman from the vehicle. She looks to be unconscious. After a few minutes of untangling and pulling, they carry her to the sidewalk. When they run off to help someone calling their names, I move in.
The woman looks to be in her late 40's. She has a gash on her head and another on her neck. There is so much blood. More than the stab wound from this morning...
"Ma'am, can you hear me?"
Her eyes flutter open. I ask the same question I asked Alex, "Are you a Christian?"
Her head moves slightly, which made more blood gush out of her neck wound. "Woah, woah. Okay, how about you blink twice for yes. Once for no. Sound good?"
I must have wandered the streets for hours. I felt a deep pain in my gut -- hunger. When was the last time I ate?
I walk back to my apartment, fix myself a Gormet lunch of Ramen noodles and a grilled cheese, followed by my medicine. I sit in my kitchen, where the only light is coming from a single window above the sink, and I think about everything that happened this morning.
While I'm picking at the meal I prepared, I hear a knock on my door. I look out the peephole only to see the back of some woman's head. She seems to be deep in thought. Her hands are on her hips, she keeps shaking her head. She begins to pace back and forth, and that's when I see her face. It's her. The woman from th...
The paramedic starts the protocol check up. He flashes a light in my eyes, checks for wounds and broken bones. Then he noticed the other woman. Covered in blood. He asks her to show him the wounds, and she tells him that there aren't any.
Confused, he asked, "What do you mean there aren't any wounds? I can see the blood soaked into your shirt!"
"I can't explain that. All I can tell you is that there aren't any wounds. Not anymore..."
"Somebody please explain to me what the hell is going on here!"
The pain starts to fade. I am able to stand once more. I lie and tell the paramedic that there was a misunderstanding. I saw the woman covered in blood and thought she was hurt. That is all I would g...
It started about a year ago.
I was diagnosed with grade III anaplastic glioma. This aggressive brain tumor changed my life. People looked at me differently, treated me different. I never wanted that.
My treatments were taking a toll on me, so I prayed. Hard.
But I didn't pray just for healing. I mean, at first that was all I prayed about. Then I started to pray for the supernatural. I prayed that God would give me a gift. That I could use my illness to help others. If my time on earth is going to be short, I might as well be helping others make their time last. I prayed that I could heal others, even if I had to take that pain unto myself.
One day, I woke up feeling good. I NEVER wake up f...