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Thankfully I’m Not Planning A Funeral, But…

Why is it that something like this to happen before we do the things we know we should be doing all along?

This post is part of my 30 day creative writing challenge. Click here to learn more about the challenge or here to explore the other posts in this series.

Today my heart is heavy. The thought that I should be making funeral arrangements keeps running through my mind. You see, I got a text yesterday letting me know that my dad had been in a motorcycle accident. And usually, a message like that is followed by really bad news.

But the worst of his injuries, as far as we can tell right now, are a broken leg, heavy bruising and some serious road rash. We just got back from the hospital, and don’t get me wrong, I am really happy that the injuries were not more severe, but I can’t help but think about how different this weekend could have been.

As I sit here and write my thought for the day, I can’t help to think about the possibility of life without my dad. Then I start getting mad at myself for being such a shitty son. How come I don’t call more, or visit more often? Why is it that something like this to happen before we do the things we know we should be doing all along?

He only lives four hours away and it took something like this for me to come visit. That’s the only thing going through my head right now. Mixed emotions and the thought that it easily could have been worse.

What if I wasn’t just coming to help him get around a bit while he gets used to walking around on crutches? What if I was here to handle funeral arrangements. What if I was here to see my dad for the last time?

I’m going to try and think about something else now. To not have those thoughts running through my head, but it is hard to push them from my mind. But as I push those thoughts from my mind, I wonder if anything will actually change moving forward.

Sure I’ll have this experience to remind me how much I love my family and how much I often take them for granted, but I have a sneaky suspicion that pretty soon, things will go right back to the way they were. I’ll head back home. His leg will heal. And the void in our relationship will return. We’ll go weeks without talking, I wont come visit and I’ll hate myself while doing it.

But maybe not. Maybe this is what we needed to remember how much we really matter to each other. Maybe we will find a way to make more time for each other moving forward. Or maybe, next time, I won’t be so lucky. Maybe the next call I get will be something more severe. And I will have to spend the rest of my life thinking about how I could have done something different. How I could have loved him more. And that is a pretty scary thought.

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A Family of Friends

If I shared this article with you directly it’s because you are part of my family of friends. Please take a moment to read it and then share it directly with those who are in your family of friends.

This post is part of my 30 day creative writing challenge. Click here to learn more about the challenge or here to explore the other posts in this series.

I don’t come from a big family, so over the years my friends have become my family.

In some ways that family is more important to me than the one I was born into. I mean… I don’t want to diminish the strength of blood relationships but that is not what this post is about.

This story is about the few people we encounter through the course of our lives, that make us feel as if we were meant to meet. Those people from whom you are incapable of withdrawing your unconditional love once it has been given. The people we call our best friends.

The family we are born into “requires” our love but we get to decide which of our friends “deserve” our love.

There may be nothing more powerful than picking the people you want to love in life. Then letting a few of them in to see the real you. The broken you.

See, we all put on a show for the world. We all want the public to see us one way, while in reality we live anther. Because who would accept us if we were really ourselves all the time?

It wouldn’t take long before we started getting into fights, and running into problems at work. We would start pissing people off left and right and eventually we would find ourselves all alone. So instead, we pretend.

We attempt to restrict our true selves. We pretend to comport in order to fit into the different communities in which we live. But there is a small group of people from which you need not hide.

The people who you would take a bullet for, and just as fast, punch in the face. Maybe even while laying in the hospital bed after taking that bullet. And you would throw that punch with confidence, knowing that they will love you anyway.

Because physical pain stands no chance when you make that kind of connection.

When you find someone who can make you smile from a million miles away. When you find someone who doesn’t even have to be in the same room to make you feel better about yourself. When you find someone who you can allow into the closest circles of these lies we love to live.

When you can find a person who decides to put you first, because they know that you have done the same for them.

When you can finally find, a family of friends.

 

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Today I’m Calling Out All of My Friends

This is the third post in my 30 day creative writing challenge. Click here to learn about the challenge or explore the other posts in this series.

Hello friends!

No, not you internet friends. This is not about you. I’m not trying to be rude, but this is my 30 day challenge and I’ll make you cry if I want to.

But seriously…

This post is specifically intended for my real world friends.

These words are for the people I hang out with on a regular basis. The people I eat with, drink with, and sometimes make bad decisions with. The people who know me outside of these short bursts of words that I regularly post online.

Mainly, I want to tell you that I love you.

But keep reading. For real though. Or I’ll cut you!

I know I can be a dick, and sometimes you probably just want to smack me upside the head. But I’m glad you don’t. Otherwise I’d probably have to walk around with a helmet on.

To the girls: Sorry if you catch me sneaking a peek! I’m a guy, and you’re hot. Maybe next time don’t let it all hang out. Wait, what am I talking about? Ignore that last line.

To the guys: Sorry I’m smarter and funnier than you. I have a few extra pounds to make up for and really, it wouldn’t be fair if I was this awesome and in great shape.

Shit, there I go being an ass again. See, I can’t seem to help myself. I really do love all of my friends though, like a vegan loves vegetables. Like a prostitute loves penicillin. Like Asians love rice!

But does any of this even matter? I know a few of you read my blogs because you tell me now and again, but what about the rest of you? I could probably say whatever I wanted at this point and most of you would never know it.

It’s not like I expect you to read every article but hell, I write a shit ton. And the whole world seems to be watching, yet it often feels as though none of you care. We are friends right? Why don’t we talk more about what we can do for each other. How we can help each other get to where we are going?

So enough bitching, here is what I want you to do!

I want you to share something with me. It doesn’t have to be personal, and you don’t have to do it publicly. It doesn’t mean you need to sign up for my writing challenge (but you could subscribe to my email list), I just want you to connect with me at a deeper level.

I know we can’t always talk on the phone or get together face to face but we can at least take the time to share a few written thoughts with one another. At the very least we can take a second to say something meaningful to the people that matter in our lives. And that’s what this post is all about. To let you know how much I care.

To ask you to give me a part of you to hold and call my own. Let me know where you stand, so that I can come stand right beside you! I’m inviting you to share your dreams with me, and tell me how I can help you reach them. Tell me your biggest fears so that if they come up we can face them together. Tell me I suck so that I can get better, and please don’t get mad if I do the same.

Let’s make a deal to stay away from the drama. Let’s make a deal to always be real. Let’s make a deal to not be scared to tell each other how we feel. Because anything less than that would mean we aren’t really friends. And you just read this whole post so that seems pretty unlikely!

So keep on being you. Because you’re fucking awesome. Otherwise we wouldn’t be friends. So… there.

Anyway, I love you guys!

Now share the shit out of this post so I can get on Oprah in a couple months when it’s time to start selling my book! K-Bye now!

Don’t Let Them Die Before You Say Goodbye – By Julie Addicott

This is a submission from our 30 Days of Thought challenge. The only edits made have been to formatting and for appearance. All thoughts are strictly those of the author. You can learn more about the creative writing challenge by clicking here.

So here it is….

As usual I started writing and couldn’t stop, so this is only a very small part of my thoughts for today. I can’t promise that all of you who follow my page will like this post. But I will not apologize for using my voice.

DAY 1. – 30 Days of Thought.

…..it’s the harsh truth, AFTER DEATH everyone wants a piece of you, they want a memory, a possession, they want their turn to share in the grief, they want their turn to say “I loved you”. 
People die every day, for some it’s their time, some die suddenly, some die by their own hand. Some of these people are children. All of these people were loved by someone. And most of them may not have known that.

I remember in high school a boy who was always bullied, pushed around and teased because of how he dressed, what he looked like, where he lived. He died in a car accident. I didn’t go to his funeral but I saw the pictures in the paper, the pictures of those who had consistently bullied him, standing there at his funeral just meters from his heartbroken parents.

Why? Because he was dead. Plain and simple.

Had he lived, they wouldn’t be standing at his hospital bed wishing him well. Had he come back to school the day after the accident, unharmed, they would have continued bullying him.

IT IS WRONG!

Too many people die thinking they’re unloved, thinking they don’t matter. Because we’re too busy to tell them or show them. Why not say it while that person is alive, tell them you need them, tell them they what they mean to you, for gods sake don’t wait until they’re dead to say “oh by the way, I LOVED you”.

They won’t know, THEY ARE DEAD!!!!

Don’t stand over their grave and cry and say they meant the world to you. Don’t look at the ones they truly loved and say ‘you don’t know how I feel’. If you weren’t there for them during life, when they needed you, when they reached out to you, don’t say it when they’re gone. THAT IS NOT LOVE!

PAIN CHANGES PEOPLE
But ‪#‎LoveChangesPeople‬ too!

 

I’m Not Very Good At Love – By Blanca Lapin

This is a submission from our 30 Days of Thought challenge. The only edits made have been to formatting and for appearance. All thoughts are strictly those of the author. You can learn more about the creative writing challenge by clicking here.

I’m Not Very Good at Love…

Actually a better way to put that is, I’m not very good at being loved.

I’m an excellent lover. Wait, that came out wrong. Well, no it’s actually true but it’s not what I meant to express in this post (maybe another day).

What I’m trying to say is that I love and I love hard. I love with all that I am and with no reservations. I love everyone. In fact, have so much love to give that I can’t give it away fast enough but there are a few problems with that…

# 1 – I’m always so busy loving everyone else that I forget to love myself…

To take time for me, to do things that I enjoy

I’m a “pleaser” (not in that way – well again, yes but that’s another post), I want everyone to be happy around me and because of this, I lost myself in my marriage.

For 10 years I let him make all the decisions (from furniture to dinner and from vacations to car purchases). I always knew deep down that I wasn’t satisfied but I told myself that if he was happy then so was I.

Boy, was I wrong. I’ve been divorced for over a year now and I’m proud to say that I’ve gotten much better at loving myself. Admittedly, I still fuck up but I’m a thousand times better than I was.

# 2 – I no longer believe in “true love”

Let me make this clear, I’m not saying I don’t believe in love. I just no longer subscribe to the fairytale bullshit that Walt Disney fucking shoves down our throats before we can even walk.

Now before you start getting all upset, let me explain. Like I said, I love and I love hard and fast and with no abandon at all whatsoever. The thing is, I love lots of people…I do have one person that I love differently than any of the others, but that’s about as far as I’m willing to discuss that right now.

I expect everyone to let me down, and usually they do. So even though it hurts every single time, I know it’s coming so it doesn’t take me long to recover. Some of you will say that means that I never go “all in” and maybe that’s true, I don’t know, but it sure feels like I do.

# 3 – I believe in living life to the fullest

In experiencing all that it [life] has to offer and acting as if there is no tomorrow (and that includes sex)

As you can probably imagine, that means that the physical part of a new relationship happens fairly quickly. This does create a problem for me when I realize that I just slept with someone who doesn’t know the meaning of the word genocide. Just need to be more selective… lesson learned.

# 4 – I’m just plain scared

If you love me (or even if I think you might) then I’m gonna push you away. If you stay gone then I’ll be hysterical, but if you come back then something must be wrong with you. I’m pretty sure I don’t feel worthy of love so I try desperately to push away anyone who could possibly have real love for me. This is something I’ve gotta fix, and soon unless I want to end up as an old hag