What would have been the second half of my sophomore semester has been an effective learning/growing experience.  I began these months wishing to get rid of the pain from last semester.  I have a friend I value more than anything.  I mean, more accurately, I love her.  Last semester tore everything apart.  It's a long and painful story of my mistakes and moments of weakness, unrequited love and miscommunication. In the end, two friends who liked hanging out together couldn't repair what was broken.  My negative traits shined like the bat signal while the good went unseen.  I became a weak, pitiful man in her eyes, a childish creep.  I pleaded, remember ME, see who I am, not my flaws.  In the end, that's all I could see as well.

Now, due to financial issues, I have just finished a semester off of school.  A semester where I remembered why I needed to get away from this home, but was unable to aside from the occasional weekend visit with my friends at school.  Not only did I hate myself because of what I had done, but I lost self esteem because I was back with those who showed me no support aside from a bit of financial backing.  I would actually catch the occasional spontaneous sobbing breath mid day.  I remembered the fact that the worst case scenario had come true every time I heard a love song or watched a movie with any romance at all.  I spent every night staying up late into the night thinking of all my flaws and just hoping for something to tell me that I'm not the most worthless person.  I would question what I could have possibly done to deserve all of this, I'm a nice guy, I do nothing to offend anyone, but the moment mess up, I get treated like a pedophile/murderer.  I wanted to be in a band once, I was basically told I'd just get laughed at.  My brother and his band got full support.  I'm moderately talented, but nothing I do will even get the attention of my friends.  Overall, I felt completely, undoubtedly unlovable.

But in the darkest months of my life, I saw the parts of me that I can be proud of.  I saw myself through the negative.  At this time, I know exactly who I am.  I truly value people.  I genuinely love my friends.  Even those who have are broken in areas, I want to help them, I really want to help them through whatever they're going through, and I don't care if they return the favor.  I just don't want to see them hurt.  I'm not shallow.  I am far more attracted to inner beauty than physical beauty.  Sure, I like the look of a "perfect" body, it's in my genes, but I would NEVER fall for someone with only a good body.  I don't care who thinks it's impossible, at college, I saw countless women with the figure of an Olympian goddess, but I wasn't impressed because in their eyes I saw exactly what I needed to see.  What I saw in my friend was something so beautiful that I didn't want to lose it, it's actually part of the reason I faltered and she doesn't seem to be able to look at me anymore.  There's something to her that most men will never notice but will always look for.  Weeks ago, she had the same thing happen to her as I had happen to me last semester.  I could have celebrated this, could have thought, "now she knows how I felt" but, to my surprise, I didn't.  All I wanted to do was be there for her and help her through it.  But would she even accept my help?

I've learned to see my flaws and fight them, I can see each of my enemies lined up against me, and I can take them now.  I need only to face them when they strike.

I'm definitely not perfect.  I'm running so low on confidence, I can hardly convince myself to try sometimes.  I keep everything bottled up.  I get angry.  But I'm capable of unconditional love.  Somehow, despite all I've been through, I'm capable of truly loving people.  Platonic, mostly, but I love my friends.  I love her.  In a way where I want to see her happy even if it's not with me, as long as he treats her with the love she deserves, I'll be happy.  I'm creative.  I create complex stories full of complex characters, I can draw well and do interesting designs with great detail.  I can love God and not push that on anyone else.  I truly want to make this world a better place and I don't care how much it wants to make me suffer for that.

It took me months of feeling worthless to finally see that I'm not. 

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I waited for you at the bus stop.

You said we’d meet there for lunch, ride the bus downtown, then get something at that family restaurant you’ve been telling me about.  I waited through five buses.

You could have told me you weren’t interested.  I can take it, I’m a man, I can move on.  Yet you decided to toy with me.  I must admit, I can see how you’d find it funny.  I can see why I can be such a fun toy of yours that you’d test my limits.  I’ve waited through ten buses.

I should have figured that the loud bang wasn’t from the firing range, they don’t test their guns at noon.  And the fire trucks should have been a dead giveaway, the ambulance too.  I should have noticed the people fidgeting, spreading rumors about the explosion.  Yet all I noticed was that you weren’t here.

I should have figured Hamas would have responded this way.  Like animals, they don’t discriminate, man woman, old, young, anyone’s fair game, even you.  Now I wait by your hospital bed.  I look to the monitors, praying that they stay constant.  I’ll wait for you.

So this is something I wrote just thinking of ideas for my book.  In my story, there are areas outside of heaven where angels live like the people on earth.  Alana is a fallen angel who has returned to heaven. 

 

     Alana stood at the outskirts of the Holy Kingdom, staring across the vast landscape filled with forests, villages, rivers and valleys.  So many years had passed since she had last gazed across the brilliantly carved land.  However, the situation didn't allow her to stare.

     She ran at the cliff edge in front of her, leapt and spread her wings.  As the currents caught her, she pushed faster, as fast as she could go, winding between trees and crowds of angels that scattered in horror of her appearance.  The tattoos of the ritual covered her in black with a skeletal mask dyed into her face.  She broke through the canopy, looking along the horizon.  The city, the great city of Heaven, shined on the horizon.  She pushed up, cutting through the air as fast as she could. 

     "Stop! You, young cherubelle!" a patrolman shouted, chasing after her.  She pushed faster, hoping to lose him.  However, more joined, firing bolts and attempting to apprehend her.  They knew her face and she knew their brothers, sisters, mothers and fathers from the blood that stained her ragged clothes.

     She passed the city walls, gliding along the tall grass of the fields just outside the palace.  Human souls watched as she flew by, followed by the legions of heaven.  The palace gates opened as the guards moved to intercept her.  She flew through, barely escaping their blades.  She glided over the many guards as they shouted to one another, shifting direction.  She reached for the doors to the throne room as her vision blurred from pain in her right leg.  Catching herself on the opposite door, she threw it open, pulling herself toward the open doorway.

     A cloud of bolts stabbed into her.  Only a few missed.  She collapsed toward the opening.  She tried her legs, nothing, wings, nothing, arms, nothing, voice...

     "Fa...th...er," she wheezed, "f...a...ther...l...ord...Je...sus..." She put all her will into moving through the doorway.  Her shaking arms pulling herself slowly forward.  Her vision darkened as the bolts vanished and she was lifted from the floor.  Unable to move, she wait for her life to be ended.  Then, her eyes closed and the world around her vanished.

     Her eyes opened to the throne room.  She could move again, the wounds were gone.

     "L-lord?" she stammered.  He smiled turned from the bowl of bloody water.

     "Yes?" he asked.

     "I have sinned against you, I plotted to destroy you..."

     "When?"

     "Along with Azreal, years ago."

     "Oh, the past, I don't tend to dwell on it," he stated, sitting beside her, "So, you didn't come to attack me again, did you?"

     "No, I came to you to accept your judgement, however you wish to deal with what I've done."

     "Oh, alright," he shrugged.  She closed her eyes.  He hugged her, lifting her up as he laughed.

     "You came to me repentant, remembering your love for me.  You came to make up for what you've done, therefore, accept you as a daughter.  You are Alana, of the eastern villages, you are as beautiful as your mother, strong as your father, and unique in your loyalty," he stated.

     "Never to receive it in return...my mother and father abandoned me, leaving me to fend for myself until Azreal found me.  Then I thought I had a trusting leader, but when we failed, he abandoned me as well.  I spent years wondering if I was really worth anyone's love.  I'm too weak, too stupid, too...broken to be worth anyone's love.  I feel nothing of regret.  I ruined everything good in my life when I rebelled.  You say I'm beautiful, but I have scarred myself in the ritual, you say I'm strong, but I weakened myself for Azreal.  I...I'm tired of feeling like this, like nothing I do will ever do any good.  Like I'm just a drain on all around me...just end my life, make it so that I never existed."

     "What about Parlu?  the girl your life has become an inspiration to?  What about the children you helped when you were homeless?  You are an inspiration to so many, are you sure you want to be removed?"

     "They'll find someone else."

     "There is no one else for the job.  You are the only Alana of the fifth legion."

     "Lord..."

     "The future holds so much for you, just wait for it," he assured.

     "Alright," she smiled.  He wrapped his arms around her, sending a wave of warmth across her body.  Over his shoulder, he could see her reflection in the mirrored walls.  The tattoos were gone, every scar, wound and mark of rebellion had been removed.  "Where do I go from here?"

     "Wherever you want."