Spinning.

So it was like I got really tired, and there were finals, and moving...and I'm still not completely moved in yet, but yeah I just didn't want to blog for the rest of April so I chose not to. Does that make any sense at all? I failed my BEDA goal. Woohoo!! And that is that and now it's May. 

So do you think about life sometimes, and how odd and strange and unlikely things are? I mean, that doesn't really make sense right. With people it is harder too. Can you imagine how someone who is so important to you today can become so easily ignored with just the passing of time? And sometimes it's not on purpose, because things happen and people have to leave.

There have been a lot of people in my life, people who I was once close with that I have lost touch with. There was the Vietnamese boy from elementary school whose named I can't remember, who told me he was going to marry me in kindergarten, and who I remained friends with till fifth grade when he moved to a different state. I'd like to meet him again one day, see how he is, and see if he ever came out--because the whole marry me thing faded quick enough, and it was quite obvious the reasoning was in him being homosexual. He left his school jacket behind in the classroom; I took it and kept it for a while. But eventually, just like him, I lost it. Then there's my best friend from fifth grade, Josephine, who I went as far as calling strangers in the phone book with the same last name as her to find her. She was my first real best friend, or least someone who I consider today as the real concept of best friend, not someone who I knew for a few days and claimed was my best friend. Josephine and I had a real connection. And the phone number thing worked, I got in contact with her cousin who gave me her phone number. And for a bit we got close again, despite living an hour and half away. We even had sleepovers and she came to my thirteenth birthday party with my new middle school friends, and we hung out at this same place called 'The Mug' sometimes. But it didn't work that much. Also in middle school there was Abbey, who I knew from Church, who was the only other young girl in the choir with me. We would hang out in the nursery on Wednesday nights, even though we were much too old, and would listen to Alex (three years older than us) ramble about his girl problems and ask for advice. But eventually she stopped coming to church, and like that, I lost her.

There was Christy too, the one I've probably missed more than anyone. Christy and her sister Carrie were in the foster program, and they were fostered by an older couple in my church. For the roughly half year that she and her sister were with them I became very close to her. I learned about her life, about how she hated the foster system because she could never have a real family in that way. People were always set to give her up, and since she was older no one wanted to adopt her or her sister. She really inspired me, a lot. Because one of my goals in life is to eventually adopt someone, but someone who is older, not a toddler or baby like everyone wants. One reason being that I don't particularly enjoy small children and the other being that I want to give someone a family, someone like Christy. Someone who deserves a family, because I just find it horrible that children in the foster system are thrown into the streets if they don't get adopted by a certain age. I think everyone deserves to at least have a family. And Christy taught me that, and I really miss her. 

Then in high school there was Marcelo, wonderful, beautiful Marcelo. The Brazilian boy who gave more confidence than perhaps anyone in my life. He always told me I was beautiful, he always told me I could do whatever I wanted too. He was at Bryant on a foreign exchange program and the night he left was one of the saddest of my lives. I wrote him this letter, something I wanted him to wait to read later on the plane but he didn't, he read it right there in front of me. And I was crying and he cried too, and he hugged me and told me I was beautiful and that he loved me. And it really was one of the hardest goodbyes ever (the hardest actually being Marina pre-Washington). For about a year afterwards we stayed in contact over email, but eventually, like all else, it faded. And it makes me sad, because no one has ever really made me feel as good about myself as he has. In high school too there was Kelia, someone who became one of my closest friends in my sophomore year. She wanted to be a writer too and we used to share stories. No one in my life has ever supported my writing as much as she did. She was the first person to ever really care about my writing, and I hope I did the same for her. The last thing of hers I read before she moved away was this story about a blind girl, a story that I would love to read now, see what she had made it become. Part of my sophomore year was a really, really hard part of my life. The best things that Kelia ever did for me was take care of me, particularly on this one certain day. I was usually so good at hiding my emotions in school, but Kelia saw that day, saw how much I was hurting and she asked the teacher if I could be excused and she as well. And she just took me to the bathroom and let me cry it out; she was really there for me. 

Life is kind of like this spinning cycle, people are thrown in it, and sometimes the spinning sucks them down the vertex, down and gone. And it hurts sometimes, because life spins faster when certain people are there, certain good and brilliant people. And sometimes it's slower, with harder people and harder things. But I think in little ways we have the ability to slow it down or speed it up, one of them being cherishing the people we have, and remembering that one day they may be gone.

Fin.

-Keshia