"I'll never hurt you, baby. I love you."
They always say that. They always pull you close, whisper it, make you believe it. And then they stab your heart and expect you to deal with it, while he moves on to your best friend.
Love me? Yea, right.
What else is life but a never-ending disappointment? A rock-climb where you seem to really get somewhere, really begin to feel accepted, actually begin to feel like you are accomplishing something, and possibly, even begin to feel loved. Then, an earthquake mercilessly throws you to the ground, scraping your knees and elbows along the jagged rocks of let-down and hurt.
As you lay on the hard ground, scathed and bleeding, Reason yanks you by ...view middle of the document...
I had offered to share my bedroom with my little cousin on her visit. My parents insisted it would be "exciting for her" if she got to stay in her own room like a big girl.
They just don't want me around her. They probably think I'm not the ideal role model for an eight-year-old.
Nellie's words are mumbled. I have nothing better to do, so I slowly get up from my bed and walk out into the hallway.
"Thank you for Mommy and Daddy. Keep them safe on their trip. Bless Aunty Karen and Uncle David."
A wave of emotions to flow over me, and I stagger backwards.
Of course I know my aunt and uncle and cousin are Christians. Every visit, I always hear them refer to 'an event our church put together,' or 'our pastor said,' or 'the Bible says.' We don't ridicule them, and they respect the fact that we aren't into that whole religion thing (even though they insist it isn't "religion"; it's a relationship with God).
But now, for some reason Nellie praying really gets to me.
Must be the medication, I think to myself, wiping my sweaty forehead and turning to go back to my bedroom. Nellie's next words arrest me, though.
"God, I know that Sarah is having a hard time. Please help her. I know you truly love her. You want to...