• Friends

    by  • February 28, 2010 • 0 Comments

    Dear Friend,

    I just need to get something off my chest.

    I want to be the kind of friend where you feel like you can tell me anything and everything. I want to be the kind of friend who you can call in the middle of the night because you just can’t wait until the morning to tell me something. I want to be the kind of friend that you cannot wait to see even though it has only been two hours since you last saw me. I want to be the kind of friend that you are the first to tell something really exciting to. I want to be the friend whose shoulder you want to cry on when you are sad.

    I want to be this kind of friend to you, but you won’t let me. I need more than what you are giving me. I am not a person who just has a lot of friends, but rather I am a person who enjoys having a few really close friends. I really want you to be one of those friends that shares my life with me, but you are never there. I can’t keep letting myself get hurt and disappointed if that isn’t what you want too. So, I need you to make a decision. Really close friend or the friend next door. There is no in-between here. I see it in black and white. It is up to you.


    by  • February 28, 2010 • 1 Comment

    Dear Professor,

    I am tired. All I want to do is go to bed, but you keep me up. Why do you have to keep me up? I know I should have been studying harder all along, but who has time to sleep anymore let alone study for quizzes in the future? And now I am basically pulling an all-nighter just so that I don’t have to fail your quiz. I hope you are happy.

    Your Tired Student


    by  • February 28, 2010 • 0 Comments

    Dear Friend,

    I just wanted to apologize for how I acted this morning, and I want you to know that I feel very childish for how I acted. I was pretty frustrated by what happened Saturday night, and it is not fair that I take that out on you. I should probably explain myself so that it is just off my chest. First off, I was offended that you got invited and I didn’t. I feel like the only reason I ever get invited to anything is because of you, and that hurts my feelings consistently. Again, not your fault, but it still stings. It was rude on HIS part that pretty much everyone I hang out with was invited and there other than me; not fun to hear about something you got left out of on Monday morning. B and T had been discussing it right before I saw you, so I was already ticked. Second, we had talked earlier in the night and you told me that you wouldn’t go without me and then you did…that was what hurt the most honestly. And you didn’t even discuss the going without me part… you kind of just pulled up at my place and said, “Okay, well S is going, so I will just go with her,” and expected me to jump out of the car happily. Well, I did not jump out of the car happily…instead, I went and dealt with my emotions upstairs. And then you texted me that night to tell me all about it…the party I didn’t get invited to, almost like rubbing it in my face. I know that was not your intention at all, but it really felt that way to me since I was already bummed.

    Anyways, I was really hurt by the whole ordeal, and I don’t feel I can move past it until you understand why I was so stand-off-ish this morning. So that is it. I am really sorry that I was that way, and I promise I am over it now.

    Thanks friend and I love you,
    Your Friend

    the way I love you

    by  • February 27, 2010 • 4 Comments

    The day you were born was simply amazing. I actually saw the whole thing, and being a good farm boy, it was not the first time I had seen the visceral reality of a live birth, but never had I experienced such emotion! Love, fear, hope, humility.

    They handed you to me, swaddled in a little pink blanket. Your mother lay off to the side, overcome by exhaustion both physical and emotional. You cried, and my first instinct was to calm you, to be there for you, this part of me, my heart, my very soul, laying before me in my hands.

    Never had I held any person, any thing with such tender love. Empty, parched parts of my heart filled with a quenching love. It was as if my heart had never known love, and honestly it hadn’t – not of this kind. This was a selfless love, the kind of love that would make a man step in front of a charging bear to protect someone he loved more than himself.

    In a blink, promises poured overflowing from my heart – all those promises a father makes to his child, to always protect, love, and cherish, you, to be a better man for you, such a dear sweet gift from God. And in the next instant came the fear, the reality that my beloved child can never be fully protected, can never be totally nurtured, can never be perfectly loved in such a dangerous, cruel, unforgiving world.

    I thought of my parents and realized how much they had sacrificed for me. I forgave them their mistakes, and I hoped that I might be nearly as good as a parent. In some ways I promised to be better. I knew I could be better.

    Now, nearly two decades later, I realize that far too many of those promises have been broken, that our very relationship has been broken, and still I try to mend it.

    But it seems our relationship is like some exquisite piece of crystal that has been reduced to bits of glass, and the more I try to fix it, the more it seems to hurt me.

    I never meant to abandon you, though I know this is how you must feel. I never meant to make you choose between me and your mother, my ex-wife. My hopes for us remain modest, that I might be part of your life, a contributing part because after all, you are part of me and I am part of you.

    I live with the everyday pain that I have failed you. This pain fills the empty void caused by our separation. I have eased this pain by allowing others in my life,and I have given them my love. But always there is this gnawing feeling, a longing. For as much as I love others, there is only one person whom I can love the way I love you.

    Dad, I love you

    by  • February 27, 2010 • 0 Comments


    I want to know why you didn’t love me. Sure, you said it, but you didn’t act it. You hit me when I didn’t do anything wrong. You yelled at me when I didn’t do anything wrong. You said mean things all the time, like a picture I coloured was ugly, or an art project idea I had was stupid. You even called me a bitch once because I was constantly breaking up fights between my brothers and “bossing them around,” but you denied it when I called you out.

    You were always drunk or high and parked in front of the television. Mom took us almost every weekend to her sister’s house for a long time, so we wouldn’t have to be around you and deal with your madness
    in the mornings.

    I know that being in the war really screwed you up and you probably had some mental or emotional problems regardless, but I loved you and you hurt me. Now you’re gone and I can’t even begin to figure out how
    to deal.

    I love you, and it hurts. I think it always has. Why couldn’t you just love me?

    Hey Technology Dude…

    by  • February 27, 2010 • 0 Comments

    I know this may come as a big surprise…but I don’t understand a word you say to me. I ask you to use little words and talk to me like you would talk to a third grader. Well, Hell’s bells…you must hang out with some very smart third graders cuz I STILL don’t understand what you’re saying. You know the parents in the Peanuts cartoons? Remember them? “Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah…” Yeah, that’s what I hear. So I’ll just nod and smile.