Huh.

You would think after 20 years I would be able to at the very least understand what I am thinking half the time. But of course I don't. My thoughts just linger in my head throughout the day in a constant jumble as they all fight to be the one that screams at me the loudest. Some days I'm content with which one successfully beats out the others and wins five minutes or so of my dedication. However I have to say the majority of the time I cringe with the thought that deafens the others temporarily. Really, my life would be far less complex if it wasn't for my line of thinking.

When I was a little girl and my mother left me I spent a lot of time in a tree in front of my house. I would sit there for hours, watching the birds fly overhead and the cars pass by in the street. I used to spy on my neighbors, watching them as they worked in their yards, fed their cats, had parties, fought with one another and just simply walked in and out of their houses. I liked knowing life went on without me really existing.

I'm pretty sure at this point in my life I exist more than I ever have before. If that even makes sense. But I'm not so sure that life goes on. It's as though it has just stopped. Every day is the exact same. Same thoughts, same wants, same complaints and the same mindless chatter.

Maybe I just need to find another tree to climb.

Make Me Believe

I got miles of trouble spreadin' far and wide
Bills on the table gettin' higher and higher
They just keep on comin', there ain't no end in sight
I'm just holding on tight...
I've got someone who loves me more then words can say
And I'm thankful for that each and every day
And if I count all my blessings, I get a smile on my face
Still it's hard to find faith..

[Chorus:]
But if you can look in my eyes
And tell me we'll be alright
If you promise never to leave You just might make me believe

Its just day to day tryin' to make ends meet
What id give for an address out on easy street
I need a deep margarita to help me unwind
Leave my troubles behind...

[Repeat Chorus]

I used to believe in us
When times got tough
But lately I'm afraid that even love is not enough

[Chorus:]
But if you can can look in my eyes
And tell me we'll be alright
If you promise never to leave you just might make me
Oh, you just might make me
You just might make me believe

I will always remember you Sonia

Sonia, you were so beautiful. You were taken away from us so suddenly, that we are left to wonder why and mourn such a hard loss. But I know that you don't want any of us to cry over your death. You want us to remember you as you were, always smiling and happy.



I never told you this but you brought me so much joy. Your smiles and kind words were always so encouraging to me. I loved that no matter the day you were always so positive and high in spirits. I'm certain that every life you touched while you were here on earth is so much better because of you. I will miss your smile, your laughter, your sense of humor, and your way of making every one around you better just by being you.



Girl's nights will never be the same without you. But we will all always remember you. I love you Sonia and I am so sorry that I didn't tell you that enough.

Rest in Peace my friend.

Patience

I've always loved love. The notion of being so completely wrapped in a passionate emotion for another human being to a point where each breath they take, you take as well. When your heart beats together and every emotion they feel you feel with at the very least the same intensity. It's tormenting and more than just a little bit insane. But at its perfection it is beautiful and worth every single second.

I believe there are different levels of love. And no I don't mean to say that the love you share for a husband or wife is different from the love you have for your sister. Those differences are to me, obvious. They are not so much levels of love but simply different kinds of love. When I say there are different levels of love I'm talking about the love you have for a romantic partner. Because it's late and I lack creativity I will simply say there is a level 1, a level 2, and a level 3. With there being multiple levels I would have to say that it is possible to fall in love more than once.

When I was 15 I fell in love with a boy in my ROTC class named Justin. It lasted a whole three months and the heartache I felt between the end of the 6th hour bell to the ring of the 7th hour bell was seriously awful. I spent most of 7th hour crying outside the portable classroom's bathroom until a security guard found me and took me to the counselor's office where I continued to cry. I moped around for days, felt confused and empty for month and then finally became okay with it for about a week. Then I went on my first church retreat. My Confirmation retreat to be exact. There I was stalked by some crazy Italian with a hat I hated but somehow without even really wanting to, was completely drawn to. Within days I found myself skyrocketing into level two of love. Months turned into years, and just a month and a few days shy of three years later I found myself driving home from his house just minutes before New Year's crying hysterically as the moment finally came when I knew it was completely over.
Sparing the complicated details, for two months, I dwelt half-way between level two and three with a childhood friend and sweetheart that I ended out of fear, out of guilt, and out of what I really think was ultimately God's will. And then well, there came Chris.
Stating it like that of course makes it sound like Chris didn't exist before or during any of my past relationships. And to be fair I didn't know Chris during my first, and the very beginning of my second. But 6 months into my relationship with Jeremy, Chris was there and he's been there every second since.

I asked Chris an important question tonight. A question that I honestly felt like I deserved an answer to. I'm not certain still if I really liked the answer even. Actually I'm pretty sure I didn't. But it did leave me a little more content. Perhaps even a little more certain, if that were at all possible. Because Chris is my level three. Chris is the kind of love millions of people search for, and only a few people I truly believe actually find. Chris is the kind that makes you crazy. The kind that argues and then a second after laughs it off. Chris is the kind you want to understand and truly grasp, but secretly enjoy the mystery of. Chris is the kind you would die for without so much as a second thought. The kind you would never give away. The kind that lasts so much more than a simple lifetime. One that extends into eternity.

The kind of love that defines patience, even when you no longer wish to have it.

Pathetically Needy

You know I wish at least one person would read this. One person would acknowledge my existence. My thoughts, my pains, my worries.

I used to love to write. I still do actually but time is something I have little of. But these days I just want someone to know what I have to say. I want someone to care enough to listen. To take a few minutes out of their day and think of me.

I don't even know if Chris does that.

I'm tired of being invisible. I'm tired of getting so close, and then just as quickly falling back down.

What the hell is wrong with me?

$ $ $

So I absolutely love my truck. It's my baby. I've wanted a Nissan Frontier ever since I was a little girl and having it means so much to me. I got it a month after I turned 18 and still every time I see it I can't help but smile. It's beautiful. Getting my truck came with a price though. Because I had just barely turned 18 the dealership wouldn't approve me for a loan. My dad put it in his name, but he had less than perfect credit. So I have to pay $432 every month. Now, I was more than up for the job, and I haven't been a single day late for the last two years and few months. I also have never asked anyone for even the tinist bit of help. This is my truck. My responsibility. But lately I've been a little frustrated with this responsibilty. First and foremost, $432 added onto my already roughly combined $250 monthly bills tends to add up. I always have enough money of course, and I have money to spare but not enough to let's say, move out. There's no way I could afford an apartment payment and still pay my bills on time. But each time I ride the lightrail to and from school and pass all the apartment complexes my heart aches. I want to move out very badly. I need to move out. I share a bedroom with my 15 year old sister and let's face it, it's her room not mine. All I have is a corner of the room and half a closet. I seriously have no space and it drives me crazy. I'm going to be 21 this year and I can't just keep being here like this for much longer. Something just has to change.

I checked how much I've paid on my truck since I got it and I found out that I've paid over $4000 in interest. And if I keep on at this rate I won't be done paying it off until 2012. That's ridiculous! I need to do something about all of this.

I mean come on.

Concussions, love, and a call I don't know how to answer

So the past few months have been a bit of a blur. Things are going way too fast and I haven't had any real time to think. School is crazy, work is too time consuming, and I can't help but want to spend every spare second with the man I love. But I had been having this awful nagging feeling that I need time to process certain information. Contemplate my future and dreams. And so God in all His infinite wisdom and glory probably had something to do with me hitting my head just a little too hard on a steel bar at work. I was required to rest.

Of course having a concussion isn't the best condition for much thinking. That being said, nothing exactly slows down my thought process. So as I just laid in my bed, I thought about what I should actually do for the rest of my life.

When I was in high school I wanted to be a doctor. After being in ROTC I had every intention of joining the Air Force and being a doctor through them. I had medical problems however and so I was unable to join the Air Force but my dream of being a doctor was still very much real. I started college with the intetion of majoring in pre-med and for a year and a half that's what I did. But it didn't feel right. My heart just wasn't in it. And so after a lot of tears and mental breakdowns I changed my major to something that probably always suited me better. So says all the career test I've ever taken at least. I still haven't told my family, but now I'm majoring in psychology. I love it actually. It interersts me much more than the science classes I was taking and I'm happier because of the change. When I first decided I was going to really change my major I had it all planned out. Get a BA in psych and a masters in counseling and begin working as a counselor while I work on a doctorate degree. It seemed perfect, and I was content. But then the dioscean retreat happened.

I'm a CORE member at my parish and I love doing it more than anything in the world. I'm pratically the unpaid assistant youth minister and I take great joy and pride in everything I have to do. I love each and every one of those teens very much and each Sunday I'm with them they help me grow as a person, and as a daughter of God. Running a small group is as easy as breathing to me. I never have to search for the right thing to say. It just flows from within me. Sharing my faith with others truly is effortless. But I always had it in my mind that I'm just good as a volunteer. But then while I was sitting in the youth minister Jeremy's office one day he asked me if I would take the job after I graduate. At first I just laughed at him, and told him he was crazy. But then he looked me in the eye and said "Stephanie, don't you know you were made for this?"

A week later I had to do a testimony talk in front of 500 teenagers. Now I've done talks before, but only to no more than 30 teens. Walking up on stage was intimidating. But once I opened up my mouth, I had nothing to fear. I felt the Holy Spirit inside me, and I let Him take control.

After the session teens from all across Arizona came up to me and thanked me. They thanked me for sharing my story, thanked me for being an inspiration to them. Some of them told me I made them cry. One person looked me in the eye and said through my entire talk she just prayed and thanked God for me. She thanked God for me mere existence. She told me I had a gift. Everyone who spoke to me said I had a gift. That this is where I belong. The director of youth ministry in the diocease came up to me even and told me this is what I was born to do. That the way I spoke, the conviction I had...it would be wrong to not use my gifts.

My friend Michael and I joke around about our vocations. He's convinced I'm going to be a youth minister, and I'm convinced he's going to be a priest. We make fun of one another, point out little signs, and encourage one another to pray about it.
But I don't know. Michael does. Jeremy does. A handful of teens and adults on the reatreat do. But what about me? Is this really what God wants me to do? Is this what I'm supposed to do? Is this His will? Because right now, it's not mine. But then again, I just don't know.