Our Story

Balloons

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I cried. You probably will too. lol. just like my dad says, "I'm breaking your back." haha. i love you.

Chapter 3: BALLOONS

Times were good. Actually, they were better than good. They were great. I had Deborah, and my family, but something was missing. Something that I needed to make me feel complete. I didn’t know what it was, and really I didn’t even realize I felt this way until that day. The day that changed me forever. That terrible, awful day. It was a day in April. A normal, beautiful day of my life. I was in the car taking a math test. Just so I could focus better. I went inside after I was finished to go on face book. About fifteen minutes later I heard crying. Confused, sorrowful crying. I didn’t know what was wrong, but naturally I went to go see what was wrong. It was my mother and sister. My sister was pale and scared. Almost as if she saw a ghost, and my mother was weeping. I didn’t know what was wrong, but I was scared. I sensed that something was seriously wrong, and I wanted to help. I wanted to pick my mom up and hold her in my arms just like she did when I was upset. Rock her back and forth and tell her everything was going to be ok. Before I had a chance to ask what happened I heard the door open, and I knew my dad was home. They wouldn’t tell me what was wrong for so long. It felt like eternity. I felt hopeless, useless and impatient. Each minute felt like an hour, and that’s when I saw it. The most terrifying thing you will ever witness in your life. The most heart breaking thing a child could endure. I saw my dad cry. I saw him hold his head in his hands and bawl. You could hear the pain and suffering in his sobs. They were angry, depressed tears. Something I’ve never seen or heard before. It felt like someone took my heart and ripped it into millions of pieces. It felt like my whole world was breaking down around me. He looked up at me and I saw the pure pain and torture he was enduring. I saw the anger and disappointment in them. I needed to know. I needed to know what was wrong. I finally brought up the courage and asked my mom. She told me what happened and I swear the blood froze in my body. But it quickly boiled over and I ran into my room and dropped to my knees. I held my head in my hands and cried. I cried for my family. I cried for my sorrow, but most importantly I cried to God. I prayed and hoped that everything would be ok. That he would fix everything like He always did. The next day was hard. No, the next day was torture. I went to school, and just cried, but these tears were different. These tears were tears of shame and secrets. Something I never thought could happen. I went home, but nothing was different. You could almost smell the salt of all our tears mixed together. From then on I was angry at everything. I had this bitterness in me that no one knew. I separated myself from everyone. From my family, Deborah, my friends, and God. I was angry that He let this happen to my family. I was angry at anything and nothing. One day my mom told me that I should try to go to counseling. I didn’t want to go. I thought it was for people who had problems and needed ‘help’. I didn’t want help. I wanted answers and control. I wanted peace and joy, but the way I was going wasn’t getting me to any of these things. I told her no and immediately I knew it was the wrong choice. My grades gradually started to go down because of my anger. My attitude was horrendous and I rarely smiled. Finally, I told my mom what was on my mind. I told her everything. I told her why my grades are going down. I told her about my anger. I told her everything. I told her I need to go to counseling, and get fixed. When I went I realized three things. One, I can’t control everything. Two, It’s ok to have problems. And three, I needed Jesus to fulfill what I wanted. From then on I changed. I was a better Christian. I let go of my anger and let out my emotions whenever I could. It felt like I was holding on to balloons that weighed a ton each and let them float away in the wind. I was finally free. This whole time I couldn’t tell Deborah. I had to keep it a secret, and that was one of the most difficult things out of all of this mess. When I told her, I cried. I cried of relief, freedom, and finally I cried because I knew I had friendship. I also cried because of the sorrow it put me through. I cried because of the memories it brought back, but I knew it would be ok. This whole time I never looked at her. When I did I looked up and saw that she was crying too. Tears of pain, weakness, love, compassion, understanding, and anger. She held me in her arms and told me she was there for me. Told me everything was going to be ok, and that she would always be there for me. In that moment I knew everything would be ok. I knew that as long as I have her, my family, and most importantly God, my life would be just fine.

I covered my mouth for a second to cover the sobs that were threatening to come to my mouth. Tears flew down my cheeks as I tried to continue. I looked up to see everyone sitting the same way. With love in all their eyes. They knew how hard this was for me. They didn’t come comfort me because if they did I wouldn’t be able to continue. So, there I stood. In front of all our friends and family silently weeping for our loss. I had to continue. I had to do this for the one that really matters. So, I straightened my back and looked back at my words. I began to read, but this time with a different perspective. One that no one understood, but me. I wasn’t just doing this for her. I was doing it for me too. Because these words were just like my balloons. Each word that came out of my mouth was one I let go. One of the many sorrows that I would let go because that’s what she would want me to do.