foreverhidion3

@Mosiac 
          	hehe Fab

LifesAHighwayRideIt

I think about how my mom went 47 years making the wrong decisions out of fear, never getting the help she needed or talking to anyone about it, staying in bad relationships because she couldn't trust a good one. And I'm so heartbroken for the guy, Paul, whose perspective I'm reading from, but I am so, so heartbroken for the girl on the other side. The girl who never got the help she needed and made her life harder because of it. The girl who had someone who loved her right in front of her face and couldn't accept it. And I hope the daughter she left behind sees it. I hope the daughter goes to all the Waffle Houses, makes the riskier choices with the higher rewards, and chooses to do the things that will make her happy instead of sure. Because GOD. I wanted this story to end so differently back when I was in high school, and I didn't realize then that the only way it could have is if SHE chose Paul. Or maybe Paul shouldn't have waited until she was dying to write this letter. Either way, this story, my mom's story, my story, everyone's story can be changed so dramatically by us making the call to heal the parts of us that are too scared to make the move and do the damn thing, and I think that's equally beautiful and terrifying. But I think about it all the time. And every time I do, I think about freaking foreverhidion3, and I don't know why I felt the need to type it out today, but here we are. 
          
          I really hope you continued writing.

LifesAHighwayRideIt

This story just reminds me so much of them. I don't know my dad well. He's the least expressive person I know, and he doesn't talk. Doesn't even say bye when he's leaving a party. So I have no idea if he felt as strongly for her as it seems he did, or if I'm just a hopeless romantic, but I think about this story all the time. I've always read an obsessive amount. I've read 110 books just this year already, and they've all been full-length novels because  I'm not usually into poems, if that's what this is considered. But this freaking story stood out to me, and it freaks me out how much it bled into my life and how much more I understand it now.
          
          When I was 16, I fully crashed out with a quarter-life crisis because I realized if I lived to be 60, my life was already more than a quarter of the way over. My mom, sister, and I were driving down the interstate mid-meltdown, and I freaked out when I saw a Waffle House, because I had never been to a Waffle House, and what if I never got to go to a Waffle House when I could already see my end on the horizon? I was freaking petrified about wasting my life and missing out on every experience available to me. My mom called me crazy and made fun of me, but she took us to Waffle House, and I got a waffle and a black coffee to ensure I got the full experience. The coffee was terrible, and I found a hair in my waffle. My mom got something with jalapeños on it, and I tasted one because I had never had one before. (This was also around the time that movie Yes Man starring Jim Carrey was popular. I was going through it.) Hated it. Anyways, they thought I was nuts. Had I known at the time that my mom's life had already been a third of the way over when she was 16, they wouldn't have been able to handle my level of crazy. I'm 27 now, and if I live to be the age my mom was when she died (47), my life is well over half done. When I think about that, I think about this story.

LifesAHighwayRideIt

Anyways, through all of that, my dad was there. I would never go so far as to say they were best friends like this story, but if her car broke down? She called him. And he was there. She needed some money? He was there. She needed to move something in a truck? He was there. I don't even like my dad. He doesn't show up for me, but he always did for her. She was diagnosed with cancer in 2018 and passed in 2020. The whole time she was sick, he did anything for her. I have a sister who lives 9 hours from us and was pregnant when she was sick. My dad made that drive multiple times with just my mom so she could see her and be there when the baby was born. On one of those trips, he even tried to kiss her, and she didn't let him. He helped my grandma move her when she couldn't lift herself any more, attended her multiple celebrations of life we had before she passed, and actually called my sisters and I during that time which is not something he does but is absolutely something my mom would have been doing if she could have used her phone. He was just always there. And at her funeral, he cried, and it was only the second time in my entire life I have ever seen that man shed a tear. (The other was when my sister got caught sending a nude. So dramatic. ) And graveside, he took a flower for himself and another to set on the grave of their son, who passed before I was born.

LifesAHighwayRideIt

I know I'm about a decade and a half late, and who knows if you even use this app any more, but I just wanted you to know that a decade and a half ago, A Love Letter to My Best Friend touched my little teenage heart so much I retyped it word for word so I could keep it forever, and I think about it all the time. We're 15-ish years down the line, and I still remembered "foreverhidion3" enough to be able to find this today. Weirdly, I think this story foreshadowed my trauma for me. My mom was a very damaged human. Bad dad, abusive brother, rough childhood, never got help situation. She did not have a single solid relationship in her life. She was married 3 times. The first to my dad, who she cheated on. The second to some random guy. They were married for the legally minimum number of days you could be married to someone before she cheated on him with the woman next door who became her third spouse. I think they primarily divorced because my mom was scared when her family stopped talking to her because she was married to a woman. Her last boyfriend was this nasty, abusive guy. He left her shortly after she got sick. She just never could figure it out. And one time she broke down crying to me when it was just her and I that she felt like she had to sabotage her relationships before the other person could, because her own dad did it to her mom and lied to her (my mom) about it, so how could she possibly trust anyone else not to do the same? She was just a severely damaged person.

voiceyourthoughts

I read your 'Love letter to my Best Friend' and I am so in love with it.. amazingly written. its a kind of a writeup that anyone after reading it can easily get  connected to it. I am though not a fan of poems and all, but after reading some of your works, I changed my mind. You are surely a gifted writer. Keep writing and keep connecting to more & more people because I truly feel that a person gets connected to you & vice versa through poems & write-ups..