"Aw, are you guys twins/sisters? You look alike"

The most common question you would ever hear in your life if you were a twin.

"Who is the evil twin and who is the good twin?"

My family would say I am, but I beg to differ. We both are evil

"Who is the girly twin?"

*sighs* really? I wore that pink shirt ONE time.

The comparison game (a.k.a. my entire life)

*Stares intently at you and your twin's face, going back and forth, back and forth*

Aha! There is a difference!

*Someone calls my twin's name*

*I still turn around*

*Someone I've never seen before starts talking tome*

*I realize it's probably my twin's friend and play it off*

"Would you marry twins? What if you had twin babies?"

Um, no lol

"What's it like being twins?"

You have your best friend with you, all the time. It is a blessing, always having a companion with you wherever you go, supporting you, crying with you, rejoicing with you. My twin is always there for me. She actually knows how to make me look presentable going out, whether it's doing my (usually knotty) hair, picking out my clothes(other than gym clothes), or cooking some bomb mac and cheese for me. Most of all, She is someone who understands me and accepts me for who I am, in every moment of everyday, whether it's a good day or a bad day. Yeah of course there are arguments at times, but its the same with any relationship..We always joke we are an old married couple. We really are, no question about it. We debate over who wears the pants of the relationship (I do :p).

It's a relationship that is so profound and special no words describe it, really. It is a bond like no other. Do I ever think about not having my twin? Yeah, but that would suck. I love my twin, not having her would crush me.

"Do you like being twins?" I wouldn't change it for the world.

Why is love like a sinking ship?

where two desperately hold on tight

in midst of chaos, confusion

flames burning, sea swallowing

But only seeing

each other's

eyes

You say you want me

but you quickly turn to other people when I'm not there

You say you need me

but you don't consider what I need

You say you have changed

but you've broken my heart too many times

You say things will be different

It doesn't feel any different, the pain lingers in my beaten and battered heart

You made the same mistake over and over, how am I supposed to trust you now?

You say you will treat me like a Queen

but you made me feel worthless, just another game to win

a game to play

I might as well be an Ice Queen, my heart is cold and numb

bitter from the icy pain

caused by you

The one that promised a pure, faithful love

but couldn’t keep that promise

You say you'll wait a lifetime for me

but I'm the one that hadn't moved on, while you did

You say I'm the only one

but that couldn't be further from the truth

flashes of other girl’s faces run through my mind

my heart breaks

how many others were there?

You take and take and still ask for more

there is no more of my heart to give you, you had it all

What is left is scars, deep and peircing

You say you love me

but now I know you never did, nor ever will

If, for one moment you felt the pain I felt

you would be shocked

shocked that someone could love that much

you would know that unlike the body, the heart does not heal quick, it may last a lifetime

You would be ashamed to even turn my way, knowing how all the things you did to me killed me internally

There is an aching cut within my soul

that screams in agony reminding me,

every moment

of every day,

that the one I thought would spend life with me...

never really loved me

the words that once made my heart swell with joy

are now tarnished and poisoned with lies

I gave you my whole heart,

I didn’t need to say it. I just did.

You, on the other hand, proclaim your “love” for me, but didn’t show it.

no

instead, you lie to “your love” and dangle her heart on a microscopic string,

not realizing she would have given Her whole life for you, her whole world.

You were

her world

you don’t hurt people you love

not over and over again

not ever

How could I have known that your words, promised with love and joy

were a scheme, a manipulation

Or that your words of trustworthiness

were really a facade, a mask, to hide the truth

You never loved me, so please, spare me the flowery phrases, the lame proclamations of love

It doesn’t mean anything unless it’s real

your words of love are just empty voids, a game plan or a script to fill your selfish desires

it seems like the whole earth silently collapses around me, realizing that after all these years, I believed a lie

Love is patient, Love is kind

love does not tolerate betrayal, unfaithfulness,

lies

love is doing everything you can to build the other person up

love is not a game,

where you get bored of one game so you throw it away and grab a new one

it is not filled with mindless chatter and empty words with no action

love is not to be taken lightly

it certainly is not forceful or

full of pain

and love is definitely not this:

When the same person that says

“I love you”

destroys you

Of all the senses, smell is not the one that is thought of as the strongest. Despite this fact, smell can conjure up a wide range of emotions and memories from the past. For instance, when I detect the faint scent of buttered popcorn, it takes me back to when I was younger and got to visit my father, who always took me and my sister to the movies. Fond memories of our brief times together pour into my mind just from that smelling popcorn. Not only food, but smells of nature and even weather changes immediately take me back to specific times and places from the past. Burying my face in a heap of flowers reminds me of the time my grandmother brought me to Coyote Hills, where a greenhouse filled with bright red roses and tulips were displayed, and butterflies circled over my head.

Smells not only bring back memories, but also stir up powerful emotions. Whenever I smell wet grass, specifically after it has rained, a victorious and triumphant feeling builds up in me, and can’t stop smiling. I remember striding to the finish line in my middle school P.E. class, scoring the best time I had ever gotten running a mile. The smell is so faint and subtle, yet the emotions and memories tied with it are overpowering and consumes all of your mind in that moment. While smell may not be the strongest senses, it stirs up very powerful emotions and memories, which are deeply tied to who I am. Smell may very well be one of the more dominant senses connected to consciousness and ultimately, identity.

With a sense so important, it may seem puzzling to ask why it is so hard to stop and smell the roses. But this chaotic life just wont let us rest. We are always being told to work work work for the future, but don't get a chance to be in the present time. We need to be reminded to take a deep breath and just be still, appreciating life for what it is right now.

You were one of the first people I ever took care of as a caregiver. I was sad to see you go home to the Lord in your mid fifties.

I will never forget you.

I loved the way you always asked for peach yogurt specifically- just like me.

I will miss brushing your teeth and making a warm cup of coffee for you every afternoon you came home from adult school.

I will never forget the time you dressed up as a baby for halloween.

I will miss all of your stories about your family back home, and your family photo albums you loved showing me.

I will miss your fun seasonal nail polish you always modeled. You were always so excited to show me what new color you had on.

I will definitely miss tucking you in bed at night, seeing the smile on your beautiful face. You loved to sleep.

I still have the crafty pineapple you made for me at school. It’s in my room, and will always remain there.

Most of all, I will miss How you made others feel. Everywhere you went, you filled the room with absolute joy, because of your love. Your love for others and your enthusiasm in the little things reminded me how precious life is. Even the way you would call my name made me feel valued and loved. I never got a chance to say goodbye to you, angel, but I know I will see you in Heaven one day.

I stepped out into the crisp October air, quickly passing through the vibrant scarlet and orange leaves that lined the ivory window sills and showered the sleek gray streets of Stockton. The murky, overcast sky illuminated the yellow flowers down below, scattered among each lawn. Fall seemed to decorate the dark houses in the neighborhood with dark plum and cardinal trees that formed a sort of bridge down each lane. Always in a mood to run, I began to jog, each stride making a thump, thump on the cracked sidewalk that lead to park I used to spend hours as a child. The rush of cool air to my brain and lungs felt piercing, but soon washed away as I continued to run four blocks to the park.

I would take my baby cousin to the playground, pushing him on the squeaky metal swings that he so diligently held on to. His almond eyes would look up at the sky and point to planes that flew overhead in the distance. "Feigi," I told him in chinese, the word for airplane. "Feigi," he would repeat, revealing his toothless smile. My troubled mind would easily be soothed as soon as I held my cousin in my arms, smelling his baby shampoo and feeling his soft tressels of fine hair.

"Gou Gou," he would point, again, this time to the dogs that would pass by.

"Yes, Gou Gou," I'd point with him, watching as his eyes scanned the dog for so long until it was far out in the distance, only a speck. Days like these where it was just me and him, gazing at the Autumn leaves tumbling to the ground, was priceless. The momentum of the swing would create a sort of melodic rhythm that put me at peace. The world seemed to go quiet, the outside noise falling away. The only thing to be heard was the soft laughter of a baby.

You may not know me, but I know you. I know about your life, and I can relate. Your dad flew away to Colorado when you were seven. You dad has a new family down there, one that you are not a part of, one that you will never be a part of. Well, my father did the same. He left when my sister and I were young, and started his own family. Growing up it was hard to watch him be there for my half sister every day of her life, when in mine he only visited some days. I would ask myself as a child, Where is he going? Why did he have to leave? I miss him still, especially now that I don't see him often, and since he is so busy with my half sister and stepmom. Some nights my heart twists and turns like it is about to burst because I miss him. Sometimes I feel broken, and wonder all the possible reasons why he left. Was it because of me? There were times when I felt angry. Angry that he chose another life over my sister and I. But God has shown me what it is to love. To love even when your heart seems to be cut open with a knife, piercing you relentlessly, twisting and turning. But God loves everyone, even me, a sinner. And if God can forgive me and all the things I've done, then why can't I forgive others? It may be hard, but let me tell you, Evan Hansen, I am glad I chose love. 

You feel worthless. Unnoticed. You are the black sheep. The oddball out.You don't think you are beautiful, even good-looking for that matter. You are not top of your class or the fastest athlete. You don't get the promotions at work and hardly anyone notices you. Who would ever love me? That is something my younger self asked frequently. Now if I could tell my younger me anything, it would be what I am about to tell you. What if I told you that you ARE valuable? You are precious. You are sacred. Do not listen the lies and deceit that plague your mind. You are not good enough. You will never be.They are far from the truth. You were made for a purpose. Now everyone says that but it is for a reason. Even if you die not knowing what that purpose is, you will have known you lived for something.

 You were not brought into this world by mere chance. The atoms, cells, tissues, organs, a profound conscience, and a soul that makes you human did not come together by themselves. The complex structures such as your beating heart and the detailed network that is your brain did not appear without a force. Each cell and each neurotransmitter knows what to do.We know we are loved simply because we are alive. Every breath and every heartbeat assures us that we are wonderfully and fearfully made. We are the children of God, who knit us in the womb. My friend, do you know how long knitting takes? It is quite an enduring process. Which is how I know God loves each and every one of us. We are crafted with careful thoughtfulness and even before we were made, God knew you in the womb. You and I have a plan ahead of us, and it has been implemented in us even before we were created.

God loves you, whether you love him back or not.

I love God because He first loved us. So to those who feel worthless or never good enough, be reminded that you are treasured and precious in His eyes.

I woke up this morning and I was no longer ashamed. No more was I beaten and battered by my past. The agony from my sudden heartbreak had consumed me for too long- the painful past few months were relentless. My one true love had turned his back on me and scampered off with someone else, someone that I called my friend. When I gave him everything I had to offer, he was gone. The shame consumed me. Not only was I used, but cheated and broken. My heart in a sea of pieces, no longer full, but in waves of sorrow. My world like being stuck on a drifting sea boat, consumed with nauseating sickness. There was no escape.

Soon enough, though, my eyes were beginning to clear not only through tears, but to the reality at what I had been so blind to. I was young and trusting, too trusting with the person who seemed to take all of me, for nothing in return. How completely shattered I was to see him wrap his arms around her, when he had done the same to me. My heart wrenched and twisted together very much like chains. However, the chains that shackled me to the hurt and shameful naivety of my age were broken. I was made for more in this world than to cling on to the past. The past does not control me any longer; it does not identify who I am. With it, I am stronger.