Masks or walls?

A question I find myself asking more than I should.

But in all honesty I choose both, and that is why I am very misunderstood

I hid behind the smile that never reaches beyond my cheeks, eyes wide open but never seem to sparkle or dance in the moonlight.

I have build these walls around my heart because I no longer carry the will to fight.

People see someone young and inexperienced, and my masks make them beleave this.

Wearing them allows me to hide away for just a moment from my reality. and keeping my walls up keeps safe my mentality.

As a human, it is normal to feel as though, that submitting to another human is a weakness. Keeping in mind, I am a very stubborn human. But this only relate to other humans.

In my spiritual life, I do not believe that submission is a weakness, I fully believe it is a strength...

Submitting to God takes bravery and faith in the intangible. It is walking a dark road but believing that there is a reason. It is pushing doubt aside from time to time and reminding yourself that God is not to be questioned. Because, even when you don't see, feel that force nudging you in the right direction and hear that voice you desperately need to hear in your darkest time telling you, "It is all going to be fine" you submit because you Believe that even though you can't tell if your prayers are being heard, as there are no signs, you trust that God has already walked the path he has designed just for you... for your purpose. Regardless of how dark it is, God knows that at the end you will be stronger.

As a child, I believed people were born evil. Due to how villains are portrayed in movies and books. I believe they were created that way...

Now looking back and understanding movies more in depth... and rethinking life it self. Well, my life...

I have found that villains' are created by people who surround them. Often the ones closest to them. Mainly family. People who stab you the back, people that gives nothing but empty promises, people that take you for granted when they need a shoulder, but is never there to catch you when you need someone...

At some point, you get tired of being let down, tired of wearing your heart on your sleeve, and in the end; you just switch off your emotions....

and this action...

This action leads people to think that you were born evil, forgetting or overlooking that they are the reason you became this person...

From day-to-day I can feel my backpack gaining weight.

The worries become more, and the calmness seems to fade.

My thoughts are neatly stacked and pack in this bag of mine.

Saying, I will deal with my emotions stuffed into the pile, but never do I have enough time.

My joy seems lighter but my doubts drag me down.

Caring this backpack, I can hear a sigh, a hopeless sound.

I miss the days were all I had to carry was a small lunch tin, that was so light.

But, now I have to battle my luggage, and I can't win the fight.

I am the oldest of three.

The is a baby sister, a middle brother and me.

As the oldest I take on most of the responsibilities.

While my youngest sibling, my sister handles most of the formalities.

However, the middle child; being my brother...

He has no are in the world, he is unique, and like no other...

I am my dads weakness, and often win any of our battles.

My sister is my mom's, and she knows just how to be my mothers annoying rattle.

But, with my brother, there is no hope.

for he is the middle child, the one that never feels bad to see no.

He is the one, that makes you laugh even when his jokes no sense.

The one who sees the rules as 'made to be bent'

And believe me when I say he can be irritating, and stubborn.

But that's how all middles kids are, that is their norm

Listens to no one and does whatever he deems right.

oh, and believe me when I say, with him you will never win a fight.

He is the weakness to my household, and can not be controlled.

But that's what he thinks, being the oldest I now how to make him cave and fold.

He is my first best best friend, and my partner in crime.

Without him, I don't think my childhood would have worth the time.

He stole my heart the minute he arrived...

And in that moment I knew what being a sister meant, how it is defined.

How they met

As Andrea walked the school as usual, books pressed to her chest, her hair pulled back in a low pony tale and nerdy classes adorning her eyes. When she felt herself collide with something hard, waiting to stumble, and to hear the loud thud of her behind kissing the floor. But it never happened. Eyes, still shut and her body encaged in arms that was perfectly tone, a set of hazel eyes staring back at her as she peeked the through her oddly placed glasses. her body hovering above the floor in his arms. Stiffening at the realization that the arms that held her belonged to Matt. Matt, the jog, the hottest boy alive. And here he stood with her in his arms, that charming side smirk that every girl got weak in the knees for.

The disbelieve of the odd that he would be her knight and shinning armor.

That is how meet-cutes play out in so many young people, when in reality it is the opposite of all of that.

In reality, a normal meet-cute, is not as cute as books make them,

In my case, the good looking boy that caught my eye at church on a Sunday morning after service. For a second it felt like we were the only two people alive. Little did i know that the moment he started to 'yap' I would feel like punching him so many times he would forget his name. Apart from the girls stroke his ego, making it grow bigger than it already was. He knew he had every girl around his pinky, and he owned it. I guess you could say, that was a put off to me.

The next Sunday church service I saw him, I felt less pleased. After service we had brunch in the church yard. We were standing in a group when a priest decided to hand on the both of us and utter "Just because you older now, do not think you can start kissing" I remember him chocking on the donut he had been eating and I coughed up the orange juice that barely made down my throat.

Long story short. Even though I was put off by his arrogance, God had other plans. Here I am eight years down the line with the boy I like, Disliked and now engaged to be married. I must say though, after eight years I finally realize that it was all a act, he is the sweetest idiot you could ever find.