Why?
Why do I write? How else can I bring words to life? How else am I to show people what goes on in that funny little head of mine? I have so many stories, so many characters running around in their respective worlds, that I can seem to be able to right them all down fast enough. And as soon as they appear...POOF! They're gone. Some like to stay for longer and I can manage to get their complete story to the world. Those characters I like. Others like to come and go. Those I like the best.
So when I'm asked why I like to write, its as simple as because I like to connect with others and as complicated as the characters that I write about.
Love
The feeling you got when he/she said those three little words.
When you walked (or saw her walk) down the aisle on your wedding day.
When you you found out that you were expecting.
Feeling your baby's first kick.
Preparing for their arrival into this world.
When you saw and held your child for the first time.
Seeing your child smile and grow and someday experience all those things you have experienced.
Seeing and holding your grandchild for the first time.
Growing up Hispanic
Growing up, I was always aware of my culture. While the rest of the kids at my lunch table had Lunchables and juice boxes, I had last nights left overs and agua fresca.
I have to admit that at times I felt ashamed. I felt like I could never really fit in in my mostly white school. When I was finally feeling like I was fitting, we moved. It was only a few miles north, a 15 minute drive, but to 9 year old me, it felt I was on the other side of the state.
I was in 7th grade when it finally clicked. If I denied my heritage, my culture, then I was forgetting about part of who I am.
Now I'm 18 and when people ask me what my name is, I say it proud. When they ask me I proudly tell them that even though I was born in the United States and for most of my life went to a mostly white school, that I AM MEXICAN.
I just hope that someday, people won't find it funny to make a wetback joke, just like it isn't funny to make slavery jokes, or holocaust jokes.
This country is made up of immigrant, and legal status doesn't change that the U.S. is supposed to be the land of opportunity.
Not fair
When the person you love has let out heir final breath but you still breath. When it's summer and the sun is shinning but you can't seem to warm up because there's a hole in you. When you finally fill that hole with new love and warmth only to have them leave you again, but this time of their own free will. When you have to stand back and watch the person who healed you be happy with another. When you have to pretend that even just hearing their name doesn't make you want to tear you heart out with your bare hands. When you realize that you will always come in second to someone else.
When you decide to end it because you realize that life just isn't fair at all.
Rage
I met him over the summer. At a camp. When our time ended we went home to our separate towns a 5 hour drive from each other. The rest of the summer we just spent texting each other. Skype, FaceTime, OOVOO, at least thrice a week.
Suddenly nothing. I thought my phone was broken, that something bad had happened to him.
One month
Two months
Three months
Suddenly a text.
"Hi, how have you been."
Like nothing had ever happened. Being polite, I answered back. The whole weekend was just like old times. And then nothing
Until a few days before Valentine's Day.
Rage.
I felt so much rage and anger.
And so I thought screw him.
I haven't heard from him since then and I don't know what I'll do if he calls or texts me again.
Probably hunt him down and slap him.