--Resplendent Files Article 1--
Inconsistencies became a regular thing for me. What I wanted and what occurred was always dissonant. I wanted good parents, a good childhood, someone to love me. I received dead parents, a broken childhood, and no one loves me.
Does God even love me? How can he, this life I've been provided with isn’t one to exactly brag about. How can I boast in what God has given me when God hasn’t given me anything.
I'm just having things taken away from me, It's awful.
This then lead me to stay inside my apartment for days on end. What was there to do? What could possibly make life worth going through. If I decided to do something fun, it would turn out to be a waste of time.
I was afraid of being a screw up, I was afraid of God.
Excerpt from Resplendent Files Article 1
Jeremiah goes on to explain his growing fear of God. It's a real downer, and since I’m in such a low mood, I don't want to have to read it again and type it up for you guys.
I stopped at Yasmin’s place, I didn’t go in, I just say in my car outside the apartment home. I never looked over at it, I just sat there with my head against the steering wheel. I'm not even sure why I did it. Nothing was running through my head while I wallowed there. What was there to do? I couldn’t go up and say I'm sorry. I thought it was something she did all the time, not her first time. Nothing like your first time, but when you waste it on someone like me, I can understand why she would be pissed .
So yeah, I sat there. I only went once, and I never went back. Now I'm in a low because of Carolyn. I feel so empty when I think of her. Any time I'm not working or doing something mindless she creeps into my head. Why couldn't she just stay?
Why am I a failure. My parents think they need to run my life because I'll screw up. Father Jeremiah isn't ever disappointed when I mess up on a task he gives me. He has that low of expectations of me. Why do I still work there?
Why did we have to be forced together at a young age anyway. It makes no sense. Do catholic parents even do that? Did they really think a relationship started in school would survive till we were older?
When we were young we were immature. There was no way we were gonna make it till we were out of school. As teenagers, we thought love was only a feeling, an emotion we felt when we heard each other's name, smelled their fragrance, touched their fingertips. We thought if we stopped feeling those things after a point of time, it must of meant we didn't love that person anymore. That’s the problem, it wasn't love at all.
Love isn't like that. Liking people is like that. When we liked each other, Carolyn and I, we consistently had a fade in and fade out of our affection for each other. That feeling we got when we heard each other’s names, or smelled each other’s fragrance, touched each other’s fingertips, never lasted very long. Liking someone is feeling.
That feeling can disguise itself as love. The ignorance of a growing teenager starts to stay cooped up his head to long, causing him to think love is all those sensations I suggested earlier. This teenager believes that the feeling he chances is love, not because anyone told him, but because no one told him it wasn’t. People don't always like each other, but they still love each other. I may not like Carolyn, but I know I love her. Parents, friendships, teachers may not like you, but they still love you.
Love was never a feeling, but a relationship. You can't have a healthy relationship without love. If love is a relationship though, then it can't ever be one sided. There has to be two people who love each other to continue a relationship. Now to make love easy, liking that person is helpful. Though since like is an emotion, it is fleeting, but it slows down when chased after. Like is that person we needed to call out to slow down and wait for us to catch up to. then like would turn around, and watch as we came up to him. His hand would be out and we would grasp it. He would lead us to where love is.
Once we found love, that connection was made. Love cannot be broken, but like is a busy guy. He leaves a lot, love sticks around though. The only problem is when like leaves, we can't see love that well anymore. We were so focused on the person who took us on our trip then the destination we reached.
I will say the adventure is a lot of fun, but what’s the point of an adventure without a destination.
To bad, now we have those clouded opinions we made from our younger years. Or at least she does, I don't know what’s in her head. I'm dying to find out. Sometimes I hope Carolyn would somehow stumble upon this story, see what's in my head. She would read it, and maybe it would fix this issue. It's either we marry, or we don’t marry, or wait till our parents die and we marry someone else.
Why are our parents like this?
Jonny called again, said he was sorry about what happened at the club. He wished we didn’t go, I agreed with him. Then he asked what happened when I left, I told him I just needed fresh air and went for a walk. What happened between me and Yasmin isn't for me to tell.
He went on to talk about what happened at the club. I was wondering how he could have known all the details about it when he should have been to drugged to remember such details. Turns out he brought his own alcohol to drink. He says he makes his own brew.
Looking down from my ninth floor building, I see the traffic of the street below. The rain is coming down hard, and I see huge bodies of waters reflecting the building across from me. Jonny was talking, but now I was distracted by the street down below. The lights were bright to my eye even when I was so far away. My eyes always picked up to much light at nighttime, I thought.
I've wondered what Its like to jump out the window, the emotions that would pass through my body but never reach because I would hit the ground first. Would I be afraid? maybe laughing? or maybe I'd just tense my body. What thoughts would I think about? would I think of my father beating me every night?
Meanwhile, while I thought suicidal thoughts, Jonny was still rabbling on about the club. I became tired of him talking and said I had to go real quick between a pause he had. I hung up.
I've been sitting here for 30 minutes thinking of what to write. To be honest, I don't have a clue what to say to you. There really isn't a point to it, so why say it. Maybe I just like blogging. Talking to no one but everyone.
Wonder what It would be like to meet you guys. The ones who cared of course, not the trolls.
Another 30 minutes has passed, and still nothing.
Ok, that was unexpected. Someone knocked on my door about 15 or so minutes after I last typed. When I went to check the peep hole in the door, I couldn’t see anyone. Seems legit.
Yup, nothing really happening.
Ok now I'm hearing things in my kitchen.
Just got back from the hospital. Stitches in both hands and some in my face.
I had kept hearing things throughout my apartment, first the knocking, then the kitchen, then it was like someone just laid on my bed. I had gotten up to go check out what was going on and walked into the kitchen, things had been rearranged. All my cabinets were opened. Two glasses were out, and a case of wine.
I walked over to put them back. I picked both glasses up with my right hand and the wine in my left. Ready to place them into their appropriate places, I hoisted them up. Control escaped from my body, and I couldn’t move. My body was motionless.
Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Yasmin. She was naked, such beauty. But how did she get in? and where were her clothes? What in the world was going on?
She stepped toward me, and each step cuts tore through her body. The cuts were where they would have been when she had fallen. Her hands were turning dark red and fast began to spurt this way and that. I couldn't see her well, considering it was from the corner of my eye, so my brain must have been filling in what it thought was there, and everything looked worse than I could imagine. Her left eye had just torn open and began to release more than blood, I could have sworn brain matter squeezed out, but I was uncertain. I couldn't see well.
She stopped a few feet from me, my kitchen was large so she crossed quite a distance. My arms were burning, they were tired, and now I wanted to die. Not to get away, but because I actually felt like dying, like it was the only thing to do. She stood there, blood now pouring down her chest and her hands dripping onto the floor. She was a horrifying thing, and I was stuck in this position for an honest 46 minutes.
I couldn't take it anymore, the constant idleness of standing there with her just looking at me. I tried to move my body in any way, I even tried to close my eyes and it wouldn’t work. My body wouldn't work. I saw movement, Her mouth was opening. It was full. She reached up to grab what was in her mouth. I couldn't quite make out what it was.
Within the moments she pulled something out her mouth, I felt something exiting mine, It was coming up through my throat and It was huge, I couldn’t breath anymore, someone was choking me. Was I going to throw up? Who cared, I could move now, and I fell to the floor. My body had been still so long, when I moved it was just a relaxation of muscles. I caught myself with my hands, Glass had cut through my skin and I began to make a fist out of the tense pain now in my hands. This only made it worse.
I began to gag, This thing in my throat was way to big, and I could feel it tearing my neck open. I should be dead, but something kept me alive. I realized an intense pain in my chest. I must have been ignoring it with all the pain going on throughout my body already. My body began to shake uncontrollably, glass was getting in my skin throughout, and Yasmin looked at me, just standing there, like I did when she fell.
My neck was now open, and whatever had been stuck was out. My jaw was limb, and my neck useless. I was now on my back looking up at her. Yasmin had gotten whatever was in her mouth out by now. She stepped over me, feet stepping into the glass, and the blood from her dripped onto my now bloody face. How could something like her go from a beautiful thing to a horrific figure?
She bent down, Her legs were on either side of my head, kneeling. "Are you hungry?" She was speaking in a teasing tone. I couldn't answer. She had felt through my neck, Her fingers pulled around places and popped veins. She was looking for something. Her one eye probably limited her to what she could see.
I was crying. This sound I made was like a dying dog. Funny, I was like a dog when I was in bed with Yasmin.
She stood up. She must have found what she wanted, the thing from my throat. My eyes followed her hands. I was curious to what it was. I still hadn't known what it was that destroyed my body.
Still very much alive, with so much pain flowing into my brain, I lied there, watching her with her hands up looking at these to objects. She then kneeled again, not over me. She bent forward and her eye looked straight into mine. She then kissed me. I felt closure, actually I don’t know what I felt, but it felt like the ending, so I shall stick with the word closure.
She now held these two objects in front of my eyes. She then looked at me again.
"What are these?" Her voice was clogged at the throat now. The sound that came out only came out when a bubble was released through the blood in her mouth. I couldn’t reply, I couldn’t nod. I moved my eyes left and right to let her know I had no idea what they were."Look closely"
She moved them closer. They looked like an organ. It was beating. I recalled the emptiness in my chest, and the lack of blood coming from my body. They were hearts. One of them was my heart.
"You didn't give me this, did you." She had a tone of anger. "You said it was mine, remember? When we reached the end of our exploration?" She was angry but speaking in a sultry manor.
She then squeezed the one heart. It began to shoot out blood, and then popped, just like a grape. Excessive amounts of blood shot in all directions. Her chest now tore open where her heart would have been. Her rib cage was visible.
"My heart is now missing! How could you steal it from me?" She was yelling, pushing out blood from her mouth out onto my face, crying. "Just give me your's, please!" She stuck my heart into her body and tied it against her ribcage, then into the arteries. I began to fade at this point, And my eyes actually began to close.
Something touched my lips, and she had kissed me again. "Thank you." Calm again.
I woke up, My body was completely soaked in blood, but only my hands and a bit of my face were scarred. They hadn't even been massive cuts, just flesh wounds. I got up to get a new pair of clothes on and trashed the old pair. I couldn’t be seen with those clothes without seeming like a psychotic killer. I covered my hands and headed over to the hospital. The scars looked like flesh wounds to me, but the doctor there said it was safe of me to show up, just in case of infection.
After coming home, my whole kitchen was clean. The glasses that should have been broken were placed neatly in their cabinets. The wine as well was in its correct place. So what in the world was that? And why the heck do these things continue to happen?
I'm afraid to move, all I want to do is sit on my couch wearing a warm blanket and look out my window. I want to never move from this spot, I can't take anything more crazy or trippy like that anymore.
What makes me tell you these things?