Wow. Today has been quite an adventure.
i woke up with the phone open beside me. i smiled. Last night i had cried until my heart broke, for reasons unknown to me. John did call. Surprise, surprise. But his friend Brandon was there, and i hate it when John’s friends are there because he turns into a totally different person, his attention divided between me and them. i was hoping to have a serious John to talk to, and explain my feelings of loneliness and unloved-ness. Especially since it was Valentine’s Day, i was really hoping that he would start acting like he cared, or do something special. What kind of special are you asking for, you say, over the phone? Well i don’t know. Just something deviating from the normal conversations we have, something that let me know that he recognized this as a special day in our relationship, something to let me know that i’m still his world. Something to let me know he was sorry for the last fight we had…
Then he tells me that he has to hang up. Because, and i’ll probably never understand this, he was told that if he spent 20 minutes on the phone with a girl he would get punched in the nuts. i really hate his friends.
i told him no, he could not hang up on me. i would not pick up when he called back.Then he morphed into a bag of fucking sugar, saying “i love you,” over and over. Still, i said no. He even tried that sexy voice on me that usually has me with my pants off in about two seconds. i resisted. i started crying, so quietly that he thought i’d hung up on him, so he hung up on me. After five minutes of sobbing in my pillow, i called him back and asked him why he hung up on me. i told him that i’d been crying, i didn’t hang up on him. But i don’t know if he heard that or not.
One of his mom’s friends called, and he said he had to give the phone back to his mom (the boy has no phone of his own, but neither do i). i could only cry even more in response. He kept saying he was sorry. i think he really meant it. He said i love you, and after a few moments i said it back. i hung up with tears still in my eyes.
But then, he sent me a picture message. i’ve only seen about five pictures of his head, since he insists that he’s so ugly i wouldn’t like him anymore if i saw him. His hair is so long that you couldn’t ever see his face, anyway. But this one was the best picture i’d ever gotten of him. You still can’t see his face, but you can see that he has a Disturbed shirt on and you can even see his chin. He has a very nice chin. ^^ The message was, “I love u…sory.” i could even overlook the fact that he spelled sorry wrong because i was so happy. i studied the picture for twenty minutes before my eyes closed, and i kept the phone open all night long. The charger kept the screen lit. i woke up several times, and each time i dug for the phone under the covers to look at his picture again.
ANYway…
So while i was drying my hair after my shower, Mom told me about how Michael Jr. told Michael Sr. that she was cheating on him, and that she was “sex-deprived,” and all of this other shit. i was so PISSED. i kept looking out the bathroom door because if Junior happened to walk by on his way to his room he was going to get punched in the face.
While i was straightening my hair Junior knocked on my door to announce something, i don’t even remember what it was. Something about leaving soon. i marched to the door and threw it open and caught him while he was walking away. i asked him what his problem was. “What is my problem?” was his response. i asked him why he was saying shit about my mom. He said my mom’s been doing his father wrong. Punch him punch him punch him punch him punch him. “My mom has not done a damn thing but take care of you since the day she got here,” i nearly yelled at him. i was shaking with anger.
Chelsea walked by on her way to her room. “Chelsea, help me out here,” Michael said. She ignored him, and he looked down and laughed a little in embarrassment. Awh, does little Michael need his big sissy to fight his fights for him? “You are unbelievable,” i said. He just looked at me and smiled. i tried to kick him in the balls kicked but apparently i missed. He just backed off and laughed. Or maybe his dick is just so tiny that he didn't feel it. i stomped back to my room and shut the door harder than i’d ever had.
We didn’t all take the van, like we’ve done every Sunday before. Not only would all nine of us not fit in it, but since Mom and the stepdad are now over, they apparently did not even want to ride together. i was reminded of the weeks after my dad filed for divorce, when Mom had to sleep in the guest room and they avoided each other as much as possible until we moved into the apartment.
Mom, Kyle, Kelly and i all got in the van, but Mom forgot her phone so i went back inside to get it. On my way out Junior stood blocking the doorway. “Move,” I said roughly, pushing past him. “Girl, don’t touch me,” he said. Ooh, I was soo ready for a fight. I turned around and told him to shut up. He said you shut up. I said don’t talk to me like that. He said something, I don’t remember. I yelled, Don’t talk to me like that ever again or I swear to God I’m going to fucking punch your fucking face in. It went on like that until Big Michael showed and asked what the hell was going on. I stomped off the front porch, screaming that I wanted to be out of here so fucking bad. Big Michael said well in a few days you can be rid of this place.
I got in the car and we drove to my grandma’s church. I sat at the end of the pew, with Mom next to me and Grandma next to her. I hated the worship service at this church because everyone always got so emotional, and there would be people crying out and laying on their faces at the altar with people laying hands on them and praying loudly. And the worst part was, I always felt the slight urge to follow them. Today the urge was especially strong. I listed the reasons in my head why I’d rejected Christianity before. Animal slaughter, slavery, no gay’s rights, degrading women, God killing his own people whom he supposedly loved so much. A voice rang out in my head, clear as a bell, “NO. Don’t do it.” But all I could think about was how much I’d been crying last night, and how my life was getting shittier and shittier. And how one night, when I was laying in bed, I’d asked God to give me a hug and I immediately felt incredibly warm inside, with a feeling like light rising up inside me and making my ears ring. So I thought, maybe I could give this one more shot. And do it right this time.
Well, sitting three rows away from the preacher was definitely a bad idea. I watched him lean over and whisper something in his son’s ear. They were both looking in my direction. Oh crap, I thought. And sure enough, after a minute or so, he signaled the musicians to turn it down a bit. He told us that he felt like there were some people that felt like they wanted to go to the altar, but were afraid of “conviction.” That they were afraid of what people would think, and were trapped because of it. And he said it showed on their faces. He looked at me a couple of times; I know I wasn’t imagining it. Great. Was it that obvious? The song was Amazing Grace, and he said they were going to play the song one more time, and if there was anyone else that wanted to go the altar, now was the time, not next week, not a month from now. He stopped talking and the music started up again. Now I knew I was going to do it, God help me. Another preacher I’d heard once said that if you just take the first step, God would guide you the rest of the way to that altar. So I stepped into the aisle. I felt very weird, like all of the blood was gone from my body and I was just made of tingly air. But that preacher was right, and I managed to make my way to the spot I’d been staring at for twenty minutes now. I didn’t look back to see if Mom and Grandma would follow me.
They were waiting for me. I just know they were. The moment I knelt down, the preacher’s son was at my side. I really like him. He teaches the youth group there, and I’d been a couple of times and he’s a really good teacher, not to mention very good-looking. He laid his hands on my head, and I felt a few more hands on my back. I found my eyes were wet while he just loudly thanked God for the changes that were going on in my heart. Then he knelt by me and asked if I’d ever accepted Jesus as my savior. I answered truthfully, no, I haven’t. I thought I had once, for almost thirteen years I thought I had, but I know I never really knew him. He prayed the sinner’s prayer with me. I remember thinking, I can’t believe I’m doing this.
Someone threw a tissue in my lap as he told me that it wasn’t just going to be a bed of roses from now on. That I would have to change my heart and give my life to God. And that he was proud of me. Then he went to lay his hands on other people, and another girl came to my side. She said I was welcome to the Youth Group meetings on Wednesday nights and that she was so proud of me. She hugged me and left, and I glanced behind me to see that it was Grandma who’d had her hand on me the whole time. And then when the music stopped and we all got up to go back to our seats, I saw Mom had been kneeling beside me. I didn’t speak at all while we sat back down. And then after the sermon, Grandma told me she was proud of me, and Mom gave me a long hug. Something in my heart told me things were going to get better now.
So that was that. Mom asked if I’d rededicated my life to God and I said yes. She doesn’t really need to know.
We went back to Grandma’s and watched a movie and then came back to the house. Big Michael came up to me and said that he’d already talked to Junior and that nothing else better happen between us. I said alright, even though in my head I was already planning on punching Junior in the jaw the day we leave this place.
Sorry this post is so long, I just had to get everything off my chest. Now I have to change my status to “Christian – Other” on Myspace, and replace the ellipses on that survey on the first post with yes’s. Things are gonna change for a while. We’ll see how this goes. (:
