continuation

there are about three things i do daily. talk to Jesus, wash my hair, and think about writing or write something. when i touch the ink to my paper it is like an immigrant stepping off the dock of the ship and onto the land he once called home. i write for the same reason an artist paints or sings - to express myself in a way other than the expected smile or tears.

if you read my previous pondering you will understand that what i am going through would be impossible if it weren't for divine intervention. thankfully i won't have to know what that is like, since it is being so graciously provided by this awesome guy i know.

about 5 ft away from the right wall in my bedroom there is a candle wax stain. i've always laughed when i saw it, for it reminded me of mark, my brother who was previously occupying my room, and his constant burning of a candle. now, that same spot sends my brain a message telling my head to lower and think of all the other small things i will forever remember.
i don't know if i've ever loved a thing more than i love my home. i love my dad's suburban because we've had it for two years and it holds so many starbucks-on-sunday's filled memories. but when i think of this house that we've owned for four years (which is quite a feat for the abare family), i just want to wrap myself around a beam that supports the upstairs and picket my way out of moving. when i go outside to watch moni home and she reminds me that it may be my last time to do so, i want to take up residency on the sidewalk so i can watch her home anytime i'd like. when i'm driving in the car and singing with moni at the top of my lungs "billie jean" and think of how it will also be one of the last times to enjoy that simple pleasure, i want to film every moment then watch the video tape on repeat, so as not to give my mind even a single chance to forget the wonder of my four years with her.

i love laying in my bed and looking at all the nail-holes-gone-bad that are patched up with spackle. oh how i wish everything "gone-bad" in my life could be as quick as a fix as the millions of mistakes on my ceiling and walls. every time i hurt i could just slap some spackle on and paint over. unfortunately the move i am making is not a spackle fix. it is a giant hole that needs to be sheetrocked (with two layers if possible) again.