Called to Serve

Cameron got his mission call.

My Dear Cam, who was always too concerned about my asthma, who trusted people and did push-ups and fell in love all so easily, who held me when I cried and thanked me for holding him when he cried, is leaving.

He is leaving to serve The Lord.

And I can't help but be so scared. One of my best friends is going across the world, where he won't know the language or the people or the dangers. He'll be on his own, further from his friends and family than he could ever dream. He could get sick, hurt, scared, lost, depressed, angry, killed.

But I know he is righteous, and I know that God wouldn't let something bad happen unless it would help us and/or us grow. He will protect my Cam until the day he will return with honor, whether that be two months or two years or two millennia from the time he leaves our hands and gives himself fully unto The Lord.

I salute you, Elder Cameron John Thomas. I have the utmost faith in you and God. Together, y'all can bring the gospel to the good people of Korea. You deserve to be a missionary.

Cam Dear, I love you.

Life

I went to the candlelight vigil last night. It was a whole new set of streetlights, like last year, but instead of being alone under the streetlight, I was surrounded by people amidst the candles. So many people got up and spoke with the power of love that I could not even comprehend. It would've been the lowest of many low points for me, but they saved me. I would not have survived without my friends holding me, praying for and with me, relighting my candle, keeping me warm, alive. There are so many who I wanted to tell that I love them, so many people that need to hear it just as much as I need to say it. Life is not too short, but it moves so quickly that sometimes people get lost and lose everything that was keeping them alive. Let's show that we love each other every day.

One day later, I don't remember what the rest of this post was supposed to be.

Death

I don't know know what to do. I'm lost, I'm hurt, I'm dying, I'm dead.

Feeling scared and sad and hateful all the time is not living.

It happens over and over again. It never stops, and there's nothing I can do to even try.

He doesn't love me. She doesn't love me. They don't even realize how much I need them, how their mere existence makes me want to stay alive, how they give me such hope and make me think that if I could just make it through one week or day or hour, then I can be okay.

I'm probably gonna wake up with frostbite.

Rest, dear Josh. Thanks for that one class we had and for being so kind. You deserve to sleep and learn and smile on the inside.

Empty

So much has happened to me.

I had my last guard competition and wept my allotted five times throughout the day. I just might graduate high school. I'm lonely; I'm in love. I'm lost and lazy and lovely, I guess. Lovely, in the sense that I drink tea and would love to read poetry and study ASL if I had time.

I'm turning 18 in about 12 hours.

Somebody make me feel like it's worth it.