Haunted by Bullying Part 1

As I write this blog I have to fight to hold back tears. The year is 2010, before long it will be 2011, so I guess that’s why I’m so broken up about this—to think that something like this could still be going on. What exactly am I talking about? Bullying. I’m sure you’ve heard recently about the gay teens who committed suicide due to bullying from their peers. These bullies were probably admired in their community. They were thought of as good people when, in harsh retrospect ,they helped destroy a life by the words they spoke and the violence they invoked.
These stories really hit home for me—because I, too, was a victim of bullying all throughout my Jr. High School years. I’m sure that you’ve heard that saying, “Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me,” well, I’m here to tell you that that saying is completely false. In reality, physical wounds inflicted will heal over time whereas the words that these bullies throw will stay with a person forever. I can still hear the voices of my bullies calling me harsh names, I can still see their faces as they looked at me like I was somehow less than human.
In Jr. High I was a class clown. I loved to make people laugh. If you weren’t laughing, I wasn’t doing my job right. If I could brighten up someone’s day then mine, in turn, would brighten. I always treated everyone with respect and tried to be friends with all I met. Unfortunately, a lot of people just didn’t like me. The first attack all of my bullies made was on my sexuality— “faggot,” “gay,” “homo,” “fairy.” I didn’t understand why they were saying these things. Honestly, I didn’t know anything about sexuality. I knew I had somewhat of an attraction to boys, but I assumed that was normal. I certainly never did anything that would’ve led anyone to believe I was gay. After they would attack my sexuality they’d go in for their next attack, my appearance—“ugly,” “fugly,” etc.
There were times I just began to quietly sob at my doorstep after school, trying to get all the tears out and put on a happy front so that no one would suspect I was miserable and hated waking up each day. One time I remember doing this and finally, once I was done crying, I wiped away the last tear and told myself to fake yet another smile. As I entered my home, though, and seen the drama that was taking place I broke down. I was so embarrassed. My family had enough problems without me bringing my own problems down on them. Needless to say, that’s when I came clean and told them what was happening at school.
The next day at school we made all the necessary moves to ensure that the bullying would be put to a stop. We spoke with my principal, assistant principal, guidance counselor, some faculty and the school cop—surely with this powerhouse of people the bullying would cease to exist. Sadly, that wasn’t the case. No matter what happened the administration failed to make any necessary moves. I may even go as far as to say that they helped make the bullying worse. The counselors, as well as the rest of the administration, came to believe that the only way to conquer the bullying would be to have me and my bullies talk it out. Of course, the bullies would deny that they said anything. After the counseling sessions the bullies would attack harder with their words and actions, they now started shoving me as hard as they could sometimes even in front of faculty who would just scold the bully and tell them not to do it again.
Once it was apparent that the bullying had seriously spun out of control the best the administration could offer was to have me come in and just talk. They didn’t try to take control of the situation. They didn’t do what people with authoritative power should have, instead they ignored a student in need of rescue.
Eventually, I began considering suicide. It seemed like an easy way out. A way to stop all of the pain. A way to finally feel truly happy again. Thankfully, I didn’t do it. But what if I had? What if I had ended my life early because of the actions of my peers and the actions of the adults in authority? My heart breaks just thinking about it.
I honestly don’t know what kept me going—but I did keep going. Eventually, my 9th grade year, I transferred to a new school and finally was accepted and, for once, felt extremely happy. The bullying was gone. People accepted, liked, and loved me. It was something I’d never had the blessing of feeling before.
Sadly, these teens, who have had their lives taken away, will never get to know how things could’ve been. They have had their lives stolen all because of bullying, all because somebody thought they were superior and almighty. Even though these teens took their own lives I believe that the bullies will be held accountable as well. They helped murder a soul. They helped murder someone’s will to go on. This is a tragedy. A real life tragedy that I guarantee you’ll be able to find in almost every school.
I am tired of turning on the news and hearing about another death due to bullying. My heart is breaking because this is something that can be so easily stopped. This is something that should never have had to happen. In part two of this blog, which will be posted soon, I will explore the bully and the reasons that bullying ,as well as suicide, has increased.
If you are a victim of bullying, please, hold on. I know how you feel—I’ve been there myself. Life is too precious to end, though. You have such potential. You can help change the world all because of these struggles you’re currently experiencing. We need you. The world isn’t going to be the same without you. Please, please, don’t give up. Help is here. The bullying will stop. Live your life. Go on and experience the beauty that is life. I guarantee that you’ll love every moment.
Life is Beautiful.

Each Grain of Sand

Have you ever read a quote and felt as if it were directed at you? If you’re anything like me, then you probably have. There’s one quote in particular by Kaleel Jamison that really smacked me in the face when I read it. This is how it goes, “Relationships - of all kinds - are like sand held in your hand.
Held loosely with an open hand, the sand remains where it is. The minute you close your hand and squeeze tightly to hold on, the sand trickles through your fingers. You may hold on to some of it, but most will be spilled. A relationship is like that. Held loosely, with respect and freedom for the other person, it is likely to remain intact. But hold too tightly, too possessively, and the relationship slips away and is lost.”
I’ve heard that quote several times in my life. I’ve always loved it...but I guess I’ve never really applied it. Recently, having let the quote slip away from my memory, I ran into it again. As I read it I felt like crying. The words were suddenly more powerful than they were the first time I read them. But alas, it opened up my eyes. I am now finally able to see my biggest problem, my biggest hang-up.
The quote, upon reading it again, took me back to my first love. She was the best thing to ever happen to me. I’d been patiently waiting for her and when she was finally my girlfriend…well…it felt like a dream. My love for her was so strong. But, unfortunately, my fear of losing her was too. I constantly worried that she wouldn’t want to be with me, that she’d find someone better and throw me to the curb. I was desperate to make sure that she’d be with me forever. That our love would never fail. I guess to put it in Kaleel’s words I closed my hand and began squeezing tightly to hold on only to see the sand trickling through my fingers.
Needless to say, the sand eventually disappeared from my hand. Our relationship was over. I had lost the one person I’ve ever truly loved. Looking back I am amazed at my mistakes. Everything I did was so possessive, suffocating. My insecurity became my biggest competitor. I became, in a sense, my own worst enemy.
Sadly, I still fight this problem. Almost every relationship I have ever been in has ended because of my fears, my insecurities. Who would’ve thought that one quote could open up someone’s eyes? It’s opened mine. Now I can see where I’ve gone wrong and what I need to do differently. It won’t be easy. But when has anything dealing with love been anything but difficult? I mean, that’s what makes love so amazing, the fact that you have to work at it each and every day.
I am saddened by the way many of my past relationships have been. But this is what life is about, learning from your mistakes, your flaws, and hopefully growing from them as well. I could say that I’m done and that love isn’t worth it. Sometimes I feel that way. But deep down inside I know that love is an amazing thing, the best feeling anyone could feel. So, to any of you that may be just like me, I say be strong. Keep your heads up and remember that you’re an amazing person who deserves someone that will treat you that way. I wish you nothing but love and happiness in your future and I hope that if you have any hang-ups, like me, you’ll try and work them out. Once you find the problem you can fix it. Nothing is impossible with the human mind. So, let’s use it to its fullest potential.
Life Is Beautiful.

Label Me Not

Label. You've heard the word before, right? You know that it has multiple meanings. Well, the definition of label I would like to talk about is how we, as human beings, label one another. I'm sure that at some point in your life, whether you've known of it or not, you have been labeled. I know that I have. I've been labeled as a "class clown," "loser," "preppy," "fag," and much, much more. Plus, I'm sure there are a lot of other labels I didn't hear put upon me.
I guess my main wonder is why? Why do we feel like we need to label each other? Why do we need to distinguish who's who on the label wheel? What gets me is that nobody likes to be labeled. Nobody. A label is so suppressive. It means that that's who you are, that's your depth. Tell me, how can one word or phrase describe one human being? We, as humans, are deep and complicated beings. We're not easily defined or understood. So, why then do we try to simplify something that cannot be simplified any further?
Now, I'm not saying that all labels are horrible and/or that we should abolish labeling. A lot of things are like coins, they have two sides. In other words, life is all about yin and yang. One thing can be used for good or for bad, like the Internet for example. So, furthering on the thought, it is alright for someone to define themselves as something. Many people will label themselves with their religious beliefs, their sexual orientation, and many more things. This labeling makes sense because it is merely clearing up a part of who they are. It's not saying that it's the whole package, it's just the surface of a very complicated being. This label is open, not like the other labels which tend to be open-ended.
Labeling others is never right. Let's just let that be known right now. If the person doesn't identify with that label, or even if they do, it shouldn't be used to describe who that person is and what their life is about. I honestly cannot think of one word to describe myself because one word wouldn't even give you a fraction of knowledge on who I am. I like that. I like that I am so special and unique that no label could really do me full justice. The same goes for you.
Now, I would like to tackle self-labeling in a negative light. I've had plenty of experience negatively labeling myself. "Loser, "ugly," "lacking," etc. Can't you see how horrible this is to your self-esteem? Yes, it kills when other people say these things about you but it obliterates when you say these things about yourself. I want to further on this thought later.
Let's stop labeling. Let's finally embrace each other for our differences. Who cares what someones sexuality is? What someones religion is? etc. Let's just love one another. Let's see the beauty that lies within each and everyone of us. A beauty that is inextinguishable. Let's forget our judgments, because when it all comes down to it that's all labeling is...judging one another. We all know who the real Judge is.
To any who have been labeled negatively I want you to know that you're amazing. You're a good person. God loves you. I love you. Enjoy your life and don't let labels distinguish you.
Life is Beautiful.

Life and Death

Life is short. I’m sure you’ve heard that saying before. I’ve heard it more times than I can remember. Another day is never guaranteed. The problems we, as humans, face are that we don’t know what we’ve got until it’s gone. We don’t fully recognize how blessed we are to have someone in our life until they’re gone.
This September I will be twenty years old, it’s kind of hard to believe. Life has just started speeding by ever since I turned eighteen. Now, as I reflect on my past, I am starting to ponder life more deeply—especially its opposite death. I feel like, although I do appreciate the people and things in my life, I don’t really see how good I have it. I am always focusing on my perceived flaws and what I don’t have compared to others—I’m sure most of you can relate to that feeling in some way. Sadly, that’s the most pettiest and worthless feeling to have. Nothing good comes of it. What do we gain if we feel incomplete within? What good does it do to wish you were someone else? Why not cherish who you are, accept it, and love it?
This life is a test. It’s a challenge. It’s not supposed to be easy. We’re going to have turbulence and sometimes we’re going to have to crash land. But we can endure. We can survive. We can persevere. I would now like to share with you a quote that pretty much sums the whole meaning of life up:

WHAT IS LIFE?
Life is an Adventure ... Dare it
Life is a Beauty ... Praise it
Life is a Challenge ... Meet it
Life is a Duty ... Perform it
Life is a Love ... Enjoy it
Life is a Tragedy ... Face it
Life is a Struggle ... Fight it
Life is a Promise ... Fulfill it
Life is a Game ... Play it
Life is a Gift ... Accept it
Life is a Journey ... Complete it
Life is a Mystery ... Unfold it
Life is a Goal ... Achieve it
Life is an Opportunity ... Take it
Life is a Puzzle ... Solve it
Life is a Song ... Sing it
Life is a Sorrow ... Overcome it
Life is a Spirit ... Realize it

Now, let’s talk about death—the word everyone hates to hear. In my nineteen years on this earth I’ve had many loved ones pass away. My Grandpa, Wesley Long, passed away when I was only two years old, my uncle, Valene, passed away shortly after my Grandpa, my Grandpa, Ray, passed away when I was around thirteen, my Grandma, Donna, passed away shortly after my Grandpa and I was fourteen, and my Grandma, RaNee, passed away when I was eighteen.
Life with no grandparents is very different. If you still have a Grandma or Grandpa alive I advise you to keep in contact with them. Cherish them. They can teach you many great things—no matter how much you already know. I would now like to share one of my favorite poems that describes how I feel about my grandparents:

I think of you often
and make no outward show,
But what it means to lose you,
no one will ever know
You wished no one farewell,
not even said good-bye,
You were gone before I knew it,
and only God knows why.
You are not forgotten
nor will you ever be,
As long as life and memories last,
I will remember thee.
To some you may be forgotten,
to others a part of the past,
But to me who loved you dearly,
your memories will always last.
Nothing can be more beautiful
than the memories I have of you.
To me, you were someone special,
God must have thought so too!
If tears could build a staircase
and memories a lane,
I would walk all the way to Heaven,
and bring you back again.

Death is sad only for those left behind—a sweet release for the one experiencing it. Yes, sometimes death comes untimely. It’s a tragedy. But, quoting Bhagavad Gita, “The end of birth is death; the end of death is birth: this is ordained! And mournest thou, Chief of the stalwart arm! For what befalls which could not otherwise befall?” In other words, there is life after death. Death is not the end. It, my friends, is only the beginning. We will see the ones we lost along the way again. We will reunite. That, in and of itself, brings more peace than anything.
I would like to share another beautiful quote with you from White Elk, “When you were born, you cried and the world rejoiced. Live your life so that when you die, the world cries and you rejoice.” Live for today because tomorrow may never come. Remember the ones you love who have passed on. Quoting Chief Dan George, “May the stars carry your sadness away, may the flowers fill your heart with beauty, may hope forever wipe away your tears, and, above all, may silence make you strong.”
In closing, I want to give my condolences and love to everyone that has lost someone they love. It is rough. No matter how much time goes by you will always miss them. But take great cheer and comfort in knowing that one day we all will reunite. As sour as dying can be—death is but a sweet release into another phase of life.
Life is Beautiful.

Universal Effects

Life is hard; we already know that personally and socially. Why, then, do we constantly persecute others? Almost 30% of youth in the United States (or over 5.7 million) are estimated to be involved in bullying as either a bully, a target of bullying, or both. (SafeYouth.org).
Sadly, most people who are bullied usually think, attempt, or commit suicide to find relief from the torture of everyday life. Shockingly, every 16 minutes someone in the United States takes their life. Approximately around 30,000 people commit suicide each year. Below is a tragic story about a girl who committed suicide due to someone's cruelty:
Megan Meier had had a rough life. Her 7th grade year in Jr. High was so hard that her Mom eventually decided to move her to a different school for 8th grade. Things looked like they were going to shape up. Soon, Megan decided she'd like to have a MySpace account, eager to make more friends. Reluctantly, her mother agreed. Quickly, she met Josh Evans, a 16 year old boy who lived in a nearby city and was home schooled. The two constantly talked online. Megan reported to her family that her "spirits lifted."
Unfortunately, Josh Evans was not a real person. He was Lori Drew, Megan's ex-best friend's Mother. On October 15, 2006, the tone of the messages changed, with Lori saying (via the account), "I don't know if I want to be friends with you anymore because I've heard that you are not very nice to your friends." Soon, Megan's letters were spread across the bulletins of MySpace, and more rude letters were sent to her from "Josh."
Adamantly, Christina Meier, Megan's Mother, ordered her to get offline and stay out of the fight. Megan, however, didn't listen, she wanted to defend herself. Eventually, she soon reported back to her Mother distraught from all of the hurtful things. Christina, however, soon became angry that her daughter didn't listen to her order to get off of the computer. After the argument Megan ran back up to her room. According to her father, Ronald Meier, and a neighbor who had discussed the hoax with Lori, the last message "Josh" sent read: "Everybody in O'Fallon knows how you are. You are a bad person and everybody hates you. Have a shitty rest of your life. The world would be a better place without you." Megan responded with a message reading: "You're the kind of boy a girl would kill herself over." She was found twenty minutes later, hanging by her neck in a closet. The following day she was pronounced dead.
Lori Drew had talked to fellow neighbors about the hoax and had laughed and said she wanted to, "Mess with Megan." Thankfully, Lori is now serving time in jail.
How could anyone do this? How could anyone be so cruel? Do we realize that everything we do has a universal impact? Here's another story:
A teenaged boy who was constantly picked on at school had had it. He couldn't take anymore. So, that day, he decided that after school he'd go home and kill himself. As he came to this decision he was tripped and dropped all of his textbooks. This only seemed to enforce the idea of suicide more powerfully through his head. That's when a real popular guy at the school stopped, bent down, and helped him pick up his books. He then said four easy, simplistic words, "Have a good day." He saved that boy's life, because after that incident he realized that there were still nice people out there. That popular boy didn't know, though, until years later at the High School Reunion when the bullied boy came up to him and told him.
Everything we do has a universal effect. Everything. Here is another story, this one is about me:
My Jr. High years, mainly 7th and 8th grade, were a huge struggle. People were constantly picking on me. I was constantly beat up and sexually harassed. I felt worthless.
There were times I’d come home trying to keep up my happy façade and then suddenly just break down and fall apart.
Despite all of the constant torment, however, I tried staying optimistic. I loved making people laugh, I just took pleasure in seeing joy on others faces. I’d go out of my way to make a new friend. Unfortunately, it was very rare to find anyone who really liked me. To most of the other students I was just something amusing, something to study and then discard into the trash. Day in and day out I was called a faggot, it didn’t help that I was also struggling with my own sexuality around then too. Faggot was my name, gay boy, too. Nobody, but a select few, wanted to associate with me.
One day, a particularly hard one, I was talking to one of my only friends when all of a sudden a guy, whom I had never met before, came up to me and started causing trouble.
After a few harsh words he soon pushed me as hard as he could into the door jam. I then fell to the ground, unable to defend myself. At that exact moment the bell rang and the halls were immediately filled with students. Everyone could see me lying there on the floor in pain—but no one cared.
The bruise, as you can imagine, was horrible. I couldn’t stop crying. I remember staying in the bathroom trying to debate if I should report the incident or not. Eventually, I decided I had to report it. When I reported the event, however, I was believed by some of the faculty but mostly I was accused of having started the fight. The school officer even went as far as to say that I pressed charges on the kid that that kid could file them on me and have a stronger case.
They all saw my back. They all knew that it was bruised from the top to the bottom, they even had documented pictures. And, if that wasn’t enough, they also had a recording of the actual event. The kid did get suspended, though many believed I should’ve been suspended instead. After that things just got ten times worse. I was the prime target for many people—even a few teachers.
For the first time I will admit that I did contemplate suicide. Several times I was more than ready to end it all, it could’ve been so easily done. I didn’t see a silver lining. I didn’t see a happy ending on the horizon. But, thankfully, Heavenly Father preserved me. He gave me the strength to endure. He gave me another chance to think things over.
I wish I could report that things eventually went well at that school and that people soon realized how wrong they’d been and apologized to me sincerely. But that’d be one big fat lie. However, the silver lining eventually came during my 9th grade year. After enduring immediate abuse at the beginning of the year we decided it was time to switch schools, the new school changed my life all for the better and gave me a newfound hope in humanity.
Having gone through being bullied I now know that everything we do is universal. What we do to others will impact them, either positively or negatively. So, I plead with you all let’s change the world. Let’s be kinder. When we change someone’s life, let it be because we did something for them that helped them out. If you want a change in the world it has to start with you. So, are you ready? Will you do the right thing?
Life is Beautiful.

Accepting Me

“Accept each other just as Christ has accepted you; then God will be glorified.” Romans 15:7. Paul definitely spoke these words from inspiration. It seems like today many Christians and non-Christians need to see this scripture and apply it into their daily lives. I like guys and to many Christians and non-Christians that is considered a horrible sin. But yet, Christ accepts me and loves me as I am. Troy Perry said it best, “The Lord is my Shepherd and he knows I’m gay.” So, who really is committing a horrible sin? It would appear that those who are judging and taking on the role of God are, for they’re acting like they know His will and have the right to pass judgment. But really they should just be accepting and know that we are all loved by God. He is the only judge and He doesn’t think lesbians, gays, or bisexuals are evil.
Being in the closet is not fun. Having to fight and try to maintain your natural feelings is not noble. But yet many religions preach just that. “Homosexual behavior is of particular concern because it violates God’s commandments and blocks your eternal progress.” They also spout lies like this, “Yes, this is an alterable condition. However, people must desire to move away from it and receive appropriate help. The condition has two aspects: feelings and behaviors. We believe homosexual behaviors are out of harmony with God’s intentions for men and women. Those who wish to stop their homosexual behavior can do so. The feelings associated with same-sex attraction can be diminished.” I love this quote by Harvey Fierstein, “Never be bullied into silence. Never allow yourself to be made a victim. Accept no one’s definition of your life; define yourself.”
Sadly, many lesbian, gay, and bisexual people end up committing suicide each year because of all of the discrimination and hate they receive. Stuart Matis, a gay LDS man, had a lot of trouble reconciling his sexuality to his religion. Deep inside he knew his sexuality was a part of who he was but on the other hand his religion meant a lot to him as well and he believed in it. So, he soon tried to teach others to be more accepting, to his fellow students at BYU he said: "I implore the students at BYU [Brigham Young University] to re-assess their homophobic feelings. Seek to understand first before you make comments. We have the same needs as you. We desire to love and be loved. We desire to live our lives with happiness. We are not a threat to you or your families. We are your sons, daughters, brothers, sisters, neighbors, co-workers and friends, and most importantly, we are all children of God."
Unfortunately, on February 25, 2000 Stuart Matis drove to the LDS chapel in Los Altos, California, and took his life. He was 32 years old. His final words were found on his suicide note: “The church has no idea that as I type this letter, there are surely boys and girls on their callused hands and knees imploring God to free them of their pain. They hate themselves. They retire to bed with their fingers pointed to their heads in the form of a gun. I am now free. I am no longer in pain and I no longer hate myself. As it turns out, God never intended me to be straight. Hopefully, my death might be a catalyst for some good.”
How can anyone say that love is wrong? Stuart Matis was an amazing guy who, sadly, was torn down by unaccepting peers. But yet, I hear people constantly say that homosexuality is a disease and that God abhors anyone who embraces it. I must’ve missed the lesson where Jesus said to hate gay people. Hate should have no place within anyone’s heart—let alone someone who preaches love.
For years, I battled my feelings. “It’s wrong and evil.” “Homosexuality is a perversion.” “God hates gay people.” But yet, I had trouble accepting that any of that was true. I have a lesbian sister and when I seen her I didn’t see someone who was wrong or evil, a pervert, or anyone God would hate. I saw someone who was like anyone else—with just one difference in that she preferred women over men. Still, though, I could not accept that I was like that.
Of course, if you try hard enough you can run away from the truth—but don’t be fooled, eventually it catches up and when it does it smacks you hard in the face. That’s what it did to me. So, at last, I decided to embrace my sexuality, a process that took a long while before I felt secure enough to announce publicly.
James Baldwin said, “Everybody’s journey is individual. If you fall in love with a boy, you fall in love with a boy. The fact that many Americans consider it a disease says more about them than it does homosexuality.” Once I accepted me for me I felt the greatest peace and contentment—something I’d been searching for forever. The best part of it all was that I finally learned that God and Christ accepted me this way because they made me this way!
Francis Maude said, “It always seemed to me a tad bit pointless to disapprove of homosexuality. It’s like disapproving of rain.” But still, many people make it their life’s goal to make everyone understand that homosexuality is “bad,” a “sin,” and an “abomination.” Well, to those people I simply say, “Get a life!” If my sexuality is honestly the best thing you have to talk about then you really need to get out more. Why not just love and accept each other for our differences instead of attack each other because of them?
To close this article I want to use a great quote by Lucille Ball, “It’s a helluva start, being able to recognize what makes you happy.” I finally admitted that I liked guys…and suddenly I started feeling truly happy. No longer was I living in a lie, I was living the life I was meant to live. But the journey doesn’t end here—it has only just begun.
Life is Beautiful.

Grandma Long, An Angel Sent from Heaven

The best of the rest
You knew this life was a test
We were so blessed,
With a real angel abreast.
You taught us love,
Taught that we came from above,
Children of God,
And now you’re with Him,
A soaring dove.
Can’t believe you’re gone,
The godlike woman who lived the Gospel of the Lord,
Now obtaining her reward,
Always and forever to be adored.
But still we here shed these tears,
Remembering all of those years,
And the way you wiped away all of our fears.
Your memory shall be everlasting,
As this world keeps on branching,
And when we’re drowning in our sorrows,
Your beautiful teachings we shall follow.
So, as the days go by,
We will look up at the sky,
And know that at long last you can spread your wings and fly.



Monday, March 23, 2009 started out like any other day. Yes, it was a Monday and it didn’t help that I was eagerly anticipating the weekend—I’d be going to visit my Grandma—but I tried to remind myself that with each passing day I’d be closer to my visit with Grandma.
When I got home from school that day I fixed myself something to eat when suddenly the phone rang. We were informed that Grandma had collapsed and was being rushed to the Payson Hospital. I didn’t know what was happening. The world just stopped spinning. I could hear my heart breaking. Immediately, my Mom and I started praying. But, for some reason, I couldn’t stop crying. I was pretty much sobbing. My Mom tried comforting me and we reminded each other that we had to stay positive—Grandma was still alive after all.
We immediately rushed to Payson from Lehi, which is about 30 or so miles away. The drive seemed to drag on and on. 30 miles felt more like 100. So many thoughts were filling my head. All I really wanted to do, though, was to immediately embrace my Grandma and tell her how much I love her.

When we finally arrived at the hospital we rushed in as fast as we could. One of the nurses soon took us back to Grandma’s room. I couldn’t wait to see her. As we opened Grandma’s door, though, we were hit with sobs and tears. My heart shattered. My best friend, my Grandma, hadn’t made it.
It didn’t seem possible. I was so sure she had made it. I could feel her presence. It felt like she was still there, just merely resting. It wasn’t long before I broke down in sobs. It suddenly hit me—I would never get to spend the weekend with Grandma again. She was gone. Why didn’t I just spend the weekend prior to her death with her? I was supposed to. But I rescheduled. Why?! Why didn’t I just spend it with her?
Slowly, I held my beautiful Grandma’s hand. It was still warm. She wasn’t supposed to die. She was supposed to live a long, long time—at least a 101 years. How could God take her away from me?
Now, before I go any further I’d like to take you back to what caused my Grandma’s death. After a doctors visit one day, Grandma learned that she had an aortic aneurism. The doctors soon put a time stamp on her and told her that when it burst she would instantly pass away. This news, of course, devastated Grandma. We, however, were determined to keep her positive and remind her that no one but God could give our lives a time stamp. We just wanted her to stay positive because we knew that positivity could keep her alive a lot longer.
Grandma, however, kept telling us that she felt that Christmas of 2008 would be the last Christmas she’d ever have with us on this earth. So, with that sentiment in her heart she bought everyone in our family presents—we have a huge family, by the way. This didn’t matter to her. She just wanted everyone to be happy, to get everything that they wanted. Everyone certainly got wonderful gifts from her and she took pleasure in seeing and hearing that people enjoyed what she had bought them.
My mind now flashes to the weekend of the 13th of March 2009, the last time I saw my Grandma. We had so much fun. We talked about various things and she eagerly talked to me about my then-girlfriend, Abish. She had bought us promise rings that I’d given to Abish on Valentine’s Day of that year. She was a huge supporter of our relationship. We talked about so many things. We did so many things—and yet I still feel like I never really appreciated the time I had with her. I didn’t cherish it enough.
During my visit we soon decided to watch a movie, The Bucket List. Isn’t that ironic? For those of you who don’t know what this movie is about it stars Morgan Freeman and Jack Nicholson and it’s about two older men who are about to die and how they decide to make a bucket list, things they want to do before they kick the bucket. It’s a great film and I recommend it. But a part of me can’t help but wonder if maybe this was Grandma’s subtle clue to me that she didn’t have long to live—I wholeheartedly believe that she knew that her time here on earth was nearly over, she may not have known the exact date she’d pass over, but she knew that it was coming soon.
When I left that weekend, Grandma begged me to stay longer. She wanted more time with me. She told me that she’d miss me so much. I told her, though, that I’d be back next weekend. Reluctantly, she soon agreed that that’d be good. She was so excited to have me comeback. We soon kissed and hugged…and I left. I didn’t come over the next weekend because of a reason I will not write. But I promised that I’d come over the weekend after that—needless to say, that weekend never came and never will.
Now, let’s go back to Payson Hospital where sobs and tears are abundant, where a young man lost his last grandparent. Suddenly, I could see how important family truly is for people. My Grandma, the matriarch of the family, wanted us all to see how important togetherness was and how we should never forget what matters the most—each other. Her message was love. Her life was love.
As I sat there, staring at my Grandma and still feeling her presence I suddenly felt compelled to look down at my hand and in my palm I found green glitter. At first I tried to convince myself I merely touched something that had glitter on it. But then I felt a chill, a warm one, almost as though my Grandma were embracing me. It wasn’t long before I found another piece of green glitter in the palm of my hand. Even after I left I began seeing green glitter everywhere, especially scattered in my room, and I had no glitter that’s for sure. I’ve no doubt that that was my Grandma’s way of comforting me, of telling me that she’s still with me.
My next challenge was to perform at my Choir concert the next day, March 24, 2009. Grandma was planning on going, in fact, she was anxious to come. She couldn’t wait to hear me sing my solo. How could I perform? How could I make it without breaking down? Well, before we set foot onstage I did breakdown. But thankfully, my friends were there to comfort me. They held me as I sobbed, having heard of my loss. It didn’t help that one of the songs we sang was Sing Me To Heaven, I dedicated it to my Grandma though. Before long, my solo came. I sang the solo in Old Time Religion. As I performed I could feel Grandma. She was there with me, onstage. I could feel her love pouring down on me.
Readers, I know that this blog has been sad. My best friend, my confidante, my ‘date’, my inspiration, my Grandma passed away a year ago on March 23, 2010. But she left with us lasting memories, an unforgettable legacy. She was 84 years old when she passed away, just a month shy of her 85th birthday on April 18th, 2009.
Life is short. Another day is never guaranteed. We need to cherish each and every day as if it’s our last. I know that if I had the chance to go back I would’ve done so many things differently with my Grandma, I would’ve stolen more hugs and kisses and just lived in the moment. Be thankful for the time God gives us with the ones we love, be thankful for them. Tell the ones you love that you love them, make sure they know that they’re appreciated, that you cherish each and every moment you share with them.
I am no longer angry at God for taking away my Grandma. She was an angel He sent to earth to enrich and touch others’ lives—and she had done just that in her 84 years of life and so God called her Home. He took away all of her pain, took away all of her worries, and gave her a new and everlasting life with health abundant, happiness abundant, and peace beyond our comprehension.
I know that one day I will see my Grandma again and I cannot wait for that day. I know that the first thing I will do is give her a hug and kiss and tell her how much I’ve missed her. But for once I will be happy and at peace because I’ll know that never again will I have to worry about losing her or any of my loved ones again as we live in peace, harmony, and love under God’s wing.
Life is Beautiful.

Life as a Hopeless Romantic

Ask anyone that knows me how they would describe me—I guarantee that one of the most frequent things you’ll hear is, “He’s a hopeless romantic,” and if they don’t outright blatantly say it they’ll hint toward it very slyly.
I am a hopeless romantic. It is no lie. Is it a good trait? Is it a bad trait? Is it a bit of both? I honestly don’t know any of the answers to those questions. But I do believe, in my own personal opinion, that it can be a bit of both. Love is a beautiful thing. The best thing ever. I’ve experienced it. I’ve breathed it. Nothing quite compares.
As you know, from my first blog, I went into great detail about my first true love. That story was and is still very near and dear to my heart, although the relationship is truly over. Ever since that relationship, however, I’ve found it hard to move forward. Every attempt I’ve made, thus far, has turned out fruitless. Nothing ever comes of any step I make. I can’t begin to explain how hard I’ve wracked my brain trying to figure out ways to move on. At first, I think I was unwilling to move forward—but now I’d give anything to be able to love and be loved in return.
Now, what I’m about to tell you is my own personal story—but the theme in it is one you all will probably immediately recognize. This theme has been featured in literature, film, television, et cetera. So, what is this tales theme? Well, it’s a theme I’m sure every hopeless romantic has encountered at least once in their lives—unrequited love.
On January 21st, 2010 it became pretty clear that I was more than eager to move forward with my love life—I had my first real date in a very long time. This date was with someone, no surprise here, that I met on a dating site. The chemistry was there—I’d no doubt. We had talked for several weeks prior to our actually date. His name? Well let’s just call him Bryan.
Right from the moment I saw him, I knew he was the one I was meant to move forward with. Thankfully, my mother saw it too. She exclaimed that Bryan and I had more chemistry than Maria and me. From what I could tell, Bryan felt the same way. He couldn’t take his eyes off of me. I, of course, couldn’t keep mine off of him either. There was a spark between us that I’d never really felt that strong before.
We had the usual date—dinner and a movie, except we did it backward. The whole time during the movie I wanted to hold his hand, but I am a bit shy when it comes to that sort of thing, (which is strange considering I’m really outgoing most of the time). Needless to say, the holding hands during the movie thing never happened. We then headed to a fancy restaurant for dinner, McDonald’s. While we ate we actually got to have a meaningful conversation. Unsurprisingly, the topic Bryan soon brought up was that of my sexuality. “Why, if you’re bisexual, not just date a girl instead of a guy? I mean, I know I would if I was even remotely attracted to them.” I didn’t really have to contemplate that question for too long, though. “Well, ever since Maria,” I began, “I haven’t really felt that strong of an attraction to another girl. I guess you could say Maria’s the only girl I’ll ever really love truly.” The reply seemed to somewhat satisfy Bryan’s curiosity.
The conversation, during our meal, took several turns. We then began talking about how strict and unaccepting his parents were about his sexuality. I felt for him as he told me, sadly, that every night his parents prayed he’d become straight. I just wanted to comfort him as he addressed his fears. I wanted to remind him that he wasn’t alone. I guess it was even easier for me to understand where he was coming from considering we both came from Mormon (LDS) backgrounds.
Well, on our ride back to my house he soon did something that caught me off guard, (he is a really shy person), he opened up his hand—eagerly I placed mine into his and they soon intertwined. He soon admitted he’d wanted to do that during the movie, too. It felt right, it felt perfect. Right then I was more than sure that this was the real thing.
After a short visit, Bryan soon had to head back home. As I walked him to his car I became very nervous, as I’m sure everyone does after an amazing date. Will we kiss? Will we hug? Will we do both? Will we do neither? Well, as my mind and heart raced at the possibilities Bryan soon asked if we could kiss. My heart was thumping now. I soon leaned in for the kiss and it was so intense, so passionate, and so real. Really, the only way I can even begin to describe how I felt would be to use this quote from Drew Barrymore’s character Josie Gellar in the movie Never Been Kissed, “That moment, when you kiss someone and everything around becomes hazy and the only thing in focus is you and this person and you realize that that person is the only person that you're supposed to kiss for the rest of your life, and for one moment you get this amazing gift and you want to laugh and you want to cry because you feel so lucky that you found it and so scared that it will go away all at the same time.”
Well, needless to say, we kissed and hugged several times. Geez, even the hug was fantastic. Oh, and for a touch of comedic proportions—during one of our intense kisses one of the guys at my house, who was laying carpet for us, came out and saw us. Let’s just say he couldn’t seem to take his eyes away—even when he tried. It was quite funny and was surprisingly not awkward at all. Bryan, however, soon asked me if we should stop. He didn’t want me to keep going if I didn’t want to. I soon told him, “Why stop? I am proud of who I am. I have nothing to hide,” the answer seemed to suit him well and we continued kissing.
So, as he prepared to leave I soon asked him one last question, “So, does this mean we’re officially boyfriends?” and much to my chagrin he replied, “Yep!” I was so happy and ecstatic. At last, I was moving forward—but not with just anyone, with someone who I actually clicked with and had an undeniable chemistry.
Unfortunately, this fairy tale that suddenly seemed to be blooming for me eventually turned into a cruel joke. After a couple of days I noticed that Bryan wasn’t really acting like himself. Something was off. Something wasn’t right. So, I did what I always do—I put on a brave front and asked him if everything was okay between us, even though deep down inside I was shaking in fear.
Sadly, Bryan soon told me that it was over. He suddenly realized he had no feelings for me. He was simply, “just caught in the moment.” My heart, my soul, my whole life was crushed. I am a hopeless romantic. I fall fast. I fall hard. I loved him—I love him. Even as I’m writing this I pray that maybe he’ll open his eyes and love me too.
But, alas, this story is about unrequited love. Distraught, one day I asked him what I did to make him call it off. Sadly, he didn’t have any concrete answers for me. He didn’t let me know what I did or what I need to improve on. He just simply said, “…you just need to get your life on track.”
The world can get you down. It’s no secret. After this whole event I spiraled down an endless staircase of negativity. But now I’m ready to brush off the dirt and mud that I’ve been swimming in and start over. My heart is still broken. It’s crushed, to be honest. But life is what you make of it. I’m tired of living a tragedy. I’m tired of hearing, “You’re not my type,” I’ve heard one too many times. Now it’s time for me to move forward. To combat all of the negative energy that engulfs me with positivity and hope for a brighter tomorrow.
So, this goes out to anyone who has ever fallen in love with someone and never had the feeling reciprocated. You’re an amazing person. There is nothing wrong with you. You are loveable. I may know you. I may not. Either way I love you. I know that it hurts. I know that the pain never truly goes away—but just know that you’re never alone. In the end, this event will make you grow into an even better person. I know it. You know it.
Life is Beautiful.