I Saw God Cry Today

I Saw God Cry Today

And it was for me...
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The metal blade runs across the railing, screeching like a car crash as the sparks flew from the contact point and dances in the moonlight and fades into emptiness. Fade, that sounds good to me. Just fade away, never to be heard of again. The rusty blade screeches on the railing once more. The dingy little pocket knife is getting sharper. I just want to fade... that is why I have this rusty blade. The railing scrapes the rust right off the blade. The shiny edge of metal is warm from friction. Screeeeech! The blade sparks with a passion across the railing. Ah! Red flooded down my forearm from the cut of my hand. Damn knife. Guess it is sharp enough. A calm cool night, perfect. It just rained. I like to come outside after a rain storm. The air is nice a moist with a chill hanging around. A chill that needs no coat. The blade rests on the railing. Screech! That sounds sends a chill down my spine. Holding the knife firm in my hand. This knife is my ticket. I’m leaving this place tonight.

The unfinished bridge. Or as I would come to call it, my grave. It is the perfect spot. My life feels like a bridge to nowhere. They started this bridge with hopes of finishing it. But a lack of budget, interest, and a labor strike caused the bridge to never be complete. Like my life. I am a punching bag. Look at me, I’m just not the person that gets things. I “earn” the consolation prizes of life. Nothing comes easy but rejection. The moonlight starts to disappear as the bridge fades into the Darkness. Darkness is my only friend. It hides my pain so I do not have to look at it anymore. The stone is cold underfoot as small bits of gravel fall from the bridge into the calm water below. The creek at the end of the bridge is my last sight of this world. I hop down to sit on the end of the bridge, my legs dangling off the edge. The sharp edge of the blade flickers in the remaining light. Then the Darkness comes overhead and communes all. No light, no hope. Heee-ah! I look at my hand with the red line cut through my palm as the elixir of life steadily falls to my elbow. The pain shoots through that arm.

The blade comes to my skin. The scarred tissue on my wrist feels the cool metal of the knife. The tender skin breaks at a flick of the wrist. The metal plunges into my skin. Red flows from the wound as the blade starts to move down the wrist. Red, red and more red as the cursed fluid leaves my body. Good riddance. Hot tears come from my eyes as a reflex. I do not want them there; just one more thing to go wrong. Boom! The sky gets angry and claps with a thunderous noise. The blade leaves my skin. Water from the heavens hits my forehead, drip. Drip, drip, Boom! Light flashes and crashes to my right, cutting a tree in two. Cut right down the middle. One flash and explosion of damage and then nothing. Ten feet off. The water falls with power. It comes down like a flood. The water is abundant and salty to the taste. It washes the red from my wrist. I can’t even kill myself right. The water makes a noise with the creek and the water rises to meet my feet. Well, at least I could drown. The heat of the earth increases with rage as the rain hits the dirt and sizzles, forming a fog-ish steam. The water of the falling rain turns warm with sorrow. The world starts to spin as the fog grows thicker and thicker until I simply cannot see. The white steam does not carry heat as it engulfs me. My misty prison is so thick I think my knife could cut into it. Then it stops spinning. The fog clears and I am not on the bridge anymore.

A man sits on a work bench, his back turned to me as his shoulders jump up and down. He is crying. I reach out my left hand to comfort him. My hand shakes with nerves. Though this man appears to be right in front of my face, as I reach out I miss him entirely. Suddenly, he is a world away as a great hallway appears between us. The walls of this place are barren. All I want is to be closer to him. I stand up… Time slows down as my body shoots up to stand straight as an arrow. The blade falls to the floor with a clink and a clamor. My feet move without consulting my brain. I am running. Down the hall to this man. He seems to only get further with every step. I want to know him. I will know him. I need to know him. The hallway becomes a blur as time catches up. And just like that, I am close enough to place my hand on his back. He is full of muscle with great broad shoulders. He wears a rough leather vest with a soft blue shirt underneath. My blood stains his shoulder. As he stops crying my hand shakes. My fingers feel power come to them from his shoulder. He stands up from his stool, straightening his back as his hair falls down. Judging by the length of this person’s hair, maybe I jumped the gun saying it was a man. A hand rests on top of mine. The skin of this his - or her - hand is soft and plush. The smooth fingers feel good on my skin. The hand has skin like a newborn. It stays silent. The fingers of the hand just rub my scarred left wrist. This action comforts me, but who is this? Why are they crying? And how did I get here?

“Excuse me, but who are you?” I asked. Silence. “Are you okay?” Silence. “Why were you crying?” Silence. “Where are we?” Silence. “This is not real.” The rubbing stops. “I’m dreaming. There is no way this is real.” The hand removes itself from mine. I take my hand back. I look on the floor for my knife.

“Why must you cut me?” A booming voice fills the room.

“Excuse me,” I said, not knowing who this person is, “I never hurt you.” The person at the work bench moves but I cannot see their face. A rough and rugged hand grabs my arm and holds it with force in front of my face.

“Here.” The callused hand would not let go and forced me to look at my wrist. “Why do you turn your head?” it asked me.

“I just do not want to see it.”

“No, you just want to die by it.” It lets go and my hand falls to my side. It turns to its work bench, hammering away and making some unseen item. Its shoulders are in the way.

“Why do you care? You have no idea what it is like. I used to have hope, but they beat it out of me. All I hear is no. Rejection is the only thing I am good at! My heart is more scarred than my wrist. See? Even you turn your back to me. No cares.”

“No one?” the voice says as the tools stop on the bench.

“Yes, no one. I am alone. I am not the person that wins. My entire existence is to lose, get passed over, beaten, bruised, and I'm worthless.” The word leaves my mouth and materializes in the air as if it could fly over to It at the bench. The word hits Its ears and the tools fall from Its hands. It nose sniffles and Its shoulder jumps again.

“Worthless?” it says through the tears.

“Yes, worthless.”

“How do you know that?”

“Life killed me.”

“Life does not kill. Life has purpose. With every life comes a definite service. A service trusted only to that one who the service was given.”

“You don’t know me! You cannot judge me! This is my life! I can do what I want!”

“And you chose to throw it away?” The red blood on my wrist smears on my pant leg and drips onto the floor. Drip, drip, drip.

“I… I guess… what do you know?” I turn to walk away. I hear a great sigh like booming thunder as the salty tears hit the work bench.

“136,567”

“What?”

“136,567”

“What does that mean?”

“That is the number of hairs on your head.” It reaches out and grabbed my arm. A gentle hand with soft skin holds the back of my hand in Its palm. Its other hand covers my scarred wrist. The soft skin glides across my hand and my wounds are healed. It shows me the palm of the hand that healed me and upon the palm is a picture of me carved into it. And just like that, I am back on the bridge, the rusty blade next to me. There is still time to finish what I started. Bending down to pick up the knife, I stop and look up to the dark sky. Where before there was nothing but darkness, I now see one single star. Suddenly, I can no longer stand the sight of the knife. I use my shoe to kick it into the water. As soon as the knife hits with a plop sound, the rain stops. Then a rainbow appeared….

Cover Image Credit: Grapvine

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To The Boy Who Will Love Me Next

If you can't understand these few things, leave before things get too involved
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To the boy that will love me next, I need you to know and understand things about me and my past. The things I have been though not only have shaped the person I’ve become, but also sometimes controls my life. In the past I’ve been used, abused, and taken for granted, and I want something real this time. The guys before you were just boys; they didn’t know how to treat me until it was too late. They didn’t understand how to love me, until I broke my own heart. Before you truly decide to love me I want you to understand these things.

When I tell you something, please listen.

I’m my own person, I want to be loved a certain way. If I ask you to come over and watch movies with me please do it, if I ask for you to leave me alone for a few hours because it’s a girl’s night please do it. I don’t just say things to hear my own voice, I say things to you because it’s important to my life and the way I want to be loved. I’m not a needy person when it comes to being loved and cared for, but I do ask for you to do the small things that I am say.

Forgive my past.

My past is not a pretty brick road, it is a highway that has a bunch of potholes and cracks in it. I have a lot of baggage, and most of it you won’t understand. But don’t let my past decided whether you want to love me or not. My past has helped form who I am today, but it does not define who I am. My past experiences might try and make an appearance every once in a while, but I will not go back to that person I once was, I will not return to all that hurt I once went though. When I say those things, I’m telling the complete and honest truth. I relive my past every day, somethings haunt me and somethings are good reminds. But for you to love me, I need you to accept my past, present and future.

I’m just another bro to the other guys.

I have always hung out with boys, I don’t fit in with the girl groups. I have 10 close girlfriends, but the majority of my friends are guy, but don’t let this scare you. If I wanted to be with one of my guy friends I would already be with him, and if you haven’t noticed I don’t want them because I’m with you. I will not lose my friendships with all my guy friends to be able to stay with you. I will not cut off ties because you don’t like my guy friends. I have lost too many buddies because of my ex-boyfriends and I promised myself I wouldn’t do that again. If you don’t like how many guy friends I have you can leave now. Don’t bother trying to date me if you can accept the fact I’m just another bro.

I might be a badass, but I actually have a big heart.

To a lot of people I come off to be a very crazy and wild girl. I will agree I can be crazy and wild, but I’m more than that. I’m independent, caring, responsible, understanding, forgiving, and so such more type of woman. Many people think that I’m a badass because I don’t take any negatively from anyone. Just like we learned when we were younger, “if you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say it at all.” Most people can’t do that in today’s world, so I stick up for myself and my friends. I don’t care what anyone thinks about me, or their option on how I live my life. The only thing I care about is being able to make myself happy. Even though I’m an independent woman, understand that I do have a big heart. Honesty when I truly care for someone I will do just about anything they ask, but don’t take advantage of this. Once you take advantage of this part of me, all respect will be lost for you.

I’m hard to love.

Sometimes I want to be cuddle and get attention, and sometimes I don’t want you to talk to me for a couple hours. Sometimes I want you to take me out for a nice meal, but sometimes I want a home cooked meal. Every day is different for me, sometimes I change my mind every hour. My mood swings are terrible on certain days, and on those days you should probably just ignore me. I’m not easy to love, so you’ll either be willing to find a way to love me, or you’ll walk out like so many others have.

I’m scared.

I’m scared to love someone again. I’ve been hurt, heartbroken, and beat to the ground in my past relationships. I want to believe you are different, I want to hope things will truly work out, but every relationship has always ended up the same way. I’m scared to trust someone, put my whole heart into them, just to be left and heartbroken again. I sick and tired of putting my whole body and soul into someone for them to just leave when it is convenient for them. If you want to love me, understand it won’t be easy for me to love you back.

When “I’m done.”

When I say “I’m done” I honestly don’t mean that I’m done. When I say that it means I need and want you to fight for me, show me why you want to be with me. I need you to prove that I’m worth it and there’s no one else but me. If I was truly done, I would just walk away, and not come back. So if I ever tell you, “I’m done,” tell me all the reasons why I’m truly not done.

For the boy who will love me next, the work is cut out for you, you just have to be willing to do it. I’m not like other girls, I am my own person, and I will need to be treated as such. For the boy that will love me next, don’t bother with me unless you really want to be with me. I don’t have time to waste on you if you aren’t going to try and make something out of us. To the boy who will love me next, the last thing I would like to say is good luck, I have faith in you.

Cover Image Credit: Danielle Balint

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15 Thing Only Early 2000's Kids Will Understand

"Get connected for free, with education connection"

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This is it early 2000's babies, a compilation finally made for you. This list is loaded with things that will make you swoon with nostalgia.

1. Not being accepted by the late 90's kids.

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Contrary to what one may think, late 90's and early 00's kids had the same childhood, but whenever a 00's kid says they remember something on an "only 90's kids will understand" post they are ridiculed.

2. Fortune tellers.

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Every day in elementary school you would whip one of these bad boys out of your desk, and proceed to tell all of your classmates what lifestyle they were going to live and who they were going to marry.

3.Bunnicula

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You could never read this book past 8 o'clock at night out of fear that your beloved pet rabbit would come after you.

4. Silly bands.

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You vividly remember begging your parents to buy you $10 worth of cheap rubber bands that vaguely resembles the shape of an everyday object.

5. Parachutes.

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The joy and excitement that washed over you whenever you saw the gym teacher pull out the huge rainbow parachute. The adrenaline that pumped through your veins whenever your gym teacher tells you the pull the chute under you and sit to make a huge "fort".

6. Putty Erasers

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You always bought one whenever there was a school store.

7. iPod shuffle.

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The smallest, least technological iPpd apple has made, made you the coolest kid at the bus stop.

8. "Education Connection"

You knew EVERY wood to the "Education Connection" commercials. Every. Single.Word.

9. " The Naked Brothers Band"

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The "Naked Brothers Band" had a short run on Nickelodeon and wrote some absolute bangers including, "Crazy Car' and "I Don't Wanna Go To School"

10. Dance Dance Revolution

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This one video game caused so many sibling, friend, and parent rivalries. This is also where you learned all of your super sick dance moves.

11. Tamagotchi

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Going to school with fear of your Tamagotchi dying while you were away was your biggest worry.

12. Gym Scooters

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You, or somebody you know most likely broke or jammed their finger on one of these bad boys, but it was worth it.

13. Scholastic book fairs

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Begging your parents for money to buy a new book, and then actually spending it on pens, pencils, erasers, and posters.

14.Go-Gurt

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Who knew that putting yogurt in a plastic tube made it taste so much better?

15. Slap Bracelets

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Your school probably banned these for being "too dangerous".

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