i was that kid. i was that kid that was forgotten about. the one that they said they’d call but got caught up and never called. i was that kid that people thought, “man, what is he doing here?” when i walked up. or maybe they thought, “who told him?” either way, i was that kid. i was that kid that people went out of their way to not talk about something around. you know, the one where when i walked up, people started talking about something different. or they started mentioning “that thing” but wouldn’t ever said what “that thing” was. it was just an inside joke or something like that. yeah, i was that kid. and i knew it. the more i look back at it, i really think i would’ve rather had them just say, “hey, we’re doing this but we don’t want you to come” instead…

today i bought a girl out of sexual slavery for the first time. didn’t expect that to be the first line did you? i have never really had a heart for missions. whenever people would come and talk about missions i would just tune them out. “we’ve got enough problems here at home. why should i focus on people in indosulibinisia” i didn’t get the point. i simply didn’t have a heart for missions. if you’ve been reading me for a while, you know that back around december or january i started asking god to change my heart so that i could be ready to do whatever it was that he wanted me to do when the time came. obviously the quick answer to that was that he wanted me to be in ministry and i finally warmed up to the idea of it. my heart changed towards the idea…

for the first time ever, i wrote an entire post on here and just deleted it. actually, i didn’t even go through the process of hitting “delete” to get rid of it. i just highlighted it and started type that line right up there. i spent ten minutes trying to find the lyrics to a song i was going to reference and just deleted it. what i wrote just didn’t feel right. it was decent, and i think the six people who read this may have even gotten something out of it, but it didn’t feel right. it felt like i was trying to open up but still trying to cover up things at the same time. it didn’t feel authentic. i want to be authentic. there may only be six people reading this thing but hey, you guys are reading it for a reason. for a while now, even…

i think two guys were making fun of me earlier tonight. right in front of me. they denied it, but i still got the feeling they were. and i let it bother me. i don’t know why i let it bother me, but i did. i’ve never had a problem with these two guys. we’ve always been friendly, joked with each other at times, and all of that. we’d never be mistaken for friends, but we could easily be described as acquaintances. the entire way home i was trying to figure out what they were saying before they walked by me laughing. i went through a ton of things in my head. was i dressed weird? did i have something on my face? did someone tell them something about me? did they not like me? and that’s when i stopped. why do i care if these guys like me? why…

i made a girl cry last night. and it was awesome. my twitter/facebook status before i went to bed last night was “the little things are what matter most. everyone can do the normal things, but it’s the small stuff that people really remember.” that’s something people that know me have heard me say over and over and it’s sort of the way i live my life. earlier i saw a friend of mine that i hadn’t seen since may. i hadn’t talked to her much this summer either. the first thing i did when i saw her was give her a hug but i was busy so i didn’t get to talk to her much. as the night went on i talked to her a little more. we were in a big group and a lot of us hadn’t seen each other in a while so we were all…

out of all of the thoughts and emotions that i go through, i think there’s one that sticks out more than any other when i think about what i hate the most. they are the times when i can’t figure out my thoughts and emotions or why i’m thinking about them. yes, i know that last paragraph was insanely confusing. welcome to my head. yesterday i got off of work at around 4:30. i thought cool, i may actually be able to do something tonight. yeah, that didn’t happen. from 4:30 until about 12:30 when i went to bed, i had one conversation with another human being and that was with my dad on how to fix my water heater. other than that, i had no contact with anyone else. wait, take that back, there was a really short old guy that knocked on the door to see if i…

that was part of a conversation i had earlier with someone. it was that moment that reminded me what today was. strangely enough, i hadn’t thought of it at all the entire day.

today’s the day of the official break up that inspired this whole thing.

it’s the day that ruined my life.

it’s the day that sent me into a huge downward spiral of a depression.

it’s the day that changed my life forever.

it’s the day that brought on the absolute best year of my life.

today has been a good day. it started off with an awesome egg and cheese sandwich then headed down to smith mountain lake for some boat action, followed by a just as good barbecue sandwich, followed by some good hang out in the lake time. it was fun.

then tonight after dinner we headed over to the new snowflex center. one of my friends just wanted to be able to say he had wakeboarded and snowboarded in the same day so a couple of us headed over there to watch him and everyone else fall down for two hours. it was fun.

it’s been a week since the last time i’ve written anything on here. i didn’t mean for that to happen. really, i didn’t. i’ve had the urge to write but every time i think about it i don’t have anything to write about or just don’t feel it at that moment. i kept putting it off and putting it off and, well, now we’re here.

in the past year, i’ve written two other entries like this one. the first one i wrote back in august (being grown up isn’t half as fun as growing up) and another one back in january (we’ll start a revolution can’t you see it now?). they were both written the day of or the day before a new “chapter” of my life started. this one is written in the same context.