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You know... I'm tired of hearing from so many people that they are through with living life, that life sucks, that they are giving up... I know the same words have escaped my lips from time to time but the thing is we need to realize that pain is a blessing. I see that now and I'm glad I didn't see it then. I would not have learned. I watch my dog Chester everyday as his legs slowly give out on him and it gets harder and harder for him to climb the steps to even catch a glimpse of us as we walk past the door to the basement. I cuddle him and talk to him as I watch his eyes. Such pain and sadness. I cannot look without crying. Thinking of it now even brings me to tears... We are growing up and cannot be around him as much as we used to. He tries his hardest to be with us and follow us around, but... he just can't. The worst part is it's not because he is old. He isn't. His body is just giving out on him. It's because of his breed. I know he listens when i speak to him and i know he can feel my grief and I know he understands me in everyway. I watch and in his eyes I see tears... Not physical tears that everyone sheds so much, but internal tears... as if his soul is crying and has been... for years. I try so hard to show him that he's loved and that life is ok. I know I can see him on the verge of giving up as we all feel sometimes. There's one difference between humans and animals... Chester still climbs halfway up the steps every day to watch and he still follows and he still plays despite his sadness. He does it for the hope of being with us. He can see past all the pain his legs give him and the loss of being with us all the time. He can see past it all... We teach animals tricks and scold them all because we think they need to learn from us. If anything, I believe we need to learn from them. I remember sitting in my room crying and have to stifle a few to sit and listen, for I could here his paws climbing down the stairs. I was the only one that had a room in the basement and he always would make a special trip to come find me. I would hold him and cry and spill my heart to him. He laid there and put up with me grobbling into his fur and suffocating him with hugs. Only after I passed out from so much crying and a massive headache, did he leave. My first cat, Tinkerbell, was the same. If I was sick or upset in anyway, she was by my side. I can still feel her sometimes... She was killed while offering comfort to my 'dad'... Even the worst of people, animals will try to comfort... He kicked her down a flight of steps... and left her to die... Thanksgiving evening I came home and Tink did not come to sleep with me that night... I woke up in the morning to her crying from down the hall. Even though she was dieing and was paralyzed and was bleeding internally, she found the will to stay alive just to see us once more. People. We bleed, cry, and take all sorts of torture in our short lives. Thing is, most of us don't fight for that last breath. We would rather give it up. Fallen angel I may be to some, but the difference between me and a fallen angel? I won't give up to get my wings back. If I have to die for them fine. But I'll fight for the light and I'll fight anyone who tries to hold me back. I died once. And although I died to live, I still died. I don't want to feel that EVER AGAIN. I used to want to give up, to stop trying, to just... die. I tried so many ways and yet, although I should've, I could not succeed at suicide. Something kept me here through all the pills, ropes, suffocation, and self-mutilation. I was determined but it would not happen. I look back, and just like Chester and Tinkerbell, I wouldn't let myself die. I wanted to see the light, yes. I wanted to feel the warmth of my mom's arms and the safety of a home that was filled with love versus one with hate and the ever looming presence of a father that was merely a sperm-bank to my existence. I couldn't see the light at the end of the tunnel, but subconsciously I knew it was there. So naturally, my subconscious wouldn't allow me to die. I endured and came to be where I am now. For those of you that watch Fullmetal Alchemist, I can vouch whole-heartedly in the Law of Equivalent Exchange. I sacrificed a childhood... but gained my soul. And about Human Transmutation being a taboo of alchemy, well, in this transition, I lost a piece of me that I will never be able to gain back. Something that so many treat like candy and just give it away... It's as though when it was taken... a piece of myself was taken away... How anyone can just toss it to the curb is beyond me... If you remember the one episode where Edward's automail leg is stolen by the little girl that's father lost both his legs in the war, he speaks of how the soldiers that came back without a scratch lost something just as dear but did not have the understanding. I believe that if I hadn't lost what I had, I would've take what I had for granted instead of respected it. I also understand a whole new aspect of life. I try to show it to so many that there's always a cause to fight for, such as that one last breath... I was always taught to share knowledge and help others to grow in return for the growth you gained through others. A gift diminishes if you keep it for yourself. The problem with that though is the fact that no one will listen. Or they listen and then try to tell you that you're wrong and that you have no idea how they feel or that there's no possible way you could understand. The point isn't to understand or figure out who's right and wrong, it's to guide. Showing someone an alternative path is not forcing someone to understand or figure out who’s been through worse. I remember sitting and thinking as metal was ripping into my flesh and the blood was oozing out of the broken skin that ‘this was the way out… I could find peace… I would be happier…’ So many freaking excuses I told to myself. I PROMISED that this was the way out. This was the light at the end of the tunnel. It wasn’t. I wanted to feel warmth, to feel love, to have hope. Well, dieing is not the way to find the light. It only leads to more darkness. When I was little I was always told that ‘Patience is a virtue’. Well, my childish mind didn’t see any truth to this and if I yelled and screamed and fought then sometimes I got what I wanted. So who needed patience when I could just yell and scream through life? Now, after so much waiting, I’m free. The only entrapment left is the one that I put up myself. My death. And with time, even that will fade and I will live and it will be happily. Patience has become a great friend. I know my friends who are struggling now don’t see it and I can’t make them see it. All that I can do is help to guide them when they come to me and let them know that things will work out.