The Good Die Young.

I've always said that every single year, someone from the graduating class either dies during the school year, or after graduation. It's no different for the Class of 2007.

After I noticed this pattern, and pointed it out to my friends, we would speculate as to who it would be. Never in a thousand years did we picture who it was that died from our graduating class.

Chris Kidd.

He was a good kid. Respectful, kind, generous, would give you the shirt right off of his back. But first and foremost-he was my first real guy friend. His mom use to babysit me, and when we were two or three, we had baths given together, I don't remember much, but I know that his mom had pictures of us in the tub, we wore bathing suits-of course, but it was a memory that's so vague. I would always ride my bike down to his house and run up the stairs leading to the front door, and we'd chillax on the bench that sat at the edge of the porch. And talk about Ninja Turtles and Garth Brooks.

I don't remember when we quit hanging out...but I remember that I guess it was when I moved in the sixth grade. We had spray painted the door to the tree house where we had played spies and ninjas. We were always the good guys that saved the day-usually to a group of people that would be hidden in the sandbox.

I remember the time he put vanilla pudding in my hair-I got him back by dumping the cheese dip in his. There were good times. That's all I remember.

That's all I'm going to remember. We never talked in High School, but he was dating my friend, Meg. She's so torn up she couldn't go to school today.

RIP, Christopher Allen Kidd. My first friend.

Just like the branches they cut that we use to climb to get up the Fir tree, your life ended too soon.

WWJD-What would Jesus....drive?

I was clearly looking up scriptures when I found What Would Jesus Drive? And I laughed. You might find it funny as well.

Sometimes I draw just to draw.

Reference Photo* I added my shoulders because I didn't feel like drawing the floating head and the shoulders came from another photo of me.

The end result...so, occasionally I just draw my outline like that and I don't bother with the details such as the shadow and such, I just like drawing the "Cartoon" versions.

And this is the second one...I attempted to color it, but I just don't have the right amount of colored pencils...or colors rather, I believe I have a lot of colored pencils...

This Will Take Your Breath Away.

This is something that my cousin posted on Myspace and I began to love it dearly. So, here's what it said...

------------------





This will take your breath away.

The parodox of our time in history is that we have taller buildings but shorter tempers, wider freeways but narrower viewpoints. We spend more, but have less, we buy more, but enjoy less. We have bigger houses and smaller families, more conveniences, but less time. We have more degrees but less sense, more knowledge, but less judgement, more experts, yet more problems, more medicine, but less wellness.


We drink too much, smoke too much, spend too recklessly, laugh too little, drive too fast, get too angry, stay up too late, get up too tired, read too little, watch TV too much, and pray too seldom. We have multiplied our possessions, but reduced our values. We talk too much, love too seldom, and hate too often.

We've learned to make a living, but not a life. We've added years to life not life to years. We've been all the way to the moon and back, but we have trouble crossing the street to meet a new neighbor. We've conquered outer space but not inner space. We've done larger things, but not better things.

We've cleaned up the air, but polluted the soul. We've conquered the atom, but not our prejudice. We write more, but learn less. We plan more, but accomplish less. We've learned to rush, but not to wait. We build more computers to hold more information, to produce more copies than ever, but we communicate less and less.These are the times of fast foods and slow digestion, big men and small character, steep profits and shallow relationships. These are the days of two incomes but more divorce, fancier houses, but broken homes. These are the days of quick trips, disposable diapers, throwaway mortality, one night stands, overweight bodies, and pills that do everything from cheer, to quiet, to kill. It is a time when there is much in the showroom window and nothing in the stockroom. A time when technology can bring this letter to you, and a time when you can chooses either to share this insight, or to just hit delete.

Remember, spend some time with your loved ones, because they are not going to be around forever. Remember, say a kind word to someone who looks up to you in awe, because that little person soon will grow up and leave your side.

Remember, to give a warm hug to the one next to you, because that is the only treasure you can give with your heart and it doesn't cost a cent.

Remember, to say "I love you" to your partner and your loved ones, but most of all mean it. A kiss and an embrace will mend hurt when it comes from deep inside of you.

Remember to hold hands and cherish the moment for someday that person will not be there again.Give time to love, give time to speak, and give time to share the precious thoughts in your mind.

AND ALWAYS REMEMBER:

Life is not measured by the number of breaths we take, but by the moments that take our breath away.

----
The picture is mine, but that was the most amazing and profound thing I have yet to read on the Myspace bulletin board. I hope you find it as beautiful and profound as I have.

Thanksgiving.

I am thankful for today. It was excellent.
Lucian & Shaylee were so adorable playing in the floor together.
Charity's baby-absolutely precious. I loved her when I saw her.
THe family-still as rambunctous as always.

But they thought it was weird that I loved eating the Turkey Skin...am I weird? Or do other people do it too?

Don't ya think he's cute?

My son had his Holiday Portraits. I love these the most.

Well, which one do you like?

Storm-Lifehouse

This song just pulls at my heart. There are so many different emotions in it. I'm overwhelmed by it. It speaks to me on so many different levels.

The Movies I can't wait to see.

Would you like to go see them too?

"...where did I go wrong, I lost a friend..."

Ha. My friend and I were talking yesterday (she came over and helped me clean my room and we hung out and laughed) about how when we were in sixth and seventh grade, we talked about our senior year of high school, and the things we would do. The pranks we would pull, and we talked as though we would still be friends in High School.

Yet, as messed up as it may seem, we weren't friends in High School. The opposite, we were probably each other's nemesis. Ha. Senior year was just from August-December for me, and I wasn't in Marching Band anymore, so we were on different paths. Not to mention the fact we couldn't stand each other when we were in Marching Band. I was a pain in the rear, and she was a royal-well, let's not go there. I was pregnant, and she disapproved.

Somehow, we've patched our friendship after four years of not speaking to each other-and we're talking once more, and we're hanging out more, and we're writing together again-which is the one thing that we have found that keeps us sane. It's amazing to have her back in my life. I'm so grateful that we could throw our differences aside and reconcile.

But yesterday when we were cleaning we had a good laugh. And when we finally finished to the best of our ability, we were laying on the bed, and staring at the ceiling fan when she spoke, it went a little something like this.

HER: "God, what happened to our senior year?"

ME: "It just happened. And we weren't even paying attention."

HER: "You remember all the crap we said we would do...what ever happened to that?"

ME: "We just found different social groups-and we lead different lives-lives which took crazy and unusual twists."

HER: *Laughs lightly* "Yeah. I know. You were just too busy finally fitting in, and I was busy trying to fit in."

ME: "You know, you didn't have to change who you were to fit in, I didn't."

HER: *Sighs* "I guess you're right. But my god, can you believe it, our Senior year feels like it didn't even happen, and one minute you were there-I heard you were pregnant, I denied it because it was you-and let's face it, no one saw it coming-"

ME: "I didn't even see it coming."

HER: "-then by the time I found the words to apologize for being such a bitch to you, it was like you were gone-"

ME: "I graduated in December."

HER: "That's what I was told when I asked Heather."

ME: "Then before we knew it, we were at graduation, and we were different people-right?" I paused. "But doesn't it feel nice to know that here we are-you're a freshman in college and I'm a stay-at-home mom looking for a job and we're talking again? Our lives came back full circle-and as long as we don't let anyone else come between our friendship and writing we're good. We don't need a senior year-we've got the rest of our lives to make it up-four years don't make a friendship or break one, it was just our time to grow up and grow apart and we grew back together."

HER: "Yeah. I guess you're right."

And that was how it went. I've always been told if you want to make God Laugh, tell him your plans. I've found this to be true-I had my whole life planned out and now I'm not sure if I'm coming or going half the time, and I like the spontaneity. I'm not suppose to live according to an itinerary.

But we're back to where we were-different, but we're still the same. Just a little wiser than we were in sixth and seventh grade. I leave you with a picture of us at Graduation.

Heads Carolina, Tails California

One of my aquaintances just recently went to North Carolina and this is a picture she took. I stole it from her myspace.

I miss North Carolina. I've lived their two summers in my life. One between the third and fourth grade and once more between the sixth and seventh grade. I loved it there both times I went. The first time I lived with my aunt and her ex-husband (was her husband at the time) on Fort Bragg in Fayetteville, NC. We lived in Chastain (I think that's right) Addition. Right on the first road when you turned in. It was a brick house with three bedrooms and a huge tree in the back yard. Being on the Army base every single morning I'd wake up to Artillery four miles away shooting off at seven thirty every morning. The neighbors had a tree in their yard and their dad (like my ex-uncle) was in the 101st Airborne Division so we hooked up a line going from our tree to theirs, and we'd all climb the trees, hook ourselves on, and go down the wire. My cousin, Amber, and I would put on Rollerblades and go all through the addition and in the back of it there was a little wooded area that all of us kids in the addition built a fort. Well, the girls built a fort.

But we went to Carolina Beach that summer. It was the first time I ever touched the ocean and I feel like I left my heart by the ocean. I loved it. Everything about it. I was sad when we left, but I collected a bunch of shells which I have in a shoebox in the other house.

The second time I lived with my Aunt, she had gotten out of the Army, and she had gotten a divorce (it's a long story, but turns out her ex was gay) :S. She lived on Canady Pond Road, just outside of Hope Mills. Her boyfriend's father owned two Rodeos in the state. One in Raleigh and Hope Mills. Or, what we called, Shady Acres. I loved that summer because it was full of Rodeos, Trailrides, and meeting cowboys from the PBA. (Dan Dailey the Bronc rider ate dinner with us). We went to Tim's parent's house and they took us out to Lonestar Steakhouse just outside of Raleigh.

North Carolina is a beautiful state. And I think given the chance, I'd probably move there. Just because I LOVED IT! It's amazing.

I just wanted to share that because it's all the things I thought of when I saw the picture on her myspace.

North Carolina, First In Flight-Always in my heart.

Dribbles pt. 2

I misspelled 'intact' on a post somewhere. And no one is letting me live it down.

Lucian has a hoarse throat. (I believe that's right-I mean, he doesn't have a horse in his throat.) But he's got this whimpy fussy cry now. It's hard to hear him. I hope he gets it out soon.

I haven't been doing too much lately. Shane has his nights and days messed up. So, I sleep alone at the moment. I hope he gets them right soon. I don't know if I can deal with it.

I'm hungry. So, I have to get off of here and eat. :)

Sorry it's short. But this is my life.

Dribbles.

Shane just woke up.

Lucian is laughing and carrying on. He's getting so big. But he's such a gorgeous baby.

I'm kinda out of it at the moment.

I learned something new just moments ago, and I'm not sure how to feel.

Jane took me out to lunch today-it was enjoyable. I just wish I could've left Lucian at home. (That's so horrible to say).

I wish I would've saved my Creative Writing papers and notes. It would be easier to write my story. (I'm going to start with a short story and stretch it into a novel.)

I have to go now. I love you.

Evil Fluffball.

This puppy is too cute!

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More of that cute puppy

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From My Girls Day Out.

Above: Mel, Lindsey, Tani & I at the Movies...
Sasha & Mortania...I mean, Lindsey & I at Charlotte Russe. Ha. We use to write stories together-a joint authorship really.

We thought this was fun. There are four people's different fingers in this picture...mine is the second from the left.

They teased me because that skirt I could've worn with those pants...

Me. :)

We petrified Tani, believe it or not, this was a planned photo...

The three of us chillaxin. We kept trying to get Mel in this pic, but she wouldn't...so we got this.

Tani.

They like straws...I had mine in my hands.

Mel. She loves Playboy merchandise. Haha. But she loved that hat most of all.

In the car, on the way to the Mall.

YOU'RE THE MURDERER OF LOVE!!!

Haha. The line of my post is from "Dan: In Real Life" which was a funny movie, but it wasn't as good as we had hoped it would be.

I spent today hanging out with an old friend of mine from Junior High. She brought her roommate up from college and wanted her to meet her friends from up here. So, Lindsey (the friend), Melody (The roommate), Me, and Tani (an old Marching Band friend) all hung out. Turns out we're all pretty fun to hang out with. We went to the mall, out to eat and then to a movie...while driving around and chit-chatting.

But while we were eating we went to China House to eat...they have unlimited Crab legs after four pm, and I had never had crab legs, but now I'm addicted. But while we were waiting on the legs to get done (we had like four plates a piece), I went and grabbed a plate of hot butter and cold shrimp. But when I sat down and began peeling off the shell of the shrimp, a smile crossed my face because I was reminded of something that a certain Mamacita told us when we were in the eighth grade.

I laughed when I asked Lindsey if she remembered-and she began laughing too. Then we both agreed that we're too lazy to take it out. You know the black/brown line down the back of the shrimp? What do you think it is? Haha. If you were thinking it is the digestive tract, you're correct. Haha. I remember our faces on the day that Mamacita was just telling us random bits of information-I believe it was during her infamous PB&J experiment...that we got to talking about other foods and how if you brought up a certain $100 steak to the history teacher you didn't have to do any work. She laughed and then informed us that the shrimp with the lines down the back-was the digestive tract.

A few of us quit eating shrimp after that...but some of us just went right on ahead and continued eating it.

I found the company of the three girls fun, and I hope we can all go out again sometime.

But I'm home now, after stopping by SNS and putting my application in. At least it's worth a shot. I want to have money of my own to spend, so I can get a car of my own, buy my son things he deserves, and save for college...I'm finally coming to terms with growing up. I only hope that I get hired.

TAG :)

I found this on Denise's blog. It looked fun. :) So I'm gonna do it.

Here are the Rules:

1. Link to your tagger and post these rules on your blog.

2. Share 5 facts about yourself on your blog, some random, some weird.

Five random, weird things about me...

1. I watch Hannah Montana because I think it's funny, but I feel like a dork because it's on Disney Channel.

2. I've never worked a day in my life. I've applied everywhere but no one has ever hired me.

3. I've always wanted a camera so I can take photos of everything that I think is beautiful and pure in the world. Seriously, beautiful photos.

4. I'm allergic to Peanuts so I eat Sunbutter (Sunflower seeds turned into a Peanut butter type ordeal) and I LOVE IT! You should try it.

5. I'm not ready to admit this one yet. No, not yet.

Her last breath was spent with a small laugh, she had succeeded.

The novel I am writing includes suicide. I'm going to say that to begin with. It contains things that might just get me put on the list of banned books. I only hope my grammar and the plot are decent enough to live up to that list of wonderful authors when I get slapped there. That is, if anyone remotely reads the novel which will probably take me years to write.

But in writing a novel, fiction or nonfiction, there's always a bit of research involved. My character, the one the story is about, commits suicide and it's her friend telling her story to you, the readers. She's telling me the story as I write it. Yet, there's a note that she leaves behind. That's where my research is coming in at. I am researching suicide notes and what kind of people write them (surprisingly only 10%-25% of suicides write notes, which is less than I originally thought) what those individuals usually say, and how they finish the letter.

But there's something about my character, though that I want to make the note beautiful. I wish for it to be her beautiful goodbye her love note to the world. She's a complex character. With a troubled past and a mask that she hides behind for everyone but her best friend, the narrator of the story. I want the note to be something so eloquent and so amazingly perfect that it even moves me to tears.

I'm a twisted author, you need not tell me. I already know.

I don't think there have been any beautiful suicide notes ever written in all my research. So, I've made it my duty to write the most beautiful sucide note anyone has ever read. Even if it does belong to a fictional character.

I think I'll just go about writing the story and then come back and finish her note last-even though it will be among one of the first things people will read in the book.

I was bored-yet again.

Make video montages at www.OneTrueMedia.com

So sick...bleh...

Today has been a pain for me. Literally.

I think I caught whatever my son had-only it's hit me twice as hard as him. For some funny reason, my immune system is crap and when I get sick I get sick sick. When my fever reached 102 degrees, I tend to have seizures. And the doctors can't explain it. They've ran tests and hooked me up to electrodes to try to figure it out, and I don't have a tendency to have seizures when I'm not sick, they couldn't even figure it out.

I'm pretty sure my temperature today was at least 101.5-but idk because I don't have a thermometer. Pity really. Because I felt as though I was going to have a seizure. Shane doesn't seem to understand the whole "I'm sick and running fever" concept with me is ten times worse than him. For some funny reason, he was like "Don't roll your eyes at me!" And I responded a bit snippy by telling him I can't control it when I've got a fever. And he was telling me to take medication-that's another funny thing-when my fever is super high I can't walk because I pass out.

But I've thrown up six times today-greeting the porcelin god. I'm going to clean the toilets tomorrow-they're disgusting. I wanted to throw up in the sink it was that bad.

Then comes the other side of being ill. The "bathroom" part of it. I feel dehydrated now. Although I'm not running fever anymore, I'm still dizzy and I hurt all over.

The In-laws just went to my FIL's parent's house because it's his mom's birthday. I didn't want to go and get everyone else sick, especially Shane's cousin who is suppose to go in tomorrow or Friday and have her labor induced-the third baby in the family this year.

I guess the Presidential Election is coming up-Still have no idea who I'm going to vote for. I'm split between a Democratic candidate (not Hilary) and Mike Huckabee. But I'm not sure who I'll vote for. I've been looking at all the candidate's platforms and I think they're all pretty similar now. It would be funny to have a Republican president with the Congress and House of Representatives being mostly Democratic. Haha. Things wouldn't happen in the country.

The best Democratic President was Kennedy. I wasn't alive, but I've read on him and I'd have to say he was the best.

I'm watching VH1 and it's a feature on the top 100 songs of the 80s. I think I love 80s music. Especially B-52's Love Shack. And the Eurythmics-I love them.

This was probably the most random post so far. Forgive me for volunteering too much information.

That's the beat of a heart.

So. last night I experienced what it's like to be a mother with a sick, I mean SICK, throwing up baby. It was so stressful. He was throwing up and I was feeling completely helpless because there was nothing I could do other than clean it up, and hold him close to me, in hopes that he would just get better or go to sleep.

He fell asleep on me and occasionally woke up fussing about it-but all in all, he was a good sport. And I know that when he's sick, all he wants is his mommy and daddy because daddy's voice soothes him and mommy's heartbeat is something familiar.

Now that I'm over that bump, and he's smiling and laughing at the elephant in our living room (the ones they sell at Sam's Club that kids when they're older can sit on and can hold up to 140 pounds) I'm even more amazed at him. Althought just a moment ago he sneezed and coughed, bless his little heart. I hope it's only a 24 hour thing-if so he'll be over it by 8 tonight.

I just wanted to say that-I haven't found anything truly profound for me to blog about yet. Haha. I will in due time.

-Faith

So, I made the submission post for LJ Secret the other day. Although, I must admit. I feel a little better about myself now. I love how we that can never find postcards have the opportunity to make a computer graphic and post it to LJ secret, the livejournal spin-off of Postsecret. I'm addicted. I love a quote that Frank Warren, the creator of PostSecret came up with, he said:

"There are two types of secrets: Those we keep from others and those we hide from ourselves."

I am absolutely in love with that quotation. And when you really think about it-it's true. We do hide things from ourselves. And the only way they really come out is when we freewrite. Like an old graphic I use to have on my TOD journal...

"My secrets I hide inside only seem to slip when I write." Yes, they do. But alas, I must go wake up my husband cause he said HE was going to clean the room cause he's tired of the clutter...(I try to keep it clean...)

Love, Faith.

For Bonnie-

Bonnie, I was searching youtube for viola solos, and I wanted to see how well other people played Prelude from Bach's six suites when I came across the version of Yo Yo Ma playing the cello. I love this song and did it in the seventh grade as a solo piece and received a blue medal for it. Have you played it?

I found my poetry book....

I found my poetry book. Which in all reality, is a composition notebook with a bunch of poems and prose that I write. It's the most recent one, so it's got stuff from my senior year. I am going to share some with you. Okay, let me start with the inside of my cover. I put the following quotation that I wrote when I was in the eight grade..

"It's all about the beauty and captivation you hold inside of your heart which inspires the best ideas to become a very real reality...it's up to you."

Now, inside of it, I wrote about growing up, and this is what I had to say:

You know, sometimes when you think about it, growing up really sucks. Your whole childhood is spentduring the sticky-hot days of summer wishing you were older. Wishing for the freedoms you believe you'll inherit when you reach a certain age. Yet, somehow when you get older, you realize you wish to be younger because you didn't have to worry about gas money, jobs, meeting the graduation requirements, making your boss happy, etc...you just want to go back. But you can't. The only way to go in life is forward. You being to attach the phrase "last ever" to certain events. Such as your last ever ride to practice with your friend who is graduating, the last ever lunch when you sit with the seniors, the last ever concert...The last time you walk out of the High School. The last time you register for classes.
Graduation becomes the deal when you register for your senior year, you try to get classes with your friends, make the memories you've missed out on in all the fuss about the education. You aren't an 8th grader and you probably won't see these people ever again after Graduation. Then school will start again next year and you expect to see the cocky seniors-but you realize when the teacher asks how many seniors are in the class that you're one of them. Way leads on way and you discover that you graduate, go off to college, start families, get jobs, life goes forward. You become a human being.
Until one day it hits you-you're older. You're growing up exactly like you use to wish--
...only, it isn't what you thought, is it?

I wrote that my Junior year...The next one is something I wrote while sitting in the field at church one day and everyone was asking me where my friend was--

SHE

Sitting under the lonely tree,

I stare up at the sky-

just watching in peace as the clouds pass by.

Many thoughts grace my mind,

such as "how is she? does she remember me?"

I stare in the direction and wonder,

"Does she think about me?"

Someone takes a seat,

beneath the tree beside of me,

quietly she turns to see,

"How exactly is she?"

She has a name,

but everyone knows it's much easier for me,

if everyone refers to her as 'she'

I smile back at them,

eyes sort of puffy,

take a solid breath and reply,

"I don't know, she doesn't talk to me."

They always nod, get up, and walk away.

They know not to ask me twice.

for they know I wish she would just say "hi"

I stare at the sky-

lay back on my arms,

glancing in her direction I mutter,

"She's probably at home."

It wasn't my best work.

Born into diversity,

where skin color & religion

are counted among things people can hate-

amazed with music,

it becomes her escape.

captivated by art,

She decides how to interpret it.

Mixed race

choices of how to save grace

founded on freedom to choose

only to be persecuted

heritage & background

it's all the same

so love each other

we're not different at all

grab onto a different person's hand

before we all fall.

find your own saving grace

before it's too late

take a deep breath in,

it's nothing to do with race, religion or skin,

we all beautiful anyway.

That was just something I wrote after having enough of people being prejudiced against other individuals when we're all really the same.

Trapped in a world

where none can comprehend

listening to no one

taking silent breaths in

given an opportunity

yet taking the long way around

pathetic excuse for a human,

can't keep her feet on the ground.

forced to the limits

can anyone understand?

----FIN----

I found one of the papers I turned in for Speech my senior year just moments ago. It was supposedly an exercise on page 49. I guess I had to find five quotations relative to english and speech. The following are the quotations I found:

"Language shapes the way we think, and determines what we can think about."

-Benjamin Lee Whorf

"Language is the means of getting an idea from my brain into yours without surgery."

-Mark Amidon

"When I get to read great literature, speeches, great drama, or sermons, I feel that the human mind has not achieved anything greater than the ability to share feelings and thoughts through language."

-James Earl Jones

"What is the shortest word in the english language containing the letters: abcdef?

Answer: Feedback. Don't forget feedback is one of the essential elements of good communication."

-Anon.

"Language...has created the word 'lonliness' to express the pain of being alone. And it has cretaed the word 'solitude' to express the glory of being alone."

-Paul Tillich.

All were true, which is why I turned them all in, and received a 15/15.

My favorite scenes & music

Reflections on a friend of mine.

Wow. I just found an OLD blog of mine onilne that I had only put one entry into . But the entry was talking about how I gave a christmas present to one of my friends and how she was the one who kept me haning on when I felt my grip slipping. But there was a line toward the very end of the post that was talking about when I wrote her a note and handed it to her on Senior night, I caught her by the arm and had told her that I meant everything I said in the letter. And how she looked at me, and with tears running down her face, gave me a little half smile and responded, "I know, and that's why it hurts so much."

Now, I never quite figured out what she meant by that until just now. Although no one ever wrote me a heartfelt note, book, or whatever else I may have written her-I have come to the realization that sometimes all a person needs to hear is "Thank you, for you have made my life easier-and you've saved me from letting go." I see now why she said what she did in response to it. She had also told me at one point in time that she hadn't ever cried until I wrote her and told her it was okay to cry, and that she's not alone in the world and that I am comfortable just sitting in the silence with her until she feels better.

Is that what we all need in our lives? Someone who we can sit and say nothing to but feel comforted by the mere simple fact that they're there? Is that what we need? Companionship that knows no words? I know it's been a long time since I last hung out with her and actually just sat and talked. True, we've spoken on Myspace and talked on the phone for maybe thirty minutes or so-but it's not the same...

Maybe we just needed each other for a year. Just long enough to know each other to the point of silence and be comforted by the fact that there's another person out there who feels the same way about everything.

I feel like I'm missing something. Maybe that's why it hurts so much. She meant all the words she told me too.

But when I need to hear her voice to feel she's sitting right there-I tune into the radio.