What She Doesn't Know

I was going to write out this elaborate post on my Partner in Crime and who she was/is. But then I decided that that was pretty cliche and a little too cheesy for my liking. So instead I'm writing this. A bunch of random words that don't exactly make any sense. But then again, if I were to start writing how we truly act around each other, it wouldn't make any sense to anyone else either. So, which do I pick? Something that makes sense to one person and no one else? Or something that makes sense to no one?

So where do I begin with this little journey that makes no sense to anyone? How about I just keep writing words that really don't mean anything? Like once I ate a squirrel and then it ran and jumped up my friend's nose. She had to sneeze as hard as she could but nothing would come up the stairwell in the far back corner.

See I can type nonsense too! Sigh, moving on. I'll try to be serious now.

Honestly, without Alana in my life. I seriously doubt that I'd be here. It wasn't just that she was around and listened when I had life problems. Or daddy problems. Or Mom problems. Or God problems. Or brother problems...I think you get the point. No it wasn't just that she was around to listen, it was that she honestly cared and cared so much that she'd worry herself over me. Over whether or not I was okay. She truly cared, even when the rest of the world was either oblivious to my suicidal behaviors and ever quickening depression or they had long ago given up, she was still around. Still worrying herself sick, still caring, still desperately trying to reason with me. She was patient. The very thing I needed at the moment, and even some moments still. She knew the truth about me, or at least more than anyone else knew. She knew the truth behind my scars and how I had gotten them. She knew how I felt about God, family, myself, and almost anything else. I told her more than anyone. And at times, I think she knew me better than I did. She was able to see past all the crap, all the pain. She was able to look past it all and see the light at the end of the tunnel. Even when I had already given up on that a long time ago. This whole blog, yeah. The only reason it hasn't been taken down because the blogger died, is because that this chickadee saved my life. Yeppers. She probably wouldn't claim as much, or take the credit for that. But in all honesty, she did.

People, listen for a minute. A little less than a year ago, I was suicidal. I was depressed. Alone. Angry. Bitter. Sad. Hurt. Abandoned. I wanted nothing to do with life or anyone in it. I wanted either a new, fresh, start or to simply end it all in one quick painless (on my part) action. I didn't think anyone cared, or would care. I thought that if I died no one would even notice. I felt invisible and alone. I felt as if the world was passing me by and no one could see me through the stained glass. That's why I started cutting. Even if my method of cutting was very unconventional. (I mean a mechanical pencil, really?) When I got suicidal and turned my back on God she was the one who tried desperately to make me see the light. She was the one who prayed (probably daily) on my behalf and (probably) pleaded with God to bring me back. I owe her everything. Yet, I don't know if she believes that. Or if anyone else knows. My family, they owe her everything. Without her, they wouldn't have me. It's weird to think about, but it's the truth. It honestly is.

Now I could go on forever talking about Alana and all she's done for me, all the things we've been through. How God put us in each other's lives at just the right moment. How he prepared us for bigger things and strengthened our friendship before we even lived nearly 1000 miles apart. God is good, if we would simply give him the chance to show us.

What she doesn't know...is that I owe my life to her. And for that I will forever be grateful to her. And that no matter what life throws our way, that we will be strong enough to conquer it. And that nothing the devil throws at us will ever tear us down, nor apart. She's my sister, and I simply wouldn't be the same without her. Heck, I wouldn't be me without her.