Oh, my heart could just burst

I found this on a friends Xanga [what, people still use those?]:

If she loves you now, what else matters? She's not perfect. You aren't either, and the two of you will never be perfect. But if she can make you last at least once, causes you to think twice, and admits to being human and making mistakes, hold on to her and give her the most you can. She isn't going to quote poetry, she's not thinking about you every moment, but she will give you a part of her that she knows you could break. Don't hurt her, don't change her, don't expect more than she can give. Don't analyze. Smile when she makes you happy, yell when she makes you mad, and miss her when she's not there. Love hard when there is love to be had.

I really like this whole thing. I relate to it. Of course I do.
Somedays I'm so tortured by emotion. All of it can just break out of my heart and flood my entire body, giving me irrational thoughts, actions, etc. I've begun to focus myself and my energies on being happy. Surprisingly, it's worked insofar. Today I'm thinking and feeling a lot. But I'm doing so in a very positive way. Being positive is the key to happiness. Being grateful for bad things, just because they could have been worse. One day at a time; one step at a time.

All these positive vibes and I'm PMSing. Who would've thought? =P

She talks to angels...

Death has touched my life many times.

I feel as though I was pretty much born into it. My father died before I was 2. In that same year, my uncle died, as well. I never knew either of them personally, but knew them in their absence. In my mother's struggle, my grandmother's tears. On father's day.
I had a grandfather. Who was one of the most incredible people I've ever met. A heart of gold and giving hands, all that cliche stuff. I lost him when I was in the third grade. It was my first real experience with death.

I used to hide in the closet sometimes after recess in 4th grade. Just to hide and cry. Obviously, I didn't deal well with it.

And since people have come and gone in my life. I find it impossible to not cry at a funeral. No matter how well I knew them. Yes, it's a part of life, but it's a sad thing.

And at the same time, I've always felt some weird connection. With life and death. And just understanding it. Sure, sometimes I'm angry at it. Think it's not fair. But never have I not understood it. Never have I questioned why it's there. I just don't have to like it...