Things have been difficult lately. I've cried, thrown fits, and sent school papers flying across the room landing in a mess of confetti on the floor. I've wanted to give up. I've pondered quitting school and reeeeally becoming that pennyless writer. I've convinced myself on multiple occasions that I'd rather be broke and doing what I love rather than being miserable behind a desk. Then, of course, I come to my senses and things don't quite seem so bad. I was browsing through the baby aisles at Target the other day looking for baby shower gifts for a friend of mine, and I took in for the first time how expensive children are. My goodness.... I want to be a mom more than anything someday, and I know that I have to stay in school in order to have the funds to take care of a family. I want my beautiful house that I've dreamt of since I was six, and I don't want to struggle for anything anymore. I suppose I just need a little incentive to keep me motivated.

A few weeks ago I was so frustrated with myself, I cried until my throat was raw. I climbed into the shower and curled up into a ball on the bathtub floor. My head was rested on my knees, and I felt so hopeless. I pondered whether or not all of this was even worth it. I can't do 3/4 of the math that I'm assigned, and to be honest, I don't care that George Washington lost every battle before he finally became a hero. I should, but I don't. My life is strung together with words. I like to twist and play with them. I like to make them into lines of gibberish that make no sense, and I love to use them as weapons and ways to get people, and myself, to think once in awhile. It's quite possible that no one cares what I have to say....but I do. I've been feeding off of negativity for a long time now. If you let people get to you whenever they don't like something that you do, there will be nothing left of you. You can't be a vulnerable person in this world, and it's taken me years to figure that out. I'm one of the most sensitive people I know, and that's my downfall half of the time. I've always cared too much about the thoughts of others. Now I'm at this point where I use those hurtful words and experiences to turn me into a stronger individual.

I'm not looking for praise, sympathy, or apologies. I'm simply looking for strength within myself. I'm done worrying about whether I'm good enough to get through college, or whether I'll ever be a well-known writer. I just want to be happy. I'm tired of letting the ridiculous whispers from the present and the past dig their way under my skin. I'm not going to let anyone's remarks feed off of my agony. Whatever is meant to happen to me will happen. I just need to allow myself to let it. You can't fight fate. It's just not possible. However, right now I'm content with where I am, and really, that's all that a girl could possibly ask for.

Accident.

One night, a long time ago, I prayed for you. At the time, I didn't even know what or who I was praying to, but nevertheless, I folded my little hands, and squinted my eyes shut. I hoped that once in awhile you thought of me. I asked whoever was listening if I looked just like you or whether we laughed the same. My tiny mind was so full of wonder and curiosity. I was so young, I didn't quite grasp why you left; I just knew that you weren't there, and that I couldn't even remember what your face looked like. I'd heard stories about you. I knew that somewhere you existed, but I just kind of thought that it was in this far away fairy tale land, where unicorns and fairies roamed free. That's where you were. I imagined you in a place where true beauty never had to hide.

Well, eventually, whoever was listening to my thoughts that one night so long ago, decided to show me what I was really missing...

And what is it that I was missing?

Nothing.

We all piled into the car that day. My parents, grandparents, and myself were on our way to find her. Don't get me wrong, I wanted to meet you too, but more than anything I wanted to meet my sibling. After my small, naive self become so excited that I almost burst, your house was in sight. I remember what it looked like. It was white, and it had a big satellite dish in the front. My dad got out of the car, walked to your front door, and a man that I didn't recognize answered the door; your new hubby I soon figured out. I watched my dad move his mouth, listen to the response, nod his head, then make his way back to the car. He informed us that neither you nor my sister were home.

The funniest part about that, is that when we backed out of the drive way, I looked through the curtain of tears that were swelling up in my eyes, and what did I see? My sister. My sister, who wasn't home, waving at me through a smeared glass window.

You've wondered all of these years why we've never been close.; why I've tried my best to erase you from my mind. Well, I suppose that it doesn't help that the first memory I can recall of you is being turned away from the new life that you lived. Not to mention 18 years of birthdays, Christmas', and every other holiday that sailed by without hardly a single phone call, card, or letter from you.

See, you're the one who abandoned me. My one-year-old self didn't high-tail it out of there away from you. Although, if I could even have begun to comprehend at the age what you really were, I probably would have tried my best to do just that.

Luckily for me, however, my life also worked its way out. Now I have two parents rather than just one. Funny, huh?

I've realized, over the years, that we're nothing alike. Am I sad about that? Not really. Not anymore. I would rather be my own person anyday than remind myself that I ever once lived and grew right underneath your beating heart. Afterall, you told the nurses to turn off the sound of my beating heart at the hospital the night that I was born. I guess we weren't as connected as one would think.

To you, I was merely an accident. An accident that a 17 going on 18-year-old girl couldn't handle and didn't want. Well, it's a good thing that sometimes accidents turn into something that you never expected.