Dear diary, Here I am. In Arizona, with blake. Its so amazing. Absolutely amazing. But one thing, I hope this cough goes away soon. Honestly, I should probably do something about it. But anyway, Blake is doing great. We were just sitting down on the sofa and holding hands yesterday a lot. But anyway, aside from mismatched shoes. Yes mismatched shoes. I looked down at my shoes while I was at the airport, and found that they were mismatched. Ugh. I cannot stand mismatched anything. You know how women is, women have to have their shoes, dresses, outfits, everything matching. Anyway, that’s just me though. Anyway, just thought I might ask or let everyone know. I am in Phoenix for now for the week. Another blog post 9 days before. But anyway, I can’t wait to be in Phoenix. So moore. Maybe a little bit of explanation would do for exploration, excuse me? That’s just me.
I have 9 days till I hit the road. Blake is looking forward to this whole thing. But there’s a problem. I will not be able to post wordpress blog posts about my travel experiences. What I do plan to do, however, is post SoundCloud audio of the trip stuff to my SoundCloud files. It’ll be great. I’ll have to pay for WiFi and stuff at a hotel that doesn’t even have food or water. I gotta post my pics on FB for those to see. Also, the Jason cover photo is history! When Blake and I kiss at the airport, someone will snap a picture. Also, I found a great program for Pandora Radio called PianoBar. It’s amazing!
Also, one word for Aunt Christine: WHAT? You bought WHAT? for Blake? Excuse me? Ask Blake, he’d tell you more.
I’m really a bit nervous about meeting the poor woman for the first time, and I don’t know if she’ll ever do anything to keep Blake and I apart. I’ll say this, to your Aunt Christine, please do not buy what you bought for Blake again. We’re not stupid. Um, … University of Miami, we’re not Animals! Right now, I just wanna chill and listen to Pandora and play with my blog at the moment.
Blake, you better get din din. Laughs.
And when he said he was having nachos that Kathy wants to make, I’ll be like, “Um, gimme those nachos.” Kathy better teach me the art of her cooking. I know I am a jealous lady, but sometimes my cooking is a bit fattening. Who am I, Paula Deen? I don’t think so.
Well, that’s all, folks. Don’t forget to check out go fund me for more details. Emergency Vacation Fund needs some more money.
I was going to write this on the day of your would be twenty-first birthday, but something said I need to do it right now. I was beginning to think I could do a tribute to you on my radio show, but it would have been too much for your dear Blake, your older brother, so I decided against it. I canceled the show anyway because, well, if you found this letter in my blog, you’d freak out. Why? I have to sell a guitar. God, I wish you were alive to see this thing: a beautiful nylon acoustic Classical Yamaha thing with a nice black case and … yes, two golden picks. I’m selling it for $250, but alas, I’m a cursed woman, and can’t sell anything without people saying, “Cut the price.” I’m so mad because I need money and I want to barter my guitar for the bill money and money for a cab in Phoenix. I want to spend the day with Blake. I’m serious. His dad invites me down for Thanksgiving, and then I find myself without food, water, and money to obtain food and water for two of the days out of about seven. Chad, if you were here, I’d tell you this: I’d want to tell you how sorry I was for being as rude as I probably was.
Well, let me say it again: I am deeply sorry for the way I treated you, and I wish i could tell you earlier. As I write this, I cry thinking about what would have happened. I wanted to hear you play me something awesome, maybe you would have shown me what your skills were like on the guitar. Hey, I’d jam with you if I could. But here you are, somewhere where Blake and I can’t see you. Mom misses you a bunch, and she grieves you every day. Your mother screamed when she found you lying dead on the floor. Why did this happen to you? Please, I wish you were something more than just the guy I saw at Blake’s graduation.
I so wish that I had known you better through you, not Blake. I wish I could tell you that I played a bit on the guitar while in college, studied music, and so on. I had big dreams of being a choral director, but my independence took precedence over my dreams. Dreams like mine never seemed to come true. Not till there was Blake.
Blake was all the dreaming I wanted to do. If only you were alive and breathing to see the way I respect and like and think about Blake. I know we have our disagreements, but don’t all relationships have disagreements? Did you see my friend Carrie? She probably knows who you are by now. Carrie Loveridge was a sweet girl I knew back in the days. She went to a high school in Florida, and I never saw her after the age of eight, but I heard how she died. Sadly, her death was expected, and she died of cancer. Chad, I swear, you want Blake to get laid? Well, he doesn’t do that stuff. Please, hon, if you want to be Blake’s guardian angel, do not under any circumstances curse Blake with the regret of losing his virginity before marriage. I don’t want to hear Blake’s weird loss of virginity story over and over again. I won’t be the one to take it before he marries me, I swear.
And for one thing, I will always take care of him, love him, not at all lose sight of our goal. I want to be older than dirt when we are both dead, me and Blake. The last words I want to say are, “Blake, I love you.” Thinking about this may make anyone mad. But I want to carry something out that you didn’t get to. I promise if I have a gifted child, I will credit you with this. I swear on God’s right hand that you will be given some credit for the gifts my son/daughter may have. Blake will carry your line into eternity sometime, someday, somewhere far and away.
Chad, I wanted to be your sister, and I wanted to tell you I was sorry sometime, but why? I always ask why did this happen? Your mother’s grief is mine as much as hers, and I want to give Kathy a hug. If only I could give her a hug. If only if only the woodpecker sighs … sigh. I wouldn’t say it enough.
If I could do one thing for you when I see you in the sky, I would tell you, “You look lovely.” I would tell Blake his face was ruggedly handsome and even and pretty. I would tell you that you were playing beautifully on a golden harp, whatever God decides. Honestly, God has mercy on you, and he will bring you back to us sometime. When it is the end, the Lord will bring you back to us. When the Lord Christ comes back to this world, there won’t be the tears I cry daily for you. For your mother, I cry deeply and bitterly. I would never take advantage of Blake. Please, whisper sweet things to Kathy’s ear, tell her you are her son, always and forever. I weep for you and Blake, wishing you two had a better relationship. I honestly cry as I write this, the more I think about it I cry. Why did you have to leave us like this! Thank God you’re safe in the Blessed Mother’s palace, the Mother and Son in the Holy Family greet you warmly and will always watch your every step. You are the finest thing I’m sure Blake has ever known. I’ve never had a brother who went to Australia, never had a brother who played rock music. My brother, God please bless him, played trumpet. Ugh. My dad taught him. My brother was not learned like you were. For twenty years, you graced this earth with your presence, albeit good or bad things, you still had something there. I’m going to leave you with a couple stories I want to relay to you through this awesome blog I’ve kept. I know I’m altogether angry with myself for not saving you from that deathly wench who was your girlfriend, the deadly bomb that went off in your life altogether taking you with it. Let me tell you about my twenty-first birthday. I ordered wine with dinner, and I got a few presents. My parents and brothers and all went, and I was … yep, carded. I was asked to show an ID, and that’s when the waitress said, “Oh, it’s your twenty-first? Ok, we’ll do a Yee Hah for your birthday.” It was a roadhouse grill thing I went to, and it was fun. I hope I get to do this with Blake again. Here’s another thing I want to say: Luke Skywalker always had something good to say about his father, who by the current episode of Star Wars, is the late and evil Darth Vader. But Luke said, in all his honesty, “I feel the good in you.” He said even more, “I can’t kill my own father.” If you and Blake were in a situation like that, it would be I who would say, “Chad, do not try and mess things up for your brother.” Honestly, Kathy and I feel the good in you. I feel something about you that makes me ask myself, “Why would I ever say anything bad about someone as gifted as you were?” I am like Mr. Skywalker in Star Wars, I feel the good in you. Blake had his doubts, but he was like Princess Leia, the one who said in Episode 5, “Vader wants us all dead.” Well, Blake would have never said that you would want me or him dead, that’s not Blake. But I remember stories he told me, prayers he prayed, things that made him sad. Writing this has enabled me to feel a bit more at peace with myself and my grief. Honestly, I wanted to say I was sorry for whatever I might have said. I wanted to hug you, but I’ll have to wait till something weird happens: I get thrown out of the plane on the way to Phoenix, or some guy stabs me in the back, or I get shot in the face, or if I’m older than dirt and I’m lying in bed with Blake, slowly fading away. I don’t know what else to say. I wish you a very happy 21st birthday there with the angels and your friends who you have missed so dearly. Blake will be at the Spirit Room on Saturday to do something good for you. You would have loved it over there, and Blake says it’s awesome. I want to also say thank you for the life you tried to live, or have lived. I have a prayer I want to ask God to do in my favor:
Dear Lord, bless Blake, and the memory of his brother. Please, dear Lord, bless the mother of the one I love so dearly. Bless Kathy and protect her from feeling awful all the time, give her a better day every day, and when she feels bad, whisper sweet nothings to her like she never heard them before. Whisper sweet things to her like nothing ever happened. Call her name, she’s waiting for something. If that wench goes to the lake of fire, I mean your dear servant Chad’s ill fit girlfriend, I swear I want you to not let Kathy see her burn up like she probably is, according to your sacred word. Blake reads your sacred word. Let him continue to become more devout every day. Lord, I want you to lift Blake up on Saturday and Friday, let him see how much people care for him, let him be with me for all the days I’m down there, and … for my sake, bless his father with a deep understanding of who you are. G-man? Um, that’s a garbage man. But bless Blake’s dear old man with a yearning and a desire to understand Blake’s faith. I don’t want to see Blake upset because his dad doesn’t like his girlfriend. I hate to see Blake upset because of what happened to your servant Chad. Please bless his memory and all his friends who are still stuck here and not able to join him in prayer and song. Give Chad a sweeeter voice than any of the angels I’ve ever heard, and let him join in the chorus of cherubim and seraphim as they sing your praises forever. This may sound weird, but I’ve wanted this forever. I want to hold Blake in his times of grief, and this tragedy brought us even closer. Continue to bring us closer.
To Chad, I write this in your memory, to say I hope that when I see you in the heavens above, you and I will never have a disagreement or a rude word pass between us. I wanted to take care of some unfinished business. That’s what it’s called in ghost land, and I don’t want to be the living impaired person who has too much unfinished business to take care of. But I’m alive, and I still have unfinished business to take care of. Anyway, thank you for your life, albeit a short but the most productive life Blake and I have ever seen!
With love and hugs,
Beth, Blake, and Kathy, your dear brother, sister potential, and mother
Dear Readers and friends,
I’m sorry to report that Blake and I are in a snag to seeing each other. I bought two plane tickets with two airlines, and I will not cancel the tickets fares reservations whatever you call them. They were over $200, and I had no caregiver on Friday, and I refuse to say that the person who bought my groceries had to spend whatever it meant to spend on Groceries. I will not give up on spending time with Blake because of finances, that is a stupid reason to give up. Mark 10:9 may only apply to married people in the churchpeople’s minds, but Blake and I will someday wed and bear children, and I wish people would see how much I would spend to be with him. I’d rather spend money to see him, but his dad was supposed to pay me back. My parents are unsupportive of relationships because of the Jason curse and other silly matters. I will do a Gofundme if I must because I don’t see why anyone would tell me to OWN IT. I”m sorry, but I”m being told I’m obsessed, and Blake doesn’t know where to go. I want money and a job. I must be lifted from these circumstances because it’s simply not good for me mentally. I’m not going to give Blake up because of something my parents want. In fact, I’m not going down to Florida because of my parents’ uncomfortability with relationships and treating me as though I was Katie, the dog I had when I was about 2 to 4 years old. Katie is in Dog heaven now, probably chasing balls and squirrels with Jesus and other dog companions. God bless Katie, she was probably God’s most loyal creature ever.
I’m not even kidding. There’s this funny poem called I will call you Dog My Friend. Jesus didn’t know what the creature was that followed him around and stood at heel with him, and he said, “I will give you my name from front to back, and I’ll call you Dog my friend.” Well, dogs are man’s best friend, and we are made in God’s image and likeness. How can I own anything without going to Phoenix? I can’t pay lyft, and I don’t wanna be in a negative $500 or whatever, and I won’t be able to refund the tickets without penalty of a significant amount more. So forget it, I”m going. IF Mr. Norris, Blake’s dear old man, would please pay me back, I wouldn’t have to go this far. I wouldn’t have to go so far as to do a Go Fund Me crowd funding source to do fundraising to get my bills paid. Some people want abortions with that, but I’m not paying for the murder of my dear unborn child. I’m serious. I would never pay for that. I just want $300 to pay my bills, and if there are working people who could please help me go on this vacation, I don’t care what my parents say. I want funds to do it and I can’t get a job at this point. I’m sick of staying alone at my apartment. I’m sick of just staying with family whose blood children aren’t my lovers. I want my lover, Blake, and I want him … now. He doesn’t really like dogs or cats, and I wish he had a dog. Doesn’t he know I’m as loyal as any puppy to him? Ok, I’m not the dog, but if I were Blake’s guide dog, God I’d be treated better than this. I’d work my daily rounds with Blake for a cup of kibbles and bits for God’s sake. IF only I were a butterfly, I could fly to Phoenix faster than the speed of sound, and I’d drop on Blake’s shoulder and turn back into me. I’d never want to lose him for that moment, in that moment, from this moment on.
I know that my mom and dad would be angry with me, but I must go on a vacation and Blake’s dad was supposed to pay me back, but then I spoke to two friends from my church, who said I can’t give you anything. Sorry, but fine. I’ll find some other way. I must have money, and it must be $2000 per month, I don’t care if that adds on to six figures, I need the money so I can pay the rent for a fair market apartment, pay for my wedding without going into debt, etc. I don’t care!
Please, my dear friends, help me. IF you live in the U.S., I’ll have a Go Fund Me site up soon, and if anyone can give $10 … if I had thirty people give ten dollars, I’d be happiest. I don’t care if only one person gets me a few, but this money will ease the burden of having to pay bills, ease Blake’s dad’s burden, I don’t care. I just want to see Blake again, and it hurts me to hear Kathy scream like this, “Why did you do this to me!” It hurts me to see Blake upset because he can’t go anywhere from here, can’t come to Denver, etc. It hurts me to see myself upset because I never will see Blake if I can’t prove his family wrong. I expect a reward for being so damn loyal, and I wish God would give me the strength to be a more loyal person, but I may be a bit too loyal. I’m not leaving Blake in Phoenix until I die. I’m not going to stop loving my boyfriend till I’m dead. Not till the day I drop dead.
IF I could tell myself at six how it felt to be abused, I would say, “Bad.” Just a three letter word for something so horrendous: “Princesses are not real.” Give me a break, family. I want a prince in my life, and all the other boyfriends were frogs, and Jason was … a rotten toad. He was too rotten for me. Blake is a frog that I kissed, even in my mind, and according to Czech legend, if you kiss a frog and it turns into a prince, you’ve found the right one. A lady named Erika told me this, and I’ve believed it somehow. Well, not real frogs. But personality wise, a lot of men are frogs. Blake is not a frog. He is a handsome prince. He became my prince when I laid my hand in his, when my dreams were infiltrated with a longing unlike any other. When he said he loved me, I stopped thinking about Jason. Blake, when I hear you say, “I love you.”, it makes me feel as though the world stops turning. When he says he loves me, I feel like the Queen of Denver. I feel like I’m the Queen of Denver, and I am someone valuable and special. It’s not in the roses I get, it’s not the diamonds that other men might buy me or my body with. It’s the words. Words are like weapons, but there are purr words as Hayakawa might have said. The great philosopher Hayakawa said things about “snarl words and purr words.” When you say you love me, my Blake, the words, … feels like a purr of a cat. Isn’t that a good thing? I’m not kidding. When you said you cared about me, I felt so valued and loved, I did not need a single rose. I don’t care if you are poor, penniless, you at least have a family, you’re not those weirdos on the street, etc. I don’t know if I’ll ever see you again, but my heart beats your name every night. Blake, dear, you have so many things to tell me. I don’t want to be angry with you, I”m not.
It just helps me to say I’m in tears writing this entry, I’ve lost potential lovers with my family around, and now there’s you. I know the perfect song for you:
“There were bells on the hill,
But I never heard them ringing.
No I never heard them at all till there was you.
There were birds in the sky, but I never heard them singing,
No I never heard them at all,
Till there was you.”
Wonderful quote there.
Guys, if you really cared I know you’d all read this and respond accordingly. I know I should OWN this, but I can’t own this and go financially downhill like this, I can’t afford to lose my house and stuff. I must go, and I can’t lose Blake, but he’s more important.
Thank you all.