My Years (Daily Life Journal)

February 23rd, 2016: Journal Entry # 18

Journal Prompt: What is love to you?

You never truly know if someone loves you, not until they die for you, beside you, or before you. Someone that loves you will hold your hand, kiss your lips, and raise your kids. Love is when they come home with gifts for no reason. They cuddle with you, silliness in the snow. Love is the tick tick of the heartbeat from a mother under the puppies ear. The warmth of your father beside you. The strong hugs and goodbyes from your Grandpa. The love I know is served every meal my grandma makes. The ones we love stick around.

Journal Prompt: What do you look for in a boyfriend?

I look for someone who is like me. They won't push for more, be happy with the hand holding kisses I may give him and to not whine when I don't give more. He needs to do what is best for me, like I will for him. I want him to show up with a handful of roses at work. To talk like best friends, to tell the trust to their past. Will attempt to be romantic, a slow dance, a dinner. I want him to love me for I am and not the curves that shape me.

Journal Prompt: You answer the door and are surprised to see your grand-father. Standing in the doorway. Mostly because he is dead! He says," I have some important things to tell you." Talk about your reaction and what happens next.

Of course I was shocked at first. The creaking as the wind wind pulled the door to the wall, out of my grasp. My hands shaking to close the door. To slam it to the appa- impossible, apparition in front of me. The giant sigh, the uuuh under tone, my only reply. The anger, not there, fear? Not there either. I only glided a step away, to welcome him in. He embraces me, tightly. Smelling the same as if he never left. Wood stain and cedar chips. His skin the feeling of brittle old paper rasping against my arm as his grasp tightens. In the pit of my stomach, I felt, and understood the feeling. I felt sad. I had missed him for years after his death. My arms slipped to return his hug, my eyes closed, breathing in his comforting scent. As bedraggled as I was, I wiped away at a few tears and shut the door. Two steps back from my grand-fathers grasp, I saw the added age. He looked tired, worn out, and I could see feeble creeping over his shoulder. Like a ghost it was silent, a heavy oppression he didn't want to succumb to. When his lips parted to say something, I only asked. Arms crossed, defensive, and lips pursed for the worst, I waited. "We aren't human." The words that slipped free made my lips purse, and jaw slacken. My face smoothed, the wrinkles of confusion clear. Shock, that wasn't the answer I expected, not the one I had thought about at all. The next emotion, was hope, I loved the supernatural, wether evil or good. "Then what pray tell, are we?" He kept silent at that. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He touched my arm, holding it still as I tried to pull away. My arm tingled, faint grey lines crept up my arm, numb, unmoving, it slung down to my side. I could see it start to seep out of my arm, ever so slowly, my arms original color returned. My grand-father opened his eyes to see my face." We are the creatures that are supposed to balance life. We go out to save souls and decide wether they go to the beyond or... You know the rest. This ability has rested in the family, it was peculiar and only picked a few members." I swallowed, " and my parents?" He shook his head. So they really were dead... I looked down at my feet, then around my small apartment, the rejection letter from college. I rubbed a hand over my eyes. There was nothing for me here... Grimacing, "when can we leave."