The Perfect Leader

Everybody who's ever been to a new church for the first time knows the level of awkwardness and out-of-place sensation that stirs in their stomach.

You find a parking spot and walk towards the big building; that's where the service is, right? You walk in through what you assume is the front entrance and find yourself greeted by a man or woman dressed in some sort of uniform or formal attire smiling at you. They welcome you and point you to where the service is being held, whether it's in a gymnasium, chapel, sanctuary, etc.

Slowly, with nervous tensions building in your gut, you walk towards the direction that the greeter pointed, and you find yourself in front of a door. With great courage, you open that door firmly yet softly to avoid making any noise because you don't want an entire congregation to target you with their vulture eyes, but, if you know anything about sitting in a church pew, you always look at the door when it opens.

Quickly, with sweat beads rolling down your face, you search intensely for an open seat in the very back to avoid any attention. Gratefully, God has heard your plea and granted you with just enough open seats in the back for you and your company and you can finally relax by focusing on the message or jamming to the praise band.

Then you look at the leaders who are standing up there on the grand stage. You immediately associate them with their position; the woman up front singing is the lead singer, the man in the back playing the keyboard is obviously the keyboardist, and the dressed up gentleman with a Holy Bible in his hand must be the pastor. Almost subconsciously, you register in your mind that these leaders must be special, to the point where they are perfect. Perfect people, perfect Christians, perfect leaders.

They must be, right? I mean, they're up there showing off their God-given talents. Someone like me, someone who has problems and issues, could never be up there preaching, singing, or even playing the cajon.

No, I'm not perfect. I can't even keep up with a devotional the morning after I receive one, much less stand behind a podium and preach about some story I hardly remember from Sabbath school (or Sunday school, for my Baptist and Methodist brothers and sisters).

Yet, you struggle with the fact that these leaders that you're seeing cannot, by the Bible's standards, be perfect! We are all born with the inclination to sin! So how can these leaders, playing the drums, jamming on the electric guitar, and singing beautifully, be perfect?

The answer? They're not.

With a sinful nature, and with sin in their hearts, these leaders preach and lead and sing to congregations because they have accepted Jesus Christ; nothing more, nothing less.

***

At the moment, I am unable to be a leader because of a sin I have committed. To answer any potential questions, no, I did not kill, hurt, steal, or anything along those lines. In fact, I can go as far as to say, no one has been affected directly. But the pastor and others have come up with the conclusion that because others (mainly parents) will not approve of my "leadership capabilities" and I have been forced to step down for the time being.

This causes a stir in my heart. It eats away at the part of my brain that preserves my religion and Christianity. I understand that many people will not approve of me and my judgement due to the decision(s) I have made. But to go as far as to say I am not capable of working as a leader because of a sin I have committed is outrageous!

Consider Saul, or Paul, as God had renamed him.

In his cruelty, wickedness, and murderous character and nature, Saul was chosen by God to speak to His new people, the Gentiles; of all people, He chose Saul! Striking him with blindness for three days before healing him, God had chosen Saul to spread the Good News throughout the land.

Today, it seems as though the level of sinfulness you hold determines how involved you can be at church.

The leaders you see up there, praising God and reaching out to Him in humility and reverence, are not perfect. They are as far from perfection as you are, if not, farther. If you look deep in their past, they have committed sins that would make any parent hesitant to allow these leaders to watch over their kids. I know of pastors and leaders in the churches I have attended that have gotten drunk, high, violent, abusive, perverted, and wicked. Many pastor celebrities, if not all, were alcoholics, potheads, crack addicts, and the list goes on.

But the point of Jesus Christ and His ministry is that we are no longer measured by the amount or depth of sin that is in our hearts, but that we are saved by God's greatest sacrifice, and if we accept that free gift, we are cleansed.

Romans 3:23-26 says:

"For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God, 24 and all are justified freely by His grace through the redemption that came by Christ Jesus. 25 God presented Christ as a sacrifice of atonement, through the shedding of His blood—to be received by faith. He did this to demonstrate his righteousness, because in his forbearance He had left the sins committed beforehand unpunished— 26 He did it to demonstrate His righteousness at the present time, so as to be just and the One who justifies those who have faith in Jesus."

Essentially, the message is clear: we are all sinners, and we are all saved by God's grace and gift. We shouldn't be punished by men for sins we have committed by not being able to lead out in the church.

I am not, by any means, saying that murder, steal, and the like are acceptable and that a child molester should be allowed to work in Children's Ministry, but if the hearts of those sinners are repenting and accepting of Jesus Christ, then let them be the hands and feet of Him! Just because people, especially parents, will grumble and complain doesn't mean a leader should be forced to step down!

Understand that we are all sinners, and we all have skeletons in the closet. Guitarists are no closer to being perfect than the mother who sits in the last row is. Pastor and preachers are not closer to redemption than single fathers or rambunctious children because they can speak about a story or parable.

Remember Romans 6:14-15 and apply it to leadership:

"For sin shall not have dominion over you: for you are not under the law, but under grace. What then? shall we sin, because we are not under the law, but under grace? God forbid."

Whether it's pulled out of context or not, my argument stands the same. We are all sinners not under condemnation, but under grace. If God has called us to be leaders, then stand tall, chin up, and lead. People will grumble. People will complain. People will fight. But those who understand God's majesty and His grace will understand your leadership and why you are leading, regardless of the sins you have committed.

They will no longer look at your past but at your character. They will no longer look at your sins but at your actions. They will no longer look at your nature but at your heart. Let God be your leader, and then people will accept you as theirs, whether you have committed ten sins or ten thousand.

Stay faithful, friend.
- Joseph

The True Angel

I haven't posted in a while, but that's mainly because I've been pummeled and beaten down by life, stress, worries; you name it, I've carried it.

Life's bittersweet. One minute, you have the whole world in your hands, and the next you're on your knees begging for mercy. Yet, everything is fair. It's just. It's simple.

That sounds odd, doesn't it? Let's dissect it some, yeah?

God says clearly in the Bible how we can live a joyful life, and how we can end up in Heaven meandering the streets of gold, looking at the sights in awe. We just need to follow God; don't let go of Him.

A + B = C. Simple, right?

~~~~

I made the commitment three years ago, summer of 2012, to give my life to God. It was after ECKCM, a Korean SDA week-long gathering of all of the Korean SDA churches on the east coast. A special speaker preached and my heart was convicted.

The following school year was, admittedly, the most depressing year of my very short life. I just moved to a new school right before eighth grade, the year where everyone's picked their coterie of friends at the end of middle school, so I, unfortunately, had no one.

That's the year where my faith was tested, whether I could hold onto God despite the loneliness and distance I felt from God, or any spiritual connection. It was like I had a Sprint phone in the middle of the Pacific. Nothing.

I suffered from loneliness, isolation, and my emotions were swayed to and fro, desperately clinging onto anything that gave me a sense of happiness, even if it was for just a few moments.

But I just had to hold on, right? Just don't let go?

~~~

December 2013, I'm at a Bible study with people twice my age celebrating the merry holiday of Christmas through a thoughtful Secret Santa gift exchange (I bought my friend a pull-up bar for $20, it's still in usable condition - not bad, eh?). That was the day I started to latch onto a certain person and badger them about everything in my life.

The first few months, I annoyingly asked for rides from here to there, and she was passive-aggressively frustrated with me. That's fine, my persistent nature kept going at her.

The next few months, people started to notice and make jokes about us being in a relationship. I pondered at the thought of it, while she was scared for her life, pushing me away to the ends of the earth. No biggie, I'll just push through.

Several months go by and I'm still asking for rides, but these 10-minute rides turn into 3-hour talks about random things, like, how I'm struggling with a certain girl, or I'm wondering whether I should do this or that, and she makes the effort to be there for me. No judging. Just love.

For some reason, an annoying little boy asking repeatedly for rides turns into just hanging out with each other. Like friends. Best friends.

At one point, she told me that she was praying for an angel to come down and save her from her dark abyss, asking for a hand to grab her and pull her up. I came to her rescue, just on time. God's timing is perfect, is it not?

Because of my "modest" personality, I took small pride in being her angel, her comfort, her miracle. I was always entertained by the thought that I could be the shoulder she leaned on, and I would always be her firm pillar of hope and strength. I felt so big, so strong, so happy.

Recently, circumstances have made things complicated, and now I don't have that friendship at the moment, the intimate one-on-one. They say you never know what you have until you don't have it.
Boy, is that true...

You see, I wasn't the angel that came down and rescued her from her troubles and worries; I was the damsel in distress, the cat stuck in a tree, the bullied nerd, and she was the Superwoman that rescued me, the firefighter that helped me down, the teacher that beat up the mean bully for me.
She was my angel.

She was my angel.

~~~

God says to hold onto Him for a just a little bit longer, just long enough until He returns. Don't lose hope, don't let go, and don't give up. As I had held on until I couldn't anymore, God sent an angel to rescue me, and all of the sweetest words and most expensive jewelry can never pay either of them back. I can only do what I've been told to do: love. Love with as much love my heart can give.

There are people in our lives who we don't recognize, just how Balaam didn't realize that a donkey was talking and conversing with him, and they're there for our own good and our own health. Appreciate them, tell them that you love them. Let them know you're thinking about them, and express towards them the love that God showed and presented to the whole universe through His only begotten Son.

Be the love that God loves you with, and, for the love of God, don't let go of Him.

"For I am the LORD your God who takes hold of your right hand and says to you, Do not fear; I will help you." - Isaiah 41:13

Stay faithful, friend.

- Joseph

Walking in the Light

For a while, I've really been into the whole Batman franchise; Batman, the Joker, Oswald Cobblepot, the different Boy Wonder Robins. So, it would be natural for me to get into the new FOX channel TV series, Gotham, which focuses on the origins of the iconic Batman villains and, most importantly, Commissioner James "Jim" Gordon before the "Commissioner".

There's a scene from one of the episodes when Detective Gordon, a righteous, by-the-book policeman, is working with the Penguin, a rising-up-the-ranks mobster named Oswald Cobblepot, and he realizes he doesn't want to get into corrupt business deals with Cobblepot anymore. He says, and I quote:

"You know, Jim, it's better to walk in the darkness with a friend than by yourself in the light."

How true is that? Not at all, of course, since we really don't walk alone in the light, even though it seems as if the world is against us.

I've written before about my chorus class, and how much drama is between each member. There are secrets about each other that would make Satan dance with glee. Today in chorus class, we decided to play a bonding game of "Never Have I Ever", and the premise of the game is that there is a circle of people with one less number of chairs than there are people. The odd man out is standing in the middle, and he/she states what they have never done, so for example, the person would say, "Never have I ever gone skydiving," and everyone who has gone skydiving would stand up and find a new seat, while the person who stated their "Never Have I Ever" would try to find an open seat. As a result, a new person states theirs.

It was my turn, and, because there were no adults or teachers, we decided to play the "What Happens in Vegas Stays in Vegas" version. I said something that I truly have not done, but it crossed lines. Yet, it was pressured on to me to say it, and I fell into that temptation. What made it worse is that there was one gal who, as I've known prior to this entire game, was a very devout Christian, a God-loving person. She hated sin as much as a human possibly can, and she gestured me towards her. Soft-spoken and gentle, she requested that things be kept more PG-13. I obliged, yet to no avail. No one really listened, nor did they care. I didn't stand up for her. I threw her under the bus, so to speak.

Throughout the rest of the class period, repeated debauchery and profanity were spat out as if throwing a bucket of staining paint onto a dry, pure canvas. I observed my classmate. She was very saddened; not angry, not depressed, not full of hatred. Sad. Disappointed. Hurt.

The Bible talks about us being like the church of Laodicea, how they're like lukewarm water. Neither hot nor cold, and they spit out that lukewarm water because it was disgusting. In other words, the church is neither fully in God, nor is it completely submerged in the world. Many times I find myself just like that: not completely obeying God, and not fully wicked and of the world. I should have stood for what's right. I should have been there for her. I should have been there for Him. Yet I failed Him, her, my classmates...

Guilt overcomes me. It kills me. It takes away my dignity, my self-respect, my willpower. I am conquered by conscience shaking its head at me.

Proverbs 24:16 says, "For though the righteous fall seven times, they rise again, but the wicked stumble when calamity strikes."

I feel like the wicked man. I am the wicked man. But the hope that is God's promise that I will continue striving to be the righteous man, rising and rising. I hope that when my faith is tested again, I can stand proudly in the light, with God to hold onto, and I can shine the light on the darkness for what it really is.

I hope that one day, I can stand up for her.

Stay faithful, friend.
- Joseph

I'll Be Okay!

"Honey, let me see. Let me see!"
John couldn't let go of her. She was beautiful, mystical, and enchanting. She had her mother's eyes, but his own smile.

"Okay, here, but be quick," John replied, handing over their newborn baby girl reluctantly.

"Be quick? I carried this little booger for nine months, and pushed her out for a good two hours so I can be quick?" Jennifer glared at him for what seemed like an eternity, even after he handed her the bundle of joy.

"No, no, no, take your time!" John quickly replied. "But... What should we name her?" He looked at her and thought for a while, squinting his eyes like he usually did whenever he focused too hard on something.

"Sarah."

"What?"

"With an 'H', like your mother. Sarah." She smiled at little Sarah.

"Sarah..." John muttered under his breath. "I love it." A tear ran down his left cheek.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing. I love it." He took Sarah back into his arms. "Sarah," he whispered into her ear. "You're going to hurt a lot of boys, but you're going to break my heart first." He smiled. "I might even have to register for a gun license."

"John," Jennifer said quietly. "You worry too much." She smiled again. "She'll be okay!"

***

"Where do you think you're going, Princess?"

Little Sarah was about to open the door before her father caught her while he was reading the news.

"Don't worry, Daddy! Isabel and Christina want me to come to the playground and play!" she said with a big grin on her face.

"Did you ask Mommy?" John inquired cautiously.

"Yes, Daddy, Mommy said it was okay!" Sarah replied enthusiastically.

"Do you have your jacket?"

"Daddy, don't worry about me too much! Mommy said it'll give you wrinkles!"

"Okay, have fun, sweetie. And be safe!"

"Don't worry, I'll be okay!"

***

"Honey," Jennifer nudged gently, "Honey, get up! Our daughter has her dance recital in twenty minutes, and you look like the neighbor's hedgehog on a bad hair day. Get ready!"

John looked at the his daughter's very first yearbook picture that was framed and placed on his nightstand next to his pillow. The frame was silver and had a flowery pattern bordering the toothless portrait of the angel that fell from heaven. A tear ran down John's left cheek. Where has the time gone? One minute she was as small as his hands, and now she's big enough to push herself on the swing set on the playground.

"Daddy!" Sarah called as she was running into her parents' bedroom. "Daddy, Daddy, Daddy! Hurry up or Ms. Stevens won't give me a sticker next to my name! Daddy, let's go!"

"I'm hurrying, Princess, I'm hurrying!" John replied as he was getting up. He wiped the tear and got dressed.

"Are you sure you want to do this? Will you be fine?" John asked cautiously.

"You worry too much, Daddy!" Sarah exclaimed. "I'll be okay!"

***
"Y-Yes, sir."

"And you'll have her back by 10:00 PM sharp?"

"Yes, sir, n-no problem at all!" Eric said sheepishly.

"I don't want any funny business going on." John threatened.

"Dad!" Sarah groaned. She glared at him with the same eyes her mother has.

"Okay, okay, okay, I'm sorry." John looked down. "But seriously, I have a gun license that I've signed up for a while back, and-"

"Dad!"

"Sorry, Princess, just making sure." He conjured up a silly smile at her, but she rolled her eyes.

"I'm sorry, Eric. Can you wait outside?" Sarah asked her boyfriend.

"You know I worry about you, right, Princess?"

"Yeah," she responded quietly. "But you don't have to worry all the time!"

"I know." He winked. "But just be careful out there. I was a boy, too, you know..."

"I love you, Daddy." She gave him a big hug. "Seriously, nothing bad is gonna happen."

He held her for as long as he could. He knew that time was running out for him, so he held her even tighter.

"I love you, too, Princess. Be safe, for me," he choked with tears raining down his face. Sarah wiped his tears and kissed him on the cheek.

"Don't worry, Daddy," she smiled. "I'll be okay!"

***

"Sweetie?" John knocked on his daughter's door.

"Go away!" she cried.

"Sweetie, I just want to talk."

"I said go away!" she screamed louder.

"You know, I broke your mother's heart more times than I can count." The crying got quieter. "And every time, she's forgiven me. I remember one time I forgot our anniversary, and she made me sleep on the couch for a week! You know how I got her to forgive me? I had to make her breakfast, lunch, and dinner every day for the next month. Do you know how hard it is to make lunch for her when I have work at 10:00 AM every morning, and at the same time I have to make a full course breakfast? Let's just say your mother didn't like eating eggs and cereal for two meals a day. But it was all worth it."

The doorknob clicked quietly, and the door opened slightly. John turned around and looked up. Sarah sat down next to him and put her face into his chest and sobbed.

"You know that gun license I got a long time ago?"

"Dad, no, stop," she giggled. "It's fine."

"No daughter of mine is going to get her heart stomped on by a no-good punk who's got nothing better to do but cheat on my little princess!"

Sarah laughed and rested her face on her father's chest. John wiped her face with his sleeve and cradled her in his arm.

"I know a good place to hide a body."

"Dad, seriously, I'm fine."

He looked at her and smiled, and she looked back with the same eyes her mother has.

"I'm here for you, even when you're sad and heartbroken."

"Thanks, Daddy. I love you," she smiled.

"Seriously, I have that old gun next to my bed!"

"With you, Dad," Sarah said cheerfully, "I'll be okay!"

***

"A little help?"

She was walking down the stairs, with her hair all done and make-up majestically applied. She was wearing that beautiful teal blue dress, and it perfectly slimmed around her top, but danced around pleasantly around her ankles. It was the dress she bugged and pleaded her father for, or else she would die if she didn't wear it to prom. Around her neck was her mother's necklace, the very same blue necklace that brought out her mother's eyes, just as it did her own. The very same blue necklace John gave to her mother the night they went on their fourth anniversary during the last semester of their senior year. They were troublemakers then, but not Sarah. She was the perfect angel; the perfect princess.

She pointed to her back where the zipper wasn't completely zipped up.

"Of course, Princess," John croaked. "Just stay still for a bit."

She twirled around so her back was facing him. "Thanks for buying me this dress, Daddy!"

"No problem. Anything for my little Princess." John was fighting back tears as to not ruin his baby girl's dress. "You know, you look stunning, m'dear." He zipped up her dress and turned her around.

"Why, thank you, Father, 'tis a pleasure to be accompanied by a gentleman such as yourself," Sarah chortled. They both laughed and embraced each other.

"Don't be late," her father ordered playfully. "And don't be hanging around with the wrong crowd. And don't drink, you know that. And do not, under any circumstances, ruin that dress; it was expensive."

"Whatever, Dad," she said, rolling her eyes. "And don't worry, I won't be late. Or drink."

"I love you, sweetie," her father whispered.

"I love you, too, Daddy," she replied gently. "I'll be okay!"

***

"Socks?"

"Yeah, Dad."

"Shirts?"

"Uh huh."

"Pants?"

"Yeah, Dad."

"Underwear?"

"Dad!" Sarah said with disgust.

"Just making sure! Bras?"

"Yes, Dad, I have everything!" Sarah exclaimed.

Her dad looked at her with a big smile and sighed. Tears were filling up his eyes.

"Oh, Daddy," Sarah muttered, "Come here, you big oaf." She put her arms around her father's waist and placed her head on his stomach. "You know I love you, right, Daddy?"

John wiped his eyes with his sleeve. "I love you even more, Princess. But you should finish your packing if you want to get to the airport on time. The university is pretty far from here, and if you leave now you can still make it, but then again there's traffic, so maybe you should just stay another day, unless you think-"

"Dad, Dad, calm down," Sarah reassured him, "I can still make it. But I can also stay another day. Orientation's not for another two weeks. Just relax." She kissed him on the cheek.

Her father smiled at his princess. "Did you know that just eighteen years ago..."

"Oh boy," Sarah sighed.

"Did you know that just eighteen years ago, you fit perfectly in my palms? Now, you're all grown up and going to college?" He gazed into her eyes, tears coming back to him. "My baby girl, finally an adult, and it all happened so fast..."

Sarah looked at her dad. "Daddy, these past eighteen years, you and Mom did the best job of raising me and making me who I am today, and you will continue to be a big part of my life even after today. I will always love you, no matter what." As she wiped a tear from her dad's face, her own eyes started to tear up.

Her father chuckled. "You'll be fine on your own, right?"

She smiled. "I'll be okay!"

***

"Honey?"

"Yes, dear?" John replied.

"She wants to see you."

"I'll be right there." John walked up to the room where his daughter was getting ready. He knocked on the door. "Sweetie? You wanted to see me?"

"Come in!" a voice called.

John opened the door. "Sweetie?" He froze and just stared. His jaw fell and he fell to the ground as he saw his daughter, dressed in white, standing in front of a mirror. Tears were welling up in his eyes.

"Oh, Dad!" Sarah ran to her father and helped him up. "What's wrong? Is it my hair? Is it the make-up? Ooh, I knew Mom put on too much blush, but she wouldn't listen!"

"No, no, no, you- you look fine. In fact, you look gorgeous." Her father gazed at her and smiled. "You know, twenty-five years ago..."

"Oh, boy," Sarah sighed.

"Twenty-five years ago, you were just a teeny-tiny baby that would cry every time something bad happened. Eighteen years ago, you were in kindergarten, and you lost your teeth right before the yearbook pictures, and you cried and cried, but I told you how beautiful you looked, so you wiped your tears, and you smiled the biggest smile I had ever seen. Ten years ago, you went on your first date, and you even had your first kiss. I almost killed the punk who broke your heart a year later. But seven years ago, you left for college, and your mother had to comfort me the entire time you were gone. She even complained that I spent too much time staring at your kindergarten picture." Tears flowed down Sarah's cheeks. "The days you were sick, I felt so helpless. The days you were out with your friends, having a great time, I felt so lonely. The days you were excited about a new boy, I felt so jealous. The days you were heartbroken, I felt so angry and disgusted. But now, I  don't know what I feel besides queasy." John looked down then back at his daughter and chuckled.

"Dad..." Sarah said, bawling.

"Princess, don't cry! It'll ruin your make-up!" Her father proclaimed.

"Don't worry about that, Mom can fix it," she choked.

"I have always dreaded this day, the day when you officially give your heart to another boy. For years it belonged to me, but now, another boy is going to have to take care of you now."

"Daddy, I love you."

"I love you, too."

"I will always be there for you, Daddy."

"And I will always be here, waiting."

"Will you be fine with me gone?"

John smiled at his baby princess. "I'll be okay!"

Strengthening Your Heart

When I was in the sixth grade, I had this humongous crush on this cute Korean girl in my orchestra class; she made me feel like I was dancing on clouds! At the end of the school year, I built up all the courage and bravery any sixth grader could possibly have and I asked her out. To my dismay, she said to wait until the next school year before telling me her answer. During the summer, we talked and had late night phone calls and we Facebook messaged a lot; we became closer!

But one day in July, I found out she started dating another boy, and when I asked her about it, she said that it was just a joke. They weren't really dating, they were seeing who would be more disgusted and back out, like some sort of sick game. This broke my stubborn heart, and I broke down and cried all night.

The next school year came along, and there was a new girl in my science class. I found out she had a crush on me... from her. My recuperating heart decided she was cute and she was worth asking out, so I did exactly that. Her response? "Yes."

My heart jumped and leaped with joy, and I was the happiest seventh grader alive. But I found out my old crush, the one that tangoed and stomped all over my kiddy heart, became jealous of her. So, I took that as a sign to break up with my girlfriend and ask out my old wounds. Funny thing is, she said yes! I was so happy and gleeful... until she dumped poor, awkward Joseph.


When I was in the eighth grade, I had a crush on a sixth grader (who, in my younger self's defense, was very mature for her age) from church. When I found out that she found out, and there was this very awkward pause in our friendship, my heart paid the consequence.


The summer before ninth grade, I met this amazing Korean girl from Korea (a fob, if you would), and we became close friends soon after. I developed a crush on her, and I prematurely asked her out, to which she declined. Though I tried over and over, she never really came through. For about a year, I never really completely resolved my feelings for her. To this day, and even into the future, I may not be completely healed.


When I was in the ninth grade, I had some questions on whether or not this one girl, who I've known for several years, was the girl for me (infatuation, am I right?). I had a dream where I was alone with her in my high school, and we were both dressed up and dancing. I took that as another sign to ask her out, and her reply was that we were like brother and sister; a relationship would ruin that.


Now, I developed a new crush on this girl who may not even be right for me, yet I like her probably because it makes me feel better. It's like I now have someone who I can actually fight for, but I can't seem to win her over. Is it that she's too good for me? Is it that I just love self-sabotaging? Or is it that I know she doesn't feel the same, so I don't try as hard? This girl is the center of attention of all my friends, and competition is rough, especially when you're not first place and everyone's rooting for the other guy. But maybe I like the struggle. Maybe I like fighting for a useless cause. Maybe I like to wallow in self-pity.
_____________

I realize now that with every struggle I fight, and with every rejection I deal with, and with every competition I compete in I replace a piece of my broken heart with a stronger piece, like replacing a broken tire with a brand new tire. One day, I hope, I can give my heart to someone and they'll take good care of it.

One day, I hope, someone will give their heart to me and I'll take good care of it.