Power of Believing. (Storytellers Ball.)

I was at one of my jobs today, and ran into a girl that I had gone to a class with for a bit. And we got to talking. A guy she was seeing got into a car accident and was unconscious. I told her about my friend, Baldy, who was overcoming cancer again, and had a scan for Friday to make sure he's cancer free. She instantly said that she would say a prayer for him and was hoping I'd keep Justin in my thoughts for her. I said I would.

I can't say if there is or is not a God. I'm not the one to make that call. I grew up going to church every week in my Sunday's best. We did not ever go in Friday casuals. One thing that has always seemed to stick with me is my silent prayers when I'm screaming in my mind, "PLEASE, GOD, JUST MAKE IT STOP" When my ropes are short and my emotions are at my lowest. Or "Please let him be o.k. Please let him get better." Little things, little silent prayers when I feel I need it most. I never prayed much in church, I never knew what to say, but when my heart sang out in pain or in concern, my silent prayers flow through my mind. Not directed at God, specifically. Just at anybody who could hear me. Because most times, I feel as if my voice is never quite heard, especially when it's most important. 

I feel as though, when my faith in religion grew out of me, as my depression grew more and more predominant in my childhood, I also grew more into my faith in people. I have suffered endlessly, battling a dark vicious cycle that feels like an ever growing abyss. 
I still battle it. 
Alone. 
All on my own.
I never want anyone to suffer through this, knowing what I've seen, what I've yet to probably see. I am a protector, a nurturer. I want to heal everyone of their scars, to relieve their troubles and their world on their shoulders and carry it with mine. I don't want anyone to experience what I do. I want to heal. I want to listen to your story. I know you have one. 

This is for Justin. I hope you wake soon and heal from your accident. 
This is for Baldy. And for Ashley. Two best friends who are truly amazing.
They are an inspiration. Fighting cancer twice, being optimistic, and staying beside each other through it all.
I can't wait to see the hospital on Friday, so I can take in and explore the world you've seen through treatments these past few months.
This is for you. The person reading this. I don't know what your story is. But I can. I want you to heal.
I don't want you to feel as if you're alone. I am here. 

I am always here.