Genoa and Kevin - both 15 - explore what it means to be loved when you can't seem to get it right.


5. (Kevin)

I can't. I can't, I can't, I can't, I can't! I screamed in my head. I can't do this! Don't let it be this way!

They say that there's a God. And, if they're right, why don't they tell him to listen. It only makes every atheist believe that they're right. I thought I was right once too, but they say that he'll fix anything, so I've got to try.

I think that you're meant to start a prayer with: 'Dear Lord' or 'Father' but if he's true, he'll listen to whatever I have to say and however I choose to say it.

'Choice'; what a great word.

Everyone has a choice. And not just one choice. Hundreds of choices. Hundreds and thousands of choices. Baloney or tuna sandwich? Pink tie or red? History at Berkeley or Med school?

And just like any of those choices, this choice is my choice. Apparently. I choose to act this way. It's all me.

Your choice is your choice until someone changes it for you. Then, if you choose to accept it, their choice can still be your choice, only you didn't choose it. Does that make sense? It's like, if I chose to eat a cheeseburger for dinner that would be my choice. But if someone came and told me that I should eat salmon and I decided to eat salmon instead, the choice to ditch the burger was mine. Even though it was someone else's.

So, according to that, I chose to be who I am. And I can chose to be who I'm not, because my parents have already chosen that option for me.

I can't do this. I can't do it. I don't want it to be this way.

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