the thoughts that started it all

change: n. the act of becoming different; to replace or exchange with another
For as long as I can remember, I've hated any alteration to my life, any bump in my routine.
Example? I order the same meal, from the same restaurants, and eat it in the same fashion; one thing at a time.
I don't like the furniture to be rearranged, the church bulletin to be printed differently, or the type of haircut my grandmother has to be shorter or longer. And trust me, I always notice.
So, try, if you will putting yourself in my shoes for a quick minute;
because change will not, for some reason, be held at bay.

Most usually, I can accept this as a fact of life.
Today, again for some unknown reason, both my mind and my heart refuse.

I hate the fact that 84 year old Grandpas aren't around for any more tea parties. But more so, the fact that little girls seem to think they 'outgrow' these tea parties while the Grandpas are still around.
I hate the fact that 19 year old girls die before they find the cure for cancer or AIDS, or just have the chance to hug their moms one more time.
I hate the fact that best friends become strangers, and that we make new ones and forget, until like our parents we say 'hey there on the street.
I hate the fact that people break up. But more so, that people move on and the cycle continues.
I hate the fact that I don't remember every memory I ever had.
I hate that little babies grow up to be toddlers and teenagers. But more than that, I hate the fact that their lives are wished away through dreams that they would just start talking, just start walking, start school, and 'grow up already.'
I hate the fact that every hurt seems like it's going to shatter the world, only to be forgotten tomorrow.
I hate the fact that every year, a new class graduates, new somebodys gets their hearts broken, and new babies are born, but at the time it feels as if we are the very first and the very last.
I hate the fact that I can't remember that first time I 'felt' like a grownup, but more so, the last time that I felt like a kid.
I hate the fact there is a world full of hurt around me and I don't know what I've done to add or detract from it.
I hate the fact that it is only when I am in moods like these that I give pause to life.
I hate the fact that we have become so accustomed to pain that we rarely separate it from joy.
I hate the fact that the age when people lose their childlike wonder is lowered with each word of hate and each slap on the cheek.
I hate the fact that there are people in the world that aren't told everyday that they are special and unique and gifted, but more so, the fact that I've never told anyone that.
I hate the fact that people feel like they need to pretend to be something else than they are, simply to be loved, when really what they need is to be hugged tightly and told that they are.
I hate the fact that there are people living everyday just to 'get by' and that they have no joy in what they do, when there is so much passion to be had.
I hate the fact that we have forgotten what trust means, let alone how it feels.
I hate the fact that people live their lives just trying to get to that next step, that next phase, only to realize that people in every step and phase are the same, just taller and more cynical.
I hate the fact that the idealistic are looked down upon as naive, when really, what is wrong with a little innocence in the world?
I hate the fact that the opposite of optimism has become realism, when what reality needs is for someone to start looking for some good in it.

But above all, I hate the fact that as much as you fight it, change comes, and that eventually we all stop fighting.

That is all.