Last night at Younglife it was my turn to give my testimony.

I have never half-assed something so horribly in my life.

I'm surprised I didn't tell them what shoe size I wore.

The response was, "sounds like you have a pretty perfect life..."

And I just said, "Yah, I love my life"

And to be completely honest,

I look at my life as something perfectly crafted. It is a masterpiece and I'm the finish work.

Yes, I've been through some heavy struggles. Yes, I've made my mistakes. I'm not so much ashamed about the things that have happened as much as I like them to stay in the past, and stirring that stuff up only makes me feel down.  The last thing I'm looking for is pity from strangers. 

Crucial details that make me who I am-remain somewhat locked inside of me. If asked specifically to open up, I can. But willingly letting people into the deepest most vulnerable part of my heart is a privilege I don't hand out freely. 

Trust. 

One foot in front of the other, Jenelle.

Keep going.

I have found myself looking back

and missing things and people that

are accurately placed in my past.

I keep being told "new chapter, Jenelle"

but I am still somehow in love with

the story that trails behind me.

I have yet to take a breather

while turning these pages

as fast as my fingers can.

Through the self-hatred,

self-mutilation, depression,

death, financial crashes,

neglect, education imbalance, 

lying and stealing,

drinking, waking up next

to strangers, chemical drugs,

losing friends, sex, broken hearts, 

cheating, pregnancy scares,

clutching on to "maybe" hopes,

the gossip, the loneliness,

stolen kisses, broken promises,

harsh words, false accusing, 

misunderstandings, 

failure to feel, failure to love,

leading on, face to face,

brokenness to brokenness.

New chapter, Jenelle.

Do not look back.

I am new...

Oh, Jenelle.

You probably need to apologize for unnecessary flirting.

sawwy.

(: list:

My weekend was beautiful.

My date to homecoming was sweet.

My ex-boyfriend finally treated me so good.

I had dinner.

I danced till my legs were sore.

My hair stayed bangin' the whole night.

I looked pretty cute.

There are a lot of really good songs on the radio right now.

My excessive texting has picked up again.

I for sure have a job at Coffee Bean and Teal Leaf on Tatum and Shea (:

I fell in love with all my girlfriends this week.

My relationships with both my brothers are building stronger and most trusting, daily.

Nick and Cora's wedding in approximately 8 weeks, and counting.

My car is running great.

I think I have more than two boys crushing on me right now. 

My best friend is (almost) dating a really amazing guy, and it makes me sooooooo happy.

I have goals.

I have life.

I have influence.

I have faith.

I have strength.

I have health.

I have wisdom.

I have Christ pulsing through my veins.

iLove.

Uhm...

I noticed today that I don't eat anymore?

Beautiful boy

I loved him more than anything else in my life.

My absolute world.

I tried to keep him, I tried so hard.

I meant to keep every promise I ever made.

I did my best.

And fought even when told not to.

He's never been capable of staying with me.

He destroys me.

Leaves me. Loves me.

I don't know what I think of him, who he is.

I fail to recognize my wrongs in our relationship.

I would be on your arm tonight,

If you could have toughed it out.

Instead, you gave me up.

I tried I tried I tried I tried.

I am so sorry.

Like you always say, 

I'll always love you.

Friday.

If you're given the chance to make a choice,

a right choice-what do you do?

Would you fight for what's right or just do what comes more naturally?

I wish things could be more distinct. Not necessarily for me, but for those around me, and those that have done wrongs against me. Your opportunities are seemingly endless, to make things right. But--there's only a level of right you'll be able to achieve once you've wronged time folded over time, and again.

If we could get things right, right off the bat, and I don't mean perfect, but the desire and the sacrifice to do the right thing, the heart that longs to have things straight no matter what the cost, oh my goodness, the broken heart rates would drop. How many suicides and broken homes we could save. But we yell, and we hurt one another. You were given the chance to rebuild something and make it stronger, and you destroyed it. How many chances do you get? 

Do you get as many as it takes to get it right?

It's those that fight for the good, that get screwed over. Because we're the only ones standing--therefore the only ones capable of being shoved to the ground. Keep standing, I beg you.

This is written to my no one's that will never read this.

God is doing something different inside of me, I think. There are so many things, and feelings, that I truly just don't understand. Maybe one day, though, yah?

I will always fight for what I believe is right. I will always do my very very best to protect and love.

It just hurts to know that the lot of you out there aren't willing to do the same.

I have been stand-off-ish lately, I'm pretty sure. I'm nice, but cut conversations short. I make eye contact and forget to smile. I mean to, though. Smile, that is.

There's that snake like feeling through the core of me. It kind of whips around my spine and makes my throat feel tiny. I'm not sure what it is. I don't know what I'm anticipating.

I'm not worried about things, I'm just... thinking about things.

And people. I'm thinking about people, mostly. And their well-being. 

I have never looked at myself as a people pleaser, nor will I ever be that. But--I will say, that I will (always?) do what it takes to make sure someone is comfortable and squared away. Protected.

Protection. That's a word that's been chasing me today. Not so much that I personally want to be protected (though I do,) I want to protect other people from the aches around them.

I've yet to pick up my cross today.

I'm never sure what that means until I do it. Then I get it.

Love is a journey that's been trying to creep up on me. It hasn't arrived at my feet just yet.

The boy lingers in his own thoughts. He won't share with me--though I'm dying for him to.

I feel mistreated, though I'm not being treated at all. Few words have been spoken between us in the past two weeks. He'll be the one to change that, won't he? He won't, will he?

It's nothing serious, the things that I feel. But if we talk and agree on it, they could be.

No pressure. I mean it. No pressure. If your world is too dizzy to find an in for me. That's fine. I'll learn to be fine with that. No promises, no plans. Just let me know.

Drop sister off at church.

Swing by the boys gig.

Swing by SCA's football game.

Swing home and dream  up something beautiful.

I am good today.

Strangely nervous. But good (: