Life is Short..

It’s been a hard week for reasons I shall talk about later..

However, my friend had sent me an old essay I wrote in High School and it brought me back to realize the problems I have today will pass and tomorrow is never promised, and I need to make the most of today. Here is the essay and if you choose to read it I hope it also makes you realize what I’ve realized. Love you all and thanks for reading..

Comforting a Friend in Need
The morning was cold and gray, as it usually started out, and I had just gotten to school. I took my pace of walking at normal speed, brisk and determined of where I was going and who I would run in to. As I was walking down the stark hallway, I came upon a situation that to this day has ever changed my compassion towards people and how I could help them.
During my usual walk to class I had my head down thinking of nothing at all of what was going to happen to me just the thought of wanting to go back home to my warm bed and sleep. The hallway was cold, and you could see the dirt being whisked away by the wind. Teachers were in their classrooms preparing for their day. I would run into a few students and greet them with a hello. Then I lifted my head and saw a familiar face, but the face had a look of despair on it that I have never seen before. I looked up and saw my close friend, Corey Teague. His eyes were bloodshot. Hair tangled in a mess, he had the looked of lost sleep for about two days. I then commented on his appearance, “Wow you sure do look tired.” that was a comment I wasn’t ready for the answer too. He responded to me with a gulp in his throat and a tone of sorrow as he said, “Well what do you expect? My best friend just died. How you want me to look, happy?” After hearing this I had walked by him about two feet, I turned my body around stiffly, and saw his expression on his worn-out face. I had no words; all I could do was run up to Corey and hug him.
That day Corey had a polo tournament and therefore he was wearing his travels. His hair was its usual mess and all he carried was a backpack and an extra book in his left hand. I had on my black band sweatshirt, a pair of plain jeans and my usual Converse.
After hearing his news I held him close with the fear of letting go, for I knew he was a wreck. His tears rolled down his face and on to my black sweatshirt. His sobs were many and hard as a rock. I could feel his skinny body shake in my arms. As I cradled his head, I just kept repeating, “It’s ok Corey. Let it out. Just cry. I’m here. Just cry…” He took this advice very well and went on to tell me what had occurred. I couldn’t believe it. Andrew Spencer had died, and I had no clue of how, when, or why just the knowledge of my friend being hurt and torn to shreds. Then everything would be silent, and we would just sway and he would juts keep sobbing.
Our embrace had now come to end and I looked at his face, bloodshot red, sad, and noticeably lost of sleep. All I could speak to him was that I was so terribly upset this has happened to him and how I was there for him in everything and this wasn’t going to stop me from being there for him at all. Corey was mad at the world and at God, and I did not want that to be the case.
After our long hugs and talk, I then continued to my class. I was then late, but I did not seem to notice it due to the many thoughts and emotions going through my shaken body. I sat down in my class and started to cry, I have never been in a situation like the one that just occurred and I found that I was weak and didn’t know what do think or feel. I was then told the story of what had happened. Andrew Spencer was killed when he was learning to ride a motorcycle. He had a friend driving a truck behind him for emergency reasons. As Andrew turned a corner up around 24th Street his motorcycle had spun out, he then struck a tall thick tree. Many people rushed to his side just top see that he died at the scene.
Later that day I went to Corey at lunch. It was not hot and the feel of the sun beating on my back had comforted me. I need to go see how my friend was doing. As I walked up to him immediately he went up to me and hugged me again. As I went up to him I could see that many of his other friends were not the same, but they were noticeably not as shaken as Corey was. I approached him slowly not knowing of how he was doing or feeling at the time. His face now was still showing the affects of crying, but he had gained his color back, and I asked how he was doing. He said he was going to be okay, but that I seemed to be the only one that held him the most, and listened to his cries and fears. After hearing this I was astounded. At first I didn’t feel as if I was helping him at all, and now I came to the realization that I was one of the few that seemed to care at all.
To this day I remember that day like it was yesterday and Corey and I have become extremely close and we talk about our experience daily and how much it helped us both. We realized that things happen for a reason and that you can’t be angry with God for what happens to good people but be happy with God that good things can come out of bad events. Corey and I have gained a lasting friendship and to this day we are now best friends.


xoxoxox *Hugs through my computer*


About Megan Fitzgerald

This blog started out as a school project and I have been inspired to make it a beauty blog to put myself out there and share my thoughts on things from make-up to life and everything in between. Feel free to leave comments, good and or bad, as I am always looking to improve myself :) A little about me. I am 23 years old and recently graduated from California State Polytechnic University, Pomona in June of 2011 with a BA in Psychology. My passion for hair design and make-up artistry has always had a big part in my life. It started as an addiction, really, and now I am hoping to go to school to become licensed. Some may say "what a weird transition.. degree in Psychology to beauty school?" However, I believe people should follow their passion and their dreams, and this is mine! Life is too short to sit behind a desk! I rather be behind the chair or in front of an individual making them feel truly beautiful inside and out. I mean, hey, a lot of hair dressers I meet swear they are therapists as well ;) Here's to passion!

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