This is a true story that i decided to write today in hopes of making an impact on the spoiled kids of America!! Don't be too alarmed, but please read and review.

Reality

We all know it. We all live in it everyday. But it’s when it slaps us in the face that we stumble backwards and say how shocked we are to see it.

When it comes to all the awful things that have or are occurring in my life, I have only one thing to say: I hate reality. I hate it like a rainy day on a putt-putt night or an open wound soaked in salt.

When asked on how I survive the pain I’ll say, “I’ll pretend it’s not happening.”

Sure, it’s denial.

But sure, it works.

Denial is sometimes the only thing that brings me from one day to the next. It can be a lifeline and a way to smile. I pretend that what’s happening isn’t happening and that it’s all just a dream. I convince myself that I’m watching a movie and it was all just a sad story, as opposed to my life.

The man that is my most recent heartache is what I’m here to talk about. His name is Greg, and yes, this is a love story, but not the kind you think. His story is the one that slaps me over and over and over again.

He was a kind and gentle man, never outspoken, but friendly. Greg had soft, brown hair with a white birth mark running through the front, left side of his hair. He was always a bit stubbly and had wrinkles of age running around his chin and forehead. His body mass was small and frail, but his overall personality made him seem stronger than he might appear.

His diagnosis was what changed everything.

Lou Garigh’s disease is the awful killer. It eats him up more and more every time I see him. He can’t speak anymore, and it pained me to hear him do so when he could. I hated seeing him struggle to pronounce his words and fight to speak just another sentence. I hate seeing him having to point when he wants to speak with someone or say ‘hello’ because that’s all he has to offer. I hate seeing him having to write down on a little five-by-three notebook every time he wants to say something to someone. And yes, I hate reality.

You know why?

Because the reality is that that man, the man whom I love like a brother and whom I have prayed for with as much as earnesty as I do for my most dear problems, is going to die. Slowly and surely, his body will degrade into uselessness as I standby and watch. Yes, this is reality and I can’t deny it.

But this time, while watching his physical body waste away, his spiritual body continues to grow. He loves God and does everything he can for him. Once Greg couldn’t speak anymore, he started e-mailing self-written gospel tracts to people. He even came on church visitation with us last night that I can’t even convince my healthy, easy-going friends to accompany me on when they have nothing else better to say for themselves than “I felt like staying home.”

Yes, and for once, I wish I could change reality. I wish I could slap it in the face and let it’s face sting for a change. I’ve prayed. And even though I know that God just wants to prove His greatness and make use of Greg’s awesome testimony, just this once… I wish it didn’t have to.

I love Greg.

I hate reality.