The littlest things...

Mean the most.

As I sat in my room telling myself "I don't want to think about this at all, I don't want to think about what just happened" of course, all I could think about is what just happened and how much I was getting upset about it. And just as I began to have a geavy stream line of tears galloping down my face, my mom called for dinner.
Great.

How was I going to stop/explain why I have blood shot eyes, a soaked face, and rained-through makeup?

I wiped them away, but honestly, that did really nothing. They continued to fall with every step down the stairs jolting new tears onto my cheeks. I finally took a breath and last swipe before I walked into the kitchen and dining room.
I scarfed dinner as fast and with as little conversation as I could when suddenly my dad says "Julie, want to go run an errand with me?"
I'm never asked to go on 'errands' with dad.

I went upstairs, measeled my hair into a somewhat ponytail, put on some jeans and an old raggedy sweatshirt and moccassins and headed out the door.
As soon as I got in the car dad says, "I see you're upset, are you sad about something in particular?"
Yep, that did me in, I Guess all the emotions I've been holding in about everything for the past month or two just poured out in forms of tear drops. He rubbed my back and drove straight to an ice cream parlor, got out and returned with a big cup of mint chocolate chip(my favorite)

We then proceeded to James Avery to shop for my mother's St. Valentine's ring. And then to walmart where I was gifted with the new Eagle's c.d. and a bag of sour patch kids.

The best little gifts I have gotten.
A cup of ice cream, c.d., candy, and best of all not a question asked, just taken for what I truly am and taken care of regardless.

Hmph.