The card of Hearts

I am a card with a heart on it,

it hurts to be,

the only one who cares,

the only one to play this game.

A Life Story

I am not who I once was

There was a day when I felt my life was tumbling downward into a pit of darkness. IT was a scary experience but it opened my eyes to the world. This story began on a night where I was sitting in my bed upstairs above the kitchen. I was very young about 5 or 6 and I was awake as I listened to a conversation between my father and mother. It was a sour and not very good conversation. I remember feeling dread and fear. I knew something was wrong I could sense it. Immediately I could hear my mother crying and their voices escalated in volume. The intensity of the conversation was so intense I had to listen to what was being said.

I do not remember what was said but I do remember what happened afterward. Mother came upstairs and told my brother and I that we were leaving immediately. We took our blankets and pillows and left the house.

A while later I remember us going back to the house to get our belongings and there was a police officer there. He was there because my father was addicted to alcohol and you couldn’t predict what he was going to do. The police officer’s presence made me on edge we were terrified for we did not know what to expect.

There were people there to help comfort us and distract us from what was happening in the house. WE got our stuff from the house and went to live with grandma. As a kid I did not realize of what was really happening. I could not fully comprehend what was going on. I was innocent and had no knowledge whatsoever.

When we left our house for the last time my brother and I did not want to go back. WE told our mother that we never wanted to go back. WE were scared of him. WE did not know what to expect from somebody who was addicted to alcohol. All we knew was that we were scared.

Because of our expressed feelings our mother took away all rights from our father. Our Mother was glad to do what her children wanted. Our last name was changed and my brother’s middle name was changed.

A couple years ago our father terminated his own rights. He signed a legal document that changed his life and our lives forever. I was not there but I was told that my father expressed his regret in not being able to support us and see his kids grow up. He cried and showed great emotion. At this time he was sober. This man, my father, made a decision to never see his kids again to help protect his own children from what he has done in his life and stills does to this day.

Why do I tell you this story? Because this experience has changed me forever. I know that my father is a good man. When he is sober he is a stellar man. My mother married a man she loved. That man was my sober father. When my father decided to destroy his life by drinking he became a new man. A man we did not know. This was not my father. It has taken me over 12 years to realize that.

In the end I came to the realization that People are more than what they decide to do.

Welcome Home

Today on the Fourth of April I get the opportunity to welcome my real self to this blog. From here on out I will write under my own name. Before that happens I want to say a few things about myself.

FIVE THINGS YOU SHOULD KNOW ABOUT JASON DAVIS

1. I love writing. I have been a writer ever since elementary school. One day I am going to be author.

2. I am a deeply religious boy (technically a man). I am part of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. I want to be a Seminary Teacher.

3. I love to read. I would read all day every day if I could.

4. I work at Timberline Middle School as a Sweeper. It is quite interesting.

5. I love to be around and get to know people. I like to talk to everyone I see in the halls. If you see me say Hi.

To end I want you guys to know that who Carpe Diem was is who I am. I have not changed because I felt like I could hide. I tell you what I have known and will keep telling you what I know. Thank you for reading my blog posts. Without you I would have no audience.