The person who gets killed off first.

I'm finally starting to realize what it means to not want to be that character.  I don't want to be that person who gets killed in the first five minutes of the film.  They usually are a very mediocre person, and no one knows who they are.

I worry that someday something major is going to happen, and I'm going to be that person.  I'll be an unknown.  My life will be smaller than a small Rita's Italian Ice.  Really, who really ever feels as though that size is enough?

I have dreams that one day I'll be the person who is able to get all A's, or I'll pull of some large meaningful event.  My goals always seem to be one or two or three steps shy of what I really wanted to accomplish.  I want to live life big.  I want to tackle the hard questions.  I want to stand in front of a speeding bullet.

Its a shame we won't know what our lives were meant to be, until they are taken from us.  I'm glad that my life doesn't end at the fate of my physical body though.  I know that God has great plans for my life.

Winter Song by Sara Bareilles and Ingrid Michaelson

Bum bum bum bum bum bum bum bum
Bum bum bum bum bum bum
Bum bum bum bum bum bum

This is my winter song to you.
The storm is coming soon, 
It rolls in from the sea

My voice; a beacon in the night.
My words will be your light, 
To carry you to me.

Is love alive?
Is love alive?
Is love

They say that things just cannot grow
Beneath the winter snow, 
Or so I have been told.

They say were buried far, 
Just like a distant star
I simply cannot hold.

Is love alive?
Is love alive?
Is love alive?

This is my winter song.
December never felt so wrong, 
Cause you're not where you belong; 
Inside my arms.

Bum bum bum bum bum bum bum bum
Bum bum bum bum bum bum
Bum bum bum bum bum bum

I still believe in summer days.
The seasons always change
And life will find a way.

I'll be your harvester of light
And send it out tonight
So we can start again.

Is love alive?
Is love alive?
Is love alive?

This is my winter song.
December never felt so wrong, 
Cause you're not where you belong; 
Inside my arms.

This is my winter song to you.
The storm is coming soon
It rolls in from the sea.

My love a beacon in the night.
My words will be your light
To carry you to me.

Is love alive?
Is love alive?
Is love alive?
Is love alive?