WWE Twitter Trend: #GiveDivasAChance

Fans Turn to Social Media to Express Outrage on Behalf of WWE Divas

What Happened on RAW

Image Credit: WWE.com

Once again, the WWE Universe has voiced its disgruntlement – this time with how the company handles the WWE Divas Division. The hashtag #GiveDivasAChance began to catch fire after an insultingly short tag team match that put Paige and Emma versus the Bella Twins.

Paige made her way to the ring, only to be left to stand idly while a Sting promotion played out. For five or so minutes, she was left to wait around. The promo ended and viewers found Emma in the ring with her partner. Her entrance wasn't televised. The Bella Twins walked down the runway and, after about a 10 second scuffle, Brie hit Emma with a quick slam and the match was over.

My Personal Insight

Here is where I must editorialize. Within this past year, Paige and Emma produced one of the greatest, most electrifying matches of the year during the NXT Women'sChampionship tournament. The final match lasted 20 minutes – and it was amazing. The two wrestlers (yes, I use the term “wrestlers” here) went back and forth, exchanging moves and blows in acrobatic fashion. The crowd was behind it the whole time, chanting both names. Paige ultimately pulled off the victory and became the first NXT Women's Champion. The match was intense, entertaining and certainly memorable. 

Wasting On-Air Time

During a podcast, Triple H told Stone Cold Steve Austin that the hardest part about adding the third hour to the RAW program is simply filling the time. That is why we saw Curtis Axel get more TV time, shouting “Axel-Mania” than we got to see of four elite female wrestlers. It is also worth noting the scraping around for time at the end of the program. Michael Cole had to scramble together extended replay commentary because the show didn't run quite long enough. Cole even had to retract his signing off statement just to kill more time. Take a guess at who would have benefited from and appreciated those extra five minutes?

Because of the above-mentioned reasons, #GiveDivasAChance became the number one trend worldwide – something the WWE did not broadcast on television. Fans want to see the Divas Division granted more time, but they also want it to be respectable time delegation. The caddy high school games and drama can be left aside. That's what Total Divas is for. They want to see the divas actually compete, not just speak.

Fellow Diva Endorsement

While the hashtag has since moved to the middle of the Twitter trend list, it accumulated more than 34,000 mentions in a small window of time. It's also worth noting that this window of time (10:30 p.m. To 9 a.m.) is when most of the PG-rated programs audience is sleeping. The WWE Universe wasn't alone in supporting the cause either. TNA Knockout Velvet Sky tweeted out the hashtag in support of her fellow female fighters. WWE Diva Renee Young retweeted the hashtag. The official Bella Twins Twitter account started favoriting tweets about the movement. The trend caught traction thanks to a select few prolific celebrities and an enraged fan base.

In a recent panel interview, the Bella Twins discussed the differences between NXT and WWE in regard to on-air and match time. Brie stated that there's little motivation for NXT women to be brought up into the WWE, given the lack of combat time.

 

Womens Championship History and Matches

After the SuperBowl, the #LikeAGirl trend started running rampant on social media, so much so that the WWE got behind it and made its own #LikeAGirl video featuring NXT women. These women aren't “Mean Girls.” They are role models to young ladies. Looking back at famous and infamous women wrestlers, it's hard to imagine the group not cringing at what is being done to the current WWE Divas. Lita and Trish headlined RAW. They fought in a steel cage. Melina and Mickie James had a hardcore match, as did Lita and Jazz. These women created a strong, independent and respectable feel for the division. They fought in extreme rules matches with chairs, tables and Molly Holly even had her head shaved.

While some may argue that the fighters are sexualized – given certain storylines and ring attire – their Candice,Victoria and Beth Phoenix didn't suffer life-altering injuries for the division to get 30 seconds. Chyna took on X Pac and Ken Shamrock during her time. You cannot tell me that the women's division is dead – it just needs air time and decent, non-cliche stories. The Divas sell merchandise and put on a show. Let them live.

artfully-crafted, physical battles show that they mean business. Lita didn't break her neck to have the divas get 30 seconds. Paige didn't work literally her entire life toward a dream of being shoved aside publicly and given 30 seconds.

 

Damage Control

By the end of the trend's prime, it had become the number one topic discussed on Facebook, it accumulated more than 600 Instagram photos and even harbored attention from Tumblr. After the Roman Reigns fiasco, the WWE Universe responded and the WWE listened. They pay attention to what the fans say, so it will be interesting to see how the company and its creative team reacts to the outrage. There were allegations of sexism against Vince McMahon. The term “Glass Ceiling” was tossed around a few times throughout the night. These are certainly not good mark for a business that marches to a mantra of “equality.”

Will AJ Lee return and make a splash? Will we see some of the more physical NXT women come up and join Paige in the “Diva of Tomorrow/Anti-Diva” movement? The next stages – especially leading up to WrestleMania 31 – are both nerve-racking and exciting. The fans want to see more out of this league – and hopefully the WWE delivers.

 

WWE Social Media History

Since 2010, the WWE has owned social media, making great advances via Instagram, Twitter, Facebook and their own World Wrestling Entertainment app. This has allowed the company to collect both qualitative and quantitative data regarding its performance – especially since the launch of the WWE Network this past year.

However, the WWE has seen its fair share of other PR nightmares. After the RoyalRumble pay-per-view, #CancelTheWWENetwork was the number one trend all the way up until midday the following Monday. This hashtag also found its way to the trends list more recently after WWE Fast Lane.

Why WWE's Paige is Best for Business

 Diva is destined to continue creating history for World Wrestling Entertainment

By Stephan Reed

The Anti-Diva, the Scream Queen, the Raven-Haired, Ivory-Skinned Scrapper – however you know her, Saraya-Jade Bevis is set to climb the ranks and reclaim fame as the WWE Diva's champion. Best known by her in-ring alias Paige, the Norwich, England native has the skills and marketability to thrive as a part of World Wrestling Entertainment for a good time to come. If history tells us anything, her peacock-like personality and addicting on-screen presence will be one fans and producers will long to keep around.

Her Background

Paige started fighting at the age of 13 and was born into a family experienced in wrestling. Her mother, Julia, and father, Ricky, saw the future for their daughter and believed condoning her entering the ring would amount to something great. While most 13-year old girls worry about which boy they want to take to the school dance, she was busy training to beat up girls twice her age.

Her in-ring experience, which will be highlighted in-depth later, speaks volumes to her accomplishments. One thing she has done is capture the interest of the entire wrestling community. She has developed a reputation of being an actual fighter. During her time in NXT, she could be seen grappling, kicking and elbowing. She's scrappy. She's exciting. When watching her compete, it's not like you're watching a separate entity that is the Diva's Division – you're just watching a talented superstar.

While some signature move sets can get boring and cliché (see John Cena's Five Moves of Doom),

others can capture the adrenal glands of a nation. For example, The Rock's People's Elbow build up, the Spinaroonie and the Undertaker's finger across the throat/eyes rolled back number. With the exception of Trish Stratus' finger point, AJ Lee's skip and Lita's Hardy Boyz salute, no diva has created something traditional and beloved like this, but Paige is on that track. Her entrance scream, “This is my house,” the out-of-the-ring knees to the chest, shocking boots to the face and that seductive crawl that leads to multiple headbutts (symbolizing her aesthetic appeal and competitive tenacity) are all moves that are distinctly "Paige."

Fans can call out the Ram-Paige, or the PTO or the Paige Turner. She has three finishers with flair, one of them is an intricate submission hold that displays a tremendous amount of strength and balance. She's not just another pretty face. She's a pretty face on one Hell of a fighter. While she hasn't fallen into the right gimmick yet, her in-ring skill has not diminished – it's only getting better. My hope is that the WWE gives her full reign to tear through the Diva's Division – like she did in NXT.

Investment and Commitment

Paige's career on the main WWE roster kicked off in the best possible way – she defeated the seemingly unstoppable force that is AJ Lee after a 295-day title run. While fans were growing bored with Lee's stale tenure as champ, Paige arrived with a pop and a bang as she hit her slightly unrefined finisher and made history as the youngest WWE Diva champion at the age of 21. She lost the title, gained it back and lost it again since, as she continues her pursuit to don the pink-winged belt once again.

But before this, she spent a great deal of time in WWE development leagues. Superstars don't get to up and enter the ring. No. They work their way up, climbing from the bottom up. Failing at her first tryout, Paige fought forward and landed a FCW contract in 2011. Wading through some mis-hitting gimmicks and sticking it out, she eventually built herself up, as the FCW became the now-popular NXT.

Quickly becoming a fan favourite, the Anti-Diva continued to kick the crap out of this Diva's Division. When her signature raven cry played over the stadium speakers, crowds erupted. This was their Diva's champion. Only one problem – there was no NXT Diva's championship. That is until after a hard fought tournament which eventually pit Paige and real-life friend Emma against each other. Paige defeated her opposition, becoming the first ever NXT Diva's champion – kind of a big deal, especially since Triple H was on hand to congratulate the winner.

Paige successfully held the title against any and all competition for more than 300 days until the higher ups at the WWE forced her to vacate the title because she couldn't carry two titles at once. It wasn't fair. She was too good. She had both titles. That's saying a little bit of something.

The WWE gave Paige a chance and she excelled. But it was more than a chance – a shot at temporary fame. They gave her an opportunity to make her mark on wrestling history. And she did just that. She has built herself up – and the WWE has done their part – so much that seeing her fall, now, seems completely impossible.

She's Different

If there's one thing World Wrestling Entertainment likes more than a talented fighter, it's a superstar with super marketability. If they can create buzz, their success can easily follow. Paige is not only a great grappler, but also a character that sells itself. She's not like the rest. She yells. She screams. She's brutal. People Love that she has shaken up the Diva's Division – they just get tired when they see talented athletes get sent through some bad story lines and their skill gets shadowed. When Paige won the Diva's Championship for the first time … that moment still gives me chills. The crowd was so into it. The WWE struck gold.

One great thing they, the company, have done is let Paige be her 22-year old self on social media. Her

personality spills over from TV into the Internet. It's social media marketing genius. If your favourite celebrity is retweeting pics of you wearing their branded clothing and accessories, you're much more inclined to buy something. It's an invaluable added value. If Paige were to “like” my Instagram post, I would likely cry and fanboy all over the place. That's marketing. She can do things that are free – from her phone – that make people spend money. Her Twitter and Instagram (and sometimes Snapchat) presence is done flawlessly.

Another historically proven characteristic that works in the WWE Diva's Division is “craziness.” Look no further than AJ Lee, Mickie James and Victoria (among others) for proof. Paige has this natural menacing charm that fans – and myself – cannot get enough of. It's like the manic pixie dream girl, but unhinged. It's a perfect combination for a crowd of people liking a flashy and violent sport. The young diva has also improved tenfold on the mic. Whereas she used to only prove herself in the ring, she can now perform with her voice. Her accent is lovely and, once again, sets her apart from any other. It's a signature of hers. And the tone in her content – witty, annoyed, boastful remarks – adds to her likeliness. She plays with announcers and interviewers. She's fun and fierce. What more could the WWE ask for?

And finally, it comes down to how much Paige wants this stardom. She took the gamble, at an early age, and sacrificed teen years to get where she is now. However, she's enjoying it. She's embracing it. Her social posts boasts her having a great time with the other divas. And that's just it – she Loves it and she's willing to do whatever it takes, including joining the cast of Total Divas to ensure more face time with the world.

Paige displays raw emotion in and out of the ring. When she won the championship, those were real

tears. When she lost it, that was true rage. When she won the first ever NXT Diva's Championship, she celebrated with same girls she just beat the crap out of. When she defended the title against Natalya and knew she was headed to the WWE, she thanked the veteran diva for the opportunity. She hugged her and showed deep appreciation for someone who has already been through it all.

That's heart. It's more than just prestige – it's passion. It's Love for the business, the lights, the fans, the dream, the crowds' pop when her theme hits, the stage, the sport – the everything.

Paige wants it, so she will get it.

Live the Life Bob Ross Would Want to Paint

Click the pic for "Blank Space" by the wonderful T Swift.

The world is a blank slate and we've all got pencils.

Some let theirs get dull. Some keep theirs sharp. But there's more to this life than dark sketches and negative space. There's more out there than merely variations of eraser skids and gray.

There's colour. There's texture. There's shadow, depth - and everything has a reflection. Our recollection of what beauty looks like can be transposed onto the canvas of our futures. 

What do we value? What hues look best to you? Is it limelight, moonlight or natural light? Is it infrared, incandescent or sunshine?

Paint a picture. Create an album. See the world that you want to see. It's beautiful out there. Don't let the hazy daze and blank phase get in the way of your crazy ways. Each stroke of your imagination, set to color, is a breath of fresh air.

And I want to breathe it in.

I long to live in it. Basque in the glory of the faded, but still vibrant saturation that you bring to the coloring table. We get to be children again, but we don't have to paint between the lines. We can still dance, but now we know how to keep time. And align ourselves with the masses or break off and do our own thing. Place your hand in mine and let the music begin.

We've changed pace. From artistic space to an even more creativity-harboring place. I hope you can relate. I hope you don't act your age. I pray and beg and plead that you still hold onto that youthful embrace.

Because what do we lose as the years pass us by? Not wonder, nor life, but only time. With a focus on the future and an eye on tomorrow, we forget how to live and forget how to grow. There's money in our pockets and jewelry on our fingers, but what lingers is the longing for an existence when we were merely beginners.

I know that we're happy. I know we're complacent. I know we both complain, but our lives are halfway decent. But they can be better. They can be so much more. With an inkling toward adventure we can continue to explore.

The world is ours. We've been told that since we were kids. Each brush stroke we have made has brought us to this very portrait in which we live. But what can make it better? What happy accidents can be made? What mistakes can we partake in that help us grow along the way?

Follow your hand and see where your pencil takes you. Does it lead you to the paper or toward something new? Don't be afraid to lift the lead up, don't fear falling in Love. You have the basic foundations and features drawn, now it's time to paint an endless skyline above.

I can be a constellation in your horizon. And you can be my mesmerizing, ever-consistent sunrise. Either way we end up painting the portrait of our lives, all will look just right.

There's no wrong way to do this, no pattern to follow or fail. And when my painting is done, it will be labeled "not for sale."

Because when you put your all into something, every last effort is left behind. And as my vision starts to go, I'll always remember the time. The hours wasted away, working with variations and adding something new. But most of all, I'll never forget the time I spent painting this masterpiece with you.

The Sunday Weirds: Commuter Contemplation

I have an insatiable wanderlust. I can't stay in one spot for too long or I get restless and upset.

In fact, throughout the past eight months, staying home for an entire weekend has been a foreign and scary concept. Had I not had a complete night out planned in the great 614, I would travel upwards of 125 miles – in any direction – just to be around a large group of people.

While this statistic thoroughly backs up my theory of me being an extrovert, I'm finding that the time spent driving home on Sunday afternoons is just as valuable as the entire weekend spent interacting, communicating and distracting myself from the reality that I concentrate on so much.

My most recent purchase for the drive home was the soundtrack to "Thirteen." If you haven't watched it, you've failed your inner angsty teenager. Get on that!

I dwell on the fact that I have the dreaded two-hour drive ahead of me. I do all in my power to make it comfortable and convenient. I switch out of my plaid button down and skinny jeans for a t-shirt and gym shorts. I pop in a new CD to create new memories to or an old one to reminisce.

But after a few miles in, I start to think.

And I start to contemplate. I start to envision. I think about what I just did and wonder if it's making me truly happy or not.

The drive home suddenly shifts from this concrete, terrible inconvenience to a sort of life planning session with the occasional existential breakdown and shedding of tears.

I take time out to think about Loved ones and Loves lost. I think about who I want to keep in my life and who deserves a little less energy. Who is toxic and who is treasure? 

If you're reading this, you've probably received a really nice text message, phone call or Snapchat from me as a result of this Sunday drive.

I look at the upcoming work week. How can I improve? In what ways can I make this business more money and how can I feel even more satisfied with my career? What are the next moves? I break out of my party hard mentality and see myself as a professional with a vision for the future.

I think of the garbage I put in my body the weekend preceding. Granted, I never really go over the top, but it gives me the motivation to eat and drink healthier for the upcoming week. My workout regimen gets a thorough inspection as I think of how I can make the most of that time.

The best long drives home result in songs and poems. Inspiration can come out of nowhere. Either a passing thought or a misheard lyric heard while scanning through local radio stations that barely come in can trigger something beautiful. Against my better judgment, I type behind the wheel. After 100 or so miles, I have something I didn't have before and I feel much more fulfilled.

I've heard this time of contemplation and concentration referred to as “The Sunday Weirds,” which is quite fitting. It's a step back from reality - actually both realities you encounter on a weekly basis. It's a sense of meditation brought forth by staring at the same lines in the center of road that you've seen countless times. I definitely feel weird.

Since I was a youngin, I recall experiencing this sort of numbness phenomenon on Sunday nights. School was the next day. I was stuck with family. Many times, I was in the car, on long drives with them. Only fitting that the feeling is still with me today.

The next time you have a seemingly infinite drive ahead of you, make the most of it. If you can't get a passenger to ride shotgun and talk about life, become your own passenger. When you get out of your car, do so with a sense of purpose. You're back home and you're going to do something great this week. 

And you're going to live.

You're going to transcend normalcy, be productive, end the week right and drive back once again; this time, as a better, more complete human being.

Is Midnight Yesterday or Today?

They say your teenage years are the most despairing and confusing times of your life, but I beg to differ - this liminal post-graduation/settling into a career phase has been a toughy.

I must confess, within this past year, I practically existed as a full-time professional and a part-time 5th year senior in college. I've worked 40-plus hour weeks, worked out four days a week and still found time to go crazy on the weekends.

It's time to let go of some things.

But I'm starting to notice the awkwardness that comes with being 23. Am I supposed to slow down? Am I supposed to start thinking about marriage? What age am I supposed to have kids? Do I even want kids? Will I ever have to stop?

I saw a meme today (and a thousand times before) that said "I'm at the point in my life where half my friends are getting married and having kids, while the others are too drunk to find their phones." As much as I hate regurgitated Internet posts, that one still hits home. I watch Snapchat stories and see people in their 20s doing absolutely nothing with their lives, granted that could simply be the facets they want to share with the community, but still. It's depressing.

I'm having fun, yes, but the party seems to be dying down; at least the habitual party scene. Friends are settling, while I'm still ready to go.

It sucks being the last one awake.

It sucks hearing "no" after "YOLO" was the mantra to live by. For four years (and little of a fifth), I lived without boundaries, barriers or curfews, but now I have to limit what I do, if not for me, then for my friends. They've got their own lives. They have to be up at 8 a.m. for work on the weekend while I lay on a couch, shaking off the night before, remembering the life I used to have.

My body has been giving me signals that it's either time to grow up or I've simply stop going so hard. I can't sleep past 8:30 a.m. on the weekends. The day after recovery time has increased. I panic about projects for work at 1 a.m. on a Friday night.

I've talked about my "Yes Man" phase and philosophy that gave me the greatest changes in my life, but now I'm heading into a second round of changes. Unfortunately, I don't know what those are yet. I don't have a movie to guide me this time. It will likely entail a stronger focus on fitness, new cultural adventures, more creative aspirations and a decline in travel time. (It's worth noting that for the past three or four months I haven't stayed within the same 100-mile radius for more than five days.)

I don't want to become that quintessential frat boy who can't let go of his glory days. I saw too many 29-year old men trying to party like they were 21 this weekend and it was just embarrassing. However, I don't plan on stopping my antics with my friends. That will never stop. Some of our destruction could be construed as creativity.

And that's what's lacking in my life right now. Creativity. My emotions are manifesting as actions and that doesn't make me happy. I need to go back to capturing my anger/sadness/frustration/jealousy/confusion into something constructive, maybe a song that will last forever and not a dramatic text or tweet that lasts but a second and makes me look like a jackass.

Too young to say no; too arrogant to hear it either.

This is growing up. I've come along way from the angst-filled, drama queen everyone came to know and hate my freshman year. But it's time to cut the passive-aggressive behavior, be more direct and, dare I say it, settle down - not in the sense that I have to stop having fun, but in the sense that I have to concentrate my mind on the hierarchy of things that actually matter.

I'm in need of a life personnel change. I've built a beautiful friend group, but there are some characters that cause more chaos than they do good. There is a never ending fountain of people in this world, why settle on someone who doesn't embody the characteristics you wish to surround yourself with? Why try and make someone appreciate you when they forget who you are a week later? Be with the people who appreciated you completely.

This is my quarter-life crisis

This is me fearing alone time on a weekend. This is me fearing that it was all a dream. This is me fearing letting go of something I built part of my pride upon.

Or maybe this is me devoting my time to becoming a more well-rounded person. Or me falling in Love with new conversations with wonderful people opposed to trying to hold onto the past. Or me preserving and chiseling my body and my name into something that will last a longer time.

Here's to walking through the doorway between two rooms - one full of memories, bad blood and questionable decisions - and into a new room - full of new melodies, deeper conversations and questionable decisions.

Never Had A Home

It's worth noting that this isn't exactly how I feel. The majority of it is just words. I wrote it while sitting at my desk, freezing. So, to set the mood right, get as cold as you can (to the point of shivering) and read through, but whisper the italic parts to yourself.

Never Had A Home
Nothing left to say, no words left to believe;
It's hard to have a dream when you cannot fall asleep.
The lights don't know my thoughts, the streets can't feel my pain,
These strangers couldn't care less to ever learn my name.

A new edge of the world, a fresh new frontier.
Staring down my father's gun, I think I like the view from here.
Darkened by my thoughts, motivated by my spirit,
I'd tell my sob story again but no one wants to hear it.

I'm a nuisance, I'm pathetic.
I'm beaten down by the world because I let it.
Pre-cursing thoughts are the mist;
God, I hope the lightning missed.

I could feel it through my skull, a bullet for it all,
Thunder in my sky littering thoughts against the wall.
I'm not myself; no I'm someone else,
A person that I hate, numbness I've never felt.

There's no light behind these eyes, a handful of people I despise.
Just a shallow human shell with a half smile disguise.
An ego-centric sickness, as God as my witness,
I would steal to take the "lie" from my life.

A ring of mistrust, three years of misdeeds,
You would think you're crazy if you ever thought like me.
Back and forth with the mind games, just want to you feel the same way;
Steering everything I do just to drive you insane.

A thousand thoughts a minute, half of them with her in it.
The other 50 percent, the world I've left unfinished.
A family left abandoned; three hearts left unmended.
You wonder why I can't trust, it was the way my life was handed.

Down through different people, all with different motives,
By the time I was 10 my sense of belonging was so corroded.
I felt a sense of pride, knowing I made a life on my own,
Only to find that I never had a home.

All I had were a few good times, at the expense of all the others,
I lost my sense of empathy and I lost God damn my mother.
Drink just to feel numb, unfaithfully fuck to feel alive;
Taking a lot more than I could ever need just to survive.

Another bottle down, another broken heart.
What's destroying a relationship when I never cared from the start?
I'm a monster in my own mind, a demon by design.
I would burn every bridge around me if it would keep me warm tonight.

I'm dramatic, I'm an addict;
Not to pills, but to substance.
Nothing you can buy, nothing you can steal,
But something free to feel.
Fueled by the desire to feel Loved, a chance just to belong,
I know I look alright, but that assumption is wrong.

Nothing left to say, no words left to believe;
It's hard to have a dream when you cannot fall asleep.
Just want to know I caused a wave, know I sparked a fire.
Because sending chills down your spine is what keeps me inspired.

Neglect Heals All Wounds

You know that feeling you get where you're absolutely sick to your stomach when you think of someone? Just the image of their face in your mind makes you want to throw up.

But the problem is ... it's nothing they did. It's what you did to them. It's how you mistreated them when you thought they would be there forever. And now they're gone. And you loathe them, but in reality, you hate yourself but they act as a placeholder, the manifestation of your undeniable and relentless guilt. It's easier to hate someone you don't have to see everyday than it is to hate the person you see in the mirror.

Time for my winter anthem.

 Well, it's starting to get cold outside and the days are growing shorter. The world is at a loss for colour. I guess it's about time I pretend to be socially awkward and use the Internet to comfort myself. Hang in there with me. My almost-impossibly positive view of the world will be back soon. My life is fantastic. I just want to feel passionate for a moment.

I'm a man of extremes. If you know me, it's easy to see. The way I workout. The things I eat and drink. The music I listen to. Hell, the way walk upstairs could be construed as extreme. So, it's no surprise that my interpersonal fights are crazy and my reconciliations are just as ridiculous.

I live for passion. Not just romantic, either. I need it in many different realms. I've even contemplated asking my girlfriend to pick a fight with me about something so I could say I'm sorry in beautiful ways. I need those ups and downs. Call it me being a sociopath. Blame it on my past. It's what I thrive on.

But there are certain situations in which extremes don't work, and I've found myself in one. Everything we do is a lesson, but much like school, you may not learn what you were supposed to until the final exam is over.

Right now, I'm taking the test and I don't know the answer. In fact, the way I deal with it is to turn the paper over, leave it blank and act as if though it never existed. 

However, I've learned something along the way.

We need to tell the people we Love that we Love them. It's so simple. So easy and we overlook it. It's so overlooked that people may respond in an awkward manner. Don't let it be awkward. You care about someone deeply. You have their back. You're hurt if they're hurt. You Love them.

I Love you.

You never know when that simple phrase will hit a person. Or when that phrase will miss a person. There's a friend out there right now that I care for deeply, but I can't say I Love them. I can't. I can't bear the shame for how I've treated them. My actions have reflected something other than Love. My actions were a lie. They were a mistake.

Would I take it back? No. Because it's caused me to learn. 

While I'll more than likely fail this exam, I've learned for next time. I've reached out to a few people already. People I Love. People who should hear it. Sometimes it's hard to separate Love from romance, but the two can be mutually exclusive.

Because you're no longer here with me, I have to say that I Love you. My actions didn't reflect Love, but my intentions did. I never meant to hurt you. I never meant to ignore you. I never meant to have you leave my life. My apologies for my extreme behavior. It's just who I am and I'm working on it. 

Nothing would be better than speaking these words to someone you lost. Maybe after a few drinks so you can really let your emotions loose. So you can say what you truly want without shame. Face-to-face. Not behind a cell phone or a laptop. Not in a letter. Through true-to-life words. Spoken on your bedroom floor behind closed doors.

Words that can bring a tear of both pain and happiness at the same time.  

Go out and tell someone you Love them. For all those who lost their chance. 

I Love you, friend. 

 <3