Saturday, December 3, 2016


Saturday, November 19, 2016

You look as good as the day I met you
I forget just why I left you
I was insane

I know it breaks your heart
Moved to the city in a broke-down car
And four years, no calls
Now I'm looking pretty in a hotel bar
 

Friday, November 18, 2016

The future I've been seeing lately consists only of me and Juna. I can't see another person for miles; I can see us hiking on the weekends, visiting the local, cozy coffee shops and then walking a couple streets down to let Juna play with her friends at the dog park.

I can see sailboats, coastal waters, the smell of saltwater and the sound of seagulls calling above the small New England town. I see waking up on week days to fit in some exercise, then going to work during the day, stopping by the farmers' market on the way home, and finally preparing a pleasant dinner before settling in to relax for the evening.

I see occasional vacations to the south to see family, or the occasional visit from them as they venture up to the beautiful north to see the leaves change.

Getting away from here is all I can think about. Getting any type of decent job to save up money for grad school and to stop the constant feeling of "leechy child syndrome". It's suffocating.
There's nothing to do, nowhere to go, no place to take Juna and let her really run and have fun. I don't have any friends, and the closest one is just the Beau who's an hour away, finishing up his school, and with whom any sort of plan or dream never ever works out.

I hate the thought of letting go. I hate the thought of causing you pain, taking away your motivation or desire to succeed in life. I hate the thought of seeming like "that girl", knowing perfectly well that the second I walk out of your life and the numbness has left your head and eyes...the names and insults will start falling out of your mouth. Just like the example set by your friends and your parents.

At times I have tried to casually find out what would happen if, for some reason, I was no longer in your life. And the responses I got either worried me or disappointed me. They told me that within the two years we've been together, I still haven't done my job. I apparently haven't taught you how to take value and pride in yourself, to work and better yourself for you and no one else. Because you're not always going to have someone else around to push you and help you find your way.

I haven't taught you to find yours because I haven't yet found mine.
Maybe, years from now, we'll once again bump into each other.
And maybe years from now, things will finally have settled into a place where there's room for the rest to fall into place.

I love you so. 

Wednesday, November 2, 2016

Where has it all gone?
The excitement, the joy, the feeling of safety and comfort?
Why has it all been replaced with a single feeling of...nothingness? Not anger or frustration or sadness. It just feels empty, the time I've lately spent with you.You talk about a total of maybe three things--all of which I either have neither interest in hearing about nor desire to continue listening to because I get too much of it already from the news.

I'm bored with the things we do. They're just things. They cost money you supposedly don't have and that I don't feel worthy of spending.
I'm tired of watching the people who move around your life, within your space of living, cycle through their vain attempts to forget all their problems by means of merely creating more problems for themselves. I'm tired of watching them drink almost non-stop, complain about how tight their money is, and then go out to bars with friends nearly every night--mostly in hopes of picking up women that are far too young and far too troublesome.
I'm tired of your friends all being one and the same: broke, addicted, and looking for the wrong things in life and blaming the people around them when really...they should just blame themselves. Stop influencing him. Stop dragging him down. Stop making me resent him.

You're inconsistent, occasionally hard of hearing, talk over me, interrupt, forget thing I took as promises, skirt around the truth, hide your phone, and the you habits that you grew up and around developing all make me want to leave a solid black-and-blue hand print across your cheek.

There are moments when all I want is to yell and scream at you--tell you all the things that make me wish I never agreed to let any of this start. I want to express to you my frustration at the thought of having to live with your gigantic, controlling, and dominant dog. I want to make you understand that, even though all you think when you look at me is us "building our future", all I can manage to see is all the struggles and obstacles we're going to spend most of our free time overcoming. That I'm afraid work will become an escape for us--instead of saying goodbye to each other each morning, we'll merely be saying goodbye to the struggle.
I hate your "occasional" use of weed that all of your struggles to breathe when you run, why you hate cardio, points to a more than occasional use.
I hate that when I call you out on lying or skirting around the truth, you agree with me that it's an insult to my intelligence, but you have the fucking nerve to keep doing it.
I hate how you don't seem to hear me, and when you do, the sound stops just before hitting your brain's auditory cortex. 

I hate how you can hear, but you can't understand me--you can't understand my feelings, my political stances, my likes and dislikes, or most importantly my religious beliefs. You just listen and then sweep it all under the rug so you don't have to be a man and deal with it. 

But mostly....I hate how I can't bring myself to leave you. I can't bring myself to break your heart, to leave you when you're so close to finishing out this semester. I can't bring myself to be responsible if and when you completely fall apart, losing yourself to the everyday motion of living. 
Would it even be my fault? 
I've tried to teach you, to help you understand that life is full  of curve-balls, unexpected struggles, and obstacles that seem unconquerable. I've tried to help you learn to focus on one thing, one day and one struggle at a time. 
But....was all of that enough? Or did I fail at the one job I was given?  

There are days when I wish I had the courage to confess all of this to you, to somehow make you understand where I'm coming from and that where I want to go is so entirely different than where you want to be. If you even get there. You've talked me into so much I never wanted to do--you've taken so much of my self respect, self acceptance, and my self esteem. You've replaced it with a false sense of security, an intense distraction that I fear is slowly starting to fade into the shadow of a doubt.

Thursday, October 20, 2016


I'll find you in the morning sun
And when the night is new
I'll be looking at the moon
But I'll be seeing you

I'll be seeing you
In every lovely summer's day
In everything that's light and gay
I'll always think of you that way

Monday, October 17, 2016

Stomach Flu & Wedding Weekend

Last Wednesday evening I suddenly began to feel "off" in a sense of feeling bloated, gassy, and just overall tired/weak.
So, I took a shower with the intent of heading to bed early in hopes of it taking care of itself overnight as I slept. But, as I took an after-shower soak in the lavender bubbles, the feeling of being "off" quickly turned to "bad" and nausea soon swept over me; I spent from about 8pm to 12am making trips between being propped up in my bed to the bathroom, all for my skin to sweat chilled bullets, my hands to shake, and dry heaves to make me cough and gag. It wasn't the only stomach issue, but against my better knowledge and all warning labels, I took some Peto Bismol, hoping that my body would be strong enough to fight against the virus if only I could get some uninterrupted sleep.

And I slept. On the couch.
I took Juna outside for most of the day, until about 7pm when someone else took her out. And each time I returned from the task, I had to take a nap. I napped after using the bathroom, after making myself broth/soup and crackers, after watching TV. Sometimes even after sleeping.

The Beau came over that afternoon, even though he had just taken an awfully difficult exam and had a bunch of other homework to do. He came to keep me company and to spend time with me, even if I spent most of it myself sleeping.

The next day (Friday morning), he left early in the morning and then I stayed home once more from work because I was still too exhausted to do much--although I forced myself to do things I knew needed to be done--and too nauseous to eat much.

Later that afternoon, I drove the exhausting hour to the Beau's house where we napped, got dinner (steamed veggies and plain rice for me--something I struggled to eat), and watched an episode of Gotham before going to sleep. Where I didn't sleep well.

In the morning we woke up, got a quick breakfast and took off to pick up the rental car before heading off for the 3-hour drive to Georgia for his cousin's wedding--which was a perfect, memorable night in and of itself.
His family was nice, welcoming, and good company. And although they were just as nice and welcoming, the Michigan family I met a few months ago didn't quite give off the same vibe as the ones in Georgia. But perhaps that can be chalked up to merely the Southern Hospitality. 
It was just the two of us until we met up with some more of his family at the hotel, and then when we got back later that night (just before midnight) and went straight to bed where I--again--couldn't sleep.

We drove the 3 hours back home the next morning after meeting his family in the hotel lobby for breakfast and then (after seeing them off) returning to our room to pack our things and leave.

Then I drove the extra hour home-home afterward, where I played fetch with Juna, forced myself to eat something, and then took Juna to the enclosed tennis courts at the local elementary school to run out some of her energy.

And then, after a quickly wonderful weekend, life returned to normal.

Wednesday, October 5, 2016

The past week or so have been difficult to get through--I'm not sure if I should credit hormones or just the overall situation. I'm exhausted, at a crossroads, dealing with having to make a decision/plan out the best route for my short-term life to take, and just struggling to stay positive.

Not to mention every day this week has been some sort of stressful and/or emotionally draining.

Luckily, it's almost over.