Archive for July, 2018

I miss you.

It pisses me off because this should be done. I should be over you.

I’m not. I thought I was doing good until a song came on that reminded me of your laugh. Of being next to you.

All the legal papers on my desk soak up the tears quickly (linen and crest paper rock). My muffled sobs still seem to echo in this empty building.

I think it would be easier if you weren’t real. But you are.

Easier if you didn’t love me at all. But you did.

So much easier if I could turn off the faucet like the flooded house, but I can’t.

Easier if I could paint over the ache in my heart. But I can’t.

Easier if I didn’t know you that you were one of a kind. But I do.

Easier if you didn’t have a kid that I really like. But you do.

And I miss all of it.


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Omg it is only Tuesday.

I am not sure why I thought it was a good idea to try to do two 40hr a week jobs.

I could not remember what day it even was today.

I have two funerals this week. One very dear friend from a freak infection and one friend’s sister. Also had another friend, my age suffer a stroke. All in the span of a week.

I watch the legacies left by my friends and hope that I make a positive, loving impact like they did. If I can be half the people that they were, I think that would be a success.

It reminds me that time is short.

It is hard to funnel 80 hours of work into a meaningful schedule while still remembering to smile at the postman, ask the fedex lady about her cats, give the custodian a get well card for his mom, and remember to love with all that I have and all that I am.

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Dear God, please..

I am so lonely. I am so fucking lonely.

God, I don’t want to be lonely anymore….please…….

My heart has been through the meat grinder. There is barely anything left. I don’t want to go to bed alone every single night.

I want someone to be happy to see me at the end if the day, God please…..

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Pain is relentless.

It just does not stop. A relentless weight of loss that gets dragged behind you day after day. Your self worth directly proportional to the weight sapping the life from your body.

I would give anything. Truly anything to have made it work. For that moment of safety. That moment of being wanted by another person, of truly being enough. Because he was enough.

I didn’t give a shit that he was working towards a degree. Didn’t give a rats ass that he worked a lot. Didn’t care that he had an ex-wife. I didn’t give a fuck what he made as far as money was concerned. I didn’t care about any of those things.

I cared about the 20 min that I was in his arms just talking. I cared that time stood still when we were together. I cared that I loved him.

The pain of only being with someone for a couple hours out of six months became too painful to ignore or explain away. The very thing that had been my life preserver for this divorce, was taken away. So many things I have wanted to tell him.

I have had a lot of loss in the last 3 years. I wasn’t prepared to have lost him too.


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It doesnโ€™t go away.

Why can’t love just stop? Why does it have to be SUCH a terrorist?!??!?

You can’t turn it off. You can’t protect yourself from it, when it decides to rip you to shreds. You are addicted to that warmth and safety. Addicted to being wanted. Even if it is made up.

Women have a unique ability to overlook a lot and not even blink. I don’t think men realize how much we are willing to put up with just to be ‘her’. As a cop’s spouse, there were many missed holidays, cold dinners, plans destroyed, sleepless nights, in the name of the badge. The badge was the other woman. Yet, I loved my husband and I knew that he loved me and he loved our kids.

I didn’t think I could ever love again but I did. More than I ever have before. And even though I willingly walked away to spare myself the continuous pain of being held at arms length, I can’t shut it off.

Why does my heart have to be such an asshole? I love and I can’t shut it off. And you know what? It blows. It doesn’t just ‘go away’.

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One day

One day, he will be there.

One day, the flowers will be for me.

One day, the guy waiting in the lobby will be my guy.

One day, the phantom buzzing of my phone will actually be a message for me and not about my kids, my crazy family or ex family, or work.

One day, the whistle across the street will be for my ass and not the barbie doll in front of me.

One day, the laugh will be because I made someone forget what life responsibilities are for 5 min.

One day, someone is going to be excited to see me.

Me. Not what I can do. Not what I can become. Not what I can provide. Just me.

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Panic again.

I have had anxiety for as long as I can remember. I learned at a young age to curb my panic attacks and hide them as much as possible.

I take medication (an antidepressant) for them. But they tend to get significantly worse when my secure place in the world is shaken.

My divorce and separation. My mother’s bad schizophrenia episodes. My children having a rough time. Being fired or changing jobs. Living arrangement changes.

I started a new job today and keeping parts of my old one. So of course rocking in a corner with panicked breathing seems like a great way to end the day. I know I am being unreasonable, I am fairly certain that I will be ok. I just can’t shake the immeasurable fear in the pit of my stomach.

So I rock on the floor. Trying to remember that it will be ok. Extremely frustrated that I cannot stop the waves of paralyzing fear and hopelessness that wash over me.

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