All of my nobodiness and all of his somebodiness collided

You held my hand in the worst of times.
You held my face in the saddest of times.
You held my keys in the best of times.
You held the wheel in the funnest of times.
You held my child in the most loving of times.
You held my toes in the sleepiest of times.
You held my body in the sexiest of times.
You held my heart in all of the times. The good. The bad. The ugly.

I’m not saying you gave up, you just never gave in to us; as much as you wanted to.
I’m not saying I gave in, I just never gave up on us; as much as I wanted to.
Of course to always be the yin and yang.
I always lacked what you were full of. Vice versa.
For your patience, kindness, and generosity I am forever grateful.
For your truth, I am forever in the dark.
For your love, I am forever in need.
For your presence, I am forever lost.
For your heart, I am forever in search.

For my sanity, I am forever all that you asked me to be.

It’s crazy how one small thing just reminds you of all. I just want to hold on to the bad, but I can’t. I worked so hard to fix my brain. All I can focus on is the good.
God damn there was so much of it.
It’s like an old reel playing. The clicking is so loud.
The you, before me, the actual you. Showing heart. Showing faith. Showing courage.
I have to watch it in a movie, because that’s where all of these things now live. Not in actuality.
You always gave more than I did. But I always fought more than you did.
You knew I needed all that you could give, and I knew you needed all of the fight in me to show that love existed in this world.
Fire and water.
So in sync. I felt your pain lifted and it lifted a lot of my own. I saw your smile, and it returned my own.
Our opinions and views were and always will be different, because they were meant to compel and compliment each other. For as two are alike, one is not needed.
The weak for the strong, interchanged as needed.

The dance between darkness and light will always remain; the stars and the moon will always need the darkness to be seen, the darkness will just not be worth having without the moon and the stars.

“Do not swear by the moon, for she changes constantly. then your love would also change.”

“For never was a story of more woe than this of Juliet and her Romeo.”

William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet

the stars.



Nobody realizes that some people expend tremendous energy merely to be normal

Well, here “we” are. The day has come, and it packed one hell of a finale. My knuckles are bruised and my tongue is bleeding. I fought as hard as I could for him. My fight started too late. The value of things lost, and other sorted themes. I know things to be true that I did my changing. I provided all of my truths, knowing the cost. I provided my bleeding heart and soul at his very door step, as he asked. I found forgiveness in me for him, things I didn’t think that I would ever be able to forgive. I exposed to all of you that he was all that I wanted, no matter the damage done. Most all of you accepted it, because I think you all saw how happy we were, well me at least. I am actually blown away at the amount of acceptance from all of you, so thank you. Of course a few people would have told me I was an idiot, but these are the same people I cut out because I knew their agendas. They didn’t want me happy, they just wanted me; in whatever shape I would appear to them. We have to be weary of such people portraying as friends. They will always show their stripes in time. Learned, and not even sad about the “loss” of them. The times that I turned to them, and now looking back that their advice was full of themselves, not my best interest.
Sometimes we wait too late to fight, and sometimes people hold no forgiveness; for anyone. I knew this quality of him; I’d seen him cut people loose for less, so I knew the cost. I’ve learned to let my own forgiveness be enough for me. I tried the path he lives (Holding onto anger is like drinking poison and expecting the other person to die.) It served its purpose for a few weeks, and then I decided I needed more. I didn’t want to feel the pain, but I knew if I never felt it; I would never heal. I am, and have always been, all over the map with how I feel. It is one of the good qualities that I possess. I love with no limits; I love to the point of sheer agony. I learned that with him. I learned, as I was going to do unthinkable things just to be with him, that I had no boundaries to loving him, even if it had meant sharing him. Truth being, I always kind of shared him. With exes. with female aqaintences. with strangers. he was never just mine, so I shiver to think how much more intense the love would have been, had I ever known the feeling of him loving just me. He got to experience the feeling of me loving only him, and he can say a lot of things about me, but he knows that to be fact. I may have not always been forthcoming about things that I knew would upset him (because I hated fighting with him….and I also didn’t want him thinking badly of me) but the man was my one and only for the time that he held my face in his hands. The fear of being honest about such tiny little things, because he would think less of me…yet loading the cannon to make him hate me. Makes sense right.

I am actually at peace with it. It hurts like a mug, but I knew that I gave it my all, and I knew I wasn’t enough. We actually parted on good terms for the first time ever today, so there’s that; if nothing else. Finally it wasn’t a parting of hateful words. It was an I love you and you love me, but I can’t do this; to which I have to say ok. I don’t have a choice, as you cannot make someone love you. They will just resent you even more. I finally gave a small sacrifice to match his own and my god it hurt like hell; so I finally got to feel a small portion of all he went through to come to me. I get it, he has been beating it in my head since we met that he would never be good to me. That he would never treat me good. That other people are always going to appeal to him, more than myself. That he would never love me how I loved him. In leaving, I suppose that I have to find a shred of humor in the fact that he told me that he would do all of this to me, and I jumped in head first regardless. I told him no bad would come to him, and it did. that makes him a better person for saying that he would, it makes me an idiot for not listening, and believing that history wouldn’t repeat itself with me.

that I was worthy. that I was special. that I was the one.

I wasn’t.

so from here, we just go, and take the gloves off. I digress into my world of distraction and activities to keep me busy. I plan on shooting a lot of shit this weekend. I intended on coming back to my blog with new topics, now that this one was sealed and mailed. I plan on sticking to my religion of being good to people, and letting them be good to me. I had been absent from it for so long, that I forgot that it does bring its own good karma. You surround yourself with good, and good surrounds you right back. You feel better. You look better. You live better. You keep growing, but you fully realize that there will be days that the sun is not going to shine on you. In these days you cling to the good around you and hold on tight, because the sun will be back. ; As it worships you as you do it.

As for my little tom cat, he has landed on his feet, and we know he will be ok. Anyone who carries the amount of love that we sent with him is impossible at failing. I wear him in the form of a bird. One for every year. I always kind of knew I wasn’t enough for him to ever clip his wings.

Absentee weekend. Ive got probably the best playlist arranged. Ive got some packing to do. Ive got my camera. Heres to new memories and endings.


The public have an insatiable curiosity to know everything, except what is worth knowing.

I had no intentions on writing anything today, or the next day for that matter. I suppose there has to be this constant balance found of over flooding feelings, and impulse control. Its been a day in itself all day long, but its been ok. In the midst of my rant, it was pointed out to me that I have a lot to be happy for. To be blessed for. In this, there is so much truth, but I have just as much to be in mourning for. It is funny how the outside tries to make you feel better with the right words, and you try to listen. It will never work, because they don’t have the right words. You, yourself, do not even potentially know the right words. Fragments of different statements attempted to make me feel better, or just feel. You have a new car Melissa.
Yeah but I don’t have the map to a new place with my family at my side in it; while we search for the ultimate playlist. My favorite was when he would play a song for me, and then me him. It was communication at its finest, as music always spoke volumes to us. This back and forth got us through so many long road trips.
You have a nice house, to be your age.
I do. I am proud of that. I don’t have any laughter in it. I don’t have a lot of love in it. I have a lot of sadness in it; growing more by the day. I have walls that remind me of all we were finally starting to build his last round “home.” I have pictures that I will never hang, because I want to be out of that house as much as possible; and as fast as possible. I have a tie that lays there, that I refuse to move; because it is all I have left of him. It brings a sad amount of comfort. I have a mirror that used to be covered in love notes, that I try my damndest to not look into. I have a shower, that everytime I use it I picture his hands all over me. I picture me on my knees, or him on his. I picture an entire can of shaving cream sprayed every where. Fuck a house. I had a home.
You changed your hair, that’s a small beginning to feel better.
Yeah, I wanted change. Guess what it got me. The one person I wanted to tell me how beauitiful I looked, cant stand the image of me. I don’t have him to play with it until I fall asleep on his chest. I don’t have him to pull it and to remind me of my place in bed with him. I don’t have him making fun of what a mess it is. I don’t have him and Addison attempting to comb it.
You have lots of friends.
No, I have a lot of people who mean well, but I have one friend who I give a shit about. I have one person that I cant wait to call and tell them my good/bad news. I have a lot of people in my life with agendas. People who just want gossip on me, or people who are bidding their time to sleep with me. I am well aware of who is in my life and who isn’t.
I have a comfy bed, but no mind blowing sex in it. I have new perfume, but not him to smell my neck and give me chills. Every time he came near me, I was covered in chills. I have new make up, but no one to mess it up in the sheets with me. I have new dresses, but no him to rip it into shreds. I have new bras, but not him to rip it off with his teeth. I have new panties, but not him to pull them to the side in a hurry. I have new heels, but no him to smack my ass because he cant stand not to. I have new toys, but no him to send me voice messages of what I am allowed to do with them. I don’t have bruises. I don’t have shaking legs. I walk around in my state, day dreaming off to what all I don’t have.
So fuck what I have. I want to fuck what I don’t have.

You have your way. I have my way. As for the right way, the correct way, and the only way, it does not exist”

For out of all of the ashes, we live. We are someone besides our own self, but we live none the less. We come out tarnished, bruised, scarred; but alive. I am starting to get accustomed to living in black and white again. In fact, most of my life was lived in such a manner, and it was fine. It was fine because I knew no different. Everything was a fair medium of bland and ok. No real highs, but no real lows. So I suppose that it would be rational to appreciate that living in black and white might better than living in a world with no variations in hues. I have never been called rational though. Maybe that’s the appeal to me though. Maybe the one thing that people grow to love in turns out to be the very thing that haves them disregard all of my being. I have reflected on a lot. I have looked back on all of the things that my time in living color provided me with. All that I must be thankful for. They say goodbyes are bitter sweet; I’m going to hold on to the part that keeps me moving along; so here goes the sweet.

I was never able to travel much. Well, maybe able is not correct; I was able, I just never did. I never did, because I never had. He brought so much of that to me, and to Addison. I have been more places this year than I have been in my life, and I could not be more thankful for him showing me what a great thing it is that we all need in our lives. This is something that I have done without him, and will continue to do so. Sad part being wherever I went, my first instinct was to send him a picture; or to tell him about it. It robbed a little bit of the joy from the trips to not have him to share it with. I am going to hope that feeling passes in future travels.

I used to be very active and in shape. I worked out five hours a day; and then I had Addison. For many reasons, I stopped. I picked up drinking to feel sorry for me, and gave up on taking care of me. He reminded me how beauty still lived in me, and he helped me find it. I, through much anxiety, got back in the gym on a regular basis, and will continue with the habits that he instilled in me; and gave me the courage to do so. He was always so very supportive. Telling me how good I was doing. Keeping up with my progress, but most importantly; calming me in my frustration. I remember having a panic attack at the gym one day. He didn’t get mad. He calmly got me to the truck and just sat and talked to me while I apologized through tears. I hated him seeing the weak side of me. Hated it.

He taught me how to be a mom, and showed me what a good dad is; and assured me that someone will accept Addison how she is and love her to no end. He brought her through more progress in 6 months, than I had been able to do in 5 years. I think she wanted so hard to impress him (I know the feeling) she tried her hardest every single day to not let him down. She would just talk and talk. She doesn’t do that anymore. I think the best feeling I have ever felt in my life was the sound she would make the second she heard his keys in the door. There’s beauty in a child. Pure enthusiasm to see him, like her entire day revolved around that very moment. Truth is, I felt the same when he came home. A lot of times (more so than not) I would run down to greet him. Some days I didn’t, like I didn’t want him to know that my day revolved around that very second. Stupid. Fucking. Pride.

He restored order in our home. I had just not given a fuck for so long. Everything was a mess, and I know it took a toll on him. I did what I could, but everything was so far gone for me to have it all pristine for him in just a few months. He brought joy and laughter into a home that had been a house since the day I bought it. He brought in good meals. He brought in color. He brought in good family memories. Most of all he brought in the piece that missing to make it a home, a place, a temple, a place to worship all that we had in those walls. Maybe we should have done a lot more of that. Well not maybe; we should have. Less phones. Less TVs. I can’t say that there was a lack of love. There was too much of things that should have been absent, but I can’t say that there should have been more love. That part we had down.

He told me love is not enough.

I can’t say that I will ever agree with that.

Love is enough, when fear is lessened.

For all of these things, and so many that I cannot list, I am grateful to him. I have so many vacation photos to look at to remind me that I am capable of loving and laughing; but more importantly that Addison has a side that I have never seen, and I hope that she is fortunate enough to have that again. I know not what to do to fuck it up this time.

I appreciate everyone’s words. I really do. You all have seen me fight. Playing a game of steering me to him, when he knew he would turn me down might have been the ultimate betrayal. Of all that he ever did to me (and me him) that might have been the cruelest on his end. Waving all I wanted in front of my face and telling me to go fight for it and to make him see. All the while laughing because he knew I would come, and he knew he would have the power to laugh in my face and tell me no.

“There is not enough love and goodness in the world to permit giving any of it away to imaginary beings.”

Friedrich Nietzsche




And suddenly she knew it was going to be ok

A good nights rest full of closure. A “hitting the hay” nap. A sore body. A healing heart. A happy brain. I couldn’t have done it without my amazing support system. Thank you all for holding my hand as I step away from the ashes of what all I leave behind. I was taunted. I was toyed with. I was lied to. I believed in all of it. I wanted all of it that bad that I was willing to have faith in it. All faith of my past is stripped of me and I now have answers to give addison. It’s not going to be the answer she wants, God I wish it was. It’s not the answer I had cut my knees praying on; but it’s finally an answer. The what ifs are now solid. The how’s are now answered. The wheels started turning long before I decided to hop onto the train, but life stops for no one, and it doesn’t care if you are heartbroken and defeated. You can’t miss the train. Life continues in this positive motion. I hate he didn’t want to see the changes in me because he was so blinded by who I was (and I can not fault him for that) I chose to see him as he was. The good parts. I focused on all of that, and he showed me his deceiving side yet again. I’ll never be good enough for him to feel as if he can be honest with me. That’s never going to change, and I accept it. For when we can’t be honest with someone, we don’t love them or care enough to be honest. We don’t open up to them, because we just don’t care to. I’ll never make the mistakes I made in this last year again, I had only hoped that I could have made my beginning with him and our family. Start it the way it was to have started so many years ago. I may always be that child chasing after that black Camaro. What hasn’t changed, is that all he will ever show me will be tail lights. So this time I wave, and I pray for peace in him as I have found. I had to find it without you my baby. God how you heal me, and we had a fair shot. There’s no amount of miles I would not have drove, the drive would have been a high; knowing that you would be greeting me on arrival with that look of pure love in your eyes. Your hand on the small of my back as you enveloped me with the purest love that ever existed. You rob all of us of that, and I am finally ok with it. You are my moon and my stars and the sky would have always been our limit, and people will continue to be amazed at the energy and Fire that we had in us.
Every ending is a beginning, we just didn’t want to see it to be true. I see now. And I thank you. Above all else, God how I thank you.


There is no beauty in sadness. No honor in suffering. No growth in fear. No relief in hate. It’s just a waste of perfectly good happiness.

I have to say, that at this point in my life, I am so confused as to the difference of fear, heartbreak, sadness, and remorse. Maybe because I slammed myself and others with this feeling, simultaneously, that it’s hard to differentiate them. Maybe they all feel the same. I have been through break ups. I have been sad. It is clear to me, that I had yet to be heartbroken. I thought maybe I had, until I actually was. I was sad before. I was in a sense of mourning, but not heartbroken. It is exactly that. Your heart physically hurts. You sometimes even wonder whether or not you will actually wake from the extreme pain of it. It hurts in every cell of your body. That’s a heartbreak, and god how it hit me. Even in the times that I numbed it, I still felt it. I would just simply pass out with the pain; only to awake not enough hours later with a matching headache. There is not enough sleep medicine to make you sleep through it. There are not enough days to make it through. There is damn sure not enough pride to hide the shame you feel. You just don’t care if people see you that way, because you can’t help it. We can all parade around with a big cocky smile, but one song will put you in your place, very quickly; and you better be around people who give a shit when that happens. In my criminal minds marathon. (I don’t get into the details) but one lady had gone through a lot. All of the agents were shocked as she was acting like everything was ok. Like nothing had happened. She was so well adjusted, to the naked eye. Her boss sat her down and said he only asked one thing of her. “You are ok today. You might be ok tomorrow, but there is going to come a day that the air is wrong, and you will not be ok when it is. I want you to tell me when that day comes. “She did. It was one small thing that knocked her on her ass. She then replied that today was a bad day. You can be fine, until your body and mind remind you that you are not. In that moment, you can’t fool yourself, much less the strangers around you; so you retreat. In retreating you turn to your thoughts. Your thoughts that aren’t fully evolved (because you have been avoiding them) you then grow with more anger. More resentment. More pain. You go to bed, and begin the cycle again. I am sure that there are many ways out. I chose the out of breaking the cycle. By being around others when I least want to be. Mind you I have been horrible company, but my friends know that I will pay them back with the best of me when I get back to being the best. I’ve chose to get up and think about something else instead of wallowing. I’ve chose to look, actually look, at a different approach. For most of the time, this works. Of course this doesn’t always work to my favor, as I am not perfect, and in those times; I write. My point is this, thoughts can be powerful, but thoughts can also be poison. It’s very important to process them properly; but it’s also important to feel them. We give power to things so it’s essential to give them power, but not to fuel them to the point of destructing ourselves.

It’s encouraged, and applauded to be free thinkers. The failure in this is that so many people want to tell us how to feel, or how to think. People life to have some sort of impact on our thought process, mostly out of a controlling perspective, and partly over them not wanting to make their own decisions. Having good friends is essential to growth. Being a good friend to you is crucial. Only we can decide what’s right for our lives. I say this, mainly, because only we know is. In previous blogs I went over how we only tell people what we feel comfortable telling them. We never tell our friends or family the whole story. Making their advice a good sounding board, but it’s up to us to figure into the formula what their thoughts would be given the factual not the actual of what they are given. Anyways, word press has been screwy today, so that’s my writing for today. Be blessed in all you do.

“And one has to understand that braveness is not the absence of fear but rather the strength to keep on going forward despite the fear.”
Paulo Coelho

This is your life and it’s ending one moment at a time

I can’t believe I am such a fool for love and madness and sadness and hurt. Of course I will always say yes. I finally was at the brink that I could almost feel your breath on me, and you slammed a door in my face. Your words have hung over me; “knowledge is power,” it is an an exacty quality of yourself. You didn’t want me with you. You didn’t want to see me. You didn’t want to love me. Or touch me. Or feel me. You wanted me to think that you did so that I would open up more wounds to you. To give you knowledge. In turn to give you power and control to say what you wanted to me. You don’t get to say what you want because you assume I’ll forgive. You just don’t get to. You don’t get to wave yourself and our life in front of me like a cat toy, only to lead me from room to room; knowing that you’re going to give it to the dog. You only get to love me. Respect me. Honor me. Build me. Treasure me. You don’t get to keep making me pay. My god I pay every day. I pay every second that my eyes are awake and puddles. I pay every time I start my car and you’re not in it. I pay every morning that I roll over and you are not there. I pay every second addison says your name and I have no answer. I pay every single fucking second of every single fucking day. That’s not enough. You want me to pay more. You want this false hope to live in me that you would ever love me. That you would ever grace my life with you. You know I believe in our fairy tale more than anything and you used it against me again. And I let you. I will always be so stupid to think that I am enough for you. I never was. I never will be. It’s processing this information that is the true task. It processing how someone can say they love someone while holding their fingers crossed behind their back. Just for the sheer power and control over someone who is already powerless. Someone who already cut themselves open and threw themselves to the wolves like asked. What’s enough. I’m not. What is?

Sorry for my rant. I needed a healthy way to do it without sending it to him. Enjoy your Sunday all and be blessed with all that God blessed you to wake up with this very day.
I leave hope here. I leave wishes here. I leave faith here. Mostly I leave us here.

Love is a circular emotion that surrounds you, like a hug. Or a noose

we seem, so often, in life to find replacements. new shoes to feel better. new hair to look better. new cars to appear better. new clothes to seem better. new people, to just feel. we have, or I have rather, grown up in a society of where we can replace just about anything. this is a good and a bad thing. its a good thing. It has taught us to not sweat the small things in life, but it has also taught us to never latch on; because we don’t have to. something new is right around the corner, should we seek it. people lack commitment to their home, their family, their pets, their loved ones. I have been guilty of all of this. I look back and I think about my great grand father, the best man I ever knew. He had two pairs of shoes. one for the farm, one for church. he wore them until they could not be worn any longer. he didn’t replace them out of want, but out of need. he had two cars. a truck for the vegetables and farm work, and a “town” car. The car is still in our family and has less than 20k miles on it; and he bought it new. I was blessed to have him around 32 of my 35 years. these are the only cars I ever knew him to have. he would watch how many paper towels we used. or if we didn’t reuse saran wrap. every little thing, he made sure we used it until we could not use it anymore, things we so quickly went to just replace with a new one. more so getting into this, my paw paw was married twice. One marriage was to my grandmothers mom, I never got to meet her. she passed of cancer 11 years into their marriage. who I did meet, was grandmother gert. They were married for 58 years, until she passed of cancer. 58 years. I look back on his life then, and apply it to modern day society. he was left a single dad of one, at the age of 29. More so than not, people these days would not live how he did. we have two spectrums to choose from. we hate love, and we fear loss, and we curse God for our losses; or we know we will love again, we know we will lose plenty more, but its better than never having, and we trust that God will bring us something (not better, but different) to make the rest of our days happy. obviously, he chose the second option. I don’t even think he saw the other “option,” it was just natural that he put his faith into something bigger than himself; in his case, God. It worked out for him, he had 58 years very happy years with someone. lots of kids, lots of grandkids, lots of great grandkids (me), and even some great great grand kids. what a blessing to live long enough to experience such a thing.

We just leave relationships now. we see the greener grass on the other side. we don’t stay and do the work. we take the easy out, and then when that one becomes hard, we take the easy out again. it is a cycle of the eternal search. ive done it most of my life. I have most always been the one to leave. I can only think of one person who left before I did, but that was under circumstances under which he had no choice. the last one, was more of a mutual choice. although he had left before, the last round was mutual. I wanted him to go because of his actions, and he couldn’t get out fast enough to proceed in his actions. For those of you who do not know me, I have been married. I kicked him out, and I never looked back. I have a child with someone else. I kicked him out. I never looked back. Neither of these people had huge reasons for us to not work, other than the fact that I didn’t feel the fire. I felt less, when I needed to feel more. this was not a selfish gesture on my behalf, it was in fact the opposite. I knew that I did not, and would not love them, the way that they deserved. they both deserved that. everyone deserves someone who would do anything for them. I knew that I wouldn’t. I had to let go, and I don’t regret either to this day. I have only met one person (daughter aside) that I would have done anything for. one person that I felt so deep in love that it heated my bones. A lot of people never get to have that, I don’t know whether that makes me happy or sad for them. I could have went my entire life without the pain I have experienced, but my God I would not change it for the world, because of the love that I felt. It was a beautiful, uncomfortably heightening experience. If our naked eyes were able to see atoms, I would have surely seen them exploding all around us, just by being in the same room. even now, I feel the fire for him in me. I long for his touch. his smell. just his breath; slowly in pattern with my own. when we slept we would breathe at the same pattern. his heart was always beating faster than mine until I laid my head on his chest, and even our heart beats would sync up. he was always cold. I was always warm. his head fit perfectly on top of mine so that I could lay my head on his chest and hear his heart as I traced his heart tattoo. I find myself waking tracing a heart into my sheets, or in the sheets of where I am. even in slumber my body is reaching for him. in day, night, consciousness, and subconsciously, my body and my mind are reaching for him. I don’t know that this is something that will ever stop. I don’t know if it is even something that I want to stop. Its so hard some days to hear a song, or smell a smell that reminds me of him.  in that same token, sometimes I hear or smell something that stops me in my tracks and I remember. I remember the good. I feel the good. I am consumed by the love. I smile. I laugh. I love.

From the only man I ever respected, my paw paw, I have to follow in his foot steps. I know I will love again, I know I will lose plenty more, but its better than never having, and I trust that some higher power will bring me something (not better, but different) to make the rest of my days happy. It may be ten years from today, it may be tomorrow. Like my pawpaw, I will honor the memory of what I lost. that will be where my love lives for now. I will not seek anything, that would dishonor all that he and I ever shared. should something come to me, it does. I don’t seek better. I don’t seek different. although the angels that surround me can be demons in slight moments; I would not want to not remember him for one second. the feeling that comes over me when I think of him is not something I would ever care to get rid of. even the bad memories when they hit, the pain they invoke in me remind me of how strong I feel for him. how strong I was blessed to feel for anyone in my life. Nothing will ever compare to the feeling of that man slowly lowering me to the bed with his hand on the small of my back, the other on the back of my head. Nothing will compare to the feeling he gave me, inside and out. nothing ever will. I can hope for comparable one day. for now I am ok with the moments of  ecstasy, devotedness, weakness, adulation, and pure rapture.

“There are a hundred trillion cells in the human body,” she said. “And every single one of the cells of my body loves you. We shed cells, and grow new ones, and my new cells love you more than the old ones, which is why I love you more every day than I did the day before. It’s science. And when I die and they burn my body and I become ashes that mix with the air, and part of the ground and the trees and the stars, everyone who breathes that air or sees the flowers that grow out of the ground or looks up at the stars will remember you and love you, because I love you that much.”


A cynic is a man who knows the price of everything, and the value of nothing

We don’t get to pick the physics of our own lives. We have a little control over our location, but no control over how to feel about something, only how to react to it. Therein lays a double edged sword. We can react the way that makes us feel as if it was what we should do, for appearance sake; and let the wound eat at us. We can react the way that we want to, bearing all risk involved of being vulnerable and needing; and let appearance eat at us.

Typically people lie on one side of the fence of this, or the other. It is rare that a person has a natural shift in their life to be the other. It begs to ask, what is more important; how we feel, or how we are seen.

To break down (my version only, of course) the first scenario. You stand your ground. You say what you think is the right thing to say; for physics sake. This is the choice that makes the most sense. This is what “normal’ people would choose. Yes, it hurts like a mother fucker, but this is what I think is the right thing. Now if I could just make it one day without missing them. It will come, because this is the right thing.

“normal” people only seem normal, because we don’t know them. We know what they tell us. They can tell us, “yes I was strong; this is the choice I made.” No. You didn’t. This was the choice that you were left with because all other choices were stripped of you. No one chooses the normality when it comes to love. One of my favorite writers wrote

When love is not madness, it is not love.

Pedro Calderon de la Barca

Ah, YES! That’s more like it. You can love someone. You can be comfortable. Painless. Easy. Complacent. That is not being in love. Being in love is a whole different ball filed and game in itself. That’s what we are talking about here. I have been there. You think you’re in love, and that you’re ok happy….and then you feel the fire of what love is! You cannot unfeel that, and unfortunately boys and girls; you can’t bottle it up. Anyone who says they walked away from love, and took the “high road,” you can go ahead and assume that this person is a liar. More importantly, this person is hurt still. This person’s only saving grace of losing such a thing is that you see them as this strong individual. That society, that family, that we all see them as a strong person.

At the end of the day, when I close my eyes; how many people do I think of how they feel about me?


The two people that I have that love of fire with.

That’s it. I like for people to like me, and see me for me; but I could give two solitary fucks if they didn’t.

Scenario one, this person may or may not have respect of the people he or she seeks. They have a shred of comfort in the fact that they are seen as the person they want to be seen as. Not who they are, boys and girls.

They close their eyes and think of someone, but it is not the people that they are bent on “impressing.”

Scenario two: You say and allow yourself to feel how you feel, and you put it out there. You put your entire ego and any amount of pride that you have aside, because what does it matter. What can you take pride in, when there is not someone to share it with. Sure, you will find someone to share it with, but will you care if you light up their face when you come home? Or will you just be happy that they are there and that they like you. Do you WANT this person to know you hung their moon, or do you want this person to know that you’ll get the dishes; because hey, it’s your routine. (I personally, want this person to come find me doing the dishes, and turn the dishes into a complete different experience; I live with the fire.) You have given up your pride, but what here is different than scenario one? What is the one true differential pattern in the two?

Scenario one; you don’t have one person who knows who you really are. You risk losing who you really are, because hell, you don’t know any more either.

Scenario two: you have at least one person who knows you for you. All appearances aside. The good. The bad. The ugly. Look beside you, are they there? Yes, because they know you, and love you for all of it. Not in spite of it.

“It is better to lose your pride with someone you love rather than to lose that someone you love with your useless pride.”

― John Ruskin

Ah! YES! That’s more like it. So you’re vulnerable to one person. Other people may see you as week. Now, you, when you lay down at night to close your eyes at night, who is it that you care about what they think?

The person you exposed yourself to. Not your family, friends, or coworkers. They will continue to not know who you are, and that fire in your life. He or she doesn’t care if they know the real you. So long as they do. Will people talk about you going against the grain? Absolutely. Let me break down the physics of that. People who have nothing better to do, than to judge your actions have a void in their life that they must fill with you. The best part of this, is that people will move on, and find someone else to talk about. The worst part about this is that these people have been in love, they have made dumb mistakes. They have fixed them, and some of them have lost themselves in the meantime. Any person who doesn’t see your being vulnerable has lost that feeling of what it is to truly love, that makes them the sad one. Not you.

My favorite thing to hear during this process was this: “you two always looked so happy in your pictures.” Like WHO THE FUCK stops in a fight and is like, but first; let me talk a selfie. Rob Thomas had an interview one time. Everyone asked him why his songs were so sad. His response? When I’m happy I’m not going to be sitting in studio writing. I’m going to be out with my wife, in love, happy, and enjoying life. It’s the bad days that I write. Not the good ones. Same rules apply.

To whatever side of the fence you reside on in your life; know that both offer good and bad. It’s only up to you which is for. It’s only up to you, what you hold as a precious little fire. For me, I will burn bright until the day I die out. There is no feeling in this world compared to what I feel when I am in love with this man. As for my appearances? I won’t think of any of you when I shut my eyes. I will think of him. I will think of Addy. I will think of x. I will think of oak trees, bare feet, and lots and lots of kissing for no damn reason at all; other than being in love and it feels good.