Memory Lane

You guys, I know all of you are super stoked about Game of Thrones and what not but something monumental happened when we were sleeping- Netflix released all the seasons of House. In light of this holiday, I proceeded to watch House at 7 a.m. because my body hates sleeping and by extension my happiness.

Today was exceptionally beautiful, warm air and sweet wind swept through the city and it was the most perfect day in Houston history. All beauty aside, it's hard to acknowledge when you're still nursing a broken heart but I'm keeping my day's busy and it's helping a bit.

In the previous post I talked about my self help program and the homework I was assigned in order to achieve the results I'm seeking. I opened module 6 today and it was nestled in between "take a stark look at yourself" and "think of a fond memory of your previous relationship and try not to cry" so naturally I proceeded to read through the rest of the module and cry like a baby. Even though the tears were steady and warm I believe that as the day wore on and the words mulled though every center of my brain, progress was a'brewin.

In a brief summary the module instructed that I think about my favorite memory of my relationship with Tim. I sat and pondered, running through the list of all the things we'd done together, every detail I could conjure up, and I narrowed it down to the one. So, here we go.

Tim and I traveled to Austin earlier this year because I was participating in a wonderful event called Speed Rack; we stayed with his favorite aunt which in turn made me feel very close to him because I was beginning to understand more of what his family was like and how it made him the person he is. On our second day of vacation we woke early and traveled to Hamilton Pool, it was cool but sunny and as we arrived I felt grateful that I got to share this moment with someone so special.

We walked down the trail, examining different parts of the tributary that fed into the pool, watching small rapids, skipping rocks, looking for fish, pointing out stagnant zones in the otherwise alive river and then we we're welcomed to a place where time didn't matter and mother nature surely vacations. It was one of the most beautiful things I'd ever seen. I'd never known perfection until that very moment. We ventured under the rock face where the water poured over us but never touching our bodies, making our way around. I thought about summer, and how I was sure that we'd come back when it was warm and swim in the pool that God made just for young lovers like us. I watched Tim traverse the rocks ahead of me in shoes that didn't belong in this terrain but his feet still diligently exploring as the rest of his body followed.

This is the rock Tim slid off of

We arrived at the midpoint on the underside of the rock and then much like a Charlie Chaplin skit where he topples over, Tim lost his footing and slid down the rock beneath him. He looked like a log rolling down a hill, and as he got back to his feet with a "watch out that's really slippery" , I could only laugh.That laugh is my favorite of all the laughs we ever shared.

I sat in bed earlier, prepping for sleep, and then it rushed over me and I cried because I miss him but then after a moment I remembered his little tumble, the way he looked, and that laugh and it made me smile. Even as I write, I'm laughing and maybe it means I'm getting better, maybe that's a sign of progress, whatever it is, it feels nice to forget about how sad I've been.

It's been 14 days since I saw him last but tonight he made me laugh.

Everything was beautiful

April Showers

I can't tell if it's the weather or the fact that I've had 5 hours of sleep in the last 2 days, but today I feel exceptionally shitty. It's a bit cool outside and the rain, although light, has been steady- it's the kind of weather you feel like when you're having a terrible day. Just bottoms.

After Tim broke up with me (like, 2 weeks ago) I entered a self-help program because I felt like a loser and I felt stuck, unable to single out a reason for our break up and then thinking about my relationships before him and why they were failures. As most of you know, I split up with my now ex husband a little more than two years ago (which means this blog is in need of a birthday party!) and it's been a really weird ride, but after a year of drowning my problems in whiskey and food, I feel like I'm finally past the resentment stage of divorce. Don't get me wrong,  I will always remember the hurt that he caused, the mess he made, and how he left me with nothing, but when I think about it now, I don't get angry the way I used to.

Moving forward, I joined this self-help program on the strong recommendation of a friend because I am bad at relationships(?). I always get dumped, like, always, you guys know, just scroll through the archives and examine the evidence; I don't know what it is about me but men like me and then like fucking clockwork they wake up and are like " well, thanks for the ride, it was cool". I. Don't. Fucking. Get. It. Anyway, it's a *30 day program that "forces you to take a good look at the reasons for failed relationships" all the while "training you to appreciate and acknowledge who you are and all the wonderful things about you". I know it sounds, well, pathetic, but you guys, I am grasping at fucking straws here and I'll do just about anything to get me out of "this" whatever "this" is.

2 Sundays and 5 completed program modules later, I'm not 100 percent convinced, but I'm trying to be positive and stick with it. There's a lot of "homework" that comes along with the modules which usually look like worksheets with 3 to 5 questions on them whose questions are designed to make you examine and analyze your recently failed relationship and what role you played in "getting dumped". This is where I'm left looking for the bread trail; events, idiosyncrasies, lack of mutual understanding, bad clothes, dirty hair, body odor, but nothing stands out immediately which is making this all that much more difficult; what now? All I know for sure is that despite everything, all the anger, hurt, and feeling of absolute despair, deep down inside of my fleshy exterior, all red and hot, I really miss Tim.

I'm going to see this program through, because I spent 50 dollars on it and I need a little boost of self-esteem, and I'll hope that somewhere deep down inside of Tim, there is something sandwiched between the day we met and the day he broke up with me that he misses, even if it's just a little, even if it's every now and again.


* I can't tell you the name of the program because I will absolutely die from embarrassment also because I haven't completed it  and if it turns out to be a bunch of hooey I'd hate you to spend 50 dollars on some complete tripe

A Completely Serious Prayer

Dear God,

Please, please, please, please, please, please, please help me out here; I cannot go back to online dating. I don't have any intention of going out on a date just yet, but when it happens, please let it be with someone who is a real person that I've met. I'm not sure if you're privy to the nightmarish reality of online dating, but rest assured, it is the seventh circle of hell. Everytime I reactivate my old OKCupid profile I am reminded that even if I "like" them I genuinely already hate them. I swipe through so many profiles, always to the left, always "no", and it's weird because in the back of my mind I want all of them to be Tim. I don't want to date other people, I want to date Tim. Please help me, O Lord, because I'm really feeling some serious neglect. Furthermore, I'd like to talk to you about these stomach aches I have, they're really awful and they've been a real nuisance lately. I'm almost done, but if you could help me sleep a little better so I'm not always such a grump that would be cool too, but if I have to pick and choose I'd like it way more if you could help me procure that job in  Manhattan so that I can get away from here. Here is painful and sad and I really just want to go back home now. Finally, if you could help me not be so pathetic that would be way rad. Send me a sign that it's going to be alright, because I'm losing steam fast and I could really used a boost.

Amen. <3




Alright I lied, this is the last thing, if you could make breakfast magically appear that would be the ultimate gift. I mean really, just tops.

Of Sailing The Sea and Seeing The Stars

Today was hard and unhappy, and I'm still reeling.

I thought about the first time I met you, it was a Sunday and I was walking around my new neighborhood and happened upon a friend outside your bar. I thought about the first time you kissed me, wedged in between my doorway with the sun out and the street busy. I thought about our first date, and when you kissed me on the roof of the building next door to my apartment. I thought about the last time I saw you, different from any other time I ever looked at you. And tonight, or this morning rather, I'll dream about you, and I'll say all the things I didn't say when I wanted to.One day you'll be just like the others, a pleasant thought, a favorite food, a fragrant flower- an object familiar. I won't dream of you forever, or maybe I will, I don't know for sure, but at least for now I'll make it sweet and when I wake I'll pinch myself.

Down In The Dumps

Yesterday evening my boyfriend of roughly 5 months broke up with me and it was the suckiest Monday in the history of the world.

Today I vowed not to wallow in my sadness, and while it hasn't been the raging success I envisioned, it was .005 percent less horrible than yesterday.

In literary terms its referred to as foreshadowing, but what do you call that ominous feeling that looms over what you're sure to be a dark month? He had changed, he no longer cuddled me when we slept, his touches were less tender, and when he spoke to me his words were colder. It wasn't a clean break, certainly not swift and in the end I'm left with more questions than I feel I can handle, at least right now, but I am trying my best. I feel shafted. He sat at the end of my bed and made small talk:
"Did you get new bed sheets?" , "How was your weekend?" it was as if he'd never met me, some stranger forcing him to engage in conversation. I stayed relatively quiet, because I knew that it was coming to an end, and although I had prepared for it for the last week I was still caught off guard by his simple words.

"I came here today to tell you that I don't think we should see each other anymore" (simultaneously inserting a double serrated edge dagger into my already bleeding heart)

My heart sank, my stomach froze, and my eyes welled. "I haven't been happy for a month"(twisting the dagger, delivering the death blow) he went on "I thought maybe it was just me or something but I don't think that it is" (at this point I was imploding and I no longer could think straight so the last quote is a summation of what I believe he said). I swear I could feel the universe collapsing.

Now, there is a back story here, and while I cannot share it, I will tell you that the preface to the week that lead to this blog post was what one would consider a "doozie". I sat there before him and cried, because when you lose someone you love, crying is completely appropriate. I tried my best to look at him and I began "why did you wait so long?" I was awash in what felt like thick ash and acid rain- my mind raced and just as quickly as I was distraught I was also infuriated. With all the time that we shared I feel as if I was robbed of an ending that suited the story of us. So little was said and in my blindness I let him leave with "Good bye, Julie".

I felt defeated right then and today I feel just as bad, but writing is helping. Maybe it's helping? Last night I left him a message that in so many words told him that I just tried to be a good girlfriend and that he matters to me and that I care for him so profoundly.

I don't know what's going to happen, but for now I'll be sad and I'll post the love letter that I wrote to him but never sent.

On this day before the day before Valentines Day

This is my Valentine's Day gift to my boyfriend, Tim.

Roses are red, Violets are blue
I'm 5'3 and You're 6'2
thanks for the kisses, the hugs, and the holds
thanks for the squeezes you give when I'm cold

Here's to the first Valentine's Day we will share
not on the 14th but the 12th day in Février

Here's to the memories I hope you will keep
so near to your heart, down, inside, deep

And last here's this poem, I penned just for you
 So try to be nice, I struggled straight trough

I stumbled on meter, on rhythm, and prose
but it came from the heart, and I know that it knows
what's said best, on paper or verse
what comes out these lips, all pink with slight purse

Happiest of all women that is to say,
I couldn't be luckier this valentine's day

Petite Narative

I remember the time that I died; I lay prostrate on the pavement in the front of an auto shop on one of the coldest nights of the year. It happened quickly and although the timing was imperfect and the scenario seemed surreal, I remember that it didn't hurt- or perhaps it did but my heightened senses refused to let me experience what I had come to know as pain. I can only recall one other time that I was injured in a manner that others would consider grave but that I was unable to experience the extent of those injuries; I was 18 and had just been hit by a pick up truck on my motorcycle. Life is funny like that.

As I lay there on that cold pavement succumbing to my injuries I felt a wave of fear overcome my conscious, then I began to sympathise with my attacker; he must have been desperate, right? I grew colder, and the fear subsided and was replaced with serenity and then the most bizarre thing happened, I had forgotten I was dying and could only think about the inconvenience of being outside on the coldest night of the year to date. I mean, I was beyond irate that my assailant couldn't have killed me in a more convenient, at least for me, place.  

I swear to God that I must've been dying for over an hour, but time seems to register more slowly as you become one with the universe and slip into the bigger picture of ions and atoms and all things quantum. From the time my boyfriend scurried back to the car to grab his pack of cigarettes to the time I fell to the floor spilling what seemed to be quart after quart of precious hemoglobin, it couldn't have been more than two tangible minutes.

The discovery of my body made by my boyfriend was perplexing; he wore this mask I'd never seen before- it was all the emotions he'd never shared with me, or perhaps, never got the chance to, showing themselves to me and I felt uneasy because I couldn't console him properly. His mouth opened wide and he began to speak, maybe yell, I couldn't really comprehend at this point because I was too involved with what was going on with me to pay mind to him; tears began to roll down his face and it was at this moment that I knew I was going away.

I had recalled a conversation I had with an ex-lover of mine long past, we'd spoken of the moment of death and I'd divulged that the thought of death had frightened me, but his reply resonated with me at this moment "it's nothing to fear because you die and then its over" and he was right.

Drifting still, I returned back to the scene, my death, and noticed that my mate was pleading with me to hold on, to stay, and as he held my hand I remember how irritated I was that he was asking for a lot of me when he knew I couldn't deliver. What a jerk.

I really wanted to sit up. I tried to sit up, but god damnit I just couldn't talk to the rest of my body. It was fucking cold out there and so before I decided to take a nap, I looked up at my boyfriend and I told him, that it was cool, "like, it doesn't hurt or anything" and then he just stopped and so did I.