Monthly Archives: January 2015

Love Letter

Easter Sunday, 4/20/14

Dearest M,

While you’ll never read this, I think it’s important for me to write.  I know we’ve had a bit of a bumpy road.  But that’s just how my life is.  It’s bumpy.  It’s lumpy.  Always an adventure.  What I mean to say is that even though it has been bumpy, I’m glad it has been bumpy lately with you.

I know I’m a bit fragile, a bit broken and bruised, and, in turn seem like I need more from you than you can give, but don’t you realize that you are enough?  Just you, and knowing you’re there for me.  That I can talk to you about whatever, knowing that you actually give a shit about me, that’s enough.

It’s been a very rare occurrence that I’ve felt safe, felt like myself, felt happy with someone.  And I feel those things with you.  You also drive me insanely crazy, frustrate me, and turn me on like no other.  If this isn’t love, then I don’t know what is.

While I might not have the best role models in the love department, I know what it means.  I know how scary it is.  I know how amazing it can be when it comes around.  And now that I’ve found something like it, I’m going to seize it.

So while you work your way up in your career, I will continue to love you.  I’ll prove to you that I’m not going anywhere.  I’ll prove that this can work.

You make me feel beautiful, sexy, like I’m something to someone in this world.  No matter where we end up, that means something to me now.

I love you, babe.


Flaunting The Chaos

A couple of months ago, she prophetically told me after a few drinks that she wanted the chaos that the loser ass dude has to offer her. Boy did she get it. There has to be a point when she comes to her senses, right?  Maybe not.

Rather than respect what seems clearly to be the end of her 10 year marriage,  she’s flaunting the chaos all over Facebook for the world (and worse, her husband) to see. It has been progressing almost daily.

She started with the coy posting of song lyrics that talk about new love and burning bridges and moving on to the new thing. 

Then came “helping” the chaotic one out while he’s unemployed by posting his artwork for sale. 

But the pictures, oh God, the pictures! Canoodling, her snuggled up to him looking intently at the lense with more dark eyeliner than I’ve ever seen her wear, him looking at her like a lost puppy full of love. She’s angry at him for posting those and points the finger at him. But she participated in taking it in the first place. So really, is she just mad that she got caught and someone called her out?

Most recently, just hours after her husband pulled his account down because he couldn’t stand seeing it anymore, the painting of what sure as shit looks like his hand and her hand in a heart. Spray paint stencil art, just like he does. Suspicious as fuck if you ask me. She swears it’s not the loser’s, but who the hell knows anymore.

The Experiment

I stand before a tall building,  it’s glass edifice reflecting the turquoise blue of the darkness.  I know intuitively that she will be here.  She promised she would be.

The hairs on my neck prickle. This is a place of untold horrors.

When I cross the threshold into the cavernous lobby, the chill startles me. She is there just as I expected, sitting plainly on a stone bench to my right. Her skin is pale, hair messy, and her make up dark and smeared across her beautiful face.

She comes to my side as I walk further into the building.  The undead shuffle absentmindedly in the darkness.  They don’t notice me. When I look at my friend, I see that she is one of them herself and is ready to attack.

I can’t help but scream, alerting the others, who change course and quicken their pace toward me. I run into the blackness ahead of me, desperate to avoid them.

My scream sent others like me scrambling from their hiding spots, and they join me in my sprint.

I run up the stairs in front of me,  the crowd pushing me along. As I reach what seems to be the next floor, the breathless sound of terror rolls through the group as we encounter a wall of large gray creatures. Faced with an impossible decision, I make none at all.

Suddenly I am laying in a small bed. My head is pounding.  They tell me to take it slow, to take it easy, but I am in a rage because no one told me I was their experiment.  My nightmares were the product of a chemically induced REM sleep. 

I pull the covers aside and stumble out of the small bed they’ve put me in. My head feels strange, like it’s stuffed too full with cotton. They tell me that I need to relax,  but I can’t.  Suddenly, everything fades away and I collapse.

I hear their urgent whispers with him before my eyes can open again. He is scared for me, I can feel it. This makes me worry more. The conversation is something about scans and tests, all laced with anxiety. I cannot focus on anything and soon pass out.

When I wake I am desperate for his arms to be around me. He is there and cradles me, instantly making me feel safe and protected. The rise and fall of his strong chest lulls me to sleep once more. 

The blaring beep of my answering machine shocks me out of my slumber and he is gone, leaving no trace. I reach the blinking light to hear the message left. “I’m sorry to say, but the latest scans showed a large mass in her temporal lobe. She won’t last long.”

Try and Try, Again?

They say the definition of insanity is trying the same thing again and again,  but expecting the same results. Well, I guess I’m insane then.

I’ve been seeing this guy on and off for years. When things got too intense early on, I freaked out and ran away. It wasn’t that I didn’t like him (by any means), but I wasn’t ready for love. I was beyond broken, trying to hold the pieces of my heart together with tape and elementary school paste at the time. So I bolted like a terrified little fawn. I really do wish I hadn’t, but sometimes these things happen.

After some time apart and a major breakdown and break up in my life, we ultimately reconnected. I remembered all the reasons I really liked him in the first place and fell hard, fast. He didn’t. Ever since, for more than a year, we’ve gone back and forth, walking both sides of the friends/lovers fence at various points.

A few months ago, I decided I either need to get my shit together and make it work with him or let it go. I have been trying to open up, to let him know how I feel without overwhelming him or myself. He responds exactly how I wish he would by phone, but getting together in person is an effort in futility.

We connect on a very deep level emotionally and the chemistry when we do see each other is ridiculous. But seeing each other every 6 weeks or 2 months is not enough. I have tried everything I can think of to increase the frequency of our meetings without being desperate. Yet nothing has changed.

He’s another person I really don’t want to lose from my life. He gets me in a way that no man has before. But I deserve more. I deserve to have an emotional and physical connection. I crave physical closeness. It’s not just about sex, but the cuddling, hand holding, hugs, talking, and just being physically present with each other. I know it’s not too much to ask, but despite my efforts over more than a year, it’s still not happening.

While I see a beautiful future with him, I can’t do it alone. Do i give it one more shot or let it go? I don’t know if I’m ready to make that decision, but I do know that I don’t like feeling rejected over and over again. I don’t like feeling unimportant. I’ve felt those things too many times throughout my life as it is already. I should not feel those things in any of my relationships now. But the heart wants what the heart wants.

Good grief.

Is this the end?

Feeling emotionally raw tonight. 

Things between my friend and her husband blew up again. Surprise surprise, the open marriage concept did not work here.  I knew it was only a matter of time,  really.  He’s left for the time being so they both can get some space.  I hope it helps.

The strain all of this has been putting on our friendship is nearing a breaking point. It makes me so sad and I feel like I’m going to be alone again. She and I have been through so much. From the highs of graduating law school and passing the Bar Exam together, to the lowest of lows as I lost my mind, we’ve done a hell of a lot.  I don’t want to lose her.

But I can only handle so much drama; especially as I work through childhood abuse and all the fun effects of that. So I’m faced with what feels like an impossible choice: pull away or die trying to make it work.  Okay that last bit was a little much, but you get what I mean.

As I walk this path of my life,  I need her support.  As she walks this path of her life, she also needs my support. It would be fantastic if we can walk the walk together.

I just hate to sit by and watch her throw away everything good in her life for this loser ass dude she cheated on her husband with. I can’t condone it. She is worth so much more than that. She deserves someone who makes her feel beautiful and loved and desired. She deserves someone dedicated to her. Someone who will work hard to provide for she and her family. This guy she’s “in love” with is not the answer. I hope she comes around and sees it too.




Have been exploring the joys of watercolor recently and wanted to share a couple of my projects with you. Hope you like them as much as I do!


My Hope


I wonder what people will think of me after I die and they read my journals.  I hope they see a person who,  despite the issues she has, was able to conquer it all to become a successful,  well adjusted, loving,  caring human being.

If I have children,  I hope they love,  respect,  and cherish me and the relationship we develop over their lifetime.  I hope they feel nothing but unconditional love from me. That they can be who they want without judgment.  That their lives end up better than I could ever hope.  Above all, I hope they are happy.  Happy with themselves.  Happy in life.  Happy in love.  That they find themselves amongst people who cherish them as much as I do. That they do not suffer of some of the things I suffer from.