Isn’t it funny how we can get so worked up in the moment? So unable to see the other side? So angry and so self righteous?

Then, we give the thing room to breathe. We do other things, shop for groceries, watch the sun set.

Then we revisit the moment in our mind and its power has vanished.

Where did all that energy go? Why am I suddenly able to forgive, even forget?

This happened today and I think it means that I am growing up, slowly, painfully, but surely.


a father now

I’ve know this man for 10 years now.

I’ve seen him drunk, complacent, goofy, unemployed, joyous, inappropriate.

Today, I’m watching him in the living room, swaying back and forth, holding his baby girl in his arms.

He’s only known her for one month but he’s already become her father.

How is he already so comfortable being her everything?

It’s only been 30 days.

I am overcome with the beauty of it.

I see hope for humanity in the way he holds her.

This is where it begins.

He is showing her how she should be loved. How she should hold herself.

I hope she knows that she is one of the lucky ones.

I hope he knows that she will never thank him.


missing you

I miss you.

You are halfway around the world. Only just starting your day.

You’re basking in sun and novelty while I am blanketed by night and cold and loneliness.

Do you feel lonely at night too?

I’m still learning how to live without you. This is only just the beginning of the time we will spend apart.

You will move away. Find love. Stop asking me questions.

You want to hold me, keep me, love me.

I can’t give you what you want.

I can’t explain to you that I have become disillusioned. Romance starts as a sunset, brilliant, consuming, beautiful.

The colors shift and change and dance with one another. It’s magnificent. You try to copy it onto your cells.

Then in a soft blink, the colors mute themselves. You try but can’t stop blinking the color away. The vibrancy is slipping, why is it all so grey?

I know this sounds dark.

I really do belive in love.

I believe in the love that comes with lifelong friendship. I believe in growing old together and holding hands and laughing.

I can’t bear the thought of our sunset living out its life before mine ends.

I can’t fathom being myself without you.

We almost broke it. Before you went away.

Can we start over?

Souls don’t find each other very often. Not like this.

I want to go back to the beginning.

Before my life became what it is now

missing you.

self help

It’s January 16, 2018.

I have promised my husband that I will stop reading self-help books this year.

I have been devouring self-improvement for the last 10 years and I’m scared of what will happen to me if I let my consciousness venture away from the pursuit of personal perfection.

I have to laugh at that.

Self help books have not brought me any closer to ‘perfection’. If anything, they have illuminated the vast distances I still must travel to even scratch the surface.

The honest to god truth is that these books are my little comfort blankets. As long as I am in the middle of one, I can’t be expected to¬†really make any changes now, can I? I’m still in the learning phase, after all. I can curl up into them, rub my warm cheek against them, let them keep me safe from whatever lies beyond the starting line.

They keep me in denial. This way, I never actually have to do the work to grow.

I think this journal entry is a good sign. I have done an awful lot of reading about writing to avoid the act of putting pen to page.

It’s a Tuesday. I’m tired and cranky, but here I am writing something.

I do miss them though.