unhappy

The week we slept together I was still happy. 

I slept with you and with Glasses and that couple. 

I slept with three other people the week we last slept together. 

Did you sleep with her that same week?

I slept with three other people and I was happy and I was vibrant and I trusted myself. 

The night you wrote me I was happy. 

I slept with a stranger and I was happy and I went to the coast and I missed your opera because I was happy and I had plans that had nothing to do with you and I didn't need to write you back because you'd sent me a song and that was enough and I felt beautiful and I was happy. 

The night you called me I was so happy. 

We talked for hours and you called the next night and we talked even longer and you wanted my body each night but I didn't come over because we wanted things to be different and I said you could have my body in fifteen hours and you moaned fifteen hours like it was the longest length of time to endure. 

And I said yes, I will be all yours in fifteen hours and I told you I'm so happy and you whispered so am I. 

And then you disappeared and I was unhappy. 

You missed our date and you never called and I didn't know what happened or if you were okay and I was worried and I was unhappy. 

And I finally found you and you cried and ran away from me when I tried to say goodbye and I didn't understand and my confusion made me unhappy. 

And weeks passed and then I stumbled upon you and you turned away from me and ran away again and I didn't understand and my confusion continued to make me unhappy. 

And then the next day you wrote the cruelest words you've ever said to me, crueler than anything I ever dreamed you might feel and your cruelty numbed my heart and I was so unhappy. 

And then the next day because you possibly feared your words hadn't been sharp enough you blocked me, blocked me as you had promised through tears you would never do, but now you had, have blocked me.

Unfair, unkind rhetoric and unnecessary banishment from every corner of your life. 

And I am fucking unhappy. 

I don't sleep with anyone and I doubt my own instincts and my wild heart and I'm unhappy. 

Everyone wants me to forget you and let it go but my heart hurts so much and I am so desperately unhappy. 

I'm sitting on the beach and the ocean always calms my soul and it's nice and all but I'm still monumentally unhappy. 

And my best friend was crying, on her stomach, uncontrollably shaking and she said I don't want to be sad anymore and I said I don't either but I'm still so unhappy. 

And we are the feelers.

Everything pierces our hearts and lingers and we resonate with every ounce of feeling within it. 

And it would be nice to stop feeling sad. 

It would be nice to sleep with strangers and feel beautiful and go places I love and be so so happy but right now my heart is broken and I am unhappy. 

I put on a hat I love and wore the red lipstick in the gold case I'd never used before and I'm trying really hard to remember the rainbow I used to be but I'm still incredibly unhappy. 

And maybe it's wrong to give you so much power and you shouldn't know this depression is rooted in you because after all, you're just a boy, not nearly yet a true man, you're frightened and you're a coward and you are not capable of the kind of love overflowing in my veins. 

But it's you. 

The culprit of my wounded heart. 

The villain. 

The unfortunate object of my hearts greatest desire. 

And time will make all of this smaller and I will learn to cohabitate with my sadness and it will release me from the final memory of your cruel stare peering through that faded window pane, staring at my form in horror through those green spectacles I detest in entirety. 

But now, right painfully now, I am devastated and I'm unhappy. 

And as much as I may be awful in saying this, I hope wherever you are, whatever you're doing, whichever new woman is in your bed this Sunday afternoon, I hope you are secretly, monumentally, unhappy too.

Because how could you possibly embody pure joy when you have shattered the woman I used to be. 

to the man who gave me a pony

I must have been particularly downcast last night because I reached for the stuffed animal you gave me. 

I slept with it often when you gave it to me last year. 

But I hadn't for a long time. 

And I needed it last night. 

It's fuzzy mane fit perfectly under my neck and it was like this calming reassurance to my heart that there is love outside of this pain. 

I remember when you gave it to me I was naked under the covers. 

You tip toed the tiny thing from my navel to my chin until you peeked it's head from under the blanket. 

It was so cheesy adorable and surprisingly unsexual considering we'd just, *cough*, fucked. 

I don't even remember why I'd gotten so pissed at you but you went and done got me a pony because for six years whenever you'd piss me off I'd say, You owe me a pony!

And there it was, snuggled up in my hands, like some treasure, some fuzzy embodiment of sheer affection. 

You felt kind of ridiculous giving it to me, and really a forty year old giving his lover a stuffed animal probably is a little ridiculous, but it was perfect just like you knew it would be, and all these months later it was what brought me comfort when I was feeling so overwhelmingly fucking sad. 

I was playing with Cartier tonight, laying on the floor, and I suddenly remembered how you'd come over and got on your hands and knees and magically charmed my cat. 

Remember that morning you walked in carrying Cartier and I nearly died of shock because my cat HATES men but he loved you. 

And I do too. 

You're ten years older than him which is wild to imagine. 

Two soul mates, so very far apart. 

He blocked me again. 

Phone and social media this time. 

Like Kai. 

Why are all the men I love so afraid of me, Batman?

You've never been.  

You're the only one. 

And you have no idea how much comfort it brings me knowing you would never shut me out entirely. 

Not like they did. 

It's almost our season, you know. 

The leaves will nearly change color and you'll wear those cabbie hats I adore and the moon will be so bright and so close you'll want to reach out and touch it. 

Like me. 

The moon. 

All this pain has happened and I thought of you and wished you'd hear my heart crying but I remembered this isn't our season and I won't hear from you for several months. 

Men and their seasons. 

His, the spring. 

Yours, the fall. 

The winter does get so terribly lonely. 

But you know it only took one night with you last year to make me forget about him entirely. 

I wonder if that's what his girlfriend does for him....

Make him forget me entirely....

But I don't get to keep you so then I am reminded of both losses. 

And it's okay because somehow I know we're gonna end up together when we're old and tired and it will be enough just to stare into each other's shimmering eyes. 

One look from you and all the cares in my world melted away. 

I have always been a goddess to you. 

And not because I was some mere fantasy. 

But because I am a woman you adore.

No one else has ever done that to me. 

The man I'm pining for now makes me doubt all the wild cries within my heart.

He always has.

Because I have only ever been a fantasy in his eyes. 

But You..

You, my darling, are possibly the only man who loves how absolutely crazy my wild heart can be. 

And you will always be the one because of it. 

For the Love of Guac

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the music never changes

I thought of something. 

The other day, feeling nothing. 

I remembered how much he said he loved Tom Waits. 

That he was his favorite, actually. 

And I know I'm not supposed to believe any other part of the conversation.

Because he never does what he says he will and he always does what he says he won't. 

And I know I'm not supposed to believe the love that was expressed or the lyrics that were sung. 

It's you and it's you and it's you.

Because it was never me. 

But amidst hours of lies, there was at least A truth. 

He does love Tom Waits. 

And he did change his voice by screaming into a pillow.

So there's that. 

That's real. 

Everything else was feigned.

But I have that. 

So I found a Tom Waits pandora station. 

And I love it. 

And listening to jazz and blues right now makes sense. 

And it's nice to have something make sense right now. 

Because none of our interactions make any sense. 

And I know there's a part of me that needs to hope that I'll hear from him again one day. 

But I know I won't. 

He's never blocked me in every way before. 

And every man whose done that, it's been forever. 

He doesn't even care that I didn't do it. 

I guess that's our story though. 

Burned down just because I was there. 

Doing nothing. 

Just breathing. 

And he doesn't read this anymore. 

He's forgotten me. 

Because he told me that's what he does. 

That he can. 

He burns for me in the spring. 

Then hates me in the summer. 

And forgets me in the winter. 

But next spring will be different. 

He won't see me across the room and walk up and give me a hug. 

He won't miss his bus on purpose and text me when he gets home and say it was fun to see me. 

He won't see me at all. 

But maybe when he doesn't mean to he might remember me. 

For just a moment. 

For a song. 

Maybe that might at least be real.  

Maybe I can at least have that. 

Our New Place

I woke up dazed. 

Hungover. 

Numb. 

Last nights mascara stuck to my cheek. 

It felt like I'd dreamed it.

But of course

I hadn't. 

My dreams aren't that fucked up.

I had to get up because I had a photoshoot which I desperately wanted to cancel but I figured that was a terrible idea since it was a paid gig and I'm such a novice I don't want to start having a reputation for being a flake. 

Even though I was sobbing while trying to hide my pain with Kat Von D foundation.

So I went and thankfully because the photography process is so slow there was a lot of time where I was waiting. 

I didn't have to be on.

I just kind of zoned out and watched the honeybees sipping flowers on the grass wondering why they're always portrayed as cute in cartoons when in real life I'm terrified of being stung. 

Then moments from last night replayed in my mind and I cringed. 

And I tried to look at the blue sky and think about other things.

The students in the class were a welcome distraction. 

One told me he wanted me to smile for his photo because my smile was so lovely. 

The shot of each photo lasted several seconds before it was complete so I had to hold my giant grin for what felt an awkwardly long time.

He told me that was perfect and took the tin film cartridge inside to be developed. 

I felt relieved that I didn't have to smile anymore. 

I zoned out once again looking at the grass. 

It was a strange feeling, being able to turn on the exuberance for an audience. 

And then go back to listless and lifeless when no one was looking. 

When the session was over I was grateful.

It had helped. 

A little. 

Being around strangers.

Being distracted. 

But I also wanted it to be okay for me to just feel numb. 

I met Amelie and we went for brunch. 

Brunch at 3pm felt appropriate. 

The streets were quiet. 

The restaurant was empty. 

I'm glad it's sunny, Amelie said. 

I wanted it to rain so the weather would match my mood, I said. 

Amelie looked at me knowingly. 

But we don't always get what we want. 

I sipped my water. 

Our waiter came over and was so friendly.

He made us laugh.

He sat down at the table and started telling us stories. 

It was this new energy, for both of us, suddenly.

Silly, happy, carefree light being shoved in both our faces. 

And it was wonderful. 

When he brought us our bill he said, I bought your drinks, ladies. 

It was such a small thing but he walked away and I looked at Amelie, See, that. Made me happy. 

There were still moments. 

Moments that made me happy. 

And it felt like this lifeline. 

Something to hold onto when everything else was crumbling around me. 

When I couldn't get a hug from her anymore or a saz from him anymore.

We got up to leave and he gave us each a hug.

We took a few steps away from the restaurant then looked at each other and hugged. 

We have a new place, I said. 

Yeah, this will be our new bar. 

Who needs Barlow when we have Brayden.

And who knows. 

Maybe he even made an amazing sazerac. 

Bye Bye Bestie

She dumped me. 

I can't even tell you what happened. 

Fifteen years later, I get a text. 

Love to you.

What does that even mean?

Matthew sent love my way once.

Is that like the namaste version of I don't love you but I'm a spiritual person whose better than you so here's a little love because I'm so very generous, spirit flower?

She could have picked up the fucking phone. 

Or shit, I don't know, seen me.

It's fate, really, because she's behaving the way she knows my past lovers have done. 

She sounds just like Nick in the letter he wrote you last summer, Mom said. 

Jesus. 

Sounding like the kid who told me being around me disrupted the energy of his soul?

What a life goal right there. 

I'm so fucking hurt. 

I said I love you, I said I'm hurting.

And she said, I just need to focus on myself right now.

Are you allowed to just dismiss someone's plea for you?

I always will be here as your friend. 

Right. 

Just not right now. 

Just not in any way you know I need.

It's the girlfriend equivalent of We can still be friends when everyone knows after a breakup. 

You never fucking stay friends. 

But thanks a heap for the platitudes and niceties. 

I'm glad you could feel centered and balanced while you told me to fuck off. 

I was much more succinct. 

Fuck you, bestie.

What a bunch of self indulgent victimizing bullshit. 

I've been with you longer than your spouse and you suddenly can't be bothered to deal with me?

I shut another woman out of my life because of her mistreatment of you and now I'm being shut out.

That's perfect. 

Good for you. 

Good for you for sending me such perfectly composed, calculated texts. 

After all, a text message really is the most truthful way to communicate. 

I mean, shit, Matthew used Facebook messenger but you, you really took it up a notch, you used a text. 

I'd tell you what I really thought of you but I know you won't read this now that you're too zen to participate in social media. 

Fucking hell. 

You know what's sad?

You want to know the most fucked up part about this break up?

I 

don't 

miss her. 

We've been so fucking estranged for so goddamn long and I haven't been able to count on her or trust her with who I truly am for so long, the only time I missed her was when I was sobbing and wanted the familiarity of her comfort. 

Now she's some stranger telling me we had an amazing season of friendship. 

HAD.

Our season. 

HELLO!!

WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU TALKING TO ME LIKE IM SOME STRANGER IN SOME DAMN YOGI CLASS THIS IS ME WHY ARE YOU BEING SO FAKE WE USED TO BE US WHERE IS MY FRIEND

But fine. 

Fucking fine. 

Seasons. 

Let me tell you about my current season. 

I don't wear makeup to work anymore.

I don't care. 

Anymore. 

About things that used to matter.  

I'm a mess. 

I'm depressed and discouraged and I don't know what to believe about anything anymore. 

I'm heartbroken. 

I don't believe in love. 

I believe in pain. 

I'm lost and I'm hurting and the last time I reached out to you and we talked on the phone I hung up and I felt like shit. 

You made me feel like absolute shit. 

Because you don't understand me at all anymore. 

And everything you had to say was such harsh criticism, I couldn't believe you were talking to me that way. 

And that's my fault. 

It's my fault you pushed me away and never let me know what was going on. 

I'm sorry I don't have a boyfriend and I'm sorry I don't work out every day. 

I'm sorry I don't eat enough kale and I'm so so goddamn sorry I missed your fucking concert. 

If I knew you were going to kick me out of your life because of it I would have gone. 

But why would it even matter if I was there when I'm not your family anymore?

If you don't need me to be a part of what you're feeling or what you're dealing with, if you don't need me the ways you used to, why do you think I would assume I need to be there for some event that has nothing to do with me?

That event was for family. 

And I'm just people, remember?

You've been pushing people away. 

I'm one of the mass of faces. 

I've stopped being your person for months now. 

No, no, this is so completely fucked up.

You are doing EXACTLY what every man whose broken my heart has done. 

Exactly. 

Knowingly. 

Intentionally. 

The very way you know, cuts my heart. 

Shut me out. 

Stopped communicating. 

So you can balance your chi.

While I'm not okay. 

While you don't care that I'm not okay. 

And maybe one day, maybe one day, you'll send me another feigned text, and we can meet for chai, cuz you would never dare drink coffee, and we can pretend we give two fucks that we have even less in common, that we have become absolute fucking strangers, because you decided to dump me.

During the time I needed you more than I ever have. 

Love to you?

No.

Keep your lies. 

I have nothing more to say to you. 

some other time

That fucking sadness.

Creeping up on me and smacking me upside the head.

Totally fine. 

And then WHAM.

I can't breathe. 

Fucking hell I can't fucking breathe. 

And I was driving. 

Why am I always driving when I can't stop crying?

And then I suddenly thought

Of her. 

Memories flooded my mind of countless hugs, years of men who'd broken my heart, who didn't want me, but her arms were always open.  

She always met me when I needed someone to hold my hand. 

To walk with me. 

To believe there was a man somewhere who would not run. 

And I wanted to go to her. 

Wanted her arms to comfort me again. 

Wanted some semblance of familiar comfort in this constant change.

And I started to. 

Go to her. 

And then a pang hit my heart, a nerve I'd never felt before. 

As quickly as I'd longed for her it began to fade away. 

I imagined her standing there looking back at me like What are you doing here

And I didn't trust her

Know her

Believe she would believe for me anymore. 

So I kept driving

I drove to arms that were new but that my heart trusted implicitly. 

And she believed for me

And she held my hand and walked with me

And I felt my heart long for her once more so I sent a text

I love you

And she never said it back 

My heart cried out for her as far apart as our hearts now are

And her heart didn't hear mine

Or maybe it did

And it just had nothing to say 

Her Song

Matthew

Yes, Matthew

I can say your name too

I have nothing to hide

It's the same name I moan when I'm wishing you were 

Inside

This mind, this parasitic tick, of your venom echoes in endless loops

I've been polite

Polite? 

Please, you've treated me like a whore, some common slut you enjoyed in shame tossing with the same disgust you had for that menthol cigarette 

No, dearest one,

You have not been polite

You've ran, disregarded, disrespected, given no fucks

You begged me to come over bend me over then ignored me for a month

Then you needed a fix so you wrote me, sent a love song, needed more

And you planned our summer together and wondered how we'd endure time apart when autumn explored

Then again

Yes, again

You disappeared, disregarded, disrespected, gave absolutely no fucks

Until I found you and wanted the answer

Which you revealed through well performed tears 

Bravo, brave warrior, it must have been rough to finally share such truth 

And lies

Because it's all the same

You see

I've found out your trick your inconsistency is that it's always both

The truth is a lie

Your lies become your truth 

You chose a woman who tried to kill you and shunned the woman who tried to love you

But you're right

I'm always right

He says, I'm always the one whose right about everything anything any living being 

I know

He says, so how can I even speak 

I am wrong

I don't know you at all

Each time you let me in, shared such intimate thoughts, it wasn't me, there's no connection, I am a pawn

A plastic game piece for you to move from one square to another

No, I'm not right, in what I feel, believe, have fought for

I'm just some woman

Another fucking woman

Inconvenient, creepy, crazy, stalking woman

You don't want to see me

You didn't post those photos for me 

You wanted all your other friends to know

39th and Hawthornish

Where the people who really know you can go

Drink and be merry

For tomorrow

Hope to wake up tomorrow 

Still a fool tomorrow 

Won't budge a stubborn inch tomorrow

Still read this blog tomorrow

I do not accept your wild inconsistencies

NO

I AM RIGHT 

You're right, it's hard for me to admit that because I'm always right, but you're right

I'm what??

You're right

Yes, me

Me me ME fucking me have you ever paused a moment to actually consider me?

The city is full of pussy what the fuck have you needed with me

Just to take all the darkness you carry inside and heave it on my light 

So maybe I'll feel nothing 

Like you

Care for no one

Like you

Take all until I can no longer breathe

Like you do

I went there 

You villain

Because you said the times last year got you through 

I went there for you

You shouldn't have been there

But you wanted me to 

You wanted me to find you

Wanted me to need you so desperately, reach out frantically, so you, for a moment, could feel value

And I sent each image because you willed me to

Feel wanted desired fantasized 

And now do you want my truth?

I am relieved. 

Thankful 

I no longer house the responsibility to reach out 

For your sake

I hate never getting replies

It makes me feel ugly inside

Your response 

Your final reply

was to something I didn't even do

I didn't fucking chase you call out your name  

I sat quietly

Waited patiently

Accepted your cowardice gracefully

And you finally composed poetry to tell me 

I don't want you

When the only other times we spoke I was the cracked country lips you still wished to kiss and you were thanking your lucky stars that you found me and I was your sexual soulmate 

At least I'm poetic when I'm drunk

Remember?

Do you even fucking remember?

But no, I'm wrong, stupid little woman,

Fuck you you're wrong

All that was in good fun

Do you even know what that word means?

It wasn't real because you're unfathomable

Your actions, your words, all in such violent opposition, contradiction.

You would stab me then look into my eyes and ask, What have you done?

Yes, this is my fault,

I should have listened to all those things you didn't say 

You were polite

And I was crazy

Yes, this story, this connection, was a dark fantasy, an invention of my gullibility, what we have, why, we have nothing

This has never been something

I stood on the wrong street at the wrong hour and you preyed on me

Such tempting, willing flesh, begging to be devoured by your apathy

Yes, I will respect you for once, my Dom,

Do just as you say, my Dom,

Smacked in the face til I scream

You're right my Dom

Always

Right

Alone even inside her all night

Right

OKAY YOU'RE FUCKING RIGHT

I SAW YOUR POST AND I DIDN'T GO SEE YOU TONIGHT ALRIGHT

You don't get to fuck me up fuck her up fuck all the ones who don't really know you up 

Me?

Me

You never saw

Me

Never held onto

Me

I need to fight for

Fight for

Love 

I forgave in love

Believed, trusted, fought for love

The word we never spoke but understood

Love

The reason you ran from my lips

Love

Undeserving unrequited stubborn unending love running through rivers and roads to my boundless fucking hate this pain but still must outside of my control LOVE

You cruel unfeeling monster

I Still Love

Heaping this warmth on your frigid icy heart love

I am

Love 

I will heal from this

love

I could never hate you because love

I gave you my heart and you gave me a facebook message love

Lover it's never over

But please stop cutting into these hearts

The crack in that glass will turn to shards in your hands

And if everything in your mouth is mere lies

was there not one truth that you spoke

Could you find it again in all the highs, love?

And rebuild the holocaust we now stand in

Please Love?

His Song

Teresa

What the fuck is wrong with you

You bewilder and overwhelm me

Teresa

That's not what I want, that fear and chaos, making me doubt all I know

Teresa

Why were you in there? I walked out, saw, and wanted to scream

Teresa

Just fucking go away, leave, be gone, just go, just leave just fucking GO

Te-ree-sa

I didn't mean it, don't you see? Those things I confessed, not true, no more, I've buried them, ignored them. 

Didn't you believe me, believe when I said I knew how to forget you?

Teresa

Just stop, just stop like I've asked you-

But you have never, never asked me-

TERESA YES I DID

In my silence couldn't you hear? My screams, I am not the man you see here, this has all been some bad dream

Teresa

I lied when I said I'd never block you I lied I went and blocked you so you could feel this numb inside

Teresa

I LIE 

Why do you think you heard the truth? There is no fucking truth, consistent impulse in me, it's dark and frightening and bleek.

Teresa

I don't understand you don't want to don't need you

I will not change I can't change

TERESA I WILL NOT BE THE MAN FOR YOU

I feel like shit when I'm around you reminded of all I am all I've done all I will never do never be for you why won't you fucking release me

Teresa

I fucked up I fuck up get fucked up fuck girls up all while still sometimes thinking of you

But no

Teresa

Fucking Teresa

Not my lady 

Teresa 

Fare

Thee

Well

There

You happy?

I berated you disparaged fucking hated you didn't doubt for a moment that chaos at my work was created by you

But wait

Fuck

Fucking shit

Wait 

It was her and they told me it was her, some tiny girl, and they laughed when they told me, and fuck fuck FUCK why was I so mean, fucking shit

HERE

Here, here's a photo like you asked me

Come here

Like you said to tell you where to find me 

Come see me tonight here

Through the bookshelf, I know I banished you, but please it's not what's real, fuck YOU'RE THE ONLY ONE WHO KNOWS ME LOVER IT'S NEVER OVER COME HERE

And we can have that moment that you wanted, you can look in my eyes, like you needed, I'll even smile back, I promise 

Come see me tonight come through the bookshelf

We can put this behind us, I should have called you instead of texted

Wait

I will never reach out to you again.

Teresa..

BYE

...............

Hey, remember that time you went chasing after my ex lover? Part 2

My phone lit up on my desk and I saw his name.

My heart dropped into my stomach.

I hadn't heard from him in a month.

It was a facebook message and I don't know how, but I somehow knew it was bad. 

Maybe because he started the message with Teresa.

And he only ever used my actual name when he was mad at me. 

Any other time I was sweetie or baby or dear.

But today I was Teresa.

You almost got me fired. I almost lost my job because you decided to drunkenly storm through our kitchen...all the while calling for me.

Oh my god. 

I hate to use words like creepy, crazy or stalker so don't make me.

He thinks it was me.

I don't want to be with you. I don't want to be friends with you.

He's so angry.

You're no longer allowed in, by the way.

I could feel the rage in each of his words. 

I wrote back that I was sorry but that it wasn't me, that Amelie had been upset.

It doesn't matter you shouldn't have been there.

I replied that I wished we could have a conversation that wasn't through text.

That is not an option. Fare thee well.

And I didn't reply.

There was such an eerie calmness that came over me as I stepped outside on my break and called Amelie to tell her what happened. 

I wasn't mad and sadness wasn't the right word either. 

It was just such a tragic set of circumstances that I could do absolutely nothing about. 

I'd spent the last month wondering where he was, hoping one day I would find him again, just to look into those eyes that once enjoyed gazing into mine.

And I thought it would be months before that ever happened. 

Then, wondrously, someone had just handed us his new location, and I finally had the chance to see him again sometime. 

And just as quickly as we had found him, he had banished me from his bar because of something my adorably clueless best friend had done. 

And so there wasn't any room for doubt, he'd even stamped his verbal execution with his fare thee well, just as he'd done a year ago.

It was all far too familiar, and since we'd been through all this already, all I really thought after reading his anger was, I don't believe you.

This is what he does, Mother reminded me, I love you I can't live without you then I hate you get out of my life.

It probably should have stung my wounded heart but I had already learned the truth weeks ago about what I meant to him so I just processed his words as anger.

And released them.

I called Amelie and told her what happened.

She was devastated. 

Hey, I told her, It's okay, I'm not mad at you. This is not your fault. Don't you know how much I love you. That the reason I didn't see him when he walked out was because I was looking at you because I love you and was worried about you and in that moment, even though I should have been staring at the door waiting to finally get to see him, I was staring at you. Because you mean more to me. You're my soul mate. 

She started crying and I started crying and the sun sang down gently on my skin. 

It's just so sad, she said. You waited so long to be able to see him again and we finally found him and now we can't go back.

I know. It sucks.

What do you want to do tonight?

Can we just watch Nana and cry?

Yeah. Let's watch Nana and cry.

I ended up down on the waterfront that night. 

I walked around the river and saw the couple's holding hands and the teenagers catching Pokemons and I did cry but it wasn't out of sadness. 

I used to spend hours by this river last year wishing I knew the truth, wishing he'd reveal the secrets of his heart. 

And this year, by some miracle, he had. 

He'd poured his heart out for hours and hours, telling me things I never knew, about her, about his feelings for me, about why he always pushed me away. 

And now I knew. 

I cried because I finally knew the truth. 

And I couldn't have him and I didn't get to look into his face and I would never again have the perfect sazerac.

But I at least had the truth. 

I had the answer, the cry of my heart, what I'd known and fought for and held onto for so very long. 

And somehow that was enough.

Where are you? Amelie asked me.

And I smiled because. 

Timing.

I'm almost to the Hawthorne bridge, I said.

I'll meet you there. 

And I stood there, looking out over the city, memories flooding my eyes, joy fighting it's way to my heart. 

And I glanced over my shoulder and saw her. 

A blurry form, her outline faint, but I still knew. 

It was her. 

A hint of her signature color, burgundy, reached my eyes first. 

The color caused water to form at the corners as I blinked. 

I stood there watching her.

Coming towards me, slow, her arms clutching her sweater. 

The corners of water spilled down my cheeks. 

I'd wanted, for as long as I could remember, him to meet me on this bridge. 

In so many ways it was a metaphor of our love because I knew he never would. 

But Amelie was.

Because she was my actual soul mate. 

And I didn't need him anymore when he had been so harsh, so violent in his dismissal of me. 

I started walking towards her and when we were finally within arms reach of each other she reached hers out and started crying too. 

I'm so sorry, she sobbed.

I know. It's okay, I whispered back. I love you.

I love you too.

We stood there for awhile just staring at the city lights.

It was a strange feeling, to be heart broken and okay at the same time. 

You know where we should go?

Where?

The Box Social.

It was our favorite bar. 

It was the place we used to always go before all of this started. 

Yeah, I smiled, Let's go there. 

And we both already started feeling like ourselves again. 

Which is easier than I realized. 

Accepting those who won't accept you.

Loving, without ever again seeing the face of your hearts wildest desire. 

Hey, remember that time you went chasing after my ex lover?

Maybe Chops knows where he's working.

Amelie got a glint in her eyes, the one that always meant something catastrophic or glorious was about to happen.

She walked up to the bar with all the nonchalance a drunk girl could muster.

Heeeeeeeeey Chops, how's it going? She leaned against the bar with one hand on her hip and I thought to myself, this is never going to work, this guy is going to see right through the crazy girls standing at the end of the bar.

Heeeeeeeey, so whatever happened to that onnnne guy.....Each of Amelie's words dragged out further than the last.

Who, Douglas?

Yeah, yeeeeeeah, Douglas, yeah.

Oh yeah, great guy, he's working at Era now.

And Chops looked right at me after he said that, as if to say, Yeah, I know who you are, that's where he is, go get him, Sazerac.

A moment of disbelief washed over me and in my mind the room faded to black and I was left alone standing there, spotlight on me, as I begun to sing a dramatic musical number. 

Now I know....I know where he is.....

The object of Amelie's affection was manning the front of the bar and she wanted to stay for another drink, which I was so totally, obviously okay with.

Let's go let's go let's go....

But no, yeah, absolutely, let's stay.

Let's go ohmygod please let's go I finally get to see him.

But I sat, calmly, at the bar as we engaged the bartender in sassy conversation. 

Amelie had only finished half her drink and volunteered we could leave and I protested, no, no, take your time, finish your drink, it's fine. 

Let's go let's go let's fucking go.

And then the bartender pissed Amelie off and she said something she didn't mean and was suddenly ready to go.

We got into my car and she started to cry and I was so conflicted because I wanted to run to Douglas but I wanted Amelie to be okay. 

We can go another night, are you up to going? Do you wanna just go home?

And she shook her head and lied and said it was fine and I reached for her hand and squeezed as we drove in the dark. 

We walked into the new bar and Amelie marched up to the lone bartender standing there. 

Hi. Is Douglas working? She asked with a giant grin on her face. 

The bartender said she would check and see and went to the kitchen.

She came back and said he would be right out.

I held my breath slightly but was so preoccupied with Amelie.

I kept watching her, trying to gauge if she was okay.

I reached my arm out and stroked her hair. 

All of a sudden I saw her face shift and I turned my head to look at what she was seeing and I saw the back of Douglas walking back into the kitchen. 

He came out took one look at you and went back there, she said.

I put my hand on her back, It's okay, he doesn't want to see me, it's okay. We know where he is now, maybe we can come back some other night.

I took a sip of my water and felt surprisingly calm.

So much build up over the chance to finally see him again and he just ran away from me.

Like he had the last time I saw him.

I set my water down and looked at Amelie, wondering if she was ready to go.

She looked at me, her eyes darting. 

She wiped the mascara smeared underneath each of her eyes and then took a deep breath.

She looked at me intensely and said, I might get arrested.

She hopped down from her bar stool and walked in front of the kitchen doors where she paused. 

She raised both of her arms and flung them forward forcing the doors wide open as she dramatically marched into the kitchen.

I made eye contact with the bartender and we both raised our eyebrows but didn't move.

I heard raised voices, though they were muffled and I wondered what she was doing and I also was kind of falling even deeper in love with her in that moment because I knew a part of her was chasing after my ex lover because she refused to accept he wouldn't speak to me.

Suddenly, like some French farce, Amelie came storming out of some door to the left of me, stomping right past me to another door to my right, then coming back to where I was sitting and declared, I can't find him.

Then she stormed out the front of the bar out the main door.

I looked back again at the bartender who returned my gaze in bewilderment.

I have no idea what's going on, I said, and I grabbed my purse and Amelie's.

I started to follow after her but she was already marching back in and she said she wanted to go to the back of the bar so we headed to the dark back corner of the bar where Amelie finally stopped walking and crumbled into a chair and sobbed. 

He disappeared, she said, I wanted to ask him about Luke.

I know, I said, it's okay. Do you want to smoke the cigarette Luke gave you?

She nodded her head without making a sound and I went back to the bewildered bartender to ask for matches. 

We sat outside taking long drags off the cigarette. 

You know, the really funny part is everyone is going to think you're me.

You mean because I went chasing after him calling his name?

We laughed, Yeah. You're the crazy ex girlfriend.

I flicked the cigarette and shook my head. 

He ran away from me.

I took a long, slow drag. 

I am so important, I nearly whispered. 

And I felt happy. 

So sublimely, fucking happy.

Just to know where he was, to know I could sit at his bar again and sip a sazerac and feel, just for a moment, connected. 

Had I known that cigarette was to be the turning point in our story, I would have savored each drag a little more. 

Like that moment before a bomb drops.

The sky was calm, my heart content. 

And within 24 hours all of that would be gone and I would lie in the wake of pure chaos.

come from way above

I sat at this picnic table today surrounded by tall hay.

The sun danced hot on my skin.

I don't know why in that moment but my longing for you was palpable. 

It burned a hole through my heart and dripped onto my hands.

Desire.

Not even for your flesh.

Just to breathe the same fucking air in the same room as you.

Just to look at you.

And then I wished I had love letters from you, something, anything to remember, to feel connected, to hear your voice echo in my ear, like that night I held the phone so tightly to my face, like it was you I was holding. 

Why did we not see each other that morning again? Either morning? Whatever were we thinking, dear one?

And then I remembered. 

I did have a love letter. 

I had a song. 

You spoke-sang the lyrics of the entire song, the way your voice always turned words into poetry.

If I could do anything differently I'd have recorded that conversation so when I thought I might forget I could press play and the truth in your voice would fill my room again. 

Like it did so very briefly so many days ago. 

So I pressed play on Tom Waitts instead. 

Because he said what you no longer could. 

And it was the same as looking at you.

Hearing the words you so carefully sang out. 

Did I send you the other song? The one that makes me think of you?

And this has all been good for me in some way. 

Learning to be content with so little. 

And learning to long peacefully, without it keeping me up nights anymore.

Now your image just falls asleep with me, tucked under the lace border of my sheet, my phone always on, in case you ever can't sleep again.

Sadness has been replaced by acceptance. 

With a dash of hope. 

Always hope.

I know.

I'll look into those piercing brown eyes again. 

And you know too.

The part of you that finally falls asleep with my smiling image nestled underneath your arm, the slightest lift at the corner of your mouth as your face drifts off in a smile. 

Miles apart, and somehow even more connected.

Sensing.

Burning.

Building.

Something was happening. 

Was going to

happen.

Waiting. 

Wanting. 

Wanting.

Needing.

But waiting. 

Always waiting. 

Realizing

I can only let go as much as you have.

And you want me more than you ever have.

I heard it. 

Your souls cry for mine. 

She's.... Dynamic

When it comes to Tinder I'm kind of a whore. 

Not intentionally.

Though what whore doesn't own her sexual freedom?

Maybe it is intentional. 

Just not intentionally intentional. 

Like maybe I'll fuck and maybe I won't. 

Maybe I'll just be really entertained by some poor bastard and write a blog about him. 

That'd be keen too.

I don't read the bios. 

Tinder has photos and a self description and I almost NEVER read the bio.

Whore sees a hottie she swipes right. 

Why do I care that he likes yoga and dive bars and threesomes.

Also, why does every guy on Tinder think we care he likes tacos??

So I used to read them and then I realized it didn't matter cuz hot guy with a stupid bio is still hot guy and average looking guy with a brilliantly written bio is still not gonna see my lacy panties.

So

Yeah.

So I showed up for this date with hot guy. 

There was some stupid parade going on--A parade on Friday night?? Really Portland?--and I couldn't find parking ANYWHERE and I was gonna call it, except I had like, four bumble dates flake on me and here I was finally having a tinder date come through CUZ BUMBLE IS THE TINDER FOR MEN WHO ARE AFRAID OF GIRLS and then he called me We hadn't even met and he was calling me? And he said he would come to me and we could drive somewhere else so he showed up and got in my car and we headed to NW where the hipsters drank kombucha and carried their groceries in their arms because kill hate not trees.

We seemed to hit it off right away, conversation was natural, he had an openness and rawness that I was really into. 

He was also a little intense and passionate and I wondered if the way he slightly overwhelmed me was the way I made most men feel. 

So my girlfriend thinks you're really hot, she can't wait to meet you, he said. 

I blinked. 

What?

Yeah, you will love her, she's gonna meet up with us later.

Oh. Okay. Yeah. Cool. That's cool.

I sipped my questionable whiskey and opened my mouth to start to speak then stopped. 

So. Um. You're poly and your girlfriend's your primary?

Yeah, well, I mean, sort of. She's bi and it's just something we decided to explore recently.

And how long have you been dating?

Eight months.

Oh. And umm...if you're poly how come that wasn't on your profile?

It was on my profile. 

I blinked again. 

You didn't read my profile, did you?

Whoops. 

Guess I really should read the damn bios.

That's cool, I actually didn't really mind, except this wasn't the evening I was expecting to have and now I needed to not only hit it off with one date but two. 

But okay. 

Sure. 

Why the hell not?

The night that then transpired felt like a sequel to Gardenstate but not with the cutest romantic story between Natalie Portman and Zach Braff but just the weird scenes where they're trying to get money so the gravedigger friend can buy back the jewelry he pawned from Zach's dead mother.  

That part of the movie. 

We drank a ton and ended up at someone's birthday party and then went to my date's apartment so everyone could snort lines of blow and I made a concerted effort to act like it was totally no big deal even though I'd never been around cocaine before and again, I felt like I was in some scene from some movie. 

And his girlfriend sat down beside me on the bed and said, I don't do coke either and I thought, well that's cool, we have something in common. 

I prefer prescription drugs, she said, and I nodded slowly like, yeah I totally know what you're talking about when I had no idea what she was talking about and I wondered if shit was gonna get really weird but the only thing that happened was one of the girls got really animated talking about her three legged cat and I thought that was a little anticlimactic for witnessing three people do blow.

The night went on and on and more people entered the scene and some woman told me not to trust girls with no shoes on cuz they will steal your money and some couple sat beside us and talked about the stock market for twenty minutes and I thought this was the strangest tinder date I'd ever been on and I was kinda glad I didn't just bail when I couldn't find parking all those hours before. 

And the girlfriend and I seemed to hit it off, she was sassy and opinionated and open and I liked that, and my date kept running around talking to every soul that crossed his path, the most extroverted extrovert and I laughed and the girlfriend began to get uneasy, He shouldn't be ignoring us, and I said I didn't mind because we were having fun and he was just enjoying the strangers. 

But then she stormed into the bar and spoke something in his ear that stung because the next thing I knew she was storming out of the bar and stomping down the street and I stood there on the corner confused and then my date quickly came running out of the bar and saw me and asked which way she went and I pointed and had a bewildered expression in my eyes because what the fuck.

And he stopped and he looked at me and he tenderly said, She....can be.....very dynamic in her personality.

And his soft eyes smiled and he left me standing there as he ran after her and eventually they came back arm in arm and she told us over nachos she sometimes gets a little aggressive and they were laughing and devouring the chips and I just looked on in wonder. 

Because they were both fucking nuts. 

I mean, shit, we all were. 

But they got each other. 

He handled her crazy with a delicate understanding and she let him bring her back to reality and they were so turbulent and passionate and overwhelming. 

And it was beautiful. 

And I remember walking away from what ended up being our only date thinking that somewhere out there was a man who would look into the eyes of a beautiful stranger and refer to me as dynamic, with the same fear and reverence I saw in his eyes that night. 

And that. 

Would be amazing. 

Opus 9

I stopped feeling sad today. 

Yesterday, actually. 

And I feel like I shouldn't say this, but it was kissing that stranger that did it. 

I don't know how, because he ended up being another disappointment. 

But that was okay.

Because I wasn't actually ready for anything real.

But a moment.....

Experiencing a moment with someone else reminded me....

I'm gonna be okay.

Without you.

I'll be okay living without you.

And I know in some way that's what you need.

For me to be okay without you.

I wore a dress I love today and did my makeup and my hair fancy and wore jewelry that I love. 

And I felt happy. 

I felt like myself again. 

And I didn't need to text you anymore. 

I still thought of you.

I always think of you.

But last year...

Last year you were so mean to me. 

And this year you haven't been mean once. 

You've been a selfish little shit. 

But not mean. 

Not intentionally.

Not like you were before. 

And that somehow made me feel better. 

Realizing that your behavior towards me has had a softer touch than last year. 

That means it's different. 

And I take comfort in that. 

Even if it's fragmentary. 

And feeling happy again made me feel suddenly connected to you. 

And I could hear the conflict within you. 

That you want to see me. 

But you don't. 

And you want to say something. 

But you won't. 

And I felt calm. 

Calm. 

For the first time in weeks.

Months?

And I walked by a girl I used to feel so close to today and we nearly bumped into each other and she not only didn't say anything, she looked away.

She wouldn't even look at me. 

And I just stood there for a moment in disbelief. 

Are we really not even talking?

All because she hurt my feelings and "shouldn't have to apologize?" 

And that's that?

Yes. 

Because people don't want to deal. 

Because it's hard.

Because it's scary to tell someone the truth. 

And I don't have the energy to say It really hurt my feelings when you suggested we not be friends anymore. 

And she doesn't have the energy to say I'm sorry and I really miss you. 

So we say nothing. 

And I'm supposed to think you're a villain because you aren't saying anything. 

But people do that all the time to each other. 

Because sometimes it's easier to not say anything at all, than to trust someone with the frightening rawness of the truth. 

So I'm just trusting my instincts. 

And I'm holding onto the truths I still believe in. 

And I'm letting go of the things I don't. 

And a year ago I needed so badly for you to say something. 

But I don't need that anymore. 

And I've changed. 

And that feels amazing. 

But I've changed. 

And I've lost friendships because of it. 

And that feels sad. 

And I guess that's how this all goes. 

Isn't it?

There are moments of such lovely divine bliss. 

And then they are ended. 

And we have to let them all go. 

And then there are moments that leave us for a time but find their way back, because some connections exist, and withstand all our actions to destroy it, because they just are. 

That strong.  

And lasting. 

Even when we're the only ones who believe in it. 

And I wanted you to know.

I'm okay. 

I'm listening to Chopin and sipping Cointreau & Whiskey and I'm okay. 

I'm writing and I'm making videos again and I'm kissing strangers and I'm believing in fate and I'm okay. 

I think of you when I'm alone in my room and wishing I knew where you worked so I could look into your eyes again but I'm okay.  

And I wasn't. 

Okay. 

But I am. 

And you will be. 

And we'll see each other again. 

Maybe even soon. 

Wouldn't that be swell?

An unexpected delight?

We'd nearly bump into each other passing some corner but your eyes wouldn't look away, they would peer deep into mine. 

And I would smile. 

So abundantly happy. 

On that sunny day on Hawthornish and thirty something. 

It could happen. 

That perfect dream. 

Like this perfect nocturne. 

That's placing tears in the corners of my eyes. 

Emergency Exit

We almost went someplace else. 

Isn't that always how epic nights start?

We left our usual haunt because it was a bore and we set out to a different part of town and we stopped at a dive on Hawthorne but when we looked inside it was dead. 

Let's go to The Liquor Store, I said. 

And we quickly turned around and got back in the car. 

The bar was a zoo, which was what we were wanting. 

Getting lost in a sea of faces feels medicinal sometimes. 

We sat at the bar and the distance between our bar stools could fit two men: one to stand beside each one of us and kiss us.

It was kind of ridiculous. 

Amelie was a drunk little monkey and ordered some nachos (which she loved almost more than she loved me) and I ordered my second drink of the night.

A guy to my left started trying to chat us up and I felt like we were in that awkward scene in every romantic comedy where the girl is reeeeeeally not interested but trying to be polite and the guy is reeeeeeeally not getting the hint. 

Amelie abandoned me to join the line for the bathroom and I tried to make it clear to Eager Edward on my left that I was engrossed in the David Bowie film that was playing in the background.

Eventually Amelie came back and it wasn't long before another guy approached us. 

He came in between us (I'm telling you, the distance between those bar stools could hold an orgy) and leaned forward.

Oh, don't stop talking I'm just eavesdropping.

I looked into his face and smiled. 

This one was cute.

Being hit on by a guy whose unattractive is a nuisance. 

But being hit on by a guy whose hot is another story. 

He suddenly looked into my eyes like he was seeing me for the first time. 

He darted his head back and forth and did a twirl. 

Yes. 

A twirl. 

You are WONDERFUL, he exclaimed. 

Your boobs make me stupid.

He was obliterated, it was hilarious. 

Thank you, I said. You are very drunk, honey.

He leaned in and put his face very close to mine. 

You want a kiss? I asked. 

Really? He asked back, like a little kid that got to open a Christmas present early. 

He leaned in and kissed me. 

A long, slow kiss. 

The most soft and sensual a drunk stranger has ever kissed me. 

When he finally pulled his face away from mine a big grin stretched over his lips. 

You are incredible. I have to get back to my friends downstairs. 

My red lipstick was all over his lips. 

A perfect red kiss marked his left cheek. 

I didn't say anything and just smiled as he walked away. 

I'd kissed a stranger, sober, and very much enjoyed it. 

A lot. 

Way before I felt ready to. 

Which made it even more fantastic. 

I looked at Amelie who was looking at her nachos. 

Did you see that? I asked. Did you see what happened?

Huh?? She asked, dumbfounded. 

I just made out with that stranger. Did you not see that??

Uh uh, she shook her head, and piled a huge amount of chips in her face. 

Dammit, Amelie, I can't believe you missed my epic make out! I laughed.  

She just shrugged and smiled at me with nacho in her teeth. 

Fucking hell, I loved that girl. 

I'm sick of being so far away from you, let's go sit at the table by the window.

And we grabbed our stuff and sat at a table by the door that had a much better view of the room.

I looked up and realized I recognized a face. 

He was standing a few feet away from me, like he'd been placed there by the director of my life movie for our big scene. 

His eyes caught mine and he smiled. 

I smiled back but didn't move. 

He walked over toward me. 

Oh my god, it's Glasses, I whispered to Amelie. 

And I got up and gave him a hug. 

We'd already ran into each other a month ago at another bar I never go to.

The night I saw him on a date with someone else. 

We exchanged pleasantries until I finally playfully smacked him on the arm.  

You never texted me back, I said. 

Yeah, I know, I'm sorry about that. 

Was she your girlfriend or something?

No, just a friend in town, visiting.  

We looked at each other and were quiet. 

I had a good time with you, I finally said. 

He smiled, but didn't say anything.

I'm sure I'll see you around, he said. 

And I thought, yeah, because apparently the universe wants me to keep running into my fuck buddy whose number is saved in my phone as Glasses.

I didn't fucking get it. 

But I looked amazing, so there was that. 

He looked cuter than I remembered. 

Those dashing smiles, dammit. 

Fucking get me every time. 

I went back to Amelie and told her what happened. 

I looked at him and thought how funny it was running into him, again, at the bar we went to on our first date, like the universe enjoyed bringing things full circle so much. 

And at that moment I looked up and there was the stranger again. 

The one I'd kissed in the first five minutes of meeting him. 

He looked over and saw me and smiled.

And then he walked over and sat down beside me. 

This table was the best decision I'd made all night. 

I smiled back at him and we started talking. 

And it wasn't many minutes before he was kissing me again. 

Only this time, as he slowly leaned in, I saw out of the corner of my eye that Glasses was still standing in the same spot, a mere few feet away from me, and I saw a tiny smile of jealousy flash across his face before the stranger put his lips on mine. 

And it was in that moment I kind of fell in love with the universe. 

Because being rejected happens and when it's from the kid who was your drug to get over heartache it's extra rejecting. 

Because you don't really care but you still want to be wanted. 

Especially by someone who seemed to really enjoy being inside you.

And now here I was shamelessly making out with some guy I just met in front of the bar window like the glorious trollop that I am. 

He was so stupidly adorable I couldn't believe it. 

He was a videographer and I couldn't believe that either. 

He'd been in Bend that morning climbing at Smith Rock and I couldn't believe that.

You wanna go climbing with me sometime? He asked, smiling. 

Oh my god, yes. Yes, I want to go climbing with you.

I just want to take your picture. You're incredible. You're beautiful. You're really beautiful.

His sincerity was unnerving and yet I felt like I was having one of those moments where I'd suddenly understand why I didn't get to be with the man who was so scared of me. 

Do you have a boyfriend? He asked me. 

No. Do you have a girlfriend?

Yes. I do.

It was in that moment that I came back from cloud 9 to reality and remembered that men suck and there was a reason I wasn't looking to date anyone right now. 

We are headed for a bad place, I don't know what's gonna happen. I'm sorry, I just want to be honest with you.

I should have been mad. 

But I was so grateful to have felt a connection with someone that wasn't....him......I didn't even care. 

You want to hear something honest? I am heartbroken over a guy. And it felt incredible to have you kiss me at the bar and feel a connection with someone else. 

He looked at me in earnest. 

And. My old fuck buddy who totally rejected me is sitting over there at the bar and he totally saw us making out. 

He laughed, That's fucking epic. 

Yeah, I thought, it really kinda is. 

We looked at each other for a long time and started thinking about the things men think about when they look at beautiful women. 

He looked away from me and blushed. 

You heard what my eyes were saying, didn't you? I asked. 

Yeah, yeah I did. This is bad. Do you want to hear all the things I want to do to you?

Yes. But first I want another whiskey. Get me a whiskey and then you can tell me. 

Ok. Whiskey. 

He left the table and walked up to the bar a couple feet away from Glasses.

I smiled at him and then checked my phone to make sure Amelie had gotten home okay. 

I looked up and he was still standing there, smiling at me. 

He gave me a slight wave and he just looked so fucking happy and adorable I wondered if anything was actually gonna happen or if we were just gonna spend the night continuing to be honest with each other. 

The music blared on and I realized it had actually been a little while and I looked up and figured he must have gone to the bathroom. 

And then I realized there wasn't a line anymore and some girl suddenly came out of the bathroom and I looked to the right and noticed for the first time a sign. 

Two doors were there at the back of the bar. 

The door to the left, rest room. 

And above the door to the right read, emergency exit. 

And I knew in that moment he was gone. 

It couldn't have been more aptly placed, the door, or the sign. 

It was an emergency exit for him. 

I'm sure he'd sobered up enough in that moment as he stood there waiting to order some strange girl a drink and then realizing, what am I doing?

And I don't know what the fuck I expected to happen or what I even wanted to happen but you know, it felt really fucking nice to not feel sad for a moment. 

And to meet a man who wanted to adventure with me and capture my beauty that I felt so fucking attracted to. 

Fuck. 

I paid for my one drink and the buser told me I looked really beautiful and I smiled politely but my heart was already closed for the night. 

I'm just another fantasy, I thought. 

And another epic disappointment. 

But for a moment....

For a moment I believed again. 

In connection. 

And passion. 

And timing. 

And someday some man who was so captivated by me wouldn't run away when he realized what we could have together. 

Even if all the men I feel connected to now were running far far away.

clouds that look like clouds

She looked down at my phone as it lit up.

Oooh, someone's phone is blowin up! Whose texting you? Booty call!!

And I glanced down at my phone and smirked.

No one's texting me, that's just my Instagram.

I hadn't even thought about it until that moment when she brought it up.

But I am currently talking to zero guys.

No one.

Absolutely dick free life. 

I was out at the butte the other night and saw someone almost light a tree on fire. Nearly witnessed the burning down of the butte.

Oh yeah, were you up there with a date? He asked me.

And I grimaced. No, I told you I'm off men. I'm only hanging out with girls now.

Really? What happened?

Too much pain and sadness. But that's what whiskey and cigarettes are for. 

I hadn't even noticed--had I??--that there are no men in my life. 

And there are not only no potential lovers, my libido is non existent.  

I feel like that part of my body and my pheromones has shut down. 

And I don't even know what to make of it. 

I definitely have a lot of free time now that I'm not pursuing anyone or fucking anyone or swiping left until I think my thumb is gonna fall off. 

My phone is a lot more quiet. 

There's really only three girlfriends who text me all the time and when there's a notification that I have a text I don't even bat an eye expecting it to be anyone else. 

No one unexpected is going to be texting me. 

And I don't seem to have any reserves left in me to care.

If the pain is so severe inside you do your emotions just shut off because they can't deal?

I told a girlfriend today it felt like my heart had been poisoned and the pain was suffocating my joy. 

And then I read what I wrote and thought, Jesus, that was dark.

Dark before the dawn, she said.

My little sunshine.

The only good thing to come from all this is learning that I have some of the most amazing girlfriends on the planet. 

I'm not okay.

I'm trying. 

But I'm really fucking unhappy. 

It's poetic irony because one of the last things he said to me was, I never made you happy, you were never happy with me.

And here I am, free of any spec of him in my life and I can't think of a time I've been more miserable. 

Wasn't he just fucking wrong.

But I have figured out things that help.

Writing. 

I don't even know what to write but it keeps me sane. 

And being outside. 

Today I layed in the grass on my break and just stared at the clouds. 

I tried to play the game where you imagine what the shapes look like because I knew if I could see a unicorn in the cloud I was fine. 

But I stared at the two clouds above me and I searched and I searched and I finally gave up. 

They just looked like fluffy white clouds to me. 

The part of my brain that found magical unicorns in everything wasn't working either. 

No desire. 

No sparkle.

This was a very bizarre version of myself. 

And kinda left me at a loss. 

I looked away from the clouds, feeling defeated, but I at least enjoyed the sun on my pale pale skin and I thought the times under the stars and under the sun have been the most peaceful I've felt. 

So there's that.

I have that.

And I've made these incredible new friendships that seem to have literally picked up where the girls who dumped me left off and I wish it were that simple with my love life. 

But it's so much easier for me to find kindred spirits among women than it is with men. 

I don't really know anymore if there is a male soul mate out there for me. 

I feel more love and acceptance from the women I've known. 

The men I love just don't text me back.

And I don't know why I thought when he said he would never block me again that that meant he'd respond. 

But I guess a man who runs away from me when I try to kiss him goodbye is gonna hide from any words I try and share with him. 

I hate when people don't surprise you.

There's this moment in life when you know how a person is.

When you know that friend who seemed to love you has just written you off and will never reach out again. 

And you know that man who was frightened of his love for you has just run off and will never reach out while you still want him to. 

And it's awful. 

And they're terrible. 

But then there are moments under stars with people who still look into your eyes, full of love. 

And those moments make it bearable. 

That your heart can be so catastrophically wrong. 

three is the magic number

Today I woke up and was like

GAH

Fucking morning why are you such a fucking asshole?

But determined to find my inner sunshine I put on a pretty lace dress and two of my gorgeous rings I never wear anymore--Diamonds, dahling, that's why you've been so unhappy lately-- and did my hair real good and put my red lips on and sure enough. 

I still hated everyone. 

I guess I'm just in this new stage in life where I'm no longer happy all the time. 

I've been happy my whole damn life.

A girl wrote in my high school yearbook that she thought I was fake because "no one is that happy all the time."

But I was!

And I'm battling with myself, like, c'mon, Reese. 

We can be that way again. 

And then this woman was a cunt first thing in the morning so I was a cunt back and then she sent me an email apologizing. 

And I thought, maybe being a sassy bitch instead of a Pollyanna all the time isn't a bad thing. 

I haven't really known what to do or how to process this.....break up? 

Is that even what I'm to call it?

You have to actually have an established relationship with someone to "break up."

I feel like what I'm going through is some cosmic sick joke......here's this potential love of your life but it's not going to last long enough to become anything but it's gonna come back to you and then you're gonna lose it again but not in a way that has ANYTHING to do with you and it's clear he still has feelings for you but it's over now so be prepared cuz it's gonna come back again but not when or how you're expecting so fucking have fun with that. 

So I've decided I'm gonna fuck his friend because that seems like the logical thing to do.

I don't really feel sad anymore, which I guess is good.

Just sort of uncertain about how to process everything. 

And it's also weird to me when people just up and cease communication entirely. 

You like, occasionally talk on the phone, sometimes text, and then it's suddenly--nothing, absolutely nothing, 'cept an Instagram post that's not for me but it's mostly for me but it's not about me but let's be fucking real he doesn't give a shit about social media.

Congrats on the move, jerk face. Can you tell me where I can order a sparkling water and see you in action?

That would be useful. 

But fine. 

Fucking fine. 

Blah blah this isn't fun anymore. 

I need to delete these months from my brain and I don't know how.

So.

Yeah.

I'm still trying to figure this whole thing out.

I have no idea what to do or how to do it but I feel more open to anyone and everything than I ever have in my life so at least there's that. 

No fucking clue what's gonna happen next but at least I know something will.

Cuz I definitely don't enjoy thinking about him anymore. 

And the only way to stop thinking about something is to think about someone else instead. 

I can't wait for him to find out. 

on the verge of some great truth.

I hate the morning. 

I've never been one of those people who wakes up and is stoked to start a new day. 

I'm generally irritable and don't wanna wake up. 

I hit the snooze seventeen times.

I feel loneliest in the morning.

Unmotivated.

I kind of hate everything including my cat who paws at my face at 7:30am every day even on Sunday's, fucking cat.

Ugh.

But in the evenings.....

The evenings I come alive. 

I'm inspired and talkative. 

I believe in things and am fascinated by people. 

Night is when I fall in love and climax alone and make new best friends. 

She texted me out of the blue and I actually love it when people are like, what are you up to right now this second in an hour I want to see your face and go adventuring and you were the person that came to mind right now in this exact moment.

Planning is fine. 

And I understand it's necessity especially for my friends who have such grown up lives their responsibilities outweigh their freedoms. 

But my favorite times are the spontaneous ones. 

The accidental adventures. 

The times I'm at home in my underwear and with one text I'm suddenly driving under the stars racing to see someone because drinking wine in the dark beside them is the only thing that matters. 

We met for a drink which turned into more drinks which turned into getting picked up by guys at the bar who eventually left and then turned into getting picked up by another pair of guys at the bar which turned into us both realizing we weren't interested in any of them so we ran off into the night to yet another bar and after hours and hours of silly conversation and vulnerable conversation and meaningless stories and heartfelt tales she finally looked me in the eyes and asked, Do you wanna go listen to music in your car?

So we parked on some dark corner on some dark street and put our seats all the way back and looked at the stars peering over the trees outside our windows and she picked a song and then I picked a song and then that reminded her of a song and then all of a sudden we were listening to songs I fell in love with when I was nineteen. 

And then the musicals started and I was belting in my car at two in the morning with a girl I've known a mere moment whose holding my hand and so completely present my heart is literally falling in love with her. 

And after I play her the song he spoke to me she tilts her head towards mine, the moonlight bouncing off her cheeks and asks, What if from time to time you sent him a song?

And I turned my head away from her and smiled at the stars and squeezed her hand because I'd spent the week feeling isolated and inundated with ideas from people who didn't understand my heart and nine hours together in the middle of the night music blaring in my car this girl saw my resolute spirit and understood. 

And I felt so happy I could have cried. 

Happy to feel the vast sea of love and pain surging through my veins. 

Happy to be reminded how music is really sometimes all you need. 

And happy to be holding the hand of someone who made me feel less alone, who made me feel seen and accepted. 

And it somehow made it easier on my heart to accept that it may be years before I ever see him again.