i wrote down the definition of
loneliness
and then i wrote down the definition of
solitude
directly below it,
so that i will always have some kind of reference point
for when i confuse the two.
(which is often.)

i was leaning against the wall
waiting to use the washroom
and then i looked up
and you were standing there
and a flood of joy came rushing through
the tiny cracks of my open heart,
for you were the only person i wanted to see
and the last person i thought i would ever see
in that place in that moment at that time
and i couldn’t stop hugging you
because i could see in your eyes
that you loved me, too.
Love is something that cannot be expressed simply by saying the words
"i love you" - it is in actions, often quiet ones,
that guide us toward some kind of intangible light
that we don’t know a name for other than some kind
of God. You have that effect on me, and it is a gift
to simply be in your presence. I can confidently say
that you have changed my life, and can honestly say
that you have also saved it.
I watch you
give and give and give and never run out
of love.
You make me want to grow out of my cocoon
and into
the beautiful butterfly of a woman
that you truly, beautifully, absolutely
are.
You said that i am a special girl
and i like to think that that is because
i have been touched by you.

I’d give anything to be back
writing our names in the sand
on Pensacola beach
feeling your joy seep itself
into my body as if
it were a sponge, the tide
touching my thighs as if to wish me
a safe flight home
as if it knew that the only real home
I would ever know
would be there,
with you,
as if it knew it would be
half a year before we would be able
to embrace each other again.

There is no one in this city
I can be my whole self around
and I cannot help but feel guilty
for claiming loneliness
because there are a handful
of people I could call right now
that would come over to hold me
if I expressed my emptiness
to them. But none of them
are you and that
is the greatest
tragedy I have ever known and so
I can’t help but stay here as I am,
alone.

I miss you
I miss you
I miss you
I miss you.

sad lonely restless
mind weak with old thoughts that are
more like bad habits.

I woke up this morning hitting the snooze button at least ten times and not wanting to wake up. But then I finally dragged myself out of bed and as soon as I walked upstairs I could hardly open my eyes because the sun was shining so bright.

I got ready for work, and left the house. As soon as I started walking I put on “Hey man" by Nelly Furtado and immediately started crying. Not because I’m sad, but because it occurred to me that everyday is another chance. Another chance to live, to grow, to feel the sunshine, to try and make our lives and our world a better place.

I was crying because this time last year I was not waking up thankful, I was waking up and dreading every waking moment. I was waking up and wishing I were dead.

I just can’t explain how amazing it is to wake up and feel LUCKY just to be alive. I have SO much love in my life and it is actually a miracle. This feeling of complete peace and gratefulness is so pure and beautiful and I’m writing this down so I can always remember that I felt it once. And if I felt it once, I can feel it again. Because miracles work that way. They happen a few times and then things get bad but you always remember that they will happen again. Things will be good again. And they are.
Life is good. And if it’s not good, it will get better. I am living proof.

"Hey, man, don’t look so scared
You know I’m only testing you out
Hey man, don’t look so angry
You’re real close to figuring me out

We are a part of a circle
It’s like a Mobius strip
And it goes round and round
Until it loses a link.

There’s a shadow in the sky
And it looks like rain
And **** is gonna fly once again
And I don’t want ambivalence
No more."

you’re so beautiful
sometimes I don’t think I’ve ever
seen a creature more beautiful
but then I remember how much
you hate yourself
and suddenly am aware
that you aren’t as beautiful
as you could be
if you recognized your own
beauty. Because self hatred
is not pretty. Although there is a strange
beauty in it, it is not pure.
It is not full. It is cryptic
and raw and utterly
selfish. There is beauty in that.
But not enough to make me
fall in love with you
again.

i think maybe you'll always be someone
who takes up a small amount of space
in my heart. sometimes i feel like i cannot control how
often i think of you - it's like a bad habit i turn to when i remember
that we happened once. and so i go looking
at pictures of us so i can prove to myself how happy
we were. even though we weren't happy,
but if you look at a picture of two smiling people
long enough you can convince yourself
otherwise.
you won't talk to me now, we haven't spoken
for six months. i've tried reaching out but you never
respond. i can't say i blame you, but i think it's just really tragic
that you can have such a strong connection with someone
and grow to care for them so much in such a short
amount of time - and when you don't give them what they want
from you, they all of a sudden will never
talk to you again. and they don't give you any
warning. i can't say i miss you, but i suppose i miss
the way i could make you laugh or the way we talked about
real things. maybe the silence between us just makes
me lonely.
i hope you're happier than when i talked to you
last.