I will always be an emotional *******.
A hopeless romantic, no matter how many times I've been terribly let down by the men in my life.
An adventurous soul that longs for the open road because I grew up in the Midwest where people don't leave. They just go to high school, maybe college, have babies and get married by 21.
Selfishly independent, because I've never really had anyone take care of me the way I needed.
A writer, because I'm a coward who can't correctly say what I feel.

"We are who we are."

I'm still trying to figure out how to like who I am.

If I really shut up and think about it, I am so lucky to have my boyfriend.
Because I am not a ray of sunshine all the time, usually my hair is a mess and so is my face, smeared makeup and adult acne.
And yet, he thinks I'm beautiful.
He always makes sure I get enough sleep,
and asks if there's anything he can do while I'm at work.
His friends think I'm cool because I don't mind if they come over and play video games for hours, but they always smoke their **** with me.
My best friend is my boyfriend, and I'm his too.
We trust each other so much that it isn't even a question, when I get home from my third shift job we have breakfast and then fall asleep til noon.
I love him and he loves me.
What else could a girl want.

This morning I listened to George Harrison's last album and the slow sweet strumming of his guitar sounded like summer and of course you were brought back to me.

I spent the first two hours I was awake, crying as I watched the news.
Every channel was talking about the massacre in Orlando.
I was surprised to find myself a sobbing mess, and apparently so was my dog, because she crawled up beside me trying to lick away my tears and let me hug her, but I couldn't stop.
I have no words to describe the sadness I feel for the victims and their families.
Also, for my country.
I am frightened because I know there is more to come, except there's no way to tell when or where.
It's so easy to not realize what's happening in the world, when you have every day problems that distract you from the global pain.
I wish there was something I could do, to save the people on this planet, to save my home.

Nights like these make me wish the two of us were laying in my bed,
laughing about something that happened many years ago.

I still wish I could call you, and feel better for awhile.

I don't know anymore, if this pit in my chest will ever be completely filled in again.