I threw that stupid bracelet out the drivers side window as I sat in the parking lot of the liquor store.
I was hoping that someone would come across it and not know it's history.
Maybe it would be found by someone happy, or a little kid who spots the beads spread out on the concrete.
Or maybe it would just get crushed by the tires of a car.
I went inside the store, bought what I came for... And then walked over and picked it up before driving away.

Tonight the moon is just a sliver, I don't remember what that's called.
Everyone is either sleeping or working and going about their lives.
While I am horribly heart broken.
Just ship wrecked, stuck against the rocks getting beat by waves.

I told him that I thought I was lucky.
Lucky. I thought I had found that person for me that the movies have convinced me is out there.
The one.
But somehow, now, I am the most unlucky ******* earth.
The boy I want more then I've ever wanted anything doesn't want me.
Ever.

I thought I was falling into joy, and cozy sheets and love when really I was tumbling into a black hole.
I am so empty now I don't want to live.
Just the other day I was so excited for the future, with him.
I will always be alone.
Just like the moon.
Surrounded by stars but never gets to touch them, never getting to feel the heat that could make me happy.

I looked in the mirror and all I saw was misery.
That happy girl with the happy glow is gone.

I drove to the edge of the highway.
A place I haven't been to in 5 years.
The only proof I've been here will be the L&M cigarette butts left behind.
The sun is setting and the sound of passing cars going about 70 miles an hour fills my ears.
I can barely hear my Spotify playlist.
The weather is perfect and I've got a buzz.
It's not so bad right now.

I just want a fresh start,
a new beginning.
I found a great apartment today that I am moving into on September 1st.
But I still have baggage from my old life, my past relationship.
I got stuck with the dog and I can't take her with me when I move so it's my problem to figure out what to do with her.
But my heart hurts at the thought of putting her in a shelter.
I wish she was with my ex or that this was his problem.
Tomorrow I am going to make some calls and see what I can do but I wish I could figure it out right now.
I've been pulling out my hair all night worrying about it.
But I am ready to let her go find a better home and for me to be able to start over.
I need this resolved ASAP.

All of this is brand new to me.
How he opens doors so I can walk through first,
talking about meeting my dad and how it's important to him if he's well received.
Going on a pizza date on a work night.
Someone to listen and care and try to help.
And that last kiss when the date is over that leaves me filled with butterflies and a smile that lasts for hours.
I'm just feeling lucky lucky lucky.
Whatever we are right now, I like it.
So much.

There is almost no compliment that feeds my soul more then hearing that someone thinks I'm funny.
It makes me feel brighter then being told I'm beautiful because you never forget someone who could make you laugh.

I've been turning the heat on in the car on smoke breaks.
69 degrees now feels cold.
I always get so exhausted after my brain spirals and washes down stream.
It's like it catches on fire or spins really fast,
and then when it cools off I can barely keep my eyes open.
I almost texted Dan and told him some stupid **** like I loved him and hated myself.
And I almost texted Sam and told him I understand why he tried to **** himself.
But luckily, thank god or whatever it is, I didn't.
But now my break is over and I have one hour left until I can go home and smoke a bowl and dream of being someone else.

I want to delete every picture from my Instagram because I hate myself.

I've still got that nervous pit in my stomach.
He invited me over to see his new place.
I went about an hour before I had to go to work.
My stomach was ******* in knots the whole way there.
I actually parked in the Walgreens parking lot just to give myself a minute.
Repeatedly out loud saying,
Oh my god, oh my God!
Finally I mustered the courage and drove to his house.
I waited a second to see if he would come outside but he didn't.
So I knocked.
He opened the door and said,
"Oh hi! Come in."
He began saying it was still a mess and hasn't fully unpacked.
Of course he looked so good.
Really tan from being outside all day, he was wearing a white cut off and basketball shorts.
I glanced around and said,
"How exciting! I like it."
Then I blurted out that I was nervous.
He said, "yeah it has been a long time since we've seen each other."
I first noticed the built in book shelf in the living room, newly painted white.
He didn't have a lamp so the only light was from a candle and the curtains being drawn a bit.
I sat across from him in a chair, he was on the couch.
He asked if I wanted to smoke even though I had to go to work,
and then he laughed a little and mentioned that he could finally teach me how to roll a joint.
We sat across from each other on the floor and he laid out the **** and some papers and began talking through it.
I was sort of successful, but I insisted we use his paper to smoke.
I was beginning to feel relaxed but time was running out.
We talked a bit about music and he showed me the rest of his house.
Then he asked me,
"Are you really gonna go to work?" And smiled.
I laughed and said, "yes."
He said alright and asked me to come back sometime and help him decorate his place.
I noticed the time and told him I had to go.
As he opened the front door he said,
"I wish you didn't have to leave."
I smiled and said, me either.
Outside he excitedly showed me the marijuana plants some one before him had planted and left behind.
He offered one to me if I wanted.
I just said, I'll think about it.
I began to walk away but turned around and said good bye.
He did too.
I got into my car feeling ******, and jittery.
I can't believe I was in his house.
I can't believe he wanted me to stay.
Then I drove to work as the sun was setting.

After therapy today I opened Instagram and saw he had sent me a video.
It was of him, shirtless; (his job is roofing) although I could only see his shoulders, in a car.
I couldn't have smiled more.
I sent him a photo of me sitting at the dining room table when I got home.
This began a few hours worth of sharing photos and little videos of what we were doing through out the day.
I went to the laundry mat.
He was on lunch break.
I left the laundry mat.
He began working again.
I went to the grocery store.
He was taking a break.. without a shirt again.
Then he sent a message that said,
"Cutie."
And my brain turned into a teenage girl and squealed with happiness.
Gross, I know.
We continued to message a little as he got home from work and I went to get ****.
Now I'm at home having already had one glass of wine and now I'm having a beer, hoping to hear more from him, or maybe receive another picture.

Each hair I pluck from my head feels good; well satisfying at the time.
Until I look at it in my fingers.
I can see where my natural hair color ends and where the blonde begins.
I run it over my fingertips and then drop it off to my side.
Time to find another.
And another.
Until I realize in a panic that I have just pulled out even more of what was left of my bangs.
Perfect.
Let's see if I can figure out how to cover this up, or maybe this time I can't.
What then?

I'm tired of all the ****** idiots
on Facebook who call ****** addiction
a disease.
I'm sick of all the thirsty creeps commenting on single girl's statuses and then watching that girl play along.
Get some self respect.
All the dog face snapchat photos that hoes post,
oh can't forget the duck face that needs to die.
The racist Trump supporters saying some ******* about Obama.

I don't know why all of this affects me the way it does, but I wish it didn't.
Social media is ridiculous.
Some days I want to delete it all, but then I'd just be staring at the walls.

It's quite frightening how quickly
courage slips away.
One day you turn a corner and realize
that it isn't with you anymore.

How easy it is to forget how to
just breathe and brush off your worries.

When you wake up covered in responsibility, and priorities
instead of confetti and new clothes.

Parents always say you grew up before their eyes,
but haven't we grown up behind our's?

When I hear that old school guitar
on the radio
as I'm driving with a cigarette
in hand,
I get that care free teenage feeling.
Tasting the rebellion,
and I remember what it's like
to really have no worries.
To feel free.

I miss wrapping my arms
around you under neon lights.
The smell of your t-shirt when my nose
was pressed against it in bed.
Watching the trail of cigarette smoke
sway side to side during deep conversations in cars.

I can still hear the roar of the highway,
at 7 a.m that June morning.
It blended in well like an oil painting;
next to the sun, The Beatles, and your smile.

Ya know....

I could really use one of those,

long talks right about now.

The quiet ones.

I no longer sleep at night.
I take long naps in the afternoon
that go into late hours.
I smoke cigarettes, watch Netflix,
and eat chicken noodle soup in bed.
It really messes up my opportunity
to get anything done during the day.
But somehow I still managed to get up
around noon to meet my dad in a bar
across town to give him the money
needed to pay for more oil to heat my house.
I always have messy hair,
and I try to stay in my black sweatpants as much as possible.
This is my life as a third shift employee.
It's not glamorous, more dysfunctional.

I am so ******* depressed
that I now have what you'd call
functioning depression.
It just never goes away, and I still
have to pay my bills, so.
I sleep all day
and when I'm awake I stay in
my twin bed under the covers,
and watch The X-files or Bob Ross
on Netflix.
I barely take care of myself, which is probably why I have a cold.
Showers are rare. And shaving is too.
I don't have the money to even leave my house, nor do I have friends
to spend time with.
Without my boyfriend, I'd be alone.
At this point I feel that I will be this way for the rest of my life.
Working to work, with no end in sight.
The fact that I can function is a miracle,
because I certainly don't want to.

It's interesting to watch people my age, who have come from
"broken homes"
trying so hard to create
the perfect family.
Only to realize why their parents
eventually separated.
Because even though you should
put your child first,
you only have one life to live.
Who knows what happens after you die.
And aren't two happy people
better than an angry household?
There is no such thing as "perfect"
anyway.