As each day passes we get farther and farther away from each other.
I used to be able to wake up and know you still missed me.
Know that I ran through your mind that day.
I'm farther away from when you put on Fear and Loathing and handed me a beer, only to take it from my hand later and kiss me for the first time.
That bond we had is gone now.
We talk every few months or comment on each other's facebook posts.
We used to see each other every day.
I miss you all the time.
I never told you that I loved you.
But I did.
I loved you like crazy

I remember a time when
I thought my dad was the greatest
dad there was.
Reading to us before bed,
always calling me sweet pea and
making sure my coat was zipped up,
or that I drank all of my milk.
Taking us to state parks,
with a packed lunch.
He always smelled of black and mild
cigars, a warm leather coat
and cologne.
But his breath held a hint of beer.
Which is why I can remember thinking
that my dad was the worst dad
on earth.
Spending too much money on alcohol,
not helping pay for my clarinet,
getting too drunk at any family
gathering and choosing to
drive.
But now, I accept him for who he is.
And I thank him for all of the wonderful things he taught me about nature, and music, and for allowing my childhood to be filled with adventure.
Now, I don't think my dad is the greatest or the worst,
he's just mine.

I’m all down in the dumps again,
I can’t escape the grey cloud that chases you down the sidewalk when you’re just trying to enjoy an ice cream cone.
So I switched to Zoloft.
All the money is gone, so is the fun.
My boyfriend is restless for a bigger city, I’m assuming he will dump me.
I still leave behind hairs everywhere I go, I don’t even have to pull them out.  
And my future is still on the same path to nowhere.
The same ****, again.
But it’s day one of this new prescription so,
who knows.

I’ve had people ask me how I’m holding it
together, how can I be okay with him leaving me to live at my parents house at 24 with no money, while I struggle to make a car payment and figure out my life.
And well, I’m not holding it together.
At all.
I just cry in the comfort of my bed
or in the bathroom at work hoping customers don’t notice my red, blurry eyes.
I’ve made about 1,000 mistakes in the past 7 months that I don’t ask for help with,
because I can’t allow myself to be a burden.
Although I am because I’m a broke 24 year old living at home.
I can’t ask him to stay because he’s leaving for family, and to make a great life for himself.
There’s nothing selfish or mean about it.
I would do it too if I were in his shoes.
I know he loves me, but it’s not enough.
So, I have to pretend to be okay or I’ll waste the time we have left.

I wonder if you remember that
summer day at the race track,
which we had all to ourselves.
I was sitting on the hood of
my best friend's car,
and thought I was going to fall off when you walked towards me.
You had no idea how handsome you were just then.
Full riding gear,
your hair a mess from your helmet.
You plucked the cigarette from my hand and smiled at me,
you knew I didn't mind.
Maybe you were right though,
from the beginning.
Maybe if we hadn't gotten emotionally,
romantically involved things would still be like that day.
We were such good friends.
But I couldn't stop my heart from wanting more.
And I guess you couldn't either.
I still remember the first time you kissed me.

I wonder if he ever wakes up
in the morning
unable to shake the memory of me.
And he realizes that no matter how
much time passes,
I will always be there.

I sat and watched my
brindle pitbull
Sophie;
as she stood over the heater,
like the she always does.
Her head hanging down,
ears flapping.
And suddenly I thought about how
one day that will just be a memory
of a dog I used to have,
in my first apartment.
That, like all other moments I wish
I could have pocketed,
this will become the past too.
Maybe, next time she goes *****
in the house,
I won't be so mad.

I'll keep having drunken dreams
about you putting your arm around me.
I lay my head on your shoulder
and you say to someone who asks,
"this is my girl."
I love that.

I would never say I'm happy that the world caught up to you.
That it slowed you down, made you double check.
But it's a relief.
To know that your life isn't all magic and adventure, drugs, revelations, and love.
Now, mine isn't either.
But I'm authentic, can you say that too?
Are you living the life you always wanted?
From here you look smaller, I look the same.
What are you going to do when all that luck runs out.

Push me up against the wall
and give me your drunken lips.
I miss the alcohol on his breath.
I can get wasted off you.

Do you know how sometimes you have this one thing that makes you happy, even for a little bit.
Like a drink. A certain kind that's your favorite. You'll drive to three different gas stations looking for it, because nothing else tastes the same.
No matter how hard you look for something else, it never measures up.
That feeling of momentary happiness is gone.
Even if one comes real close, you know it'll never be your favorite.
Well.
You are my sno berry peace tea.
You are it for me.
No matter how hard I try.

Life is hard.
But, good.
**** happens, but then the weather is nice, or you smoke some good ***.
And you move on.

Always treading through water,
that gets deeper every year.
So you tell yourself,
at least it's not over my head.

But you wonder what will happen when it gets there.

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.

I wish I didn't have to turn into an earthquake,
a trembling, shaking mess.
Simply because I don't always know the answers.