winter has left and it took him with it,
along with my sanity and understanding.
and you would think spring would bloom flowers,
but i only see myself wilting and shaking.

winter may be gone, but the winds inside of me are still screaming;
more often than not i'm left clutching my heart in the middle of the night
crying because the rain of spring never really did make it's appearance,
and I'm lost.

There's something about the smell after the rain;
you know, the kind where all feels as if it's been washed away
and made new again? That's what I needed.

Droplets formed on the windows of the car,
as did they on my cheeks while his arms wrapped around me;
his head resting on mine like clouds during rain or shine.

Tonight, I was a thunderstorm.

He was always my rain;
sometimes he was a drought, sometimes he was a weekly storm;
but he was always my rain.

My sorrows were puddling into my hands,
my mind the heavy fog of a late March night,
and my heart a huge pothole in the middle of the road.

It's 12:45 and my clothes smell like him;
it's the smell after the rain;
didn't think I could drown in so many ways.

I'm stuck in the rain,
but i wish it was his cloud.

NJ2015

I want to write you you more
Because you are the one I adore
You are a best friend to me
And a lover
I'll kiss you free
Of pain, stress, and anxiety

I think of you as a friend
Of course I will defend

I'm going to bring you on dates
I'll bring you flowers
But more importantly
I'll be here, smiling
And giving my all
To catch you when you fall
In love with me again
And lift you up
And kiss you when you stand tall

I love all the memories we share
And I don't want them to end
For you are my best friend

To a once close friend and a loved sister,

        I feel like I should miss you more than I do at this point in my life. I suppose after the year of drinking I have put us through, the 'us' I knew so well caught on fire and is now a pile of ash. I've managed to collect as much of it as I could before it was swept away, and I keep that in a safe place buried deep in the center of my heart.

        In those ashes are some of our fondest memories we spent together, almost always laughing and having a grand o' time, but now that all feels so distant, like it was many years ago. Sometimes it even feels as though I am remembering a great dream I had, or someone else told me a vivid memory that they shared with someone they called their best-friend, and I wanted a bond like that so much my mind convinced me it was really something I once had.

        It kills me inside to even think about how much I pushed you away but i'm doing what I can now to earn the right to even call you a friend. I know most of the time after this disease consumed my thoughts daily, and I moved out, it seemed as though I stopped caring about you and the friendship we spent our entire life building didn't matter anymore, but thats not the case. I can promise you that much. I understand if you chose not to believe me, because I am a liar, a thief, a cheat, an *******, but most of all an alcoholic. I'm in AA now to learn to change my ways of thinking and to learn what truly caused me to make the decisions I did. I know I need mental help, that much is obvious, and I did choose on my own to get sober and find the help I needed all along.

        My drinking after Chris left me increased drastically, to the point that I couldn't even get out of bed without being in morbid pain and shaking violently, unless I had alcohol to chase down my throbbing throat. At that point I had lost complete control of myself and I didn't really care about anybody but myself. At the same time though, from my understanding at least, you could've forced me to get sober and I would've received the help I needed and shown why what I doing was wrong, yet you deliberated chose not to. That says a lot to me, probably more than you realize. For I know if it had been you in the shoes I was walking around in, I would've used casey's law. You could tell just by looking at me that I was sick, and unable to change on my own. I literally was skin and bones and puked six or seven times a day, I know there is no way you didn't see that at least a couple of times.

        Knowing all of this brings tears to my eyes. It is the reason now why I still don't talk to you much, or really even attempt to keep you up to date with whats going on with me. Yet, at the same time, maybe thats just me being spiteful, I truly can't tell at this point. I do know I miss you quite a lot, but i'm not sure if i'm ready to look you in the eyes after all that has happened, at this point in time. I don't deserve your forgiveness but that doesn't mean I don't want to make amends. Maybe, someday in the future, we will call each other the best of friends, like we did when we were younger, and make more time for each other.

         Until then, I will carry those precious ashes in an air-tight jar,
                   with my chin up, proud of what they stand for.

                                                      -love your sister, the daydream girl

How much do I write
to tell the world how beautiful you are?
How many words would it take
to describe your compassionate soul?
How long do I speak for
to let them know how precious you are,
to me and to the world?
How incomplete would I be
to not find home in your embrace?
*Without you, it's always so cold

I wake up and take a deep breath but most days it barely helps to ease the sharp stabbing pain in my heart.
I get up and stumble to the bathroom where I’ve written “Cheer up, Charlie” on the mirror to remind myself that all is not lost.
But when I get there, my head is hung too low to see the mirror and the words that are meant to support and encourage.
I get dressed slowly but not because I care about what I’m putting on.
Most days I grab something from the hamper and make sure it’s not too smelly.
By then my morning ritual is almost done.
I’m just missing one last piece.
I look up at the clock and take another deep breath.
Here goes nothing to start and get through another day.
With that breath, I slide the mask into place and walk out the door to go to work where no one will notice the pain, the sorrow, the brokenness.
The mask is my savior, my hiding place, my peace from all the chaos, for even though I know what it hides, I choose to be disillusioned by it.
I choose to see myself as whole, as untouched by you, as loved, as happy, as friendly, as…as me.
And for twelve carefree hours in my day, I can believe the lies I’m telling to the world:
That I’m ok even though you’re gone.
That I’m just fine even though the person who said they’d never go abandoned me too.
That I’m fit as a fiddle even though this ulcer is eating me from the inside out and I just don’t care because you don’t either.
That I’m happy living on my own even though I confessed to you all my fears of living alone, but that didn’t stop you from up and leaving.
That I’m strong enough to pick up the pieces of my broken heart and somehow put them back together even though I don’t even know where all the pieces are.
But then the end of the day comes and I find myself standing in the middle of my bedroom again.
I begin the evening ritual with dread filling every pore of my being.
I change into my pajamas, I brush my hair, I wash my face.
And then I take off my mask.
That last piece.
I fall on my bed exhausted from the pretense of the day.
I fall on my bed exhausted from holding back the tears all day.
I fall on my bed exhausted from missing you.
I fall on my bed exhausted from still loving you.
And then I cry.
I cry for the girl who never knew the life she dreamed for could be this painful.
I cry for the girl who thought she had finally found someone she could rely on only to find her judge of character was grossly wrong.
I cry for the girl who wanted many things from life but now would give all that up just to have you back.
I cry for me.
I cry for you.
I cry for us.
And then in the midst of my crying, I sleep.
I sleep with dreams of you and me.
I sleep with nothingness.
I sleep only for a short while as has become my habit.
And then I wake up and take a deep breath.
A deep breath and it begins again.
Did you know?
No?
Well…now you do.