Write A Little Love Note.

This is a work of fiction, and nothing more.

Someone once told me that love was the best thing in the world to have.

I wanted to badly to believe that for a very long time

Meeting people, hoping they were my love.

Praying they were my love.

Dreaming they were my love.

They were always my undoing.

I would cling like a leach a sucker on each end.

Sucking one dry of all he had.

I did not understand why they all left.

What wasn’t there to like about me?

Possibly the fact that I am needy, complicated, and obsessive.

I live in a la la land, a beautiful delusional land where hearts are warm and everyone wants the same thing.


I have warped my mind, obsessing it with one little tiny thing.

I have forgotten about everything else.

No one cares to see me any longer, I cannot blame them.

I am not in touch with reality.

Someone once told me that love was the best thing in the world to have.

I cannot believe Love is real.


Catch Up and Move On

Purl the right side.

Knit the wrong side.

Eighty stitches per row.

Blue yarn.

Green Yarn.

As you can tell, I’ve been doing a lot of knitting. Not many projects, just a blanket, and it’s been a really exciting project. For some reason it makes me feel really great, and I suppose that’s due to the fact that I am creating something. I am getting away from the world, and I’m making something. It’s an amazing feeling.

And maybe today I should be talking about my mom because it’s mothers day, but I just can’t do that.

So instead I will talk about knitting, or the mass amount of Grey’s Anatomy I’ve been watching.

I’ll talk about the twenty mile bike ride I went on, and how I slammed my leg into my pedal.

Today I will talk about things that aren’t so personal, because, well I cannot rip off the band-aid, and tell you all the beautiful things a survivor can say.

I cannot tell you that today is a good day, because today is an agonizing day, today I mourn what many others get to celebrate. 

I cannot tell you that I was sad the moment I woke up and realized I wouldn’t be making my mother breakfast in bed, as I’d done every year for a very long time. 

I cannot tell you that today is a day where I reflect on my pain, because today, I am soaking in my pain. 

And I don’t need anyone to tell me it’s going to be okay, no one is going to call me today and ask me how I’m doing.

I’m fine with that. 

People say it’s good to talk about things, get the sad things out of your head. I just cannot. 

My mother was a person that not many got the opportunity to meet, and I got to meet her. 

Not only did I get to meet her, but I got to love this woman. This woman who never really knew how amazing she was. I got to meet a woman who struggled, a woman who lived a very difficult life, yet every day woke up just for me. I got to meet a woman who knew what love was, who knew what family was. I knew a woman who taught me to be a woman. 

I met a woman who was taken from me too soon. Had I known she was going to go away I would have made sure she knew all the great things about her. People loved my mom, she was the one who could make anyone feel better when they felt like their world was in shambles. She would help anyone out in a moments notice, and yet for some reason, my mom had no one. My mom didn’t have anyone helping her when our world was in shambles, and it was in shambles for a long time.

If I would have known that I was never going to be able to talk to her again I would have said all the right things.

I would have told her that she was beautiful, the prettiest woman who ever lived. I would have told her that I will never meet anyone as strong as her, I will never see that fight in anyone else’s eyes the way I saw it in her. I would have said that I appreciated everything she gave up to make sure that my life was worth living, even though I only needed her in order to be happy. I would have told her that no one is ever going to be my best friend the way she was, no one will make make laugh, or cry, or scream the way she did. I would have told her that she could say anything, and I’d only be mad for a second, because every second we have in precious. 

Part of me doesn’t want to share this with you. Actually, all of my is screaming not to post this for the world to see. But then she wouldn’t be seen, and her whole life, no one saw her. No one saw that beautiful, strong woman that I loved with every inch of me, so I will not share my mother with you. 

I will share the impact she had on me. Knowing that woman, sharing her blood, her spirit, well, it’s made me into a person worth seeing. She taught me all the things no one could teach her, and I wish I could share that all with her now, but instead I will share with you. My fallen angel, turned me into something worth sharing.


Oh How The Seasons Change.

Let me apologize in advance about the lack of creative energy, and the lack of writing I’ve been doing. It is quite sad.

So a quick update on what’s happening in my life:

I broke up with my boyfriend, I’m currently working at Taco Bell (yet again), I’m not going to school, and I’m still not living on my own yet.

Not doin’ too bad, right?

Of course I’d like to have my own place, and I do miss going to school, but what I have been learning lately is more about working and money management. I may not be living on my own, but I do owe a guy $150 every month, and a phone bill I’m probably behind on. Then there’s all the stuff that I think I need but really don’t. Since the end of September I’ve spent a good amount of my time working, and making a decent penny. There something rewarding about working so much, and then getting paid, regardless of how you feel about your place of employment.

Also, I’d like to say that I may not have been writing here, but I have been writing. I started writing in a notebook in July, and it’s practically full! Though I will be honest, most of it has been journal based. I’ve been having a really hard time getting a good idea to start something on. I can write something short, and fun, but I can’t start a novel or anything like that. I don’t know what it is, I have millions of ideas, but when I attempt to expand it becomes less powerful. I feel as if I’ve seen it all before, as if I’m running around in circles. Achieving a good vibe is difficult, finding a good environment is nearly impossible. Sometimes writing feels like jumping into a hole feet first hoping you’ll land on your feet.

My Words Are Far From Truth.

“I’m okay.”

For those of you who know me, you’ve probably heard those words from my mouth countless times, but now it’s time for me to come clean.

I’m really not okay.

I try, really hard to be anywhere near okay. But in reality I’ve never felt so far from something so simple. 

Thoughts consume my mind, a lot of them being “What ifs”, I attempt to push them away yet they grab at my imagination. Every story I’ve attempted is morbid, dark, and involves death somewhere. Most people tell me: “You can’t think that way… you just can’t.”

Well what I’d like to know is how do I do this? How do I live with someone I’ve never had to live without? How can I wake up in the morning knowing my best friend is gone? By no means am I saying I want to end my life or anything, but the fact is I think I’m going through some depression. 

And today I realized something.

That’s okay.

I lost someone, and not just anyone but my mother. I lost my best friend, my biggest fan, my partner in crime. I’m not meant to be okay right now, I’m allowed to hurt, and I’m allowed to let my mind wander.

When I say “I’m okay”I realize that I say that for your benefit and not mine. Because who wants to hang out with the girl who’s “not okay”? No one, and i don’t want people to see me differently even though I’m not the same person I was in September.

And that’s just okay.