It’s just me… The one who wanted nothing more than to be with you. Past tense.


I have wanted to write all day. I have NEEDED to write all day. I just haven’t had the time or energy to do it. I have had to pick myself up off the floor, more than once, today and remind myself just to breathe. Literally.

I don’t know how to put into words what I am feeling. Crushed/broken/shattered/alone/empty/numb/burning/dying/afraid… do I need to keep going? Probably not but I most likely will…

Today has been one of the most emotionally exhausting days I have had, well this year I guess, but seriously in like EVER. The way I felt this morning… Just thinking about it makes my skin crawl. I can still remember the cold sweat that broke out all over. The way the blood sounded rushing through my ears. The stabbing sensation in the pit of my soul. The hurt that seeped into my bones. I can remember it all. Its running on replay in my mind. Even now, just writing about it, brings the horrible feeling in my stomach. The feeling that nothing is right and it never will be again.

When we said goodbye tonight the oddest thing happened. It was like I could feel you leaving me. It felt like the strangest thing, like a tingling, empty feeling all over my body. I cab only describe it as US being torn from my soul.

Weird. Strange. Crazy. I know.

I know there is so much more to say but i don’t have the energy. My eyes hurt so bad they sting and burn. But as soon as I close them scenes of you calling her baby; using the mouth, that said so many wonderful, beautiful, amazing things to me, on HER vagina; walking with her; telling her you miss her; and every other ducked up thing that is playing in fucking repeat.

I need to sleep. I need to escape this.

I hate that you’re possibly snug as a bug, thinking of her, and dreaming sweet dreams. I hate that you talked about me, and how I wanted nothing more than to be with you, like it was a bad thing; like you were annoyed that I wanted you, while she wanted nothing to do with you.

Fuck you.

I loved you with every ounce of my being. From the very depths of my soul.

For nothing.



Laying broken on the floor….


You did it. You broke me. You brought me to the floor in a crumpled pile of tears, snot, brokenness, and ALONE.

2013 was the year of US….

HOW?! How could you do this? After everything? All I confided in you…

Fuck off…
You’re not worth it.

Your lies aren’t worth it. And i deserve LOVE. Always. If I’m right next to you or thousands of miles away…
Remember? You’re the one who told me that… Asshole.

I’m never yours.

I was.

You just didn’t think I was worth it… I hope she was.

For the record… I loved you like I’ve never loved another. And i never will again.

I was your worth it! We were put here for eachother.

Damn you.

I’m so scared. How will i survive this? How do you go on living when the reason you were sticking around this big rock is no longer yours?
I can’t.

I won’t.

And there is no one this time to save me…

Fuck you.

I wonder when I become NOTHING to you… Was it long ago? Or was I simply always nothing? I guess I will never know. The only thing I know is that now I don’t exist to you and I feel the hurt like never before.

I have never really had to hide my pain so much. This whole being at work and having to pretend like there is NOT a gaping hole in my soul is killing me. Or maybe it is the lack of you that is killing me. Or perhaps the lack of US. Probably a bit of both but it doesnt really matter, all that matters is that you arent here. You won’t be here. I don’t think I will ever get to ‘Keep You’ again and I don’t know how to process this.

I don’t know how to keep acting like I want to live this life without you anymore. I don’t know how to get out of bed each morning when all I want to do is crawl under the covers and come out on a day where US exists.

I want to go back to the days where it was just US. Where it didn’t matter what was going on in the world because I was with you, safe in US and no one could hurt me because you wouldn’t allow it.

But now, I am more hurt than ever before and YOU are the one who did it. I can’t wrap my head around it. I can’t accept that all of the love that you gave was bullshit. My head is trying to tell me so but my heart and soul won’t hear of it. There is no way that it was fake because I felt it.
I felt the love of US like I have never felt love before.

I felt you in the depths of my soul. You ignited a part of me that had never been touched before and I don’t know how to put out the need to have you now.

I don’t know how to stop the hurt of missing you from bringing me to my knees. I don’t know how to stop the tears that spring to my eyes at random times throughout the day.
I don’t know how to breathe a full breath without you by my side.
Most of all I don’t know how to let go of the love I have for US.

And I don’t really think I want to… but holding on to it is killing me.

I’m sorry.

I love you.




I’m still alive but I’m barely breathing… When a heart breaks it don’t breakeven.


I love you.


A tiny glimpse into my HELL… I can see now why you choose to stay far, far away. I would too, if I could.

I hate that when we are apart I feel like I don’t exist to you. I’m sorry I feel that way. I try to chant repeatedly in my head that just because you are busy doesn’t mean that you love me any less.

I am trying to believe said chant.

Not so lucky I have been.

Maybe if I start talking Yoda I will feel better because I am really finding it difficult to ignore the black claws of ‘all things dark/scary/morbid ‘ that are slowly creeping out, stretching their long, gnarled, fear filled fingers trying to grasp onto anything they can; screaming their unwanted words. I don’t know how to ignore them when I believe every horrible thing they screech. I don’t know how to NOT feel like a needy, class-5 clinger, when that is what I am told I am. Not by you of course. You have only ever once, that I heard (:, said something that would be considered mean but I was being a bitch, maybe. 

But I am told on a daily basis: 

  • That I am a basket case.
  • That I am not loveable.
  • That I am a bitch.
  • That I am too needy.
  • That I have no one and will be alone forever.
  • That I am not good enough.

There are so many more things I could add to the fucking list but I don’t want this to be a pity party I just want to try to shine some light on what I deal with outside of what is happening with US. And I have barely touched the tip of the iceberg, I was just talking about some of the words I hear on a daily basis, there is so much more hurt being thrown at me but this is not the place for it. 

This is for US.

I’m sorry you are having to deal with the wreckage of my life. I am sorry that I freak out and need you so much. I am sorry that when you are not here the screams get louder and more convincing and the only thing that silences them is you. I feel like as soon as you are here everything around me just goes quiet, like a huge game of freeze tag is going on and you have somehow tagged everything at once. When something tries to wiggle free you are there immediately to silence my tears and calm my soul. I don’t know how to do that when you aren’t around. 

I don’t really want to know how either. I would much rather just get lost in US and let it be. But we both know that wont happen. There is some ugly, invisible force that is making it difficult to get free. I feel like I am trapped, like I am on this emotional chain that lets me get so far out to explore and as soon as I have reached unknown territory it snaps me back so hard I can feel the jolt in my bones.  

That was all written yesterday. Before last night. Before I felt the little part of me that was left start to slip. I feel like I have been broken in ways unmentionable and that I won’t be able to hold on much longer. And I don’t really fucking want to anyways.

I would like nothing more than to just be done with what I am feeling. I don’t even know how to process what is happening in my life right now. How did I get to this point. What did I do to deserve to be treated this way? I did nothing but try to help Him beat the BLACK and this is the thanks I am given?

When I didn’t even want to help Him out in the first place? When I wanted to walk away and never look but didn’t. When I was broken beyond repair from Him and his words and, when it was at the worst, his hands. When I push away the ONE soul in this universe who loved me like I have never been loved before and will never again. When I did all of those and many, many, fucking more; this is the thank you?

He shows up at 1:30am with another female, brings her into my room, to sit and chat on MY bed. While I am in it. Trying to sleep. And then he has the nerve to tell me to scoot over so that they could lay down?


Did He seriously just ask me to move over? Right here? In my bed?

Yea, he did.

So, I said, ‘I can go sleep on the couch or one of the other beds.’ And I got up with tears streaming down my face and left the room. I locked myself into the bathroom until I could breathe again. He heard me come out of the bathroom  awhile later. She was asleep on the couch. He was headed to the other room. He told me I was ‘too fucking needy and that nothing happened so stop fucking acting like it did and go to sleep.’

I don’t remember much of what comes next. I do remember feeling you. I remember you whispering your love to me. I remember you calming me with your words and somehow I drifted off into a fitful sleep.

I woke up as early as the sun to a dead home phone and internet.

And I still haven’t heard from you. Not a text, email, voice mail, nothing. Again. After all the amazing you show you still just end up missing, like I have to post signs for you on the fucking little milk cartons from school. It makes all the amazing look like shit. And it sucks all the tingle that I recently found and shits it out too.

I need you. I’m sorry I’m clingy.

I understand if this is not your ‘cup a tea’.

A silence broken. Maybe you like my silence better. I do.

I’m back from the dead. I think. I am pretty sure I know what it feels like to die now. Or at least I now know what it feels like to beg to be done and for someone to end it. I spent days writhing in pain, begging for some one or thing to take the pain and fever away. I have never felt the pain in my joints and muscles like I felt when I was sick. I even thought someone was trying to poison me at one point.  I was ready to be taken to the hospital. Or to die. Whichever could happen fastest? And I was like this for days. I ate 5 saltines in about 3 days. It was bad. And the stress from Hurricane Black didn’t help I am sure.  I had no idea the flu could bring a grown woman to a crying sobbing mess.

Writing doesn’t comfort me the way it used to. I don’t understand why. I want to write so badly. I want to be able to feel that release I would feel after getting everything out but I can’t. And I think it is going to drive me crazy. I know that this HUGE case of block is not helping but I feel like it might be more than that.

Perhaps it is that I don’t know what to say to you. I don’t know how to ‘fake’ it here in my writing. I am a pro at flipping on the fake when needed, as long as I have my props, sunglasses and fake smiles. But when it comes to writing, well, I can’t fake this shit. When I write it is from the now, the real, the raw, and most of the times the oh so fucking ugly. And I feel like I have been so full of ugly for so long that I try to write ‘pretty’. But when I attempt to sort through the mess and pick out the good and the pretty I find myself lost in the blackness and feel like I am swallowed whole and then all the pretty is lost and I feel like I have nothing. So nothing is what I write.

I find that the silence is not even an option any longer. So there is always music on. Loud. Really loud. I avoid sitting. I try to keep my mind and body as busy as possible. Even now I feel like I should be up cleaning but since I have a load in both the washer and dryer and everything already folded and put away I am trying to convince myself that it is okay to sit here and get some shit out. So sit I am. With the music blaring. And the cursor blinking.

So shit is pretty messy here. I have been writing about it. I am just keeping them in a folder for now. Perhaps a blog will be born someday from them. But for now they will stayed buried where all things, dark, scary, shameful, and full of black belong, in a folder hidden on my computer.

I am battling this the only way I can. By the seat of my fucking pants. Fist flying. I still need to battle this beast on my own though.

I need to prove to myself that I can do this. I need to do this to prove that I am not the things I am told I am. And that I am everything I am told I can never be.

I need to find me. I don’t know where to even begin but I know that 5 years is a long time to be wandering lost and I am ready to find the way back to the living.

I am so sorry. I know you beg me to not push. To not give up. And I want you to know that I am not giving up on US. But I need to find ME and fix what happened here while I was so busy lost in US. I am not giving up though. I hope that after I can stand on my own two feet, all by myself with no help, we will find our way back to US. I in no way expect you to ‘wait’ for me. And if you don’t. I understand. But I can’t be distracted right now. And you distract me. US distracts me.

I was so lost in US that I didn’t see how terrible things were here. I was so busy lost in the tingles, the stolen breaths’, and sparkles that I didn’t see my world deteriorating around me.

So now, when you whisper your words and they fall over me like a soft blanket I start to panic. I am so scared that I will get lost in US again and the blackness will take over again and I will be too distracted to see. And we both know how easily I fall into US. Was it not just last night that I startled awake not remembering how I fell into such a peaceful slumber? I can’t allow that to happen. I don’t fall asleep with out tossing and turning and it makes it so much harder to do this alone when I am reminded of what US feels like.

I have been avoiding all things internet related. For days. If I avoid the internet I am not temped to message you. And since my cell phone has been MIA since I survived the flu from fucking hell last week and I haven’t ‘had the time’ to look for it then texting is not an option. Add that I have been avoiding this place like the BLACK fucking plague, because it is so full of black, and it appears that plan No Contact has been fairly successful.

Sorry about that. But I have to battle this dark, blackness filled, depression inducing fucking beast on my own.

I miss you. I love you. I am so sorry. I hope you understand why I have to do this.

Goodnight my Moon. Please don’t hate me.



You saved me…

Thank you. I love you. I don’t know what I would be doing without you right now. Well, actually I do and it’s not good, not good at all. I am here because of you. Thank you my Moon I love you more than you will ever know and don’t know how long you will continue to amaze me…

I don’t have the energy to say much else. Things are bad for me right now. You know. You don’t love me any less. I couldn’t love you anymore…

Goodnight my Moon. I love you. I need you.