I wonder if it’s total cringe that I write these words to a you that no longer exists to me. I speak to you as if you are my lover; as if you’re out there somewhere reading them and taking some kind of comfort in them. As if you’re sitting around waiting on me to talk to you. Sometimes I think I should write all this in a private journal and not out in the open to you. I know you’re not reading this now but if you ever happen to come here again… I’m afraid this will scare the shit out of you. Or at the very least, make you cringe and breathe a sigh of relief at the bullet you dodged. I mean, ol’ girl over here has lost every last one of her marbles, amiright?
I hope you don’t mind that I call you ‘baby’ sometimes.
You’d totally be my baby by now if you hadn’t gone away. Don’t worry, I’ll hold the position for you. There’s no one here who can even come close to filling it anyway. Hit me up when you get back in town, ok?
Just walk right in through the front door.
You don’t even have to knock
Kiss me first
Soft then hard then crazed
Yeah, that’s better
Now, go sit down
Dinner will be ready soon
I missed you
Want to hear about my day? It was long and I was tired. I was mean to an employee but I apologized to her right after. Does that count? I wasn’t super mean but I was very short and used my “hard” voice with her. What a bitch. I’m sure she texted her bestie and called me one. It’s ok. I deserved it. Later, I cried for no good reason other than I’m tired and I’m depressed and I’m ready for Christmas to be over but there are more people trickling into town tonight and through the weekend. I really love these people that are coming but I’m just kind of over it all. Truthfully, I’m sick of all the holiday food and smells. I don’t want to even make eye contact with another cheese ball and if I have to inhale anything else cinnamon or evergreen or sugar cookie, I’m going to vomit. Bring me some coastal salty air for my plug-ins. I’m done with the holiday scents now.
What else happened today? I attempted to take a nap but my phone rang, then the little boy down the block came by to play with Max, my dogs started barking at a leaf blowing around on the back porch, and Skittles jumped on my chest and stared at me for a while. I finally got up. I spent some time looking at my treadmill and thinking about sweating away my blues. It usually works and keeps them away for a while. She was calling to me pretty hard but my throat is feeling a bit scratchy and sore so I ignored her. God, I hope I’m not getting sick. It’s 5 o’clock now and I’m going to cook salmon for dinner. What should we have with it? I might make a stir fry. Or maybe just a salad? I haven’t decided yet.
What a super fun day. I know you really hate you’re missing out on all this. I already told you I was basic and boring so I can’t be held responsible for the way you feel about me. It defies explanation. Let’s not think too much about it. Let’s just accept it and move on.
“the art of mending broken objects with gold. It embraces breakage as part of an object’s history and makes it more beautiful in its imperfection. These pieces become stronger, more beautiful, and more valuable for having been broken”
You were radiant to me.
You still are.
I have so many broken pieces. Do you want to see them all?
I’ll show you every single one.
Let me see yours too.