Home is wherever I'm with you. 

And I wait and I wait and I wait. I hope something comes of this, I really do.


If not, oh well. Most of my crushes fizzle out fairly quickly. I get bored easily. 


But let's see, yeah? 

Rain Fairy

Letting the rain fall down
Washing the world away

Pitter pat
on the sidewalk, windows, face.

Rejuvinating my tired soul
Lightening illuminating
my mind.

Returning to my roots
Trying to connect with the stormy weather
Finding peace
In every drop.

Falling Down

I miss you more in the fall
Said once to me
That fall is always filled with memories for you

A haze of remembrance.
And now I understand.

The misty clouds and falling leaves
of memories
Distracting from the scenery.

Noticing nothing but
My inward seasons.

Can't seem to
Pull out of the undercurrent
of distressing emotions

Cloudy days match my cloudy thoughts.

My best friend might actually be the best of the best friends. I feel sorry for everyone because nothing their friends do can ever come close to the things she does for me. 


Beautiful Antelope, we know each other better than almost anyone. We live 13,000 miles away and we can still complete each others' sentences, think the same thoughts, and support each other.


I would be a wreck without you. 


I cannot wait for everything that is to come. Thank you for your friendship, best friend. 

It's getting easier, I think. I don't cry all the time like I used to. The loneliness is becoming bearable.

I'm still having a hard time taking it day by day, though. I just run the upcoming weeks and their events over and over in my head. I think it's because I worry like hell about being anti-social or sitting in my room night after night. It comforts me to know that I actually do have SOME plans in the next few weeks.

The worst part of my day is waking up. I feel so empty when I wake up. Sleeping is such blessed ignorance but then I wake up, realize that I don't have anyone special to text, no one who makes my heart flutter to talk to. No one to lean into.


It is getting easier. But it's still hard.

The Three People I want to Talk to the Most which just Shows how Dysfunctional I Am

1. Antelope. Who lives 13,000 miles away.
2. Mule. The ex-boyfriend. Who we all know I need distance from, even if we can make this friend thing work.
3. Spider. Roommate of the ex-boyfriend who I'm unnaturally infatuated with. Also he's an asshole. 

Yep. I have problems. 

Really I just want to sleep and sleep and sleep and wake up to find my life changed.

I know what I want. I always know what I want. The problem is nine times out of ten what I want isn't what is best for me.

But I'm a selfish, spoiled, silly little child who is constantly determined to get what she wants, no matter how it all ends out.

Maybe talking to you on the phone for an hour and a half at 4:30 in the morning wasn't the best idea. Probably not.


I can't seem to regret anything I do with you though. At least now I have some idea of why we did what we did that night. At least now I can remember what it's like to hear your voice and talk to someone who I connect with on every possible level. 


I will miss you forever. 

Remember that Time I Sat on the Rocks and Listened to the Waves Crash around Me and Felt the Sun on my Face?

And how I chose to keep that memory only for me and that devious Spider? How I actively sought to keep it from the boy I should have been sharing things with?

That is more telling than anything else.

Spider might not be (is not) right for me. We might not (should not) ever be together. But the fact that I shared infinite moments with him instead of Mule means something.

It means something that there was always a limit to what I told my Mule.

I need to search for something real again. Say what you will about what a terrible person Spider is (he really is) but he and I were real. 


It's time to look for that again. Time for real.

I can replace one love with another. I heard once (and I'm actually fairly certain Shakespeare said this) that the only way to cure heartbreak is to love more. Love elsewhere.


The difference will be that I'm replacing a false love with a genuine one. I was not in love with the boy whom I no longer have. I am perpetually in love with reading. 


Reading comes more naturally to me than breathing.


The ache is bearable when I'm focused on words on a page. 

Breakups suck.

No matter how long you were dating, no matter how serious the relationship was, breakups suck. Always.