It is coming

One day, you will radiate. You will exude happiness, you will vibrate on a different frequency.

Hope will move from a far away place and plant its roots in your bones. You will tremble with meaning and intent.

The smile on your face will not be fake, the laughs will be authentic and they will hurt your stomach.

The drinks will be sweeter, and not be as necessary.

You will breathe again, inhaling love instead of smoke.

Hold on tight; the day is coming.

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Thursday in May

Today I want to drink orange juice and dance to indie folk music.

I want to drive with every window down screaming. I need the rain to come, I need fifteen minutes to close my eyes and breathe and tell myself everything will be fine.

I would like a whole grapefruit and a deep stretch. I feel like wearing a lot of jewelry and dark lipstick. I want to diffuse lemongrass and eucalyptus while I fold my laundry.

I need to read articles and make lunch, feed my brain and my body. I want to tell my mom that I love her. I want to have a cigarette under the moon and then, I want a long, deep sleep.

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The morning after

Today has been long and it’s only 10:15 am.

My heart feels like it’s been stretched out. It’s full but tired – as if it’s been running.

How fantastic it was being with you in your space again, sharing kisses and little smiles, smelling your sheets.

It’s always been so easy to lean against you, but this time it feels different.

As though I am heavier,

but brighter.

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Things that keep me from sleeping

I wonder if you ever noticed that I chew on my toothbrush until the bristles stick out sideways. Or if you ever saw me drooling while I was sleeping.

I wonder if you remember the day I took those pills and didn’t answer my phone and you were so worried. Or the time my anxiety was out of control in Trader Joe’s and I hadn’t taken my Lexapro and you had to talk me off my ledge.

I wonder if you remember the way my hair smells or the way I clean countertops or the way my legs feel tangled with yours.

I can’t wait to see you.

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Being sick on Saturday should be an actual crime

I’m looking out the window at the sun peeking through the clouds from my damn bed where I will probably be all day. My whole body hurts, I have a hacking raspy ass cough and I can’t even really smell the eucalyptus I’ve been diffusing all morning or taste my Jamba Juice. The misery is real and palpable over here folks. I should be out day drinking or something.

BUT! Being the big walking cliche that I am, I’m choosing to examine and highlight the positives of this situation and list them to make myself feel better and refocus my energy.

  1. I’m finally going to finish Mad Men. I stopped watching the show after my ex and I broke up because we used to watch it together and I was avoiding any and all reminders of the relationship, as one does. I also couldn’t keep slamming dirty martinis and smoking cigs inside, which every episode would trigger me to do lol. But now, I have taken the show back and am almost done with season five which I’m really enjoying. Megan is a babe, Peggy is still one of my favs, Joan is back and Don Draper is as hot as ever. Pete Campbell: still a douche bag.
  2. I have hella time to internet! I plan on making a few playlists, putting together my Instagram that I’m going to link to this blog, answering emails I’ve been putting off and then probably read some missed connections on Craigslist because it’s a favorite pastime of mine.
  3. Naps. I’m thinking at least two. Nobody gives you shit for napping when you’re sick. And honestly, anyone who gives you shit for napping when you’re not ill shouldn’t even be in your life. Snip snip, cut em out, everyone is entitled to a guilt free nap.
  4. I’m also going to organize my bookshelf and pull out some stuff I want to donate. I have a Barnes and Noble gift card that’s been burning a hole in my wallet since Christmas so I’m gunna make some room for new reads.

Please though, send some healing vibes my way y’all. I could only come up with four positive things and am really not trying to do this again tomorrow.

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Dive Bar Princess

We are huddled around an old lacquered wooden table in a tiny cramped booth, surrounded by denim jackets, pool tables and sweaty long necked Miller Lights.  Chipped black nail polish on my fingers, I run them through my hair that is of course dirty, for it truly is all in the details.

The conversations are loud and bold, the crowd is inoffensively rowdy and I feel very much at home, cigarette smoke drifting in and out of my nostrils with the opening of the back door.

It is a beautiful balance of exposure and intimacy, and I am soaking it up like the ratty ripped bar towel cleaning up after the douche bag who spilled his Fireball shot.

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