The Diary, Chapter One

She flopped on the bed and laid still for just a moment. She pulled one leg under the other and stared up at the ceiling.

“Thank goodness today is over,” she mumbled under her breath as she rolled over to grab her journal and pen out of the nightstand drawer. Before she knew it, she was scrabbling desperately on the page.

Dear Diary,

Ha! How lame does that sound? Like I’m some teenager from the 80’s writing love notes in a book. No. We aren’t going to be doing that in this book. I guess I shouldn’t start each entry with that moving forward.

Anyway… Tonight I feel like I’m bottling. Everyone always says ‘I always hold everything in for so long until I break!’ and I don’t want to break, so I just need to get this shit out. I can’t breathe because I have so much anxiety taunting me inside of my head. I wanna be the person that uses their art for decompression. So here are these words.

Being written in order to sooth a soul that currently sits unsettled.

How can you claim to love someone if you continue to relapse back to the thing that tore you apart?

How aren’t we enough to make you stop?

I try to understand. I try to be empathetic to the fact that not everyone is raised with all of the advantages that I was. I try to sympathize with what has been overcome. But sometimes

It’s just not enough.

Your claims get countered every time you relapse. I lose trust in you every time I hear the latest stunt you’ve pulled. I hear. It makes me sick. It makes me angry. It makes me lose hope.

You have no idea the impacts of your actions, even to this day.

I was once a child distraught with heartache and resentment and misunderstanding. But now I’m an adult with disdain, apprehension, but most importantly, disappointment.

I can’t trust you.

It’s been seventeen years.

And you still don’t have your shit together.

And I’m just supposed to believe you’re telling me the truth?

Like I said, I was once that child. But I’m not that child anymore.

Seedlings

It’s so weird to think

that just a few months ago

this beautiful plant

was just a tiny seed.

It was hiding dormant

in a shell,

but then it emerged

and now it lives.

Growing, reaching

for the sun.

Reacting to stress and

its environment,

breathing

surviving

thriving.

What was once a seedling,

is now just trying to live.

I relate to the cycle.

Life is flourishing

all around us.

This is a jalapeño plant we’ve been growing this year. We’re new to gardening, but hoping to grow more every year!

This fresh sweet mint is going to be amazing! Super excited for this beautiful plant!

An Angel on Earth

Her smile lights up a room

Her wide smile pierces my soul every time

How can this perfect of a being

be standing right in front of me?

How lucky I am to be blessed

with such grace in the form of kin

She’s more than the barefoot child

running down the sidewalk,

wind blowing through her blonde curls

She’s the warmth you feel in your blood

as she wraps her arms around your neck

She’s the sun and the moon and the sea

and a mixture of everything that shines and glows

She’s the rain that cleanses

and the trees that dance in the breeze

How can I not sit and admire her?

She radiates purity and

embodies a free spirit

A true angel on earth

Contradictory Cups

Some days I feel like I’m on cloud nine.

All of the scenarios I planned in my head

go through just as they should.

I’m flying through the air,

too high to care about the fall.

Smiling and laughing and playing

and hoping and forgetting and dreaming.

And then I get back home and

I realize that nothing had really changed.

The pain hadn’t gone away,

it had just been masked.

My cup was still so very close

to being empty,

even though it was just so full.

I’m still tired and I’m still angry.

I was happy a moment ago,

but now I’m questioning if

happiness is something I’ve ever really felt;

or rather, something I’ve made up in my head

in order to give myself the strength to keep going.

Was that laugh that overcame me

really as pure as I believed it to be?

Was that tug on my heart

really love pulsing through me?

Or was it just my imagination?

How can I have one cup so FULL,

yet so empty at the same time?

Am I allowed to appreciate the happiness,

even though I have so much indignation inside?

I’m contradicted.

Confused.

Dubious.

How can this be so?

Life is so amazing and bright

and marvelous and alluring,

yet so daunting and fearful

and jealous and painful.

Here I am.

Holding one cup,

yet I can’t decide

if it’s full or empty.

The contradictory cups.

Just another puzzle to solve.

EOD Thoughts: 03.23.2021

When we were kids, my uncle would take all of us out to the garage to watch a big storm roll by. We just so happened to live south of what seemed to always be the path of the storms. So we would get our lawn chairs and flip cell phones out and have a fun night.

Times were so much more simple back then. We would laugh from the adrenaline running through our bodies – being so close to a storm yet so far away, you never know what could happen. We would gather around the weather radio and listen to where the rotation of a tornado was spotted. The garage was facing the right direction to see the storm go by and not have rain blowing in on you. There were no true worries back then. Those were the nights we were the closest. Those were the nights we came together. I wish I could get those childhood memories back. Now we’ve all grown up, split apart, and started our own families.

Tonight my own little fam sat in the garage and listened to the radio forecasts and watched the storm roll in. It was nothing too serious, but it did make me feel happy to share memories like this with the family I made. It connected me to my roots, and I’m thankful.

“I wish somebody would tell you you’re in the good ol’ days before you’ve actually left them.”

The Joy of an Empty Fruit Bowl

A child has the power to make you chuckle even when they aren’t around.

My daughter’s latest scheme to make me giggle throughout the day was to steal all of the fruits from my decor bowl on the table.

I noticed the bowl was empty this morning so I texted Dylan, figuring he had just moved them to keep Della out of them.

But to my surprise, he didn’t know where they were either.

It’s moments like this that remind me how special and ornery and creative and funny my daughter really is.

What a blissful reminder. It made me smile.

So I went to her room figuring that she had the fruits mixed in with the plastic fruits for her play kitchen. I looked in every drawer, the fridge, under her bed, everywhere I could think.

Couldn’t find the fruits for my empty bowl.

This girl is real funny…

Life is full of beautiful and funny moments that remind you how great life can be. Take the time to enjoy them 🤗

Even if your kid steals your decor for fun 🤩