Oh, to live..

Who let me slip from the busy chaos of the world to “rest” and sit with myself in my head?
Because this is a mess.
I knew I wasn’t a perfect person and I had a lot to sort through. I knew I had a lot to unravel and figure out within myself to fill these gaps of childhood memory I’m sure are stashed away in the dark recesses of my mind for my own protection. But why? Why now? Why at the age of 34 am I finally allowing myself to look inward to search through these repressed emotions and these deep pits of mine? This hasn’t been the most fun or revealing as there is quite a bit of muck to sort through, but it is interesting to wade through this “muck” and come out with gems of realization of why I am the way.
This journey has been akin to climbing a mudslide in where the mountain’s peak is still yet to be in view.
Does that make sense? Does any of this make sense?
I guess it doesn’t have to.
I’m still a mess.

swiftie

i don’t know what is going on right now or what my soul is going through right now, but i’ve been listening to taylor swift exclusively for weeks on end and her songs are still making me weep.

2024 will be the year i figure out my triggers and deactivate them. this is the year i learn to be good to myself. this is the year i can say i’m proud of myself. this is the year i don’t give a shit about anyone else and focus on me and what i need for me and my family. this is where i prioritize us over all.

Writing Prompt Day 7

The Rocket-ship: Write about a rocket-ship on its way to the moon or a distant galaxy far, far, away.

The air is cold. Little puffs of my breath float out in a string as I look out the window.

The deep blue of the planet shimmers and sparkles like diamonds as we grow closer. The planet almost blends into the surrounding blackness of space – the only thing setting it apart being its deep blue hue. It rotates ever so slightly and a light layer of fog on the surface exudes a mysterious air in the atmosphere.

If you weren’t looking close enough, you wouldn’t have found this small Texas-sized planet. We spent years scouring the skies for this specific place. Our heaven. We’ve heard of a place where you can exist within the solar system.
And here we are.

This is where we begin to live. This is where we can be one with the stars. Forever gazing out at the revolving diamonds in the vast expanse.

Writing Prompt Day 6

Eye Contact: Write about two people seeing each other for the first time.

I look over at the boy sitting next to me in the car. He tells me about how excited he is for me to have finally taken him up on his offer to take me out for the night. He weaves in and out of the traffic, blending into the growing congestion that begins to build down K street. He stops at a light and looks over at me. He gives me a big smile and squeezes my hand. I never noticed those deep dimples in his cheek.
How have I never noticed?
I study his face, curious as to how I missed seeing all those details of his face in high school. His oddly perfectly shaped eyebrows. The way his eyes turn into twinkling half moons when he smiles. The way that dimple transforms his face to ooze childlike joy.
And this is when I first see him. Truly.
More than the boy that doodled on my Anatomy notebooks. More than the friend I watched the sunrise with after studying all-nighters.
In that moment, those dimples changed my life forever.
I wonder when he truly saw me.

Nails

Filing nails, buffing nails, cuticle clean up.. These are the things keeping me from the brink of insanity.
When work is spiraling and overwhelming, when another thing gets added to my to-do list, when I hear the kids fighting over yet another toy they haven’t played with in months.. I’ve been tidying my nails, painting them, then taking them off immediately after.

I need to find time to clear my brain and actually put things in it.

Writing Prompt 5

Food: What’s for breakfast? Dinner? Lunch? Or maybe you could write a poem about that time you met a friend at a cafe.

Life is really getting in the way of my writing practice.

The last time I met a friend at a cafe. I can’t remember, but I can tell you about the time I dream about being at a cafe with an old friend.

A small bell jingled when I opened the door. I see him across the cafe sitting in a corner booth. He was studying the menu intently and looks up suddenly as if he senses my presence. He gives me a little wave and a small smile that shows off the deep dimple on his left cheek. I smile back and make my way over to the small booth in the corner. He hands me the menu and tells me that he was looking at the eggs benedict since that is normally how he judges new brunch places., but he’s not sure if he wants to have something too heavy as he has lunch plans. I glance over the menu and settle on just a coffee. He asks if I want to split an order of a cinnamon roll with him because the waitress said it was as big as his face. I laugh and agree in indulging a bit. The waitress comes around to take our order. He orders for the both of us – 2 coffees, and a cinnamon roll – making sure to emphasis our excitement for the cinnamon roll. I smile along with him as we hand her our menus. “I’ll be right back with your coffees!” she brightly says, before she bounces off to the kitchen to place our orders.

Our knees are barely grazing one another under the booth and we’re left in silence as she leaves. We look into each others eyes with much to say and not sure where to start. I clasp my hands under the table and lean in, feeling regret in agreeing to this meal. “You look good,” he says gently, “How have you been?” The waitress thankfully interrupts as she fills our mugs to the top. She gives us a doleful smile as she notifies us know that the kitchen is a bit backed up and the order may take a little longer than normal to come out. He gives her an understanding nod and passes me the creamer while she walks away to give the bad news to a few more tables nearby. I take a few scalding hot sips from my black coffee to make room for some creamer. “I’ve been fine.” I finally respond. “Things are fine. How are you?” And all of a sudden, the once familiar feeling of sitting with a friend turns into the unfamiliar sense that I was now sitting with a stranger. “I’m okay.” he responds.

We both look down into our coffees, sitting with this new realization that we are strangers. We’re not really friends, we’re not acquaintances. We don’t know anything about one another anymore. What we once knew about one another is of the past. The way we were able to gaze into each other’s eyes in silence and know where the other was in their head. Knowing the reason behind the “good” or “fine” for the day whether it be a simple foot dip in a puddle or being overstimulated and not being able to properly cope. We finally met our gazes and we swim in each other’s brains. I see the sadness, the regret, the utter helplessness behind his hazel eyes. I wonder what he sees behind mine. We’ve known each other long enough that we know there is more to the “good” and “fine”, but we are not in a place that we can explore them. We’re not together anymore. We have no reason our lives should be further intersected – no reason to be tied together.

Surprisingly, I don’t feel pain. I thought this meal would break me all over again. But it’s not. I feel.. okay. I feel comfortable in letting go of this string that held us together. I’m ready to let go. And I feel the same from him. As we sit and sip our coffees in silence together in this small cafe, we feel at peace. His eyes that held the sadness, the regret, the helplessness shifts to acceptance, peace, and gentleness. I wonder what he sees behind mine. We sit for a bit longer, exploring the depths of our souls through our eyes while the hot coffee warmed our bodies. He finally gives me a gentle smile and thanks me for being in this chapter of his life. He leans over and gives me a lingering kiss on my forehead. “I’ll see you around.” he says as he pulls out a $20 from his wallet and slips it under his mug. I return his smile softly, knowing that we probably will never see each other again. I watch him walk out of the cafe with a quiet jingle. I see him stand outside of the front door and take a deep breath in with an even longer exhale before disappearing out of view down the street.

The waitress is still by the kitchen, staring anxiously at the poor chef who was working on multiple different orders at once. The final sip of coffee from my mug was still warm as it coated my throat. I pulled a $20 from my wallet and tucked it under my mug. Taking out a sticky note and pen, I wrote Thank you 🙂 on the table next to the mugs. I take one last look around the place that gifted me with peace and got up to close the door on this chapter of my life with a jingle.

Writing Prompt Day 4

Dancing: Who’s dancing and why are they tapping those toes?

My littles are dancing.
The music is loud and the floor is shaking.
Their little feet are stomping the floor as the beats thump.
Sometimes it’s a little too much.
Sometimes it’s all a little overwhelming.

“Mommy’s working, please lower the volume.”
“Too loud, lower the volume of your voices please.”

But this is my mistake.
There will come a time when there is no time for dancing.
There will come a time when they won’t laugh as hard as they are now.
We get such small glimpses into true joy in this life.
We should savor them as we come across them.

I hope they don’t stop.
I hope they never stop dancing.
I hope they never stop tapping their toes to the music.
I hope they never stop giggling.
My littles are dancing.

Writing Prompt Day 3

The Vessel: Write about a ship or other vehicle that can take you somewhere different from where you are now.

If you push aside all of the fears and actual knowledge utilizing this vessel, I would want to be on a sailboat.
Going out just far enough that you can’t see land and you’re surrounded by deep blue.. Absolute serenity. Watching the waves crash against one another effortlessly, silently.. Sitting in the sun as you see sparkles on the horizon and your eyes burn from the glare of the sun.. It sounds like bliss. Nothing but the quiet. The vast expanse surrounding you.
If you don’t take into consideration the fear of Poseidon’s wrath, the inability to sail, and the potential full body sunburn..
I’d want to be on a sailboat.

Writing Prompt Day 2

The Unrequited love poem: How do you feel when you love someone who does not love you back?

Broken.
Utterly broken.
You start to think about all the things you can change about yourself.
How you dress, how you talk, how to be.
How to be someone they want.
How to become someone they love.
Why aren’t you the someone they love?

As you get older and fall more in love with who you truly are..
you feel sorry.
You feel sorry for that girl who was lost and wanted to be loved,
not realizing that love was inside of you all along.
You love the way you dress..
You love the way you talk..
And you love the way you are.

Sorry to the people who didn’t love you.
They weren’t around to see the love you found within yourself.
The love that healed all those broken little pieces of yourself.
The love that shone light on some of your darkest days.
The love that helped guide you to peace.
Yes, that unrequited love utterly broke you,
but it also helped you find that very love you were searching for.

Writing Prompts Day 1

Outside the Window: What’s the weather outside your window doing right now? If that’s not inspiring, what’s the weather like somewhere you wish you could be?

Mainly because I need to write. Whether it’s nonsensical words strung together or just putting my thoughts into words, I need to put out some of the things in my head. Prompts will be taken from here.

The weather outside is pitch black. Alexa says the temperature is 33 degrees Farenheit and we can expect more of the same throughout the night. It’s cold. The ground is damp from the snow earlier this week. There are still some stray patches of snow that have clung onto the grass through the cold, but most of it has melted into the ground leaving behind a soggy dampness in the soil.

I would prefer my outdoor view to be of a snow fall. Perhaps a snow storm. The view of the white flakes falling from the sky have always calmed me. It’s a beautiful, almost magical sense of feeling it brings – reminiscent of Christmas. I’m not sure which I like more: the feeling of coziness it instills in me as I see the swirling white flakes outside in the wind while I myself am wrapped in a blanket and fuzzy socks with a warm cup of coffee or the nostalgia it brings from the wild and lazy snow days that hold many core memories from college. That blanket of white that coats the outside brings a sense that a slate is being wiped clean. Of course the fallout from the snow is never fun to deal with. The slush, the ice, the absolutely cold to the bones feeling as you trek through whatever remains is never a fun thing to handle, but in that moment.. in that moment you’re looking out of your window watching the snowflakes fall to the ground, all thoughts of the aftermath are suspended. Only the pure white is seen. Only the magic is felt.

I hear it’s going to be a cold winter here in the DMV area this year. And I am looking forward to it a bit more than I’d like to confess to.