August was never our month

Sometimes you have to say goodbye to the one person you thought you’d spend forever with.

No matter how much you truly care about someone, sometimes it just doesn’t work out. No matter how hard you fight for someone, sometimes there is nothing more you can do when they look you in the eye and tell you they don’t know if they love you anymore. Sometimes after you give all you have, there’s truly nothing left. Loving someone isn’t always enough.

Humans are often motivated by fear; the fear of the unknown, fear of change, the fear of ending up alone. And that fear can cause us to settle. To resent the very thing we are trying so hard to keep. How many times does the universe have to show you, if you struggle so hard to keep something, it was never really yours to begin with?

“Loss of control is always the source of fear. It is also, however, always the source of change.”
–James Frey

And then there’s the fear of facing the fact that maybe we deserve better.

When my grandma passed away at the age of 84 this past May, my grieving grandpa said something that resonated within me: “Sixty-three years I spent with her, and it still wasn’t enough.” That is the love I want. That is the love I deserve.

In the end, there is only one person you are absolutely guaranteed to spend forever with, and that person is you. So when it comes down to losing someone, we all eventually have to trust that we will make it through. And trust, that in taking care of the person you do have to spend forever with, you will welcome love back into your life.

I won’t let you giving up on me mean that I should give up on myself.

Just because you don’t love me, that doesn’t make me unlovable.

I will repeat these words when the thought of losing you makes me sad. I will repeat these words, over and over again, until they become my only truth.

I am going to be fine. I will get through this. And I will be better for it. I will find somebody out there who treats me the way I deserve to be treated, who showers me with the love you never wanted to show me. And in a few months, when you realize [again] what you lost, this time I won’t be there.

Now playing: Niykee Heaton

This chick is the realest.

In other news, I quit my job.

Well, it’s not that dramatic. Like, I put in a two weeks notice and everything. Shit just got real today because I just sent e-mails out to all my clients telling them Thursday will be my last day. In my last week of work before I start at this new place, I kind of feel like a cop a week before retirement… I’m trying to play it as safe as possible so I can leave quietly and unscathed.

The uncertainty of the future used to make me uncomfortable. It gave me so much unwanted anxiety. I’m beginning to realize the real anxiety comes from settling for one thing when you know something bigger is out there. Now I’m filled with this excited anxiousness for what’s in store for me… and I can’t wait.



I always assumed since I started writing again, that some sort of heartbreak or major shitty life event would somehow give me all of this inspiration… that somehow, I would be able to use words to get through it, and be better for it. The truth is, I’m feeling pretty empty and uninspired. I feel broken. They say when it rains it pours, and I am in the eye of the storm.

It’s an astounding feeling when someone tells you they don’t want to love you anymore. It changes the way you view the world. It’s even more hurtful when it comes at a point in your life when (you think) you need this person the most. With this month comes a lot of change in my life. A few weeks ago, my biggest concern was moving out of the apartment I have been in for the past three years and into a place of my own. Now, between that, doing it without the person I care about most by my side, paired with a best friend who’s family is hurting and a world that has so many fucked up things happen daily, it seems so stupid how worked up I got over just the mere thought of moving out.

You try to do best by the people you love and care about. Sometimes, it isn’t enough. Sometimes, it’s too much. While I can take comfort in knowing I won’t feel like this forever, right now this empty feeling is all that matters. It expands in my chest, in the pit of my stomach, in my breathing. The only part of me that isn’t empty is my thoughts, but that’s the only part I actually wish was. This feeling deep inside of me clings to the hope that it can still work out; and this other, much more prominent feeling can’t even face the idea of ever letting anyone this close to make me feel this hurt again.

What I’ve learned most from this experience is that my mind and my body are more in tune than I ever imagined. The mental and emotional distress caused by this situation brings physical pain to me. And I appreciate that interconnectedness. As twisted as it sounds, that means I’m still a fucking human. I can use one to help the other, and maybe I can be whole again someday.

Change scares the hell out of me

I think a part of it has to do with how I was raised, and part just how I’m wired. It’s like, any slight deviation from the norm causes this bubble to fester in my chest, and for the life of me I can’t seem to catch my breath.

This is the one thing that I dislike about myself.

I’m always one to say, “If you’re not happy with something, then change it.” For some reason, I am unable to change this fatal flaw so easily. I mean, I can face my fears when backed into a corner, and I usually find myself in a better situation than I was in before (go figure). But if I had it my way, nothing would ever change and I would never progress. Wow. What a scary thought. I guess that’s not entirely true. I’m a realist, so there comes a point when I recognize change is inevitable, though I still have my reservations.

This sudden self-awareness arises from a major change looming in my own horizon: I started an apartment search, after staying in my college apartment with the same roommate for three years. My current apartment is beautiful, affordable, spacious, comfortable. That word—comfortable. That has defined me my whole life. I fall into this comfort zone and if that zone is threatened in any way, stress and anxiety take over.

My roommate and I resigned year after year because it was the most convenient option either of us had, even after college ended. It turns out it’s not so convenient for her anymore, so I looked at a few places. I found one, actually, and already have a deposit down on it (my apartment search lasted 16 days because I’m a fucking boss). What was the first thing I did after signing the deposit check? Got in my car, called my mom, and cried my damn eyes out like a little pansy. Not because I thought I had made the wrong decision, but because I’m out of my element. Even after getting the validation from multiple sources regarding my decision later that day—what I thought I needed—I still wanted to burst out in tears at any moment.

They say anxiety doesn’t come from thinking about the future; it comes from trying to control it. It’s time to take a step back, have faith that everything will work out exactly the way it’s supposed to, and dive in. Worry is a misuse of imagination.

You’re allowed to let change and the future scare you, but you can’t let that fear dictate your decisions. You can’t let that fear prevent you from going for it. Even if it doesn’t work out the way you plan, it could be amazing. Without making changes, we would not be able to grow.

And anyway, in the words of Ellen Johnson Sirleaf, “If your dreams do not scare you, they are not big enough.”