“This emotion frustrated confusion is it all an illusion…Will I wake up to a harsh and empty space? His devotion lies in someone else’s arms, and I am just an outsider trying to save face. And it’s hard, and it’s slow…Wanting to be all he wants, knowing that’s not how this goes. And it’s false, and it’s weak…There’s nothing to be said now, but in our silence, we’re both aching to speak… And I’m stronger than this I’ve been through this before, but what’s one more lesson when the stolen moments are worth living for?”

Oh man… I don’t even know where to start now. As I’ve said in the past, when I’m not here for a long amount of time, I’m usually off making bad choices.

This time, however; I thought I was making a good choice. I met a boy. And I went ALL in. No researching, no doubting, just 100% all in.

And man….Did I fall hard.

20 days, 1,000’s of text messages, 4 full days, and almost 48 hours of phone time together. And here I sit. Alone.

I know that you are probably thinking, it was only 20 days…But have you ever had that moment? That holy shit, this is really happening moment? Because, I did. I found the my soul has found a match, you feel like home connection. That’s what I felt, the moment I got out of the car for the first time. He was just standing there, staring at me with the impossible grin on his face…and my breathing just-stopped.

A week ago all of those things came crashing down when he told me he was in love with his best friend, and that he had been waiting for her for two years. He said that he would always wait for her. He said that she didn’t want to be with him…but in that very moment I knew, because I had been in her place-she would fight for him. When you keep someone on the line for so long, losing them seems almost as impossible as loving them wholeheartedly does. When you keep someone on the line, they are your comfy beanbag chair-and you don’t ever want to lose it.

And I was right, she did. Fight for him.

Hence, my opening quote. I am just an outsider, trying to save face.

We spent the weekend together, because he wanted to give me a shot and it was amazing. No, scratch that-what is the word for greater than amazing? Because that is it. Fast forward to Monday morning at 1:30, he calls and tells me he’s made his decision. And he was picking her.

My heart shattered on the ground and I felt a pain that I hadn’t felt in a long time, maybe ever. I guess you could say though, that each time your heart breaks it breaks in a different way. I can’t describe how it felt, all I can say is that I can’t stop crying, I can’t eat, I can’t sleep.

In my full on masochism, I decided to stay friends with him. Rather, I convinced him to stay friends with me. He wanted to delete my number. And in some ways, that hurt almost worse than him saying that I wasn’t worth enough for him to jump ship and be happy.

How do you get to the place where you genuinely want someone to be happy, and know that in order for that to happen, they have to do it without you?

I know in my heart of hearts that it’s best to let him go, and if I do it now, I can save face and won’t have to worry about the fallout when he decides to stop talking to me down the line. Part of me wishes that she’d show him that she really doesn’t want him, she just didn’t want to lose the bean bag…but that, would be wishing bad things on him-when all I want is for him to live a happy life, whether that means me being in it or not.

I think, I really did love him. And when I think about that, it seems almost impossible because it was such a short amount of time-but a soul mate comes into your life when you least expect it and makes a huge impact-no matter how long they stay.

I’m going to see him tonight. My hands are ice cold and can’t stop shaking. I know this is the last time I’m going to see him and I don’t know if I can do this. But, I’m an emotional cutter, and feeling that pain would be better than feeling this pain-at least I think so. Like the scales of justice, each pain keeps teeter tottering back and forth, one trying to trump the other. I don’t think it’s possible. I think somehow they’ll both come out in the wash and eventually there won’t be a scale, just a giant pile of pain engrossing my heart, every possible emotion and every possible tear I could have left.

I think I’m going to part ways now. I’ll be back. Probably sooner rather than later, I mean, what’s a good blog post without some heartbreak, right?

“It hurts.”

“Of course it does,” you smiled sadly. “The hurt is how we know it was love. The absence we feel is proof that what we had is something that can be lost.”

“…And when does it stop?”

With eyes dark like a cloud before rain, you replied. “If it was love, it won’t.”

Creating Your Own Ending

I read a quote today-something along the lines of…Sometimes closure doesn’t come when you expect it-you could be just sitting there one day, and out of the blue, it happens.

Sometimes-no matter how much it hurts, no matter how hard you try to push it away-you HAVE to create your own ending.

It’s been almost a year since I heard your voice. I found myself going back to laying in your bed…how content I felt with you rubbing my back. How content I felt with the level of mediocrity that you had somehow sold to me as being normal. For three years I was okay with “catching a poke”, aka sleeping with you once or twice a week-convincing myself that affection from you, any affection was affection worth having.

I saw her today.

As awkward as I thought it’d be the first time we ran into each other-it wasn’t. Of course, she had no clue who I am…who I was…that when you first met her, you were sharing your bed with both of us. But for me, I guess I found some solace in knowing that you found someone that makes you happy.

I would be lying if I said that I never drove by your house…because I have. You bought a new truck, something you talked about doing for all of the years we were…seeing each other. I guess I can consider myself a stepping stone-the one you needed to step on to get to the better place. I wish…you were mine. Instead, some days I come across a song…or a memory hits me straight in the heart, and I’m there…trapped under your boot.

You are a good man.

Today, I think I’m going to create my own, very new ending.

At the end of every “relationship” I spend years pining away for someone…or just allowing time to heal my wounds. Sometimes folks, you gotta get some antibiotic ointment and make it feel and heal better a hell of a lot quicker.

Today is the last day I’m going to think about us as a…what could have been, but instead of a what we were. I’m not sure of the lesson you taught me yet, but I promise I’ll figure it out. And I can guarantee, that when I do, no matter how ‘happy’ you are with her, I’ll be a whole lot better off…because I acknowledge that we were…and you, you just ignore it.

Summer Playlist


  • Why We Call Each Other, Dustin Lynch
  • Light It Up, Luke Bryan
  • Grave, Thomas Rhett
  • Not Everything’s About You, Old Dominion
  • Hate Me, Jillian Jacqueline
  • Keep It To Yourself, Kacey Musgraves
  • I Don’t Trust Myself, Sara Evans
  • God Bless This Mess, Jillian Jacqueline
  • Love Me or Leave Me Alone, Dustin Lynch
  • Unapologetically, Kelsea Ballerini
  • Old Songs, Eli Young
  • Be With Me, Old Dominion
  • Champagne, Lindsay Ell
  • Round Here Buzz, Eric Church
  • Unforgettable, Thomas Rhett
  • Shoe Shopping, Old Dominion
  • Through All Of It, Colton Dixon
  • Happens Like That, Granger Smith
  • Right Girl Wrong Time, Jon Langston
  • The Price I Pay, Haley & Michaels
  • Are You Happy Now, Rascal Flatts & Lauren Alaina
  • One Number Away, Luke Combs
  • Get To You, Michael Ray
  • You Broke Up with Me, Walker Hayes
  • Yeah Boy, Kelsea Ballerini
  • Makin’ Me Look Good Again, Drake White
  • What Ifs, Kane Brown
  • Doin’ Fine, Lauren Alaina
  • Five More Minutes, Scotty McCreery
  • Heart Break, Lady Antebellum
  • The Long Way, Brett Eldridge
  • Small Town Boy, Dustin Lynch
  • Somethin’ I’m Good At, Brett Eldredge
  • Just A Phase, Adam Craig
  • No Such Thing As A Broken Heart, Old Dominion
  • Legends, Kelsea Ballerini
  • Hurt, Lady Antebellum
  • Every Little Thing, Carly Pearce
  • Like I Loved You, Brett Young
  • Written In The Sand, Old Dominion




The Strands in Your Eyes That Color Them Wonderful….

Stop me and steal my breath.

I’ve wanted to write for so long, but I guess I kind of feel like what I have to say right now…is so…trivial…compared to the issues that are ripping our country a part. But, I’m sitting in my bubble, and we still have to FEEL, right?

From as far back as I can remember, I’ve never been able to hold eye contact with a man. Maybe it’s because of my past with my step dad. Maybe it’s because I make bad man choices and am intimidated. Maybe it’s….Hell, I don’t know what it is.

A couple of weeks ago, I met someone who stared right into my eyes-for 5 or more minutes. Consecutively. I didn’t flinch-I didn’t stray, I just took a deep breath, and let him take it away.

I don’t know what it is, and I don’t know that it will ever be anything, but it gave me some kind of renewed hope. Hope that there will at some point, be a man who can both take my breath away, and stare directly into my eyes without me flinching.

I was talking to a friend the other day about what happens when I meet someone new, my life suddenly becomes a series of phases.

Let’s review the phases:

  1. Total Submersion.
    1. This is a state of my existence where I feel that it is absolutely required for me to gather every piece of information about the guy I’ve set my sights on. I need to know what he does for fun, what he’s thinking…Whatever I can get my hands on.
  2. Falling in love.
    1. This isn’t the creepy-I just met you 5 minutes ago, let’s get married and have babies kind of love. This is the….I see that this could really be something amazing love.
    2. I fall in love with the small details that I know other people don’t see, because I know that I see not only the big picture-but the small brush strokes as well.
  3. Self-doubt and criticism.
    1. When the object of my affection doesn’t return my affection in the way that *I* think they should, I begin doubting that it ever existed at all.
    2. I start thinking about all the reasons why I wouldn’t fit in their world. Why what I felt in the submersion phase was all just a bunch of b.s. and I really have nothing to offer them.
  4. Over-correcting.
    1. Just like a car on an icy road, I hit a patch and grab the steering wheel and move it the wrong direction…repeatedly. I try to get attention, I do ridiculous things, I admit to ridiculous things and probably do too much…of everything
  5. Praying.
    1. The most prominent part of my relationships is when I’ve completed these phases. I pray that God has brought a good man into my life, and that He will give him the discernment that he needs to be a good man. And that He’s given him the tools to be a good partner.

I think about these phases, and they’re completely ridiculous. 5 should be where 1 is, 3 shouldn’t exist, and don’t even get me started on 4. Then there’s 2. What’s wrong with falling in love that early?

“So I could care less if I’m being careless, might wreck me to be reckless…
But I’d rather fall apart than love half-hearted.
Yeah, maybe it’s true that you know when you know, and then again maybe you don’t.
But when you find a diamond, you can’t keep it from shining.”

God bless this mess.

I’m currently obnoxiously residing in stage 4 of my phases for a 28 year old. He’s still a baby, and he’s nothing like my type…Whatsoever.

Since Eric, I’ve never been with a man who works in an office. Is it maybe PTSD that I associate office work with softness, and the chances of the guy I’m coveting actually being gay? (If this is the first time you are reading my blog, don’t get upset by this. My first husband is gay..and dammit, a girl is allowed to have PTSD about some of that) I’ve picked men who are blue collared-hard working, come home dirty and smell like men, men. Not men who sit in a bar and talk to me about tie-tacks and being a financial analyst. Not men who-when you breathe them in, the scent of their cologne stains your nostrils for hours….glorious hours.

Let’s hope I get to relish in phase 5. And that maybe, I’ll get to elusive phase 6-the one I couldn’t even bring myself to type out, because it’s been too long since it happened. Phase 6 is bliss. The phase of life where I get to just be.

God bless this mess, if this is as good as it’s gonna get…I’m gonna hold you like I know it’s gonna be okay, again. I’ve got a hurricane in my heart, keeps on rattling the gooder part. And honestly, I’m an honest wreck-but I’m trying my best…God bless this mess.”

You Could Have Been the One…If You Were a Better Man…

“Maybe you were meant to be nothing more than an in-wasn’t-meant-to-be, so I can be that much more grateful for the one that’s meant to be.”

The breath.

You know the one I’m talking about. The one where you breathe in and realize that your life has a peace that was missing for however many years that person was part of your life.

The breath you have when you realize that maybe, just maybe it doesn’t hurt as much as it used to. You don’t seek people out to tell them your sad story and how things ended, that instead you kind of smile at a stupid time, or funny experience.

The breath that fills your entire lungs and doesn’t just stop at the top because your heart is so swollen from all the tears and hurt.

The breath where you also know that even though today is peaceful, and you can breathe all the way to the bottom of your lungs…You’ll drink a bottle of wine and miss him more than you did the last time you drank a bottle of wine.

The breath that comes when you hear his name and want to know what is happening with him…or who he’s dating…or you want to tell him just how much you miss him.

Much like the ocean, that breath ebbs and flows and it will change in shallowness and deepness as the days go on.

Today though, I’m proud to say that I had the good breath. The one where I realized just how much more simple my life is now that I’m not wondering what his actions and/or words mean… Now that I’m not wondering if he loves me or loves me not.

The bottom line is…Today I realized, at least for the first time with him…That I’m really going to be okay. That my heart might crack from time to time missing him, or seeing his name on Facebook…But, really, I’m going to be okay.

Painting Pillows

“All of the hurt, all of the pain, keeps coming down like black rain.
All that we were, every touch leaves a mark you can’t wash away.
Boy, you’re like a tattoo in my head, like you never left this bed
Me and my tears with no one to hold…Just painting pillows”

My ex husband called me today. I haven’t talked about him much because to be honest…We’ve been divorced for almost 10 years and none of it makes any sense to me.  You know when you have such a profound connection with someone who your time apart just makes absolutely no sense? That would be this situation. Except, he’s gay. He’s a beautiful man, inside and out and I love the days where we can spend an hour or more on the phone just updating each other. Tomorrow is my cousin’s death anniversary, a day that is near and dear to both of our hearts–and it makes my soul a happy knowing that we still share that and that our hour-long conversation was a ommage to my beautiful cousin who took his life when he was only 18. There are days where I think back and wonder what my life would be like had we not divorced. I know that I would be in a completely different place…Would I have kids? Would we live the white picket fence life, or would we be divorced like everyone else we know that was 20 (or 21) when they got married?

I’m armed with a 1.5 liter bottle of wine and my brain is spinning.

It’s been one month, and I’m making it. Each day gets a little bit easier, but the thoughts of what could have been, or the want to text him and tell him something small or insignificant about my day is overwhelming. When you find a partner in crime that you can share all of that with…losing it… is like standing in an open field waiting for crop dusters to come and bomb the hell out of you in no particular order. You never know when a tear is going to fall or when the hurt will just make you want to crumble in a corner and rock yourself back to sanity.

I hate that he probably knows how much I miss him and that the power isn’t even there for me to take back. I hate knowing that he doesn’t miss me. I hate knowing that he didn’t care about enough to keep some kind of relationship alive.

I went back on Tinder.

Holy mother of…What a freaking joke that is. I had some kid ask me if he could “make my oyster moister”. I laugh at it now because honestly, that was the only thing sent to me, he didn’t even have the couth to introduce himself. I know Tinder is widely recognized as an app that is for hooking up, but I’ve dated some pretty decent guys from there, so I have hope.

I’m sure there is someone out there who pays close enough attention to this blog to know that I’ve kind of had someone I’ve been seeing for a few months. He’s really great, he adores me. But is adoration enough? There’s no excitement, no adventures. I’m the love of his life, but I can honestly say that I do not think he’s the love of mine. His life is in shreds right now, and I can’t just end things with him because I think it’d be the nail in the coffin. Drifting apart is the easiest way for me…Because I’ll be honest. I’ve never had the balls to break up with someone before.

They’ve always….left me.

When you think about that statement it makes you feel really shitty. That there’s something inherently wrong with you that absolutely no one wants to stay except a guy who worships the ground you walk on but meets NONE of your needs.

As for me…I’m going to sit here and drink my 1.5 L of wine and feel sorry for myself. I think missing guys is bullshit. I still believe that there’s a man out there who will give me butterflies and there will be rainbows and butterflies and unicorns all over around me. I still believe that there could be a chance that there is someone out there RIGHT now looking for me, or wishing I was there too. Somewhere deep down I believe that there is some guy who thinks of me in the form of a country love song, because I’m just a big freaking cheese ball.

There’s gotta be someone who wants to tell me…”In case you didn’t know, I’m crazy about you, I’d be lying if I said I could live this life without you..” Yeah. There’s someone out there. Peter Pan can go fly a kite. -H