One Potentially Not for the Faint of Heart

And on that day, Sailor's light went out. She had got up that morning and nothing unusual or exceptionally terrible had happened. In fact, everything was the same. That was the problem, nothing had changed. It was another day of Sailor loving a man who claimed to love her in return. Another day of trying to talk while being interrupted, another day of trying to make it work while she felt her feelings being more and more bruised. She begged and pleaded to be heard while he went about his day, as emotionless and uninvested as ever. She made empty promises to leave if he didn't change. Time went by. He didn't change, she didn't leave. She begged for love, for conversations, for him to come forth with life changing speeches. All she felt like she got were words that just cut deeper and deeper. She searched high and low for a way to his heart, a thing that would get through his head. Anything she could think of to bring on an eye opening change of heart. She was a good woman, who at one time felt like he had the potential to be a good man. She thought one day it would hit him. How much he needed her, how much he didn't want to live without her. She thought he'd be so sorry and apologetic for his behavior. She thought he would spend the rest of her lives begging for her thoughts and feelings. He would spend his life trying to understand the ways in which his behavior had hurt her so deeply for so long. Everything would click and they would spend the rest of their lives in imperfect bliss. But years had past, and that day never came. And one day, she woke up and realized it never would. She knew he had never truly healed himself and given his heart to her. He had never set out to understand that he wasn't perfect but as long as he cared how hurt she was and tried to change that behavior. He had never felt that broken heart when seeing the shattered look upon her face. He had never truly heard her, not once. And every day, he hurt her a little more, and she wept silently when his presence made its absence. And every day, his uncaring and un-understanding behavior broke her a little more. Until that day. Sailor got up and spent her morning the way she spent every morning. She then grabbed her shoes from the rack by the door. She walked and walked some more, until she ended up a bridge. A big, sturdy, always the same bridge. And then, she jumped.

How Close is Too Close?

Everyday I watch,
my eyes filled with silent horror.
I watch myself become
smaller and smaller.
All by your hands.
I beg,
to be heard, to be understood.
To be treated kindly.
I beg,
for you to see the hurt,
the destruction written all over my face.
I beg for you to love me,
to keep me safe, to protect me.
And everyday,
things don't change.
And I beg for help from my new position,
closer to the edge.

One I Feel May Already Be Posted

My tears flow like rain.
Sobs to match the sound
of a tin roof.
A tsunami of salt-mixed water.
You came.
A hurricane of destruction passing through.
Then, you were gone.
A whisper on the wind.
Gone, gone again.
And my rain will fall.
Until new spring comes.
I am reborn.

I Just Want to Be Happy

Why do you run?
That's what they ask.
Everyone's favorite question.
What's wrong with you?
Nothing, I say.
Things don't work out as expected.
Best laid plans go south.
I find unhappiness.
Or it finds me.
Permeates everywhere I look.
Sweet words dissipate. 
Bad moods prevail.
Harsh words, hurt feelings.
Fear of who they are now.
So I run.
To find that happy feeling again.
To chase my next high.
The next thing to make me feel good.
My next source of pleasure.
So even now,
I continue running.

The Beginning of the Prom Scene

Sailor awoke that morning, full of dread. Today was the day she was being forced to go prom dress shopping with her hateful stepmother, Satan. I'm not even sure I care to go to prom she thought. I don't want to see Mason and his new girlfriend. I'm not really feeling prom season. She began her makeup, got dressed, and went downstairs to find Satan's family waiting in the kitchen. "Hey, what are you guys doing here," she said to the room full of people. "Oh, they're going to the mall with us."
Shoot me, Sailor thought, this is the most embarrassing moment ever. I don't want to try on frilly dresses in front of a bunch of people I barely know. Sailor reluctantly got in the car and off they went. Sailor looked around, store after store, dress after dress. Nothing fit right, nothing felt right. "Sailor, what are you looking for?" "I don't know," she said. All Sailor could see in her head was something pretty and sweet. Something Mason would look at and stop him dead in his tracks, make his heart skip a beat.

Also Temporarily Untitled

Your words,
A continuous flow of hatred.
Lips, tongue, and teeth,
Spewing destruction.
Causing tears, sobs, sadness, and hurt feelings.
Is it worth the price to you?
Does it feel good to hurt?
Is the damage just chalked up to,
Another casualty.
Do you sleep at night?
A baby, no remorse.
Or do you repeat the words,
Over and over until they meld to your brain.
And see the hurt faces,
Over and over.
A never ending cycle.

Meet Me When It's Over

Tell me,
That at the end of the day,
After all the adventures have been had.
You've seen the world's offerings.
You are old and so am I.
Our youth worn away.
Our feet black with the ashes of roads traveled,
Our fingers tired from grabbing
at things we could never reach.
The universe had it's laugh,
And we had our fun.
We'll come exhausted.
And our souls will meet at the front door.
Anxious and happy.
We'll rest and reminisce.
Until it's all over
The last flower blooms,
and the last leaf falls.

I Don't Want to Be a Dead End Human

Shug, what makes you happy? Better yet, what feeds your soul? Is it drugs, always chasing your next high? Is that who you are when no one is looking, is that what your soul aches for? Do you long to not feel lost anymore? Do you want a place to feel at home? Happy and peaceful? A place you can rest. Or do you want that adrenaline rush? I yearn for a place to run to. A place to unpack and call home. I ache for a good book and the perfect cup of coffee. The idea of learning something new and life-changing, of being a different person than I was yesterday. Every day, more sweet, more kind, more understanding. A chance to feel my feet in the sand, the wind in my hair. I want to live and then come home to my porch and talk about all the living. I want to go. Just go. Japan, Amsterdam, Australia, Madagascar. Sylvia Plath said she wanted to be everyone, a preacher, a prostitute, and come back and write about her experiences. I want that. I don't want to spend every day in a haze of unremembrance. I don't want to spend every day living the same life, especially without someone to make it interesting, until I wake up and realize I have no more days left. Everything I have ever learned about how to live, I learned from you. You are too smart to waste away in a dead end life, to be nothing and nobody. You were my first and perhaps most solid definition of love, you were the reason I started writing, the reason I wanted to be a good person. People who are so unique that they have the power to change someone's lives are very rare. Don't diminish and squander that. It's important.

The First Go Round, Nonexistent Book

Mason saw her standing there, jeans, black band t-shit, Chuck Taylors, back turned to him. His heart skipping a beat thinking of the sweetly eloquent words she had tried so hard to convince him of. In that moment, she turned around, her eyes immediately finding his as his approached. "Sailor, I missed you," he said. "Well," she said, "I've been waiting an awfully long time." "Ok, I know what I have to do. I'll be back," and with that, Mason walked off.

Mason walked up to his girlfriend, some girl he had been talked into dating by his friends, in place of Sailor, and ended their short beginning. He walked back up to Sailor, grabbed her face in his hands, and kissed her. Then the two of them fell into a feeling that neither would ever fully recover from.

Dance With Me in Hell

Can I be?
Your today, your tomorrow, and all of your yesterdays.
Will you take me where you go?
Can I be?
Your favorite photo,
The one you feel compelled to stop and stare at,
Every time you walk by.
Can I be?
Your first thought in the morning,
Drink me with your cup of coffee.
Breathe me in with your cigarette.
Your last thought at night,
The peaceful thing that drives you to sleep.
Can I also be,
All the thoughts in between.
Can I be?
Your favorite prayer,
The one thing you really hoped for.
Can I be?
Your favorite demon.
Ready to dance with you in happy, hot bliss.

Untitled

My life, a mess.
My soul,
tired.
I long for a place.
Where my mind can rest.
I can repaint my walls.
Open up my windows,
sunshine for the first time.
Lay it's metaphorical feet up.
Life fueled by understanding.
Open ears, ready to listen.
Late nights, real dinners, warm fires.
Unpack my baggage
and call it home.

One Preceding the Letter, a Transition, More Parts of a Nonexistent Book

Mason sat at his desk, unable to focus on class, terrified of what he would find in that envelope. He waited til he got home, ran upstairs to his bedroom, though twice, ran to the porch and let a cigarette. After smoking and a failed attempt to calm his nerves, he went inside to face the truth.
Mason stuck his hand inside and pulled out a book. Skate by Michael Harmon, a book he had let Sailor borrow a few months ago. Took a deep breath, reached in one more time, and pulled out Sailor's letter.

Why Are You Here?

Do you know me at all?
Do you know what I've seen,
Where my mind goes when it drifts off?
Off, off, off
Until it falls right off the Earth.
Favorite song,
The one I sing to break my heart
Over and over again.
Favorite movie,
That always excites my personality.
Favorite book,
That always leaves me inspired and craving life.
What brings tears to my eyes?
What gives me the warm, fuzzy feelings.
Am I just a toy to you?
New and shiny, for the moment?
Until I'm thrown into a corner.
With all of your discarded things,
thought, and feelings.
Left to collect your dust.

Speaking of Things Down the Rabbit Hole

And here we go again,
I fell down, down, down
Down into that mysterious hole.
Where I always find you waiting.
Waiting to take my hand.
And fuck me up all over again.
Would it make you sick to your stomach
To know?
Or some sort of twisted amusement?
Everything is an illusion.
My words, coy.
My actions,
An unintentional game.
With a prize I'll never win.

Sequential Order, Technically Part Two from Nonexistent Book, Also Scene Rewrite

Sailor sat at her desk, her bare feet propped up on it. Boston's Amanda playing on her stereo, staring at her phone, waiting on some guy who she had met at a gas station to tell her something he believed in. Same old question, new guy, same old uninspired answer. You know who would answer this question with a good answer, the perfect answer? Sailor thought to herself. Mason. And all of a sudden, it hit Sailor with a feeling in her stomach, a feeling so strong and so sure others might name it prophesy. It was him. The giant question of where her future lay. And he was the glowing answer. She ignored the ding on her phone, the guy's answer to her question, as her mind began to divulge it's plan. Sailor had always planned to write Mason a letter for graduation, well that was still a month away, but this revelation had placed a sense of urgency on her. So the wait began, until the time was right. At the ripe hour of 3 a.m., Sailor sat down to write her letter. 

Darling Mason,
I know we haven't spoken in a few months, and I know that is mostly my fault. But I have always wanted to write you a letter for graduation, I just was never sure what it would say. The first thing it should say is I'm sorry. I'm sorry for all the moments you have felt hurt by me. And I mean that I am truly sorry. Do you hear me? I am sorry that I pushed you to the side and didn't give you the attention you deserve, or the effort for that matter. I'm sorry I made you feel as if I wasn't interested in having you, because I am in fact in interested. I know you're in a relationship and if that's where your heart is, I do not want to get in the way of that. But I do love you. And I feel in my heart there is a time and a place where you and I are meant to be together. I'm sorry to interrupt your life, but I had to tell you, for my sanity and so you'll know. If you do not wish to speak to me, you don't have to. I wish you all of life's happiness and I will always love you. Love, Sailor.

The next day Mason sat at his desk, looked to his left and found Sailor's best friend approaching. Oh God, she's coming for me, he thought. Kenzie reached him, pulled out a manila envelope and said, "I think you need to read this," placed it on his desk and walked off.

Has She Met Me?

What do you see when you close your eyes?
What do you dream?
Where does your heart go?
Do you see her?
Standing on the beach,
Wet feet and sandy hair.
Do you see her,
Sitting at a table,
In your favorite restaurant.
Eating your favorite meal.
Do you see her,
Sleeping in your bed,
Peacefully and steady.
Or do you see me?
Broken and drenched.
Heart and feet in a puddle,
Ready to be your favorite fuck-up.
Nothing special, nothing new,
And probably nothing good.
But ready to worship at your feet,
Once again.

From the Archive, Apparently from a Scorned Women, Dated June 27, 2016

I have long since come to the conclusion that some people just love misery. They let the darkness wrap its arms around them and they call it home. It's where they find solace, because it's familiar, easy, comfortable. Was that you? Do you feel at home in utter misery? Because you are so damn good at creating your own. If you saw the destruction that you caused when your actions became self-seeking and hellacious, and you're hell-bent on destroying your own life, would you hesitate? If you saw the nights your mom stayed up sobbing about you, the times she lost sleep worrying about your safety, the times your girlfriend sat there for hours scared to move, scared to think about where you were or what you were doing. The rage that you have caused to flow threw your sister. Do you ever stay up and feel all the hurt you've caused? Is that why you drink? Is that why you can't look at yourself? Or, is it something deeper? Something we can't see? How much would it take for you to fight the darkness, try to make a life, something good and substantial. What is worth it to you?

Dearest Darling,

Can you feel it?
Do you know?
It's all for you.
All of it.
All of the words
that have ever come from me.
No matter the space or time.
At the end of the day,
they all belong to you.
Tell me darling,
do you even know?

Where Were You When I Disappeared?

Why do you not care?
Care that your harsh words rip me to shreds
Care that your looks make me feel ashamed of who I am
Care that your silence makes my head scream with sad thoughts
And my heart shatter like glass at my feet
Care that your inability to acknowledge the ways you hurt me
Make me never want to speak again
Care that you don't have to tear me down anymore
Because I'm already whittled away into nothing
Pretty soon I'll be dead inside,
Unreachable
I'll be a mute
My thoughts and feelings will be heard no more
My silence deafening
I wonder,
Will you care then?

Life is Hard and Some Hard Parts Last Longer than Expected

It's been a hard week. I wonder where you are and what you're doing. Are you happy in this very second or is life beating on you too? Do the pains of your life ache the same way mine do? Are you content and complacent or arguing against the ordinary? It seems like everyday is an unexpected struggle and nothing gets easier. Do you think life is built against us? Is the purpose we have here simply trying to fight against something always trying to take us down? Well, I'm exhausted. Are you?

Do You Miss Me?

Would you notice if I disappeared?
Piece by piece slipped away
Until there was nothing left
Would you feel it in your bones
Would there be some type of cosmic tipoff
Or would my ceasing go unnoticed by you?

Fuck Me, Daddy

Do you wanna make love?
Do you wanna make me?
Or do you wanna make both?
Do you want to love me emotionally?
Do you want to sing happy songs to my dark parts?
Do you want to kiss me long and lazy?
Do you want to take my burdens with every blanket you wrap me up in?
Do you want to play with me in front of the open window because we're shameless?
Do you want to tell me stories to soothe my soul?
Do you want to fuck me while the rain comes down all around us?
Tell me, do you?

My Morning, Your Cigarette

What would you do if we disappeared together,

into a bed. 

Where no one would miss us. 

Where your sweet kisses could 

meet my mornings.

Where my lazy days could 

meet your fingers. 

And we could fall into love over and over again. 

Because I Need an Existential Crisis Moment

Hey shug,
I sit here today, more quiet, more contemplative than I've felt lately. I wish I had the magic words for this piece, or a clear idea of where it was going. I sit around and wonder, does anything on my blog mean anything? Does it come out as a clear representation of how I feel, or do I just start writing and keep on with whatever sounds good in my head. Are you impressed with your writing, or do you ever look at it and feel like it's fake? Does anything I say even matter? Have my words ever truly changed anyone's heart, have yours? Do your words feel deeply important and relevant? Did my words ever change your heart? They didn't make my mom come back. That didn't make anyone be there for me when I totaled my car. They didn't make him let me see his kids. Writing has always been an escape, but if they never change anything, what am I doing? I guess the same shit I'm always doing, just trying to cope. I mean that's how I started writing. To you, every night. It was the only thing I could do. Did you ever hear those words? No. Do you hear them now? No. Do you care what happened to me, my story? No. Do I just keep going at it, like I'm drowning and these words are my only savior? Yes. I look around and feel like everyone's life is falling into place, except mine. I'm still little lost Samantha, while everyone else manages to get their shit together. I'm that one person it's easy to overlook while everyone just keeps going. Then again, I was always an easy one to leave behind. At least it's consistent. All the people who have left, do they care what happens to me, what becomes of me? Will my life ever actually count for anything? You keep fighting, against all odds that all of this isn't for nothing. That life matters and eventually we all find a place to our soul. What if it doesn't? What if the ultimate, cosmic joke is that life doesn't matter, it has no purpose and is automatically and continuously stacked against you. That nothing you do will ever truly matter/ My words don't matter, and they probably never will. Do you still write? Your words were real words, power to change and connect with people words. Per usual, drink one for me.

One That is Part of the New Series - Interview One

* man who has had his first real relationship, lasting six months, and is currently single

Me: Once you realized things in your relationship weren't going well, why did you chose to still stay for another two months?
Them: I stayed to try to make it work.

Me: Why did you inevitably feel like you needed to break up?
Them: I just felt like too much was happening.

Me: When you look at yourself, what are some improvements you think you could have made in the relationship?
Them: I shouldn't have spent so much time trying to please someone that I couldn't make happy. I felt like I couldn't be happy until she was, but she needed to make herself happy, not me.

Me: Do you think she wasn't happy in general or do you think she just wasn't happy in the relationship.
Them: I think she just wasn't happy in general.

Me: If you could go back in time and do it over, would you still date her?
Them: No, I think don't think I would, we're just better off as friends.

Me: Do you think there are any issues she could have improved on?
Them: I'm not real sure.

Me: Did it hurt you when you saw her in a relationship with someone else?
Them: No, I just wanted her to be happy.

Me: Did you guys have anything to tie you together? A pet, a kid, a plant?
Them: No.

Me: How did you feel after the break up?
Them: Once it happened, I felt more free.

One Where Things Come to an End

Sailor got up in the middle of the night. The thought occurred to her, this is exactly how this started all those years ago. She looked down on the person in bed, his blonde hair glowing in the moonlight. She leaned down, sat on the floor and began to whisper to him. "It's crazy how much as happened. Please know that I loved you though. More than I have ever loved anyone. It was impossible not to fall in love with you. But I need something different now. I need to be heard and understood. My words need to carry weight with someone. I shouldn't have to feel alone because I can't express how I feel because I'm always being cut off and interrupted before I even got a chance to explain. I need to be cared for, I need someone who won't get mad when I'm not okay because it means they're not getting their way. I need someone ready to support me and help get me and us back to where we need to be. I'm sorry I need someone to tell me it's okay. I need someone to be nice to me until I'm ready to be nice to myself. I need nice words instead of harsh ones. I need recognition on how much I put into this. Things won't always be okay, but when you aren't nice to me simply because things aren't okay, okay gets further and further away. You just don't seem to understand. You want me to be all over you and ready to jump your bones when you come in the door, then I need to be okay and I need us to be okay. Literally all I need is for you to be nice to me. But you won't. It's like you can't be nice to me for more than 24 hours at a time. You can't be nice for two hours and think that makes you nice to me. Be nice for a week, two weeks and then it'd be a conversation. You have hurt me, wounded me, and the only back is to nurture me. You have to nurture a wounded thing, give it special care and attention, or it won't heal. And you won't do that for me. I'm sorry and you always were my favorite." Sailor got up, wiped her tears, and grabbed her shoes on the way out the door. And she left the blonde boy for the final time.

One Because Fuck You

You know, I've never thought I'd ever have shit to say to you again, but I'm really fucking angry right now, and you make a damn good target. I always thought if I ever did say anything to you again, I'd tell you all the bad things I'd done. All the vile things, disgusting things, anything I could say that was bad enough to deserve you not wanting me. But you know what, you're not worth it. There's an encounter that keeps running through my head. A person ran into you in a restaurant one day and brought me up, and you acted clueless. Clueless to the fact that you do have a daughter, and if that doesn't sound like you, I don't know what does. Where were you every chorus concert, play, or musical? Where were you on my graduation day when I graduated in the top ten? Where were you when I got a full scholarship to college? Where were you when I learned how to drive? Where were you when I got so depressed, I wanted to die? Where the fuck are you? Every since you left, I've never truly had anyone. My whole life has been trying to figure things out on my own. Never had anyone to give me advice, to tell me the best way to do my makeup, to tell me about boys, to teach me how to sing, draw, or write. Where were you when my best friend broke my heart? Where were you when the man that I loved was in the hospital on life support? Where the fuck are you now to keep me from screwing up my life? Where are you to tell me some things are worth fighting for and happy endings could be real? Where are you to tell me that if I get my heart broken, I'll still be in one piece, and it'll be hard, but i'll survive? But as usual you're not here, you never were. Thank you for teaching me my number one lesson though, just because you love someone, doesn't mean they'll stay. Truly, fuck you.

One Because, Let's Be Real, Writing is the Only Thing I Know

Shug, let me ask you something? Funny, I feel that's how a lot of my letters to you start out. Do you think your mom would have been happier, had she in fact stayed with the love of her life? Do you think that by her staying and time and patience would have changed him back into the man he once was? Do you think she missed out by not having the love of her life? You know, when you're a little kid, they tell your goal is to find someone you love. But that's very misleading. Love isn't always enough to make a relationship last, no matter how much we wish it was. Love, it's a funny thing though. It makes you put up with way more than you ordinarily would, but how much is too much? When do you get to that point where you know a man isn't going to change? How many bad moments make a bad life? Are there some things men should already have down? What it comes down to is this: When is the right time to leave a man? When is he no longer husband material? That, or course, makes me ask myself, "Samantha, what defines husband material to you?" What thinks have to be there, regardless of all else, love or not. My first two are obvious if you've ever met me. I want a faithful man and an honest one. Two things that are much harder to find than I had initially thought. I want a man I could see cooking dinner for every night, a man I could see tucking my kids into bed, a man I could see drinking wine on a porch with long after everyone else is asleep. So now, it comes down to what does a man have to have to make me feel okay doing those things with him. Everyone wants a man who treats them well. Actually, regardless of gender, everyone wants to be treated well. Everyone wants to feel loved and appreciated. Personally, I want a man who isn't scared of hard work. I have places I want to go in life, and men who don't have any goals or plans for their life low key scare me. Now, I'm not dumb, and life almost never goes according to plan, but that doesn't mean it isn't worth having one. I want a man who puts his family first, this man is my partner, a person I'm supposed to be able to share my load with. If I carry all my weight, and his weight, what's the point of having him around? He's supposed to help make my life easier and carry some of the weight. That means he has to be trusted to make decisions, that he can be trusted by himself, without me there to hold his hand. That I can go out for a little while by myself to the movies or to get my nails done and trust him with my home and my children. When a man puts you and your family first, he's showing you that you matter, that you two have a strong bond, that he's serious about you, that you two can face whatever comes because he will always have your back and nothing can come in between you two. I want a man who has the thought to do sweet things for me and surprises, not because I expect them, but because the lust and romance will come and go. When the lust isn't there, you gotta have a man that's your best friend. That loves you too much to step out on you, and you can still sit and talk with. When that lust is gone, you're going to need to have something substantial until it comes back. Is it too late for old dogs to learn new tricks? Can men really become those things, or do they either have it or they don't?

Because I Adore One - Liners

"You'd be surprised who the love of your life turns out to be. After all, Adventure fell in love with Lost." - Erin Van Vuren

"I aspire to be an old man with an old wife laughing at old jokes from a wild youth." - Atticus

"Draw a monster. Why is it a monster?"

" "Show me your scars," he said. "But... Why?" she asked quizzically. "I want to see how many times you needed me and I wasn't there," he whispered, a tear rolling down his cheek."

"Fall in love with a weird one - someone not quite right in the head - life is far more interesting when love is odd." - Topher Kearby

"Magic tumbled from her pretty lips and when she spoke the language of the universe - the stars sighed in unison." - Michael Faudet

"I have late night conversations with the moon, he tells me about the sun and I tell him about you." - S. L. Gray

"I asked her if she believed in love, and she smiled and said it was her most elaborate method of self-harm." - Benedict Smith


"Because everything she does comes from within. From some dark impulse. I guess that's what makes her so thrilling to watch. So dangerous. Even perfect at times, but also so damn destructive."

" "When you wake up in the morning, Pooh," said Piglet at last, "what's the first thing you say to yourself?" "What's for breakfast?" said Pooh. "What do you say, Piglet?" "I say, I wonder what's going to happen exciting today?" said Piglet."

"We live on a blue planet that circles around a ball of fire next to a moon that moves the sea, and you don't believe in miracles?"

"Addiction is tricky. For example; a man who quit smoking for 11 years spent 15 seconds in an elevator with a man smoking a cigarette. He gave in. What I'm trying to say is, I think I love you again."

"There are times when all her pure soul needs is my filthy love."

"The world will break your heart ten ways to Sunday. That's guaranteed. I can't begin to explain that or the craziness inside myself or everyone else. But guess what? Sunday's my favorite day again."

"They say love will not last, that it has no happy ending, but I say the hell with what they say: let us burn these fears down to the ground and we will dance like children in the ashes." - Christopher Poindexter

"We are, as a species, addicted to story. Even when the body goes to sleep, the mind stays up all night, telling itself stories." - Jonathan Gottschall

"I don't ask you to love me always like this, but I ask you to remember. Somewhere inside of me there will always be the person I am tonight." - F. Scott Fitzgerald

"I miss you deeply, unfathomably, senselessly, terribly." - Kafka

"Not only did I love her, but I could tell the universe loved her, too. More than others. She was different. After all, I would be a fool not to notice the way the sunshine played with her hair." - Christopher Poindexter

"Before you say yes, get him angry. See him scared, see him wanting, see him sick. Stress changes a person. Find out if he drinks and if he does, get him drunk - you'll learn more about his sober thoughts. Discover his addictions. See if he puts you in front of them. You can't change people, baby girl. If they are made one way, it doesn't just wear off. If you hate how he acts when he's out of it now, you're going to hate it much worse eight years down the road. You might love him to bits but it doesn't change that some people just don't fit."

"Do your squats, eat your vegetables, wear red lipstick, and don't let boys be mean to you."

"He said, "Try to learn to breathe deeply, really to taste food when you eat, and when you sleep really to sleep. Try as much as possible to be wholly alive with your might, and when you laugh, laugh like hell. And when you get angry, get good and angry. Try to be alive. You will be dead soon enough."

One that is Part of the New Series - Interview Two

* man dated woman for two years, is now married to someone else, it has been seven years

Me: How did you guys break up?
Him: I left her in a text message.

Me: Why did you guys end?
Them: She didn't want to enjoy the simple activities, always wanted to do expensive things like go out and have dinner.

Me: Are there any things you think you could have improved on in that relationship?
Them: No, I was good and I tried.

Me: Are there any things she could have improved on?
Them: Yeah, she could've been more chill and less expensive. She was also taking all these strange vacations all the time. She could've stopped that. No one goes off that often and every weekend.

Me: Do you experience of these feelings or issues with your wife?
Them: No, not at all.

Me: Were you guys sleeping together?
Them: No.

Me: Did you miss her after you guys split?
Them: No.

Me: Do you ever think about the girl you almost dated after her and before you got with your wife?
Them: I sometimes have the thought of what it would be like but I don't regret not dating her and dating my wife instead.

One That's Real

Do you think you'll ever get it together or in your mind is your life together? You know, I always thought you were proof that people could change, but I don't know anymore. Maybe people just flow through life doing the same shit. Which is the most depressing thought I've had. I'll just flow through life, not staying anywhere, moving from one version of me to another, just grasping at temporary things. As fun as I'm sure it must look like I have, since that keeps ending up my life, I don't want that. I don't want to be some fleeting memory in everybody's mind. I want stability, something everlasting and secure. Is it the people I pick, are they bad, or just the wrong people, or am I the issue? Samantha, why do you leave? It's the most famous question, the million dollar one too. I don't ever set out to leave. It can't be the people, I've left plenty of good ones. It's like once someone hurts you, it's impossible to know they won't do it again, actually you know they will. And it'll get easier for them every time. It's like knowing feelings don't last forever, and over time, slowly, you'll look less shiny. When they get mad, they will stay mad longer and longer and get a little angrier each time. It's like when you get mad, they'll care less and less as the days go by, and they'll try with less and less effort to fix it. It's like they'll start noticing other people as attractive more and more because they already know your body and have grown accustomed and realized that won't change. They'll care less and less about hurting your feelings because you always forgive, always get mad, always overreact. They'll wake up one day and their first thought won't be how grateful they are to wake to you. They'll cry over you less and less. They won't appreciate your music and they won't care what you're reading. The effort will decrease. They won't care about making your sandwiches just right, they'll quit making your coffee in the morning, quit throwing your towel in the dryer when you're in the shower so it will be warm. People want everything but the hard times, and when things don't go their way, you won't look the same to them anymore. What person could possibly want you forever? Who could possibly leave other human beings alone that long, no matter how hard shit is with you? I don't know, but maybe if someone could convince me, I wouldn't always feel the need to run. Forever is a feeling, one most people aren't willing to put the energy into giving you.

One that Has the Potential to be the Ending

Sailor pulled up to the house and cut her lights. She sat that in the car for a few seconds collecting her breath and trying to stop her heart, she looked at the clock on the dash, four in the morning. Sailor got out of the car and walked to the door. If it's locked, she thought, then I should just leave. He won't care anymore. Sailor put her hand on the knob and turned, the door opened. The door creaked softly and the figure stirred a little in the darkness but did not wake. Sailor walked over to his bed, kicked her shoes off, pushed his legs to the side and laid down at the foot of it. 

Sailor awoke to find the blonde boy laying down across from her, looking into her eyes. "Sailor, what are you doing here?" Sailor looked at him for a moment, and finally spoke. "I choose you." 

One That's Not a Story, But Rather the Truth

Because let's be real, the only semi-decent writing I've ever done has been to you. I sit around sometimes and wonder why writing to you has always been easiest and I guess it's because there's something to knowing that no matter what you did, someone had your back. You didn't care if I woke up and wanted to be a bitch to every person who entered my line of vision, you didn't care if I wanted to lay in bed and cry all day long, you didn't care if I wanted to spend the day outside rolling around in the grass with no cell phone, just to feel the sunshine. It didn't matter what I did, or who I wanted to be that day, or who I hurt, helped, or made happy. You were always there, no matter what, with that same look in your eyes. I wonder if you ever think back that far, if those are memories you even still have. Do you remember staying up all night, talking about any and everything. Movies, books, aliens. Do you remember when Andrea was around? How silly things got the later the clock went on. Do you remember our senior night. I made you sit with her because I didn't want her to be by herself. You told her about punching Eric in the face, you taught all about deep-throating hot dogs, a conversation I will never understand how that came into existence, Benji said he forgot we weren't already married and that she wasn't our kid, we literally watched your brother eat 12 plates of food. Would you look at my life now and be surprised? To see me in the exact same position as always. My life slowly going up in flames right in front of me. I swear I don't even try to fuck things up on purpose, but hey, maybe you already know that? Would you feel sorry for me for once, to see me actually being a tornado, not just a bad force in your life? Or would you laugh at your favorite disaster, back at it again? I'd tell you about everyone. I'd tell you about Tristan, he's so shy and somewhat awkward, he'd remind you of Zane. You'd love Lolli, everyone does, he's like your mom, seems like he's motherly and then pops off with ridiculously inappropriate shit. Travis, you'd like, he'd remind you of the people you hang with. You would love his stories. Alex would remind you of the person you used to be, quiet and reserved. You'd love my kids, they are incredibly smart, also slightly manipulative. They'd like you too. Is Bukowski still the great inspiration of your life? You know the thing that Bukowski and Fante fail to tell you is, regardless of the no fucks policy and managing to not spend any legitimate time in jail and calling it adventure, they were deeply unhappy people. Then again, all I've wanted is to be Lula and I still manage to find myself as miserable as them, so damn, maybe you're doing it right. Do you wish you had woken up from the hospital with no memory? The doctor said you could have had brain loss, if you had no memory, wouldn't things be different. You wouldn't need alcohol to run from yourself anymore. Do you think I'm cursed, New Orleans voodoo shit? Would you sit down and try to distract me? Lots of movies and food. Would you sit with me while I cried? Would you tell me it's okay to run and hide? Would you tell me to fight? Would you blame me? Or him? If I could have anything in the world, that's what I would want. Another human being, like you, who had my back no matter what. Who loved me, no matter what. Who could watch me cry, or ignore them, or be a bitch, or be happy, and never look at me any different. To truly be myself in my constant state of confusion and have that be just fine. I hope all things happy and good in your life. Always, and just for old times sake, drink one for me.

One From The Night Before She Ran

"Do you love me?" the blonde boy asked, face to face with Sailor.
"No." Sailor answered, not quite meeting his eyes.
"Do you fucking love me?" The boy asked her again.
"No." Sailor whispered.
In one, swift movement the blonde reached up with his hand, cupped her face and pulled him towards her, their lips meeting. Sailor felt every resolve she had break in that one moment. It was a kiss there was no coming back from.
"That's what I thought." he responded, forehead to forehead with her, both of them struggling for their breath.
"Shut up."

The boy kissed her again. Hard. They began walking backwards until he gently sat her on the bed. She sat there, looking up at him. The eyes that were always looking at her, while his mouth said nothing. The mouth that always spoke to her with so much passion. She reached her hands up underneath his shirt to feel his bare chest under her fingers. A motion she had ached to do for days. He reached up and pulled his shirt off to make it easier for her. Sailor took a minute to admire the tattoos in his skin and he took that moment to reach down and kiss her again.

One From the Story Where He Broke Her Heart

Sailor sat in bed looking at him sleeping beside her. The moonlight hitting his face and giving his dark hair a red tint. Why is he doing this, she thought. Why is he digging up something we had planted so deeply in faith? Oh, that's right, she thought, he doesn't believe in faith and laughed to herself. How do you come out on top with someone who is always testing you, trying to catch you slipping, waiting on you to give the perfect answer every time your mouth opens. Why is everything I do jumping through hoops, she thought. Why can't I, myself, my thoughts and feelings just be enough? Why is it always about being the version of me that is acceptable? Regardless of how hard I try to jump through those hoops and pass those tests, I'm always lacking the perfect move. What is it about me that is never enough? Why does he sit here and say he loves me and somehow makes me feel as if he secretly hates me? What did I do to make him this way? Why does he hate me so goddamn much?

One From the Non-Existent Book, Scattered Pieces of the Blonde Boy

Sailor sat on the bed in the moonlight putting on her shoes, her running shoes to be exact. Here she was running, again. She looked over at the man beside her, sleeping soundly, blonde hair falling in his face, the man she loved. She got up quietly and quickly exited through the door.

Kenzie and Sailor were laying on the bottom of Sailor's bed. "I think you're just running because you're scared. The two of you are too much alike and I don't think you've ever really had that. Someone who could understand the way your brain works, not just the words that come out of your mouth." 
"No. We're both natural disasters. It's like a tornado. Everyone knows they're bad and you should run, but at the same time everyone wants kind of wants to see the eye too. You can't take two people who are notorious for fucking up and place them together. They will be absolute chaos."
"Do beautiful things not bloom in chaos?"
"No," Sailor said. 
"What if two people are in love?"
"No."

 "I have a question?"
"Shoot," the boy say intrigued.
"Why aren't you scared to die?"
"Because this is it," he said. "Life has no reset button. I like the idea of living while everyone else is just sleeping, doing nothing, waiting around. I want to live, to fully truly alive. Come with me, I'll show you." The boy walked over, opened up Sailor's car door, she sat down and off they went.

One From the Story Where She Admitted the Truth

Sailor sat down beside Kenzie and Kenzie just looked at her expectedly waiting on her to begin. "I think some days I'll hate him," Sailor said. "What," Kenzie said startled. Sailor looked down at the new and shiny ring on her hand. "I had to give up the only thing that really mattered to keep him. I lost the one thing that mattered to me outside of him. I've come to terms with the fact that life is not a fairy tale. There will some mornings in which I wake, look over, and realize I hate him. I hate him for everything I had to lose. There will be days when everything I say and do is nothing more than pretending. I will pretend to be a good wife, I will pretend to love him, I will pretend to be happy. Don't get me wrong," her voice softens, "there will be days that are full of real happiness. Days that we are in love, days full of real things and real moments."

30 Day Challenge, Day Five: Things You Want to Say to an Ex

To an Ex, but an unexpected one,
I could never say anything to you again and be totally fine. I harbor no issues or unresolved things with you. However, you love to point out areas where you feel like people don't add up, so I guess it takes two to tango. First of all, if you decide upon self-improvement as a means to make yourself more appealing in your new relationship, then it loses it's sincerity. Self-improvement comes from within, not as a means to getting laid by your new girl. Acting out and doing things malicious in nature will always be a stain on how you portray yourself. Next, using your faith as an act of being better than someone, condemning someone is not true faith. You never have the right to condemn people to hell, and when you do, you're just proving that you're not strong and secure in your faith because you're obviously confused on some things. You cannot tell someone they're sinning and they will pay for it, while you're out sleeping with anything that has two legs. You're just trying to get some and they're just trying to find true happiness while not hurting anyone, so which of you is actually worse? Being a decent human being applies all the time, you can't go out of your way to hurt people, simply because you didn't get your way. That is not how this works. You can't be a good person half the time, it's all or nothing, sweetie. But actually, I do hope you find happiness, and true love because those are the things that make a life. Those are the things that change people.

30 Day Challenge, Day Three: A Book You Love

Let's be real, like many things in life, I am totally enthralled by reading. I adore books, and think they are the easiest way to learn, to grow, to be someone different. If you ever find that you are not impressed with who you are, pick up a book, you'll be different by the time you're done, if it's good enough. I think I'll discuss a few and see where this goes, since everything I write is almost always pure stream of consciousness anyways. My all time favorite book is and will be forevermore Sailor and Lula, The Complete Novels. I love this story so much, my daughter will be named after it. Barry Gifford does something so magical to me. Even though Sailor and Lula end up having all these crazy, outlandish adventures, you feel as if they could happen to you, happen to anyone, if only you had the right partner. Maybe the point isn't to have such insane things occur, but to be with someone who makes you feel as if anything of those things could be possible. My whole life, all I ever wanted was for someone to take my hand and lead me far far away, to run away with me. All I yearned for was that feeling, that Sailor and Lula feeling. They're not some romanticized, perfect, love story, they're actually white trash mediocre. They're on the run, poor, smoking hooligans staying in seedy hotels. Everything your parents warn you against, but happy with each other and just being wild and free. This books somehow manages to embody love and freedom, two things that sum up everything I have ever cared about in life. Next on the list is a book I find lots of people are disappointed in. I love Looking for Alaska, I think it is the best thing John Green has ever written. I think The Fault In Our Stars is incredibly overrated, the most average thing I've seen. However, Looking For Alaska, a true masterpiece. Alaska is every girl suffering from severe depression, trying to find answers, stumbling around, looking for temporary happiness in thrills, trying to avoid ruining others because deep down you know you're a walking disaster. And Pudge is just is the guy who thinks she's a mystery. It's a book that portrays a romanticized image, only to rip that image away from you. It's like a train running right at you, and you know it's coming, and you are powerless to stop it. It's a book to read when you need answers, not because you get them, but because you don't. Following, we have my favorite author, Tony O'Neill. The walking, talking definition of underrated. Tony O'Neill is vile and disgusting, and not for the weak-hearted, or maybe even the weak of stomach. But there's always something to be found in the disgusting. My personal favorite, Down and Out on Murder Mile, a true story. It begins, have you ever loved anything as much as Tony loves drugs? Probably not. To pimp his wife at the time out for drugs and to get raging mad when she won't suck a guy off to fuel their habit, to not care about her or anything else. But what is the strongest force on Earth? Love. He says something to the effect of, I know I'd have to quit or she'd have to start. He talks about his choices not being between his wife or the girl he is in love with, because that's really no choice at all. But a decision between a life with drugs, or a change in the normal, the seemingly impossible, a life without drugs. All of this has come from memory so I don't recall the exact date this book was completed, but Tony O'Neill has been clean ever since, and is still married to the girl he fell in love with. And is still completely, so fucking rad. He didn't lose anything by getting clean, but gained a writing career, a wife, and a daughter. A book to embody hope.

30 Day Challenge, Day Two: Something You Feel Strongly About

The obvious answer here is politics, a topic I think all Americans should feel strongly about. We are entering into uncertain times. Times some people are joyous over, and some are deeply saddened by. If you know me at all, you know, I'm avidly against Trump. I don't think electing a reality star who has absolutely no political background and can't seem to take anything seriously, was a good idea. I don't think a president who attacks public figures, Meryl Streep, Arnold Schwarzenegger, etc. was a good idea. I don't think a president who runs to social media when they've had a bad day, like a twelve year girl was a good idea. I don't think a president who doesn't advocate actively for Planned Parenthood, although none of the money they receive from the government goes to abortions, is a bad idea. I think a president who hires a woman who has no experience in education, knows nothing about public schools, and is wanting to take money from them to give to private schools, is a bad idea. America has already dropped down on the totem pole. We are no longer the smartest, most intelligent country in the world, however, we still act as if we are. I don't think a president who signs executive orders as a means to bypass Congress is a good idea. I don't think a president who tries to ban people from a country based on the idea of freedom and welcoming, is a good idea. I don't think a president who makes white supremacists feel empowered is a good idea. A president who makes derogatory comments about woman is not a good idea. A president who is perceived as a racist is not a good idea. A president who divides a country so strongly is not a good idea. America is country where minorities, people of color, women, have had to fight for their rights, ancestors who gained the right to be equal, and now to live in a society where they feel they are not equal. The LGBTQIA+ community feeling as if they are in danger, is not good. Here in America, we take care of our own. We take care of everyone equally, because we're all different here. A president who doesn't find that important is something I can't see supporting.

30 Day Challenge, Day One: Five Ways to Win Your Heart

I think as we grow up and older, the things that matter to us change. The things that make us stop and take notice of people begin to differ, especially in such uncertain times and with a divided society. I think the first thing to win my heart is kindness, which sounds absurd and standard, but you see so many people, not even necessarily mean, just caught up in their own lives and world. People often forget to notice that the person beside them needs help, whether they intentionally forget because it's convenient for them, or they literally just cannot see it. I think the second thing is humor. A common thing most people say, but I think humor is a little different to everyone, and you're using a little word to sum up a lot of meaning. You want someone who can make you laugh, genuinely laugh because they said something you found funny. You want someone who understand when you make a joke, without you having to explain it to them. Someone who can take your smart-ass comments and handle them and know that's just a part of who you are and knows better than to take you seriously. Someone who shares the things you're lighthearted about and sees the world the way you do. Third would be someone who has the ability to apologize. Apologizing is not and never will be one of my personal strong suits, so it's something I highly value in other people. The ability to apologize means you have someone who can admit they're wrong, someone who can step up and end a fight, someone who knows the value of stepping down, someone who is willing to put their pride aside to keep you. It's a sure fire way to show someone that they're worth it to you. I think the fourth thing I value in a person is passion. Why would you want someone who cares deeply about nothing? You want someone who can speak life into something. I care about many things deeply and intensely and they are very essential to the core of who I am as a person. I don't want someone who is so uninterested and involved in life. It's what we are, alive. And passion makes it clear as to why. The final thing is a bit hard for me to decide on, but I thing it's someone who compliments you. Yes, compliments. All people need someone who feeds them. I don't mean telling someone they're pretty everyday, I mean yes, but more than that, being able to tell someone that you love them, and they're doing a good job. There will be things in life your partner will work on and work towards and it's important to have someone acknowledging that. Yes, I see you and I see what you're doing. You're not being ignored, and you're effort is not unnoticed. I appreciate you and you matter.

One For My Inner Orphan

I know there are days when you don't know, many days, most days when you don't belong. And it's okay. Just because you've never felt at home somewhere doesn't mean that things can't still happen for you. Just because you don't feel understood doesn't mean that people don't care for you. Just because you don't have a home yet doesn't mean that you will never get one, and until then there is appreciation to be had in all the in between places. There are many things still open to you, things you haven't done yet, seen yet, said yet. It's okay to tell your sadness to pack up its shit and leave, and it's also okay if you don't yet seem quite able to do that. Life isn't a competition and once you find your home, it will be great, beyond anything you could've dreamed.

One That Is a Part of the Story + When The Realization Hit

Sailor sat, black cotton shorts and old white t-shirt, feet propped up on the desk, Boston record playing Amanda softly in the background. The girl sitting quietly, obviously deep in her own thoughts. As these thoughts run through her head, a realization starts to form in her head. She loves him, without fault, without question, and coupled with the absolute certainty that in some space or time or universe, they will belong together. Before any actual effort comes from such a realization, the girl is interrupted by a figure standing in her door. A girl, skinny as a rail, and a hundred pounds soaking wet, with the whitest white blonde hair hanging halfway down her back. "Hey, are you ready to go?"

"Oh, sure I guess. Where are we going, Kenzie?"

"Dinner, of course. I'm starving."

"Ok, let's go."

Sailor sat in the car, music playing softly in the background. She had been planning to write Mason a letter for four years now. It had been three months since their friendship had come to an abrupt end. Turns out, unrequited love really does get in the way. The idea in her head of being in a bar, sitting counter, listening to the band. All of a sudden, a man sidles up to the counter and takes a seat. She glances over and it's him, Mason, same red hair, same soft smile, but now in a man's body. However, his idea was more immediate. High school sweethearts, marriage, but Sailor could never shake the feeling that they weren't ready for that. Him, too immature. Her, too broken. Eventually, such different ideas caused such a big rift. But now what? She had to go through with it. She had to write that letter. She had to take the chance, even if nothing happened. Sailor was never one for sitting back and doing nothing.

One That Went a Bit More In Depth, But Mostly Stream of Consciousness

"Why do you do this?", he asked. "Why are you so hell-bent on destroying everything, why do you live to see your life in flames?"

"I don't know," she said.

"Are you scared?"

"No."

"Who the hell fucked you out so bad that you feel the need to destroy good things. You can't ever leave things alone. Maybe you think you don't deserve happy things. Maybe you're just that damn scared of getting hurt. So fucking fearful that you can't even begin to accept a relationship with anyone without attempting to self-destruct. Did he do this to you? Did he fuck you up so bad that no one will ever be able to reach you again? Do you hate yourself? Because you don't hate me."

"Maybe no one cares enough to try. No single human being will ever again care enough to put in that type of effort. People want efficient and people want easy. If you're difficult, if you're not open enough, talkative enough, quiet enough, happy enough, all of a sudden, you're not good enough. People are willing to put in enough effort to give themselves an A+, to get a high from trying to save you. They want a little bit of effort and then a lot of cracking. Well, I can't crack, not for you, not for me, not for anybody. I cracked once, just the once, and I don't think I was ever quite whole again. There are so many things inside of me so completely broken, and I'm not entirely sure there will ever be any way to fix me. I self-destruct and ruin because I know no other way. I don't know how to put faith in a person, to believe them without doubt, to trust their ability to stay. People are fickle, never a sure thing, unless that sure thing is the complete and total capacity to fuck you up."

One From a Look Through Time Two Years Ago

Final things I think you should know: I don't know if this will be my last message, I would like to give you peace of mind and say yes, but it probably wouldn't be true. You know, this whole time I kept thinking that it was just about finding the right words. Words that would touch your heart. But here's something I think you'll care more about. The actual story. I bother you because I miss you. That plain and simple and selfish. And not the person you were a year ago, not the person you were when we were together, the person you are right now, in this very moment. Have you ever missed someone so much that you can feel it inside you, you can feel it in every bone in your body, every beat your heart makes. And I keep thinking if I could say one thing to you, one thing you heard, what would it be? And the two things that come to mind are so basic, I've said them to you before, you've said them to me, and we've said them to other people. But maybe, just this once you'll hear my voice, and the sincerity behind my words. You know there's this quote by Rumi and it says "you have to keep breaking your heart til it opens." I was in a thrift store today looking at books and I lost it, then again, I lose it everywhere. But I was thinking about being that giant bookstore in Georgia and wanting and wishing more than anything in the whole world that you were there with me. I know as soon as I got home that day I apologized to you for whatever we weren't getting along for. I remember that overwhelming feeling of love, even in the middle of this argument. And in that moment today, my heart shattered, not shattered the way it did the day I left but shattered open. There were things that I didn't even realize til today that I should be apologizing for and I'm sure there are things you can think of that I still don't realize I need to apologize for. So for every single fight we had, I'll take blame, I'm sorry, every time I message you, I'm sorry, every time I ever made you feel inadequate, I'm sorry, every time you think something terrible about you or me, I'm sorry. Originally, I wanted a chance to explain. I thought if you could hear my side of things, it'd make sense to you, and honestly, it probably would, but I don't care about that anymore, I quit caring about my explanations a while ago, they don't matter, all that matters is I'm so fucking sorry. I've had various thoughts ruminating in my head these past few day. By not coming back, are you also punishing yourself? For being a "bona fide loser." Did you not going back have anything to do with me and my presence being here? Do you think I wouldn't like you anymore? Do you think I'd try to make you quit drugs? So here's the second thing I think you should know. I don't care what you've done, I don't care what kind of state you think you're in, I don't care who you think you are or what's left of you or who you've become. I love you. I loved who you were, I love who you are right now, and I love who you're going to become. Love isn't based on circumstance, I don't love you as long as your personality stays that way, I love you, regardless of all else. Without strings, without conditions, and love covers all wrongs. I will always love you, no matter what. I'm sorry and I love you. Shitty line, not well written but wholeheartedly true. Now there is something I would like to give you an explanation for, not because I feel the need to but because I think you deserve it. I know you say it started to feel like you were walking on eggshells and here's why. I don't know if you can remember this but when we first got together, you and Andrew had had a falling out or something, and you guys weren't hanging out. But you started up again. And do realize how fucking stupid this is about to sound. I know you know that you and Andrew bring out the immature in each other, and that's how you were acting, not towards me but in general. And it was starting to get under my skin, and I was trying so hard not to say anything because I didn't want you to even consider quitting Andrew to make me happy. I should've talked to you about it, but I didn't and I guess those feelings came out in other ways. And when you were talking about coming back, you kept asking for proof that I would stay. And I didn't know how to give you that. But I know now. My biggest fear was living without you. And now I am, and I can honestly say it is hell on Earth, pure unadulterated hell. And there is nothing in this world that would ever make me willingly pick this. I know you said that I'm the one that created this hole inside you, but I'm also, the only one that can fill it. I want to. My offer will always stand. I will always love you, always want you.

Potential Excerpt from Aforementioned Non Existent Book or Just One That Hits Too Close to Home

"Do you love me," she asked.
"Yes," he said.
"Why? I'm so damn reckless, so damn destructive."
"That's one way to look at it."
"What's another?"
"You are so alive, so determined to feel. So content on feeling the warmth from the sun, content on standing in the rain, content on looking up at the stars in the sky. So content on passion for the ordinary, until it becomes extraordinary."
She thought for a moment. Then responded, "but sometimes I'm so awfully dead inside. Sometimes I don't even know who I am or what I want? I'm not even sure I'm alive. Sometimes, I think my brain could just explode, all my thoughts scattered on the wall for everyone to see."
"Is that why you'd rather be alone? So no one can see?"

One From a Good Day

I wish you could've seen me today. Not because the short hair was starting to suit me, or because I look good with a tan. But because today, I'm trying. I'm trying to let the vastness of the lake remind me how small some things are, and how much space others take up. My toes digging in the sand anchor me to the day, the 24 hours in front of me. Today, I'm excited. And today I wish you were here to see something we both spend so much time thinking we've lost. Hope. I wish you were here to see the best parts of you flow through someone else. To see something other than the ugliness you've come to believe surrounds you. Because you're so much more than you can see.

One to An Old Friend

I remember being in high school, feels like forever ago now, and having a moment where I felt something for you, and a moment later in time where you felt something for me. Two people whose own separate universes could never line up at the same time. I also remember a fight, a big one. I think, perhaps you got into some business that was not yours. I also remember a year later. A whole year went by, and I am a different person, scarred and broken, and confused, mostly by my own self. At work, sweeping out a basement, I check my phone and bam there you are. You're apologizing for this time last year. Why? Why did you think of me now? We have all graduated and moved on with our lives, but here you are. Why am I worth it now, when I must not have been a year ago. Then, it begins. We start hanging out, not all the time, but two people who hang out with each more than anyone else. We are both busy with our own lives, so we do lots of breakfast, but is there really a better meal to celebrate with someone? Then, you met her. The girl you have been waiting on since your last heartbreak. She is new and unknown to me. I get dropped, and I just accept it, because I mean really what would I do anyways? My life goes on too, past things become current things and I find myself in a new relationship too. All good things must come to an end eventually though. It's another year later, and once again, my life is completely different. You come up out of the blue again. This time with an invitation to hang. I accept and you show up, with her. She is nice, awfully chatty though. Not really what I saw you ending up with, but she seems good. We chill and you drop me off, safe and sound. And like that, you're gone again, just a whisper on the wind. It's been some odd number of months now, and this time, I come to you. I still end up with more questions than answers. What did you want from me? Am I only worth a thought once a year? What was I to you, if anything? Why?

One From Where I Was Angry (hurricane was a strong word)

If any of you would quit your selfish behavior for two seconds, you would know that I don't have any interest in attempting to get him back. For starters, I am sorry. Not because he deserves to hear it, but because it deserves to be said. No one is perfect and there are so many things I could've done different. And for the other thing, do you have any idea how desperate I must have been. I asked him because he was two minutes from me, and when you're stuck and you need out, you'll take whatever outlet you can get. I know you two like to live as fast and as cold as possible, but not all of us have that luxury. Grant is a tsunami, a hurricane of disaster in my life. All you two think about is your own misery, never once accounting for the misery you cause other people. It's ok to destroy others and beat them down because people have done it to you. I may fuck up consistently, but at least my intentions are noble.