I have too much. Just too much of a lot of things. But I can’t stop buying stuff. And I can’t seem to let go of things people give me that I really don’t need and I really can’t use. 

It’s starting to really look like a bad episode of hoarders. 

I don’t understand where the attachment comes from. I wasn’t always this way. And I wasn’t always into getting stuff. Gosh, I sound like an addict. None of this makes sense. 


11 years

Early this morning I was gently roused from sleep. Gentle lips against mine. Warm, moist tongue teasing my mouth with that minty taste. Hands caressing my breasts under my nursing bra. A breast exposed to the chilly air, and enclosed in his mouth before I could blink. A sigh. A final chaste kiss on the lips. And a softly whispered, “bye honey, I’m going to work.”

It’s been eleven years since the day he moved in. I don’t remember the exact date. He doesn’t always greet me good morning this way. We’re not always happy. We’re not always loving. We’re not always patient or kind.

But rare mornings like this make it so perfect.

I can’t forget you.

But I’ve stopped trying to. I’ll never forget how good it was while it lasted. The warmth. The excitement. I was swept away. I’ll never forget the way you always smelled. And how it stayed in my room long after we’ve finished the pizza and Coke. I remember your hands and how mine always felt in them.

But it was only a moment. I loved it while it lasted. It was the blink of an eye. But you were always too good to be true.

I remember the good. And I remember the pain when you walked away. I remember blaming myself. I remember running away from people who loved me after you did.

I remember.

But that’s all there is. I just remember you and everything we had. Yesterday is just yesterday after all.


It’s a struggle. The burden of the past is unwanted but I just can’t seem to shake it off. The deep seated desire for fairness drives me mad. I want justice that is not mine to give.

I want to forgive. I really do. I want to forgive people who will never be sorry and people who will never apologize. I want to forgive people who will never stop being mean. I want to forgive the mother who broke my father, the father who drove me away, and the friend who betrayed me. I want to accept it all and walk into freedom.


It rears its ugly head when you least expect it. It’s a struggle to get it under control after the bite. Insecurities bleed out of you leaving streaks of embarassment all over your universe.

I don’t belong.

I forgot the pain of being excluded. I forgot the burn of jealousy. I forgot what it was like to be uninvited. I forgot the misery of not belonging.

But today, today I remembered. And it hurt just as bad as the first time. I wasted hours of my life crying. And yet it still did not stop hurting.

I don’t belong and it stings.

My patience is running thin.

I’ve been really short with ny kids and husband. The little things really make me snap. And I’m not usually like that.

I hate getting mad. I hate losing my temper. All it does is make me feel bad for losing control.

I am exhausted.
I really need a break.