He Reminds Me

My friends talk about how a person shouldn’t need another person to be happy, and they’re absolutely right. I don’t need another person to be happy; I was happy. I found happiness in the solitude, in my friends and family, in writing, reading, rediscovering myself. I’m weird and quirky, easily excitable, and so so caring. I fell in love with myself for the first time.

Something has been missing though. Something intangible and immeasurable, like the whispering of wind through the trees.

For the longest time, I thought I had a hole in my heart that could never be filled; I thought there was something wrong with me. But, I think, maybe the best things happen when you aren’t seeking them out, when you just let life’s current sweep you away.

I am happy. I’m happy with the growth and progress I’ve made and with who I’ve become.

But I would be lying if I said he didn’t magnify the happiness I’ve found 100 fold. He reminds me that I am worthy of more than simple happiness. He reminds me of exhilarating euphoria. He reminds me that I deserve to be challenged and utterly amazed. He reminds me of galaxies and constellations.

He feels like a hot cup of coffee next to the fire on a cold winter morning. He makes me feel electrifyingly alive. He feels like a gentle breeze on a sultry summer evening. He makes me feel calm and safe in a world full of disastrous chaos. He feels like everything I’ve ever been missing.

He reminds me that it’s okay to put my trust into someone again: that just because I’ve been hurt in the past doesn’t mean that he’s going to do the same. He reminds me that I’m a priority; our relationship matters to him. He reminds me that opening up and vulnerability are strengths, and I can trust him with anything I’m going through. And he always, always reminds me that I am worthy of love.

I can’t promise to never be irrational or absurd; I’m not good at keeping my emotions in check (no matter how much I try to convince myself that I am). I can’t paint him original art pieces because I think in words and feelings, and I can’t sing him beautiful melodies as my range is never quite on key. I’m not good at poetry or ballads, creating or performing. Honestly, I’m not good at much, but I can guarantee I’ll be good to him.

Vibrate Love

In the world we live in, it is soo easy to drown in the bad and the stressful things going on around us. Sometimes, we need a lifeguard to dive in and rescue us, and then take a breath. Just breathe and take a moment to think about the positives in your life that you didn’t notice through your tunnel vision.

Between the busyness of my day-to-day life and my professional life, it has been easy to fall into a negative mindset. Something minor goes wrong like not getting a text back from someone? Wow, something must be wrong with me; I’m obviously not good enough or pretty enough or smart enough. Got stood up not once, but twice? Might as well just carve the whole muscle out of my chest.

But somehow, for some reason, I keep letting people into my heart only to end up being hurt. Over and over. Constantly. Continuously.

I’ve been ignored and forgotten about, but I’m the type of person who will forgive you despite your bogus excuses. Oh, you got your arm stuck in the blood pressure machine at the grocery store? That’s fiiiiiine, no worries! Time and again: screw me over 19 times? *I* will apologize to *you* for not trying hard enough or for not wanting to bother you.

And no matter how irritated and sick of these games and the disappointments that I get, I refuse to let the world shred my hope. People will never make me callused and hard. This life we live needs more people who are open and kind. There is already too much bitterness and pain in existence, and we shouldn’t be contributing to the hate and anger. We should open ourselves up and be receptive to the positivity and sweetness that some are radiating.

This life is too short and our time here not guaranteed. So push through the hurt and the sorrow. For there has to be a light at the end of the dark, musty tunnel.

Lessons Learned

Dear Dad,

It has officially been 8 years since you last hugged me. 8 years since you told me to have a good day at school and that you loved me. 8 years full of questions without answers.

I know you were sick and struggling with a lot of things, and I also know you thought what you were doing was right and best for everyone. But you were wrong. You choosing to end your life was the worst thing for all of us.

You’ve already missed so many things. You never got to see any of your kids get their drivers licenses, graduate, or get married. You’ll miss out on your children-in-law, grandkids, and grand-dogs. You weren’t here to disapprove of my first tattoo… or my second, third, or fourth (2 of them are in your honor). You weren’t even there to dance with me or my sister at our junior proms. You’ve missed so much already, and there will only be more.

For at least the first few years, I blamed you. I’m not proud to admit that, but it’s true. I didn’t understand why or how you could leave your wife and 4 kids without any warning or explanation. We all had to grow up and adjust way too quickly — the instant we heard what had happened.

Now I understand that it wasn’t you who made that irreversible choice; it was the various disorders you were trying to deal with alone, going untreated. The alcoholism, insomnia, undiagnosed anxiety, and apparent depression. I wish every day that you had gotten help, that you were still around to shoot the breeze with, but losing you also taught me some valuable lessons.

I learned to be cautious around and weary of alcohol, often times being the designated driver. I didn’t even drink at all until after I was 21 and could legally do so. I learned to deal with my feelings when I’m anxious and talk about it instead of internalizing. And the most important thing I learned was that, no matter what’s going on in my life, no matter the circumstances, if I’m ever feeling overwhelmed and like there’s only 1 way out, I will seek help.

I’ve never felt the way you must have, and I hope I never do, but I also refuse to ever be the reason that another person would feel the way I was feeling for so many years.

Every day I miss you. I miss our talks when you would drive me home from school, the debates we would get into about current events and politics. I miss your smile and your goofy personality. I miss having someone to hug every single day, and I even miss that damn Cryptkeeper mask you would scare us with every chance you got.

I just wish you were still here.

Miss you and love you.

Always.