You said we couldn’t fix this. You hung up on me. You blocked my number. You’ve put up your walls. You’ve shut the door. You’ve sealed up your windows. There’s no way in to you now. I can’t text you. I can’t call you. I can’t see you. I can’t explain. I can’t question. I can’t reason with you. You’ve pushed me away...
I hate that you left me. I hate that I’m questioning my worthiness now. I hate that just as I am starting to truly love myself, you have me questioning if I’m lovable. If I’m enough. I hate that you’ve gotten into my head. I hate that your choices, your actions, your mistakes are making me think less of myself. I hate that I ironically feel the need to protect you. That...
I’ve been struggling with where this writing journey of mine is headed. In the last month, I’ve been drawn to do things that my soul has been craving. I’ve been writing. Taking photos. Updating my blog. Sharing my work. But where is this going? What is going to become of all of this? What is the end goal? I have no clue and today, my wonderful husband gently reminded me that...
The roosters crow. The hunting dogs bark. The sound of a car driving by on the 2 lane highway can be heard in the distance. A cool, crisp Arkansas morning breeze squeezes through the cracked window. The scent of earth dances in the air – soil, grass, the morning dew. Light shines through the sheer curtains and across the bed. My eyes open. There’s a smile on my face. I can hear the...
Today, I celebrate me. I celebrate who I was, who I am, and who I will become. I celebrate my thoughts, decisions and accomplishments. My wants, my needs, my goals. I celebrate how far I have come and my will and motivation to keep going. I celebrate my wisdom, perspective and contributions. My intentions and my efforts. I celebrate my peacekeeping tendencies and my yearning to tell it like it is...
Memories. Boxes of memories. Gathered items collected over the span of her life. Pieces of her life carefully placed in boxes and moved from house to house, as she moved from town to town. Pieces believed to symbolize moments of her life. Pieces believed to be made up of pieces of her. Pieces believed to define her, as she is today. Irreplaceable pieces. Year after year, more and more pieces were...
