Welp…. I guess it was time friends. Might help me to get it off of my chest anyway. 

I have no idea where to start. A few posts back I confessed that I know I love him, or it had occurred to me that I had those feelings for him. We had a whole paragraph about love being a gift. A lot and nothing at all have both happened since then. 

I am a poker player most of the time. It’s a great metaphor because I hold my cards close to my chest, but I also only let people see like 3 out of 5 cards so it seems like they know what’s going on with me. It’s an old habit. Hard to break. Serves me no purpose anymore. 

My only excuse has ever been self preservation. No one tells everyone everything right? Well, it started to feel more like bluffing my way through life than being genuine, and I hated it. 

After I realized how I felt, I did what I always do: gave it time to sink in and for my heart to tell me what to do. Any time I do this though either the heaviness of my secret vanishes or it just gets heavier and sits on me till I can’t breathe. I was gasping for air by the time I saw my way through this one. 

I decided, since I’m no longer making fear the ruler of this heart or head, that I had to tell him. 


Just thinking about the process it took me to come to this conclusion makes me nauseous. I questioned God’s will on this one. I second guessed my own feelings. I looked for soooooooo many other solutions to this revelation. None came. I had to crack open my heart and serve it to him on a plate. With a smile on my face. 

Here is where I tell you- some things are both hard and easy all at the same time. The truth feels good to me. Even the bad things feel liberating because I’ve gotten to a place where I don’t care if someone judges me. That’s not my problem. That’s there’s. 

Sooooooooo…. how to deliver this important message? I had already written him two emails that I’m almost 95% positive he never got. He hadn’t responded to texts. What else was there? 

Mail. I had his address. And a beanie he’d left at my house that no longer smelled like him. *I know. I know* I drafted a lengthy 3 page letter. Just excessive. It somehow seemed to just write those three words and slip it into the envelope wasn’t enough. In for a penny in for a pound I guess. 

The hard part came after my package, beanie and letter, came back to me. I cried buckets because I didn’t understand. My heart was broken, not by him, but by God. I had prayed, meditated, waited till I felt in my heart it was the right thing to do, and all for naught. The day it came back to me I ugly cried in the car and yelled at the man upstairs. 

You’d think that’d be it right? I did what I could. I worked up the guts, put it all on paper, and it was “unforwardable”. *sigh* 

I tossed that padded envelope into my backseat and looked for my way out of feeling like fear had bested me yet again, and made my timing crap. 

By coincidence (or maybe not since everything is part of a bigger plan) I drove by his old job and saw his truck there. I called my number one advisor, bestie extraordinaire, and she told me I’d just have to march my butt in there with said returned package if I wanted to finish what I’d started. After all, she said, you had the guts to write it and send it. This is just more… in his face. Personal. 

I’m not lying when I say my fingers and toes were all tingling from anxiety by the time I finally made myself do it. But I always forget… talking to him, seeing him, it’s like… being home. I’m not sure it could ever feel anything but right. 

But I’m skipping the best part. 

My gut, my deep down intuition, is usually SO right. I’d felt like there was likely a story and that he probably hadn’t just ghosted me for almost 3 months because he didn’t care, or I didn’t matter. He may be ghosting me now, but it would be for a very different reason. Again, I’m jumping ahead. 

Yes, he’d had to move. His phone was shut off. He was, is, back at his old job, and I know from the look on his face that things have been hard. I just wanted to hug him till everything around us became fuzzy, out of focus, and unimportant. 

But life isn’t a movie. It doesn’t go how you want. It’s not easy and painless and perfect. It’s hard, and messy, and complicated.

We probably talked for no more than 10-15 minutes but it felt like longer. I just wanted to stand there, and smell him, and hold him, forever. 

The conversation doesn’t matter. The words spoken don’t matter. Just the time spent and the sparks that arced between us. I knew it would change once he had the chance to read my rambling profession of love. It was all I could do to just memorize his face. Just in case…. 

I will say that I gave him my number again, but have no real hope of hearing from him. It’s a giant leap from chemistry to love and one that most people don’t make without more time spent. I am not mad, or angry, or hurt. The purpose was never to convince him to love me back. It was just to give love to him. To make him feel… good. Full. Perfect, as he is, in someone else’s eyes. I think everyone should feel loved just as they are. 

I know this sounds like feeding an ego. I don’t feel that way about it. I think love is a gift. You give it to people who need it. You share it, and lift others up. You speak it when it’s true. You express it in kindness, and… it’s never wrong. True love for your fellow man is just that. Love is pure. Love wins. 

So, ok. Here we are. I’ve stepped off of the biggest cliff in a long time. It’s not likely end as I’d want. I have no regrets. I wouldn’t take any of it back. 

I won’t pretend to know what he thinks or feels. I’ll possibly never know. Men struggle with expression of feelings and thoughts in the best of circumstances, and as mentioned, he’s nowhere near even semi ok circumstances. There’s a lot on his plate, and so many things in line ahead of trying to date anyone, let alone some random girl he’s known for a year, but only seen sporadically during that time. I’m lucky if he still considers me a friend. 

I’m not making excuses for him. I don’t need to. He will do what’s best for him and I have no judgement. If I know anything, it’s that he will do what’s necessary for himself and his sweet baby boy, always. That’s as it should be. 

I’m grateful. I’m such a different person after meeting him. There are things he said, and the way he made me feel… I’ll keep those always. Regardless of how it seems on the outside looking in… he was good for my heart. 

I’ll keep him in my prayers, as always. God has plans for him. I can feel it. 

My heart is glad I was brave. It’s full and beats like it’s never been broken. 

Maybe, one day, later down the road, AZ and I will cross paths again. I can’t imagine ever feeling anything for him but love and knowing how things are with him, maybe he is my home. Or maybe he was just sent to remind me of how it feels with someone that you have real, pure chemistry/compatibility with. 

Regardless, I’m so thankful I met him. 



Hello friends. It’s been a couple of months. I was stuck in my head for a little bit, which tends to happen with me. When I get quiet I’m really working on something.

I’ve been standing still. There are so many times in life that I treaded water so I don’t drown. Just survive from day to day, paycheck to paycheck, breath after breath, until I no longer think about it. During the last couple of months I was actually making what felt like progress. I was focused and driven and doing what needs to be done to get to a better place in life. 

The last few weeks, I came to a full standstill. I was really down for a couple of days in the middle. It feels like I’m wading through a giant vat of molasses. Barely making any progress or forward movement. 

There’s a ton of things to explain here… starting with AZ. But let’s be honest… I don’t have the energy to relay that right now. Just don’t. 

There is no shortage to the men, aka vultures, circling right now. I seem to be attracting all kinds of attention that, honestly, I don’t care about. Three at work alone. 

Here’s the part that will sound bad: I’m used to it and it doesn’t impress me. I’ve had two guys hit on me at the grocery store alone in the last month. I don’t find it flattering, I’m not egotistical about it, it doesn’t help my life. I’m pretty sure part of why it happens is because I don’t care. I’m not paying any attention to anyone but me and my kid (and my friends a little) at the moment and that’s why. I’m decent looking and carry myself pretty well, I’m not overly insecure, and those are things that are obvious when I have my ish mostly together. Obviously, when I’m down or stressed that shows too. 

Here’s where my point is… I need a guy who sees me. Not just my face. Or my boobs. Or… whatever. Someone who really sees who I am. Deep down. It’s possible. It’s happened before. Recently I think even. I’m not going to mention him here again. My heart hurts a little right now so, we’ll get back to that story much later. 

What I mean by sees me, is understands on a deeper level who I am. He can see my heart. Knows I try really hard to be good to everyone but somehow still protect myself a little. Someone who sees that no matter what, I’d try to give them the world and still not feel like I’m amazing or perfect. Because that’s who I am. Just me, trying to put as much love out into the world as possible. 

The last guy who I could feel peering into my soul a little… may not ever be back. It’s really up to him, and he’s going through a lot of his own stuff. I’d love to help him, but I’m not sure he’ll let me and I may have pushed him away with my honesty. I didn’t mean to. I just thought he should know the whole truth, as I know it. 

Only time will tell. Till then… I’ll know when another guy sees me. My ratio isn’t good, but sometimes, lightning strikes and I get lucky. 

It’s been almost a year since it happened the last time. I wish… that one would just come back, and stay. I could get lost in his eyes. 


Sometimes things reoccur in your life for a reason. You may be struggling with something or not paying attention. Regardless of what it is, that thing will present itself to you till you pay attention. My word for the year is “fear”. I have to conquer it one little bit at a time. When I left my husband and stepped out into the light again, I was completely terrified. I had no idea how I would afford everything, or live alone again, or see my son as often as he needed me to. It was…. awful.

I got settled in here, and started to feel comfortable again, and realized I still had so many things I was afraid of that I needed to deal with. I still haven’t filed. Money is a constant worry. My autistic son starts kindergarten in three weeks. SO MUCH STUFF. I promised myself that I would live fearless. That I would find the love in myself, and focus on the positive energy around me and in me. I focus my thoughts on that every day. It’s the first thing I think of in the morning when I wake up. How is today going to be a positive one for me? How am I going to conquer the fear that still lives inside me?

One of the first things I’ve decided to do is…speak only truth. No matter what it is or how I feel about speaking it out loud, I will do it. No more repressing the things I think, or that go through my head. I need to be clear here, when speaking the truth it is MY truth, and no one else’s. I’m not expressing anything mean or hurtful or selfish. These are the things that I feel for others or that I think they should know. Everything is done in love. EVERYTHING.

When you look at the things you fear very carefully, you realize that you’ve manufactured a bigger thing in your head than is necessary. Most of my fears are insecurity based or in regards to rejection. I have a lot of social awkwardness still and I feel like I may never completely defeat my anxiety. One day at a time.

In the meantime, I tell people when I feel things for them. Appreciation, love, concern… all of the things that I think in my head about other’s welfare are now expressed to them somehow. It is working to unburden my heart a little, but I find that on days that I am tired or not feeling my best it is harder because my instinct is to crawl back into old routines and my own little shell to regroup. It is exhausting. It’s like a constant fight with yourself to be better than yesterday while still dealing with today’s new problem or issue.

Fear has no real place or foothold in my life. I have so much I want to do, and so many things I want to experience. Fear and Love can not live together in the same heart and head. You have to choose one.

I choose LOVE.

Follow the Signs

I’m a recipe user. I can cook, you best believe, but I still feel there is something to be said about not always just “winging it”. I like to be instructed sometimes because I don’t cook for a living people. I’m no Martha Stewart or Pioneer Woman, although God  bless Ree, love her. Not the point.

When I put together Ikea furniture, or an oscillating fan from Costco, I follow the directions. It makes my eye twitch watching someone else just throw stuff together and then end up with like three screws and a washer left at the end and no idea why 2 weeks later the handle of the trampoline for our son has fallen off… you get my point.

Since my philosophy in most areas I’m not the expert in is to follow directions, then I suppose it’s time I followed that in another area of my life which is- the bigger plan.

I know I’e been discussing God a lot lately. I would apologize, but it’s not real to how I feel. I feel like I’m waking up after a long hibernation type sleep and realizing that I only feel good when I leave it all up to the big guy and stop fretting so much. I know this doesn’t work for everyone and that not all of you believe. It’s ok, you don’t have to. I can see you next post where I may or may not be still posting about spirituality. Peace and elbow grease!

For the two that are left hanging in there with me (maybe one in a half) here is what occurred to me today: there are so many signs pointing me towards moving on and forgetting about AZ.

Aside from the lack of communication with him, which in itself is the biggest reason, God has been telling me through other people and things. I have gotten some very clear directions before from The Almighty, or a higher power, or however you refer to him. I’ve been standing on a public street, severely depressed, and fretting over something and been spoken to by a stranger about the very thing I’m worried about. That my friends, is God. You could chalk that type of thing up to coincidence but…I know better. For someone random to tell me the exact thing I needed to hear, and they would have no idea that I needed to be told that… It’s not just a one off. It’s happened several times in various ways, and I just know that all it takes is listening sometimes.

Over the years the clearest way I’ve ever gotten an idea of what I was supposed to do was through these lines of communication, or just an overwhelming feeling that I need to flow my heart about stuff. So far it’s been pretty amazing to see what happens when I’ve just trusted and run with whatever “directions” I was given

I’m not big into social media. I have this blog, and the standard-Snap Chat, Instagram, Facebook, Twitter-all on my phone, but really they are time wasters. Something to do while sitting on the toilet if you will. Sorry for the crassness, but let’s just be real here. So, I have all the stuff, but my posting is limited, and I’m mostly just an observer rather than a participator. Except for this blog, I don’t share much online. Lately the posts I’ve been seeing on FB are weird, and about the value of a woman, and the type of man that deserve them, but I’ve let it go. Then I started turning to IG a little more, and there was a lot of interesting things there too indicating a new season of life, moving on, that kind of thing. The books I’ve been reading, and this drive and motivation for something different is coming over me lately. Finally,  but not lastly, my friends are now randomly telling me to get over it. I haven’t spoken of him in weeks and yet, here we are.

My feelings aren’t hurt that others see something that I didn’t till now. I firmly believe that all of these things are God’s way of telling me to focus on other things and not think about him anymore. If it’s meant to work out later it either will, or it won’t. Maybe the point of meeting him to begin with was simply to feel love again. Maybe it was to remind me that I’m capable of it.

All signs are pointing one direction, so for me to turn my back and walk the other way is asking to just do things the hard way. It’s inviting hardship into my life. I’d rather not. I have faith I won’t end up alone, and I’m not even worried anymore about that.

I don’t see my feelings going up in smoke simply because I’d like to wall off my heart again, by the way. Life isn’t that easy. If I saw him on the street tomorrow things would still flutter in my stomach and I’d still wanna see him smile, and smell him, touch him and sit next to him. It isn’t going to be like I can just forget him forever. He just shouldn’t have a central place in my thoughts right now.

I might be the only one that feels all the feels. For now the road is under construction, and the signs tell me to take a different route.

So let’s just keep it rollin’.


I have conversations in my shower. I do it frequently and it’s not always with the same person. I do my thinking in the middle of scrubbing my body and rinsing soap out of my hair. While waiting the appropriate amount of time for my purple shampoo to insure no brassy-ness creeps into my blonde, I debate things or explain things to people who would likely be glad they aren’t there for my tirade. 

Lately those conversations are with AZ. The man I’ve recently realized I love. We’re having a long drawn out silence at the moment and my mind, and heart, has lots to say to him still. So… we converse, or me and my loofah do at least, while I’m buck naked and drenched. No, he looks nothing like a loofah. 

I’m always amazed the amount of words I can come up with when no one is around to speak those words to. It’s like there’s a lag time, my brain is buffering, and in the moment I’m left without a thing to say. It’s so cruel and yet, a perfect illustration of my life. 

The first time he “disappeared” was around Christmas. I was puzzled, but hopeful it meant that he was happy, working things out in life, and just needed to move on. We met at a rather bad time for both of us so I wasn’t mad, I had nothing but good thoughts and vibes for him. I prayed for him and his son often and there was peace in my heart. I thought I’d learned something, his purpose in my life was complete, and that was it. I was after all… no one to him. 

I don’t mean that as harshly as it sounds. It’s only meant in a truthful way. We’d met, chatted, been friends plus, which amounts to an attraction that hung in the space between us, and that was it. I wasn’t family, I wasn’t a girlfriend, and I was at best… a friend. Not a close one either. The kind of friend you know you could be with but are too afraid because: it’d be too good, it’d be very deep and intimate, you’re not ready. The kind of friend…. you keep an arms length away. Get too close and you’re likely to fall. Hard.  

Pretty sure it wasn’t just me that felt it either because, as I’m sure you assumed already, he came back. If I had to guess, because we’ve never talked about it, I’d say he’s drawn to me and he’s not 100% sure what to do about that. Guys don’t think with their hearts the same way women do or can. 

Seems clear to me that when drawn to someone you need to either roll with it and see where it takes you, or ask yourself why you’re not rolling with it. Or why you’re drawn to them. Guys get all weirded out about clingy girls, and commitment, and till death do us part. I’m not saying that’s AZ’s problem… it’s anyone’s guess what’s up his ass. At this point… I’ve given up trying to figure it out. 

When he popped back up shortly before New Years he was sweet. Said he’d missed me, was interested in how life was going, normal stuff if we were just friends. We clearly aren’t, but the effort was appreciated. 

There have been silences between us since, and not all were his fault. I got my hopes up early on that we’d end up sittin’ in a tree, k-i-s-s-i-n-g, but I should have know that the timing was still off and it was a pipe dream. So, I did what any scared ish-less chick would do- I tried to get over him. 

Yeah. I know. Tried. Obviously I either didn’t try hard enough, he’s just that hot, or… and this one I’m foggy on, but maybe God does have a plan for us. All I know is this-it’s not a coincidence how I met him, how it went after, that we’ve gotten to this point, or that my picky ass heart chose him. It’s just not. 

It just occurred to me- no matter what you believe, if people are meant to be together then they are. It’s not always an easy, well lit, meticulously maintained path to get there, but you end up where you’re supposed to be regardless. 

Now, because I do believe in God, I can’t just half ass that. I can’t say that God helped me find strength to make it this far but then dropped me off here in cow country and said “fend for yourself”. Since I believe he has a plan for me, the perfect guy picked out, a white picket fence somewhere with my name on it, then nothing AZ or I do to try to derail the relationship train should work. Unless, it’s not the plan. 

I’ve been a part of a couple very special, meant to be, kismet kind of relationships. Neither of my previous experiences went smoothly, to plan, or frankly should have worked. They both changed me, brought me to maturity and adulthood, and fortified my belief that true love exists. It is a thing people. 

With all of this said, I still have so much hanging out there, unsaid, between AZ and I. In the last 30 days we discussed dating, he had a health crisis (the resolution to which I’m not privy to), I did what I could to support him, and he… vanished. Again. He no longer works where I do, I’m not sure if he can/will come back, and… I try to prepare myself to never hear from him again. 

“Why is it up to him to make first contact?” you may ask? Because I was the last “contactor” and he was the ghoster. I can’t be the girl that chases him down. That’s not attractive or part of my nature anyway. I did what I could. He either lost his phone, broke both his thumbs, caught a nasty virus that rendered him comatose, or died. Or, and this is the worst scenario, he just ignored my last attempt to maintain contact. I’m hanging in there hoping there was a tragic double thumb war incident. 

So, now I’m talking to him in the shower, almost daily, saying things I didn’t get to and may never get to now, and asking myself: when do I call it quits and put an end to the waiting altogether? What am I actually waiting for?! If it’s going to happen, then you better believe it will whether I stew every day about it or not. 

In the interest of feeling better, and being happy, I’m now going to consider our one way, hot and sudsy convos, complete. Praying is always welcomed and encouraged but the “I need to tell him ____” time needs to be done. 

For all I know…. his thumbs are in splints and he’s driving his truck around town only using his fingertips. Not my issue to worry about. 

He knows how to find me. God will nudge him if it’s in the plan.