We Could Meet On Sundays

I wish I could start a group for women who are in love with married men. We could meet on Sunday's, and drink coffee, and eat lots of donuts in frustration.

So, there could be one woman in the group who speaks up, and says, "No, really, he said he was getting a divorce."

And I could watch eyes roll around the circle of the group.

"No, honey," one of them could say, "He's just trying to either fuck you up the ass or tie you to the bed."

Nods all around.

It's Summer

Summer time reminds me of my psychotic episode, the chaos, the terror, the confusion, the constant threat I felt of pending death--

Out of everything anyone could have said, I wish someone would have just told me,

"Hey, it's going to be okay."

But no one ever did.

Giants of Affection

"You see, in the beginning, love seems like it's boundless, endless, captured only by the imagination. It isn't until years pass before reality cripples and hobbles it.

Then we learn we are much too small in the face of the giants of affection."

--private journal dated May 17, 2013

Hard to Tell

"Your complexion is distracting," my new therapist said.

I think she meant that as a compliment.

Hard to tell though.

BAck Then

I remembered when it happened.

It was March of 2008, and I was brushing my hair, his smell was there.

I realized at that moment that I was experiencing something different.

If I could stand next to her back then, I would whisper in her ear that he will only break her heart.

But then again, she would only whisper back that she didn't give a shit.

Life was about broken bones, backs and hearts.

Changes

I'll never be the same. I know this now.

Moving On

"Almost everyone just moves on--not because it's easy but because they have no choice."

--personal journal, date: Feb 11, 2013