I stand still looking at the floor.
My eyes glued to the tiny shards of glass;
pieces that used to make up my cup;
fragments now splayed across the room.



New and Old Feelings

It’s been a strange couple of weeks.

I’ve managed to move forward in my healing journey while also reverting back to my old hot-mess-college-student self, simulatneously. I wonder what that says about my healing process. Thank god for the steadfast rule I’ve never broken.

Well since I moved to Boston anyway.

I made choices I regret a little (but not too much to be completely honest), and possibly had too much fun. At the same time I’ve pushed myself to be better about therapy and health. I haven’t found a huge success with it, but I’m still working through it.

Right now I’m struggling with the clash of new feelings and old feelings. Or maybe not the clash but a fear of just how similar they are.

Yesterday I met up with N, and it was different from what I had imagined, but oddly what I had hoped would happen at some point in my life.

(What? Does that even make sense?)


Your Wedding Day

A couple months ago, I had a nightmare.

In my dream, you proposed to your girlfriend at Walmart, with me just a couple steps away.

I woke up, heart pounding, head spinning.

No matter how much I tried to shake it off, to go back to sleep, I couldn’t get that image out of my head. The image of you on your knees, asking this other girl to spend the rest of her life with you, seared into my brain.

The only thought that circled my mind that night was: You are the one that got away.


Let go of them, darling


There comes a time in your life when it’s time to say, “Enough,” and walk away. I know deep within you lies a fear of ending up alone, rising levels of anxiety each time you lose someone special to a break-up, death, neglect, or distance. That makes walking away entirely too difficult.

And I definitely want to validate that, sweetpea. It takes courage. Sometimes, it takes everything you’ve got to ignore that text, reject that call, physically walk away, and defriend/unfollow them on social media. The amount of strength you find within yourself in doing so may astound you.

Let go of them, darling.


Stay Away

Stay away from people who make you feel like you are hard to love.


It’s Not There Anymore

It’s Not There Anymore

Tear me open, shred my skin;

Crack my ribs, and reach inside my hollow body.

Your hands grasp at the empty spaces,

demanding for my heart.


Proud Mama’s Girl

I’ve always had trouble sleeping. Even as a baby, my parents told me that I was fussy and never fell asleep or stayed asleep for very long. Even as a kid, I would wake up multiple times throughout the night.

In college my sleep schedule became more erratic to the point of being unhealthy for my well being. My anxiety worsened (perhaps due to the lack of sleep, among other things) which in turn negatively impacted my sleep. It was a vicious cycle I still have yet to escape. Even after college, sleep has been eluding me. And this time it isn’t because of my social life. I lie in my bed, trying to fall asleep for hours before finally falling asleep, only to wake up every two hours.

It’s no wonder I find myself feeling like a zombie at times.

Recently, I talked to my boss about these problems.

Instead of jumping to a list of things I could do to fall asleep (turn electronics off, melatonin, sleeping pills, meditation, etc., which, let’s be real, I know about; I’ve done my research and had a therapist), she asked me, “When did you have the best sleep of your life?”


Words I Will Never Say

Found in my diary:

It took everything in my power to pull away.

I knew if I had let myself, I would have fallen deeply, fallen head over heels, fallen nose over knees for you.

I would have drowned in your scent; I would have been overpowered by your voice.

I would have buried myself in your presence.

These are words that I’ve choked back, hoping my feelings will dissolve, hoping my heart will forget.

Conversation I Will Never Have

“I’m sorry.”

These two words tumble out of her mouth, no preamble, no explanation, no flourish, no nothing.

He stares at her, anger behind his eyes.

“What the fuck happened? You just disappeared without a word. And that’s all you have to say?”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

She looks down at her hands.

“I deserved better than that,” he says slowly.

“I know. I’m really sorry.”

“Well,” he says aggressively. “Are you going to explain yourself?”

“I don’t think you’d understand,” she says quietly.

“Try me.”


Fear of Sharing “Too Much”

I’ve always thought I was a direct person who wasn’t afraid of communicating, but I’m starting to realize that I suck at communicating.

When it comes to professional conversations, I am extremely great at communicating, especially via email. At my last job, my supervisors as well as my co-workers complimented me on my ability to write diplomatic, polite, and friendly emails. I love responding to emails and answering the phone. I think I am really good at building rapport with people on a professional level. There is an unspoken barrier that is accepted by both parties. It is not intimate to talk to these people, and I never feel vulnerable, and because of that, I’m great at communicating professionally.

But when it comes to personal conversations, I find myself shrinking away, avoiding confrontation. This isn’t how I used to be. I know that. I used to bring up tough conversations; in fact, I think I used to thrive on them. I loved the deep life conversations, divulging raw bits of my heart.

I’m not sure when I began to avoid conversations such as those. I don’t know when I became so deathly afraid of being vulnerable.


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