For Now


It has been a long time since I last wrote a post. That has mostly to do with graduate school, which is demanding and hard and rewarding all in one. It also takes up most of my time. However, I always feel myself getting pulled to write when I need to process my feelings. Writing can be therapeutic in that way:

Some hurt is impossible to put into words.

I keep trying to think of a way to make my experience a poetic, well-thought piece of writing that others can relate to. The problem with that idea is that it’s too clean. The real hurt is messy and raw. It doesn’t sound like a poem or fit into a certain amount of characters. It impacts every day of your life. It wells up during the worst times and breaks your heart in a way you didn’t know was possible. That is real hurt.

I thought I was past the time where I could feel this kind of hurt. I had distanced myself from those that caused pain. However, like most things, it didn’t work like I planned. So here I am, a mess again over things I cannot change. I feel powerless against it. Yet, sometimes I still feel like a warrior who will persevere through this. Like I will be refined through the flames. Sometimes I feel so small and weak.

And sometimes I feel selfish. That there are so many people who love me and choose me, yet it doesn’t replace the people who don’t. So I try to hide that feeling. I try to fit my hurt into a small, pretty box. I don’t let it be the real mess that it is.

But I have to allow myself to feel that pain. I can cry for the day. I can cry for the week. I can be angry. I can be not okay for a while. I have rebuilt my life through the rubble many times. I have taken pain and turned it into inspiration. I’m sure I will find my way to that place again eventually. But for right now, it hurts. And I have to let it.


Husbands Are Cool

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As previously mentioned, I met my husband when I was only 17 years old. We stared dating almost immediately and the rest is history. We have done so much together over the last five and a half years and I’m so thankful for every minute of it. I wanted to show a little appreciation because I forget to do that sometimes. So here are some of the reasons why my husband is my favorite husband I have ever had:


To my hottie with a body husband,

You love me even though I get a sudden burst of energy every night right as you are trying to fall asleep.

I have slowly added all of your comfy shirts into my “sleep shirt” collection and you pretend not to notice. Probably because we both know you are never getting them back.

You make my coffee with the perfect combination of milk and vanilla. I swear it tastes better just because you made it.

You are always wearing shoes. Even on lazy weekend days when we relax, you shower and put on your shoes first thing. Usually before you even put on a shirt.

Thanks for using your muscles to open every jar, bottle, box and can. We both know my arms are for show, not functionality.

You are the best audience for all my car ride musical performances.

Sometimes you fall asleep when I’m in the middle of a sentence and wake up 30 seconds later and try to play it off like it never happened.

Once a day I check my phone and have 5 missed calls from you because I always have my phone on silent. You love me anyway.

You like all my Instagram pictures, even the lame ones.

You come home for lunch on the days you work. On a related note, you never judge when it’s past noon and I’m still in pajamas. Some of my best work happens during pajama hours, okay?

You wake up in the middle of the night and run out in the living room with a knife because I heard a creak. I watch too many murder documentaries.

When I do the moonwalk you tell me I look just like Michael Jackson. My moonwalk confidence is through the roof because of you.


Anyway, those are just a few reasons why you are the best husband West of the Mississippi. And East. And all the other directions.

I love you Brock!