HOW is it only Tuesday???????
This is how you lose her.
You lose her when you forget to remember the little things that mean the world to her: the sincerity in a stranger’s voice during a trip to the grocery store, the delight of finding something lost or forgotten like a sticker from when she was five, the selflessness of a child giving a part of his meal to another, the scent of new books in the store, the surprise short but honest notes she tucks in her journal and others you could only see if you look closely.
You must remember when she forgets.
You lose her when you don’t notice that she notices everything about you: your use of the proper punctuation that tells her continuation rather than finality, your silence when you’re about to ask a question but you think anything you’re about to say to her would be silly, your mindless humming when it is too quiet, your handwriting when you sign your name in blank sheets of paper, your muted laughter when you are trying to be polite, and more and more of what you are, which you don’t even know about yourself, because she pays attention.
She remembers when you forget.
You lose her for every second you make her feel less and less of the beauty that she is. When you make her feel that she is replaceable. She wants to feel cherished. When you make her feel that you are fleeting. She wants you to stay. When you make her feel inadequate. She wants to know that she is enough and she does not need to change for you, nor for anyone else because she is she and she is beautiful, kind and good.
You must learn her.
You must know the reason why she is silent. You must trace her weakest spots. You must write to her. You must remind her that you are there. You must know how long it takes for her to give up. You must be there to hold her when she is about to.
You must love her because many have tried and failed. And she wants to know that she is worthy to be loved, that she is worthy to be kept.
And, this is how you keep her.
Everyone who reblogs this will get the title of a book to read based on their bio/posts.
Everyone. I mean it.EDIT: make sure your ask box is open please :)
Reblogging because more people need to like/reblog this so they can read lovely books.
I’ll reblog all the things today. I don’t care.
Me too please.
I am driving down a highway somewhere through Texas. There is a large Cherry Coke in the drink holder, condensation dripping and pooling around the loose change we need for the highway. It is warm and I keep drinking it. I am lazily flipping through country station, trying to find something I can listen to or laugh at—“This one! This one is absurd. I like it. I like it.” My hums come out captive, croaky, furtive, then strong. My hand whips out the window, feeling the dirt kicked up by tires and the sun and I wave (not on my own accord but the wind!) at every Volvo and car and motorcycle that goes by. Kid presses his face to the window. I think briefly about pressing back, but lean more into the seat instead. My back hurts, my shirt is sticking slightly to the seat. I contemplate buying cigarettes and roll my neck around in an attempt to loosen it. I sing a song I don’t know I knew. “Take a left!” An impromptu exit, paved by the gods with neon signs and flickering lights. We stop into a tiny dive for some tacos, warm and soft in a place that smells like tortilla and hisses steam. The salsa drips down the corner of my mouth, hits the wooden bench (rife with splinters, I’m sure), and onto the dirt. I drink a beer, cold. Back in the car, we watch the sky turn purple-pink, our bodies hoping for showers and beds and blankets. I flip to something like Patsy Cline. I kiss him on the cheek as he drives, lean all the way over with my seatbelt still on. It will be a long night and a long drive. Later, the stars begin to race us home.
That is all.
Yesterday I finished my dental journey. For the last several months I’ve been preparing for the end of the road. A day where I have a full set of teeth so I can eat normally, but mostly a day when I wouldn’t be ashamed to smile. Overall the pain is less than I imagined and swelling has been minimal. I miss eating but I forget about that when I see my new mouth :D. Take it from a girl in her thirties that now has a full upper denture, take care of your choppers kids!
Birthday #33 is officially in the books. I’m proud to say I’m in a much better place than I was this time last year.
That moment when you see that really great guy who’s been there for you through the worst phase of your life as more than just a great friend . Even more so when you see him having the same revelation …
I am not the first person you loved.
You are not the first person I looked at
with a mouthful of forevers. We
have both known loss like the sharp edges
of a knife. We have both lived with lips
more scar tissue than skin. Our love came
unannounced in the middle of the night.
Our love came when we’d given up
on asking love to come. I think
that has to be part
of its miracle.
This is how we heal.
I will kiss you like forgiveness. You
will hold me like I’m hope. Our arms
will bandage and we will press promises
between us like flowers in a book.
I will write sonnets to the salt of sweat
on your skin. I will write novels to the scar
of your nose. I will write a dictionary
of all the words I have used trying
to describe the way it feels to have finally,
finally found you.
And I will not be afraid
of your scars.
I know sometimes
it’s still hard to let me see you
in all your cracked perfection,
but please know:
whether it’s the days you burn
more brilliant than the sun
or the nights you collapse into my lap
your body broken into a thousand questions,
you are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
I will love you when you are a still day.
I will love you when you are a hurricane.
I am ashamed to write this because I know I’ve handled this situation poorly but I need to put it out there. I work in retail for a family run business. We truly are like a family so I think that makes this incident worse.
Last Thursday I was sexually harassed at work by a former employee of the store. This man not only made inappropriate comments, he actually reached out and grabbed my breasts. This occurred in front of the owners son. When I went to the owner to report what happened, the man came in the room. When asked if he did it, he said “yeah, just like this “and proceeded to grab one breast again. Nothing was said to him, and it was laughed about!
I am devastated and enraged by the fact I feel betrayed by my employer. I get that we all talk shit to one another and joke around but this is unforgivable to me. More than anything I’m upset with myself for not hitting this asshole and quitting on the spot. I need this job and I’m barely getting by financially as it is. I cant afford to be unemployed but at the same time I don’t know that I can continue to work in an environment that I feel unsafe in.
I hate how this has made me feel. I’m more self concious about what I wear now. (They were not on display by any means when this happened) I worry about him coming back in and what will happen. I’m just angry that I even have to deal with this shit at all.
Sunday’s have always been my least favorite day of the week. I get sucked into the blues /funk whatever you want to call it. Today is by far the worst it’s been in a long time. I’m stuck with a running recap of last night in my head. Now not to sound bitchy but for the last month, I’ve been patiently waiting and accepting excuses as to why someone didn’t have time to come around.
I understand that we all have things to do, don’t get me wrong. However as a woman who pulls 60 hours a week, keeps the chores caught up, keeps a dog alive and spoiled, and makes time for friends & family … I don’t buy “I’m busy “as an excuse. Especially from someone who is currently unemployed. Sorry if that’s harsh but damnit it’s how I feel. In an effort to be supportive I went out last night to the show (the one they’ve been so busy planning) . In all honesty it was not great. Thankfully there were tons of friends I haven’t seen lately and lots of alcohol to keep me distracted from the fact that after a month of “can’t wait to see you babe’s “… you guessed it… I got ignored!
Other highlights of the evening :
I was told my hair looks like a wig
Sketchy girl stripper dancing and humping the floor @ a dive bar took attention away from my wig like hair.
Kiddies this is why I stay home…