Be well.

Three months without you and my brain can’t take it anymore. I can’t get you out of my head – not during my morning coffee, not during my quiet evenings, and certainly not while I sleep.

In these unlucky times, I feel so lucky to see you, feel you, and taste you in my dreams. Be well. I hope to see you so soon.

m e l t

sometimes, i feel
b r o
k e n
i n s
i d e

you leave shards of glass in places i hide.
i take them out carefully and wrap myself up.
but instead of walking the other way,
instead of moving on, facing another day…

i see your face, and i walk towards you.

i jog.

i fucking run.

i’m not d e s p e r a t e,
s t u p i d,
c o d e p e n d e n t,
s p i t e f u l.

you make me m


The saddest part is

I dont get to care. I am not allowed to rail at you and scream how embarrassing this is that you have so much more potential than you are showing. That i KNOW the kind of pain you are in. That i KNOW why you photoshop photos and lie and manipulate. That you segregate your friends so that lies are better hidden and smaller groups are easier to use.
You believe you will never be good enough. So this creation, which is bullshit, is your passport to world.
But i dont get to tell you that because your disease is so strong it only turns the truth into more cancer.
I dont get to tell you that you ARE enough. That the lies and games never ADD to your being, they subtract. You are selling yourself so short and giving power back to those that set you on this path.
I dont get to scream that you are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen because you see only lies. I thought for a long time that i was the one of little faith but it is you.
No faith in love or goodness or yourself.
These are the reasons my heart breaks every single day. Living without you is easy. Living with the knowledge that your time is wasting away and you are in pain is infinitely harder.
But Im still praying and hoping.
“Let the angels go where you can not”


things can be easy.
we can live fast in the slow lane
things can be so, so easy
not complex, but happy and plain

you and i, me and you
against all obstacles, we’ll do what we gotta do

just listen and follow my voice
i’ll show you what you need,
you’ll always have a choice
but i’ll show you how to succeed
simple steps in the right direction
but i’m not always going to lead
you gotta show me some affection

i need to be loved in the right way,
not this “you vs me” type way
it’s us, together,
change your mentality
so no matter the situation,
we won’t weather
this isn’t just a fallacy
something that doesn’t exist
it’s real, true and deep,
something most people miss.

it comes down to the little things,
i keep saying that, I know
lil notes, random hugs,
at the end of every day,
love is what you need to show.

fuck the technicalities,
fuck the toxic behavior,
i want this shit for real,
growth is mandatory,
from both sides of the hanger

you hold me up,
and i’ll hold you down
when we come up,
we ‘ll see who is still around
cause if i got you,
and you got me,
it ain’t nothing else in this world i’m gon need.

Dear Dennis

I don’t understand why you are still on the back of my mind. I’m in love with someone else right now and have moved on with my life. We have broken up for almost 10 years. I don’t get why I still reminisce our past love. We even met up last year, we got closure. I was in love with what we had, but not who you are now. We are different people now, we have grown up. We aren’t who we were back then.

Are you the one that got away? Are you my soulmate or something? I wish I knew what I’m feeling. This absolutely sucks. I just want to move on.

Successful Suicide

Dear A,

Do you remember several years ago the role you played in pulling me safely through my suicide attempt? Not exactly something you forget, especially the ordeal I put you through, and I can only imagine the relief you felt when you learned I made it safely into the squad car and was escorted to a mental health clinic. I failed to kill myself, but you succeeded in keeping me alive.

What if I were to tell you that I actually succeeded, and you, in turn, fell short?

I conceded my life was forfeit a long time ago. Conglomeration of events and poor mental health space was the perfect recipe to take action on bringing this pointless existence to an end. Yet, I’ve wallowed that failure for years now, wondering why I must continue to suffer just so those around me don’t have to. Even lately, over the past year and a half, I’ve considered a follow up attempt. One you would not save me from thanks to the destruction I’ve wrought.

As I look back on past and current events, however, I’ve come to accept that maybe my suicide was successful after all, and that I did indeed die in that mountain cabin. I’ve been caught in a hybrid of purgatory and hell, an invisible slave to those around me. Most of all my own family. I’ve gotten married since. Had kids. Been employed and bounced around. But I’ve been nothing but an empty shell, welded shut with a painted smile, living to please my spouse and rear my kids despite my crippling mental disabilities.

Truthfully, none of that matters as judgment has come early for me, and I’m sure you’ll be pleased to hear that. I am unseen and unheard. The depth of the well within me, which once I prided myself in having, has been sucked dry. I no longer read. I no longer write. I no longer am able to engage in meaningful and stimulating discussion and debate. My soul has withered away into nothing as I’ve pushed away the only people capable of nurturing mental and personal growth. My opinion has become irrelevant unless, of course, it is agreeable to my spouse. My emotions, although occasionally acknowledged, are brushed over and forgotten about. If they have a bad day, I must put aside how I am feeling to help turn it around. If I have a bad day, it causes them to have a bad day, and so I must put mine aside to help turn theirs around. I no longer have anyone who genuinely cares about how I am doing and who is capable and willing to help pull me through my own booby-trapped mind.

I basically just live to make them happy. I’ve tried igniting that spark of passion within me, but all attempts have been futile. It’s just cold and dark at my center, like the rest of the universe. My own faith had dwindled from an inferno to a fragile flicker, which finally went out a few months ago. Yet I find myself in church week after week, façade firmly in place, as I’m not allowed to be anything else. I’m pretty sure my spouse already knows or at least suspects, as I only put forth a minimal effort, but as long as their bubble remains intact and they can live in their own fantasy world, who cares, right? I am no longer my own.

Besides, I’m dead already, living out my judgment on this physical earth before being sent to the hellfire beneath it. It is no less than I deserve for the POS I’ve become. And truly, the knowledge of my earthly purgatory is the only thing keeping me from trying to make a second attempt on my life, because I know I’m already dead. There’s naught else for me to do except continue pretending to be who I am not and to fit into the mold I’m told to. Apathy has taken over and there’s no way out, now.

I’m sorry, A, that you were not able to save me. And I’m sorry that I punished you for it. But really, I suppose, I was just saving you from myself by letting you catch a glimpse of the demon inside me. I didn’t mean the words I spoke that night when I was drunk and you were right to be upset, but I cannot control the beast that has taken up residence inside my core. I’ve been consumed, and the me you knew no longer exists.

I do hope all is well with you and your family. Stay strong and live well.


Dear First Love

Dear First Love,
I love you. I have loved you. I always will love you.
I remember when we met; when we really met. After school in third grade, on a warm and sunny day. The sky was clear. I was standing outside, near the Garfield Elementary sign. The one that was crudely painted a long time before we got there. I was just learning how to use crutches; my ankle sweating through a poorly wrapped ace bandage. I was watching my younger brother and his new friend, playing and laughing; having a great time in their own little world.
“Our brothers are weird, huh?” You said behind me. I turned to see you, with your wire glasses on a round and chubby face atop a body you wouldn’t grow into for several years. We’ve been best friends since then. From when we called ourselves “minion buddies” to now “uniform friends”
On a Friday in sixth grade, Emily broke up with you over text while you and I were walking together to the playground after school. She told you I had a crush on you. Immediately, you turned to me and asked me to be your girlfriend.
We didn’t know how relationships worked back then; we were young. But eight whole years later and I still feel the same.
We’re basically the same person. No one can make me laugh as hard as you do. You understand and support my love for all things nerdy, even taking part when I rant about Star Wars. When I’m with you everything feels right; as if that’s how it’s supposed to be all the time. No matter how long we’ve been apart, it feels like no time has passed when I jump in the front seat of that little green truck you love so much.
There are so many things I love about you. I love the way you would hold me. I love the way you laugh. I fucking miss your laugh. I love the way you still talk to me every day even though you’re the government’s property in Japan, a whole 14 hours ahead of me. I love the way you look at me, and how comfortable you make me feel.
I don’t know if I just crave the innocence of the relationship we had at first, or the adrenaline of sneaking off to the lake with you when we were older and weren’t even dating anymore. I don’t know if I miss the connection we felt in the front seats of my car, or the way your hands fit perfectly with mine. But I do know one thing: You are my one and only love. I’ve never felt love like I have for you with anyone else.
You were there through the worst times in my life. You saw me cutting myself; you noticed when I starved myself. You’ve talked me off ledges and empathized with me.
You were there through the best times in my life. You were my biggest fan when I started MMA. You were so proud of me when I got accepted to my dream program at my dream college. Some of my best memories are with you. Stargazing behind the trailer mansion, “off-roading” at the city lake in your manual jeep. Blowing shit up in your backyard.
My family still loves you. Our parents are still convinced we’re meant to be. My brothers even thought we’d be married by now. You and I think it’s funny they won’t let us go but secretly it breaks my heart.
I still have the love letters you wrote to me as well as the turtle jewelry you bought me in middle school. Creepy, I know, but we’ve established I’m a very nostalgic person. Hey, I made the box in like eighth grade; I’m going to keep it.
We may be on opposite sides of the planet (6,201 miles to be exact) with completely different life plans, but I do know that one day we’ll meet again. And like you said, we’ll probably end up being those rom-coms where high school sweethearts bump into each other at a coffee shop in their home town and the spark is still there. If we don’t, that’s okay. I’ve moved on; accepted the fact that we most likely won’t end up together. I’ll be happy for you either way. You’re my best friend. You’re the love of my life.
Sometimes I wonder if I never should have broken up with you freshman year. I don’t regret it; I wouldn’t be the person I am today without the experiences I had without you. I wouldn’t have been able to explore and discover who I am.
I thank you for continuously showing me what unconditional love is and what it feels like. I hope I find someone that makes me feel the way you do, and I hope you find the same.
Yours truly,
Minion/Ace Ventura Buddy

P.S. I know this letter sounds very much like a serial killer, but I promise it’s not like that. I’m not some crazy girl who’s still obsessed with you; I’m not going to lose my marbles and skin a cat if you end up marrying that girl, Savannah. I’ll be happy for you. Happy you found someone who will give you the same butterflies and heartache I have for you. Yea, I’ll be crying really hard at your wedding but I’ll tell you they’re happy tears so I won’t ruin your big day.

To Bundle . . .

Hey sweetheart…Long time, No talk.
You have no idea how much I love you…
My heart has been aching more than usual lately…

I shed a few tears today while thinking about you.. not sure why. I hope you’re doing well and I want the best for you, even if we don’t end up together.

Words can’t describe how much I love you, M.T. I wish you knew…

Sincerely yours,