Friday, November 18, 2011

Heartbroken Man Hate

I'm feeling a country-star approved level of heartbroken man-hate this week. My line has been crossed. I spent a lot of time wearing nice and understanding. It hasn't gotten me anywhere. I think I'll try on angry for a bit and see how that plays out.

Really, I'm not a long-term anger kind of girl. I'm the melancholy, cry it out and then" put on a good face" sort. But short-term, serious, Scotch-Irish anger, that I've got.

So today feels like a day for a little music. Heartbroken man-hater music. Don't you agree? Here's one of my current favorites. Enjoy

Tuesday, November 15, 2011


I don’t write much because you don’t want to hear what I have to say. It’s not pretty or sweet. It’s cynical and dark.
You don’t want to hear that I’m still broken and hurt. You don’t want to hear that I can’t seem to move on. That I’m stuck in emotional purgatory. Maybe it’s me that doesn’t want to hear it. It all echoes in my head.
I look in the mirror and see only the deterioration this year has caused. The dark circles under my eyes from too many sleepless, tear-filled nights. (I should just stop looking in the mirror.) When I can’t sleep I rearrange furniture. I’ve lost count of how many time I have rearranged the furniture since I moved. The rooms feel lacking. It’s amazing how much space one person can take up and how irritatingly empty the space feels when that person is gone.
The only pictures I take are of my kids. I think I may have lost my ability to see beauty in the daily. I see beauty and life in them. I want to protect them. I want to keep them in a bubble that no one can pop. I know the impossibility of that.
Don’t tell me to get over it. Don’t tell me that I’ll be fine. I get angry at people who tell me to move on. It may seem dark but this emotional mire is safe. I want to hear sad, heartbreak songs. I want to reread letters. I want to cry. Coming out of it means it’s really over.
It’s really over.
It’s almost been a year. I know that I need to figure out what it means to be without him. I have to find stable ground. I’m sick of the voices in my head telling me that waiting is worth it. That he’s worth it. What am I worth?
I’ve decided purgatory is just an upper level of hell.

Wednesday, November 2, 2011


I only spent $9 on Halloween this year and that was on candy. The kids made, borrowed, or used things they already had to make their costumes this year. I helped a little with pulling things together but for the most part they came up with their own ideas and made it happen. I love the creativity! They all looked really great. They all had a wonderful time trick-or-treating. And, after watching The Great Pumpkin, my hippie, butterfly queen, and Rapunzel all retired candy-full and very happy.