Missing You

Lay me down to sleep. Kiss my face and tell me that you love me. jack-xij-oughton-poem-poetry-article-high-contrast-image-woman-standing-alone-0011 Look deep into my soul, see my scars, my tainted and damaged self. Love me anyway.

I run my fingers across your skin, and listen to you breath. I love each and every blemish. Your laugh is like music to me, and your eyes make my heart dance. I can’t get enough of you.

When you are away, it is like I am away from me. There is something missing from within, but when you lay close to me, I connect with myself. I am healed.

Some things you can never undo. The shattered, tattered pieces of you can never be mended. I can never fix what I broke, and though I stand whole, I am missing my soul. I am missing you.



I am officially one year away from being 30 as of Friday, and I hate it. I feel like 30 is the age that you officially become an “adult”, and though I have a firm grasp on many thing, I don’t feel like I have a grasp on everything I should. When I was younger I imagined that at 30 I would at least have a solid family. Right now I am single, I am the rock, the gel of everything about my family. Alone. I am also very sick, and have a hard time being the solid foundation that my girls need. As they grow older, it is more and more apparent that they need another parent in their life that can support them when I am fragile. I need a rock to stand side by side, and not just for me. For them. I want to provide the solid family that I never had, and that they deserve. My girls deserve to see (and feel) what a loving and respectful man really looks like. I can’t help but mourn for my dead relationship with my “Dead Horse” (FYI- Referring to my ex Jeff, mentioning him is like kicking a dead horse. Broke up 6 months ago) and what would have been possible if we were both ready for that commitment. This man loved (and I am sure still loves) my girls, and my girls love him. Just last night my littlest girl (almost 4) reminisced with me the love that “Dead Horse” and I shared, and how wonderful it was to spend time with him and his kids. stock-footage-boy-and-girl-playing-fishing-at-the-city-pond She brought them up because she wants them to come to her birthday, and I had such a hard time explaining that though we still love them, they can’t come. That it’s just not possible right now, but it is ok we still love them. She asked for them to come over to see us, and again, I had to explain that they can’t. She cried, and I cried inside.

I don’t want to go through this. I don’t want to have to tell my baby that the only man she has every known as a solid part of her life cannot be a part of it anymore.. again. I broke it up, and though it was for good reason, I just wish it hadn’t happened. Today I told Kendall (my work bff) that I wanted to be married within the next year. The look that she gave me was a look of both disgust and doubt. “You have to actually like someone first!” – This is true. I have dated quite a bit over the last four months, and met many many men. I have liked none of them enough to see them more than a few times, and NONE to see on a regular basis. The last few months I have been liking men less and less at a faster rate. One date. Three conversations. I find something about them that I just can’t get past. I compare them over and over to someone I couldn’t make it work with, and it is awful. I am perfectly aware of how ridiculous it is, and I constantly tell myself to knock it off. I have been thinking of him less and less, but I have also been dating less and less. hugging-man-and-woman-large I find that those likely go hand in hand. I no longer cry over the fact that after two years, he was with someone and committed within a two week period of our relationship. It hurts, but not nearly as bad as it did, and I don’t really resent him for it as much. I imagine that as these feelings dissipate, I will be more and more open to dating and finding less and less faults in the men I meet.

I know I want a family. I know I want to commit myself to the right man, and I want to create that family I never knew. Don’t think I have this fairy tale version of what a marriage is, as I have been married before and I know it is a challenge. But I also know that the challenge of a married is much less than the challenge of being a single mother. The love that two people share when they commit themselves to a marriage is beautiful. I am aware that I will likely not find that and get married in the next year, but I want to be much closer then than I am now. I want to give the love I have inside to someone that can return the favor. Someone that is ready for what I am ready for. I want to fall into the arms of someone that wants me in their arms. I want to hug and kiss someone who wants me to hug and kiss them. I want to come home to someone who wants me in their home. I want to give all of the above, and then some. I want to see him smile at me when I am at my worst. I want to hold him when he is at his. I want to share everything I have to offer, and I know it is a lot. I want to still love him when he is angry with me, and him to love me back. I want to know that though I am a pain in the ass, he also knows that I will be great when I get through my mess. I am human. A broken human. I cry, I hurt, and I yell. My home may be loud. There may be a lot of yelling and fighting. It is full of over dramatic, head strong girls, but it is also full of love. It is full of so much love and sweetness. It is full of hugs, kisses, family time and wonderful moments. Call me selfish, but this is what I want.

If wanting love is selfish, then I am horribly selfish.

Happiness is…?

Tomorrow I have a Doctors appointment. Another one. I have long lost count how many appointments have been made, for what reasons, and how they turned out. At the end of the day, pain still lingers inside me, and as much as I wish I could wish it away, I can’t. My body isn’t processing this right, and this is happening. Now this is wrong, and I hate it. I seriously… seriously hate it. I get this feeling that people think I am a hypochondriac. No. I KNOW people think I am, and it pains me. Each and every ache and pain I feel, each churn of my stomach, each swollen bit of skin I am becoming more and more hopeless, and worse yet, bitter. I know that I go back and forth between feeling hopeful and feeling hopeless, but I can’t help it. When you have multiple chronic illnesses, it is hard to maintain a steady hopeful outlook on life, especially when they are painful. Tonight while I was grazing through photos on my instagram feed, I saw the most beautiful sunset photos. I saw wonderful captures that filled me with so many different emotions. The beauty being brought to me through still life from all over the world, and such talented photographers doing it was just so wonderful! I miss photography. I miss having the energy to do it. Tree-Sunset-Reflection To drag my babies around, getting them in and out of the car. Now my feet and hands ache from the cold air, and the changes in weather, that by the time I get off work the last thing I am even thinking of is going out and about. I dread driving my car half the time because it is a stick, and I cringe at the thought of having to run errands. This is what I am right now? My knees are worse because of the cold air, and the muscle aches I am suffering as of late are barely bearable. I can’t go a day without pain meds, even with the gabapentin, and I am just exhausted. THIS is what I am?

I was raised in a poor polygamist family, with barely enough to eat and most of our food from the local food storage donations. My mom moved us out of and into another polygamist family, but during the four year span in between she worked two jobs to support us. Both fast food type jobs, and she attended college (briefly) before getting married. Even when I had hopes and dreams, they never really went far in my future, as I never really thought I could have them. I didn’t think that someone like me could accomplish much of anything, and even when I was kicking ass and taking names at what I was doing, it was a “in the moment” kind of thing. My ignorance caused a young pregnancy, though I was smart enough not to marry the “boy” who knocked me up, I still married an abusive man later. In and out of bad relationship after bad relationship, all the while standing my ground. Being strong enough to withstand each and every blow, whether it was self inflicted or not! But I still took it one day at a time. I have always envied those who had the ability to dream. Girls like me? We don’t dream. We survive. But now.. now I can barely do that, and now I am dreaming. Now I just want to strap my camera around my neck and snap away! I want to share my vision of this beautiful world! I used to operate four machines at once, pack, and ship order after order of paper products. jogging-weight-loss-plan-4 I once moved 100% by myself! Everything me and my three kids owned! I used to jog three miles a day, and could dance all night, multiple times a week and still work a 14 hour shift with only one or two days off a month. I am a mother! I am a fighter!! I have been through hell and back, and I have withstood so much! But now? Now I can’t even eat some french fries cooked in the same fryer some breaded chicken without getting knocked on my ass for three days.

Now I can barely get out of bed in the morning. Now I ache, and I wince with every movement. Now people look at me like I am disgusting in my broken and bloated body, and all I want to do is hide. Call me weak, as I feel that I am so much more than I can express, but I just want to hide. The thought of getting all my gear together, and heading out on a photography adventure with my kids alone wears me out. I am tired before I even move. Getting dressed in the morning most days exhausts me, and I find myself getting to work late almost every day. I used to be that person who was on time, and ready to take the world by storm. I hated being late, and I still do, but with two small children (who fight NON stop) and myself to get ready while my body malfunctions is just so overwhelming. I don’t know how much longer I am going to be able to do this, and keep up this facade that I am ok. I have been giving subtle hints to those I know that I need help, but as I suspected, the offer of help only stands when I don’t actually need it. The few people who I know would be willing to do whatever they could for me, I am too embarrassed to ask directly. Maybe I will get to that point, but those who I have asked so far have only been willing to go so far in a situation so rough, that they don’t even know where to begin. I can’t blame them, because I am not sure if I was in their shoes if I would touch my life with a ten foot pole.

Right now I am very unhappy. I am thankful for many, many things, but I am unhappy. I have decided you can be both things. Unhappiness does not mean you are not thankful and/or grateful for the things you have, and that have been given to you. Right now my unhappiness stems from the fact that the things I felt like defined me, the things I have always loved, I can no longer do. I want to be happy, but happiness is what? Happiness does not live here right now.

Create a free website or blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑