Perhaps love
In its most basic, genuine expression
Is simply two hearts
Friends
Family
Strangers
Showing each other our broken bits
Heart Fatigue
Feeling Unsafe in the Midst of Our Struggles
I haven’t felt safe for a while now.
I’m not referring to my physical safety — I don’t fear for my personal safety in any way. I have a roof over my head, I feel perfectly safe in my home, in my small town, and going for a walk around the park in my neighborhood.
But unfortunately, my physical safety is where any safeness I feel ends.
An Unlikely Golf Groupie: Fangirling My Way Through A Year of Pandemic Anxiety
As many stories do, this one starts with a cute guy.
But this story isn’t actually about the cute guy. It’s about the sport he is passionate about and introduced me to.
The sport that did what little else could — it calmed the overwhelming anxiety I started experiencing about six months into the pandemic. Anxiety that I have never experienced before in my life and that has kept me isolated and — as I like to joke — almost feral.
Golf soothed that anxiety…and my soul.
I Look Forward to Finally Meeting You, Love
Sunday mornings are for coffee and daydreams.
The kind that have me wondering about slow love.
Knowing glances over our steaming mugs,
Me baking scones for you, and you feeding me a bite of your bacon…
I wonder what you will look like,
Although that’s never mattered much to me.
I care so much more about what your soul feels like,
And how connected we are…beyond the day-to-day activities.
A Wistful Sunday, A Restless Soul
Sometimes When You Are Quiet, It Feels Loud To Me
“Sometimes when you are quiet, it feels loud to me,” my friend messaged.
That comment from a week or two ago has stuck with me.
Even though I still haven’t responded to the message.
Even in my ongoing silence.
A silence not meant to keep others out, but to protect what is left within.
To guard the little that remains.
Keeping myself safe because it no longer feels safe anywhere.
Turning Our Scar Tissue & Bruises Into Renewed Faith
Freedom for One, Please
I have a love-hate relationship with the 4th of July.
On the one hand, I am so, so grateful to have the freedoms that we have in our country.
And I am equally grateful for those who have fought to protect those freedoms for us.
The Magic of Musicals, Triggers, & Dreams That Don’t Look Like We Thought They Would
Lost Soldiers & Bruised Savior Hearts
An Almost-Feral Chick’s Plan for Reintegrating into Society, Post-Pandemic
A friend of mine admitted to me recently that he had judged me when I told him I was having anxiety about reintegrating back into society after the pandemic.
For saying that I felt almost feral and perhaps even a little agoraphobic — and not at all sure how I was going to prepare myself for leaving my house on a regular basis again.
Grateful Exhaustion On Her Soft & Cozy Battlefield
Her battlefield was soft and cozy,
Pillows and blankets strewn about,
Awaiting each and every soul who needed comfort…
Most often, her own.
I Am Done — & I Have Become Undone
I am done.
Done with the not-enoughness.
Done with trying.
Done with the hurt.
Done with all the tears.
Done with the heart-searing pain.
Are We Almost There, Love?
Are we almost there, love?
Because I need us to be almost there.
Probably not as much as you need it, though.
My heart is heavy and hurty and collapsing under the weight of all we’ve been carrying.
But I will not let it collapse completely.
We Can Witness Each Other’s Pain — But The Rest, Love, Is Up To You
There comes a point in life when the loss can seem just too unbearable.
A teenager who loses their group of best friends to the social wars of high school, a dear friend to suicide, and perhaps a bit of themselves while navigating the world at large…and then a fucking pandemic on top of it all.
It Was Up To Her Now — Just Like It Always Was
She took one hesitant step,
And then one more…
Wishing she felt more sure of the path before her,
But trusting her heart to show her the way.
It had not led her astray so far.
But never her own.
