I found peace

I found peace in the crisp Autumn air
in the birds chirping over there
in the sun melting into my skin
in the small tingle of the wind.

I found peace in your stare
in knowing that you were there
in your efflorescent laugh when it’s tangled with mine
in the way that your fingertips fall down my spine.

I found peace in you
like I found peace in mother nature
in everything that’s true.

That’s a gift that no one could have given to me
but you.



She put the lid down on the toilet seat and sat her bare bottom on it, feeling the shock of its chill against her skin. She leaned forward, putting her head in her hands as she listened to the water beat down against the shower floor.
“I don’t understand,” she whispered to herself, “I don’t understand.”
Since she has made her debut into the world of singles she has yet to understand how it works or why.
“Maybe I just feel too much,” she huffed in her distress.
She pushed the curtain aside and climbed in, the icy water stabbing into her skin – she got closer, until it was hitting the back of her neck and sliding down her body, leaving her numb.
She instantly knew what she had to be…
So cold that she became numb.



you make me melt.
i didn’t think i would ever melt again,
but here i am
on the floor.
this time it’s different.
when i look at you
there’s a small fire erupting in my stomach
that quickly catches all of the pieces
and turns them to mush.
but you see,
my body may be melting,
but my soul is not
and what a difference that is.



We were cruisin’, sailing our way through the efflorescent greenery of Santa Barbara, wind whipping through our hair, laughter filling the trails that tailed behind us. It was a beautiful day.

Then, in an instant, we found ourselves stranded – a broken bike on a trail in the middle of the wilderness, with a simple fix and two clueless 20-somethings. My instant reaction – ‘It’s my curse, of course this would happen to me.’ So we sat and waited for someone to go by that might lend a helping hand. We waited and waited, person after person flew by. Finally, then, some runners slowed their pace to ask if we were okay and without reluctance I simply stated, “No” with a giggle. Well, overall, they helped us and even gave us the heads up that the chain was loose and would soon again pop off (which it did, 2 more times on our ride home) along with the closest bike shop.

My point is not that there are still nice people in the world – I have quickly come to not be surprised by this since I’ve moved to Santa Barbara, but really, what I took from this was simply that little holes like this I often stumble over (sometimes they’re pits and I fall in) always, always, always without fail lead me to light. Always. I am the luckiest human alive to live such a path-stumbling adventurous life. I may trip and even sink more often than most, but it has made me me. I know, ridiculous how a broken chain can make me feel so nostalgic, but it did, and for even that I am grateful.


She laughed and then looked at me, smile fading from her face…

“I’ve known heart break my whole life. Family, friends, boyfriends… but never this. Never you. You actually made me believe for the first time that trust existed, that friendship did, that family did. I couldn’t have a normal one so I made my own and it consisted of you. You, telling me when I was wrong and helping me find the solution. You, agreeing and lifting me up when I was right. You were my number one, and I trusted that. I trusted myself to trust you. I even wrote about you…”

She laughed again, dwindling a small rock in her hand, “I guess it was all a lie…”

The rock was me, and I was tumbling through her life and back into the dirt.



As the train rode away and I left my love behind, it was then that I realized fairy-tales only happen in the movies.

I read his messages asking me to stay and to talk, but I could only sit on the subway, begging the doors to close so I didn’t have a chance to run after him because that was so badly what I wanted to do. That was the fairy-tale ending, but I didn’t. I sat and watched the doors, waiting for my chance to be out of reach, lying to myself that it was too late to get off – lying to him that it had already left.

Fairy-tales don’t happen in reality because reality doesn’t allow it.

The fairy-tale is what we always want but sometimes the fairy-tale isn’t always the right answer, which I suppose doesn’t necessarily make it a fairy-tale, then.

I sit now, with my heart hurting, hanging in the bottom of my stomach, wishing that I could have stepped out of those doors and kissed him one last time – wishing I could even see his beautiful eyes blink just one more time, even if they weren’t looking at me.

I never in my life knew someone so beautiful and it hurt so deeply.

The couple kissing in the seats to my left, torturing me. Even the flowers passing by remind me of him. Nothing has ever hurt so deeply.

That’s all I can say. That’s the only way I know how to explain it. I am hurting, so deeply.




Sometimes we forget how to be what someone needs when they need us the most, simply because of the pressure on us to be what they need.

Never have I wanted so much to be what he needed that day. Every time I stepped past him, every time I looked his way, I criticized myself – “Should I have brushed by instead and gave some affection? Should I have used a different facial expression?”

Ridiculously so, I exhausted myself from trying to be enough for his happiness, and ended up being nothing at all.

I suppose the people who love us, love us and choose us because we already are what they need, without even trying to be.