Wednesday, November 25, 2015

i call her mother

My mother hates me. 

She is certain I deserve every horrible thing that has ever happened to me, and quite a few things I was blessed to be spared. 

I often wonder which she hates more, the part like him or the part like her. 

Tuesday, November 24, 2015

who knows why?

Sometimes "I don't know, I just got really scared" is the only real answer. 

Monday, November 23, 2015

this is new

I don't know how to be a girlfriend. 

I've always only been a wife and a mother. 

Friday, November 13, 2015

home for the holidays? ha!

How is it that you get to shirk all responsibility for your mother, very much as you did for me, your daughter?

How is it that you can be such a heartless bitch in your interactions with me? 

And then try to make me feel as though I don't deserve any better. 

How is it that I love you anyway? 

Friday, October 30, 2015


The happier and more content I am - the more comfortable I am in my own skin - the more I miss those I love. 

I would say it's the strangest thing except it makes perfect sense. 

Wednesday, October 14, 2015

asshole fits

People will often try to convince themselves, and others, that you are a horrible person, as if that somehow excuses the fact that they treat you like shit.


If you treat me like shit, you are an asshole. Period.

If I treat you like shit, I'm an asshole too. 

I don't WANT to be an asshole. In fact, I try really hard NOT to be, but I'm also not going to stand there and continue to be treated like shit by some other asshole. 

Then you make it even worse, and tell me that it's MY fault that you're such a fucking asshole. Really??  

If I had that kind of power I'd certainly turn you into something better than an asshole. In fact, I have frequently begged you not to be an asshole. But you seem to enjoy it. 

Thursday, September 3, 2015

How's it look?

It's so very pleasant to recognize yourself in the mirror, especially when you appreciate what you see. 

Divorce looks good on me. 

Wednesday, January 28, 2015


Today would've been your 39th birthday. Instead you've been dead for nearly 14 years. Somehow it still seems like yesterday. 

For the first time I can't say I'd give it all up. That bothers me. 

And yet, still, not a moment has passed that I haven't thought of you and loved you still.