Screw It

You know, I used to sit around and dream about what my life would be like when I finally got where I was going.. What marriage and children and living would be all about.. I think most little girls are just like that, I guess.. but who knows? Not me, that’s for damn sure. I don’t rightly know much about anything nowadays, and I’m having a hard enough time working out my own dreams to stop and think seriously about anyone else’s.

Shitty, but it is what it is.

A year ago I’d have probably wondered if that last statement made me an asshole or not, but today I just really don’t care. Now that makes me an asshole.

O freaking well.

Nowadays I sit around and dream about what my life will be like when I finally get where I’m going.. When my kids are all grown and the man that I’ve stood by has gone..

Will it all come together somewhere down that invisible line we spend most of our lives toeing in an effort to live long and prosper?

Again, who even knows?

I just want to be happy. That’s all I’ve ever wanted really.. Someone to spend my old lady years with; who will love me and maybe not laugh at my jokes, but take notice of me in any case.. I’m tired of feeling invisible. I’m tired of walking on eggshells when I should be dancing on air. I’m tired of being alone..

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Nightmares and Dreamscapes

Will there ever be a valid explanation for this chaos I call life?

Don’t get me wrong, having been given the gifts of free-thinking and will, I am all too well aware of the fact that the choices I make are my own.

I hope that something gets better one day, ’cause this shit has got to improve. Won’t be long before there’s nothing else I can lose and I’m tired.

I’m barely holding on these days. My fingers are getting sore. I’ve lost my grip and there’s nothing I can do about it.

Don’t let me drown..

Don’t let me die away..

Don’t let me fade into the nothing of the darkness in my soul..

My Teardrops

If I showed you my teardrops

Would you catch them like rain?

Maybe store them in jars

That are labeled with PAIN..

Would you follow their tracks

From my eyes down my cheeks

As they tell all the stories

That I’ll never speak.

Would you stop them with kisses?

A hand in my hair?

As you whisper that life

Wouldn’t always be fair.

If I showed you my teardrops

Would you show me your own?

So that when I am lonely,

I’m not so alone..

What it is.. (and what it isn’t..)

My ex husband was an asshole. Plain and simple. He was rude and he was mean and he had a raging temper that he couldn’t control. Not at first, of course, but the signs were all there. I just couldn’t see it.. or maybe I didn’t want to. I don’t know.. But even now, ten years later, I can remember being thankful that at least I always knew what he was feeling and what to expect. I can still hear his mom saying, “Hey, are you married? Then you’d better learn how to deal with him.”

I tried. I really did. I stuck it out for a long time in ways I never will again. I almost lost myself before I found the strength to walk away. 

Lately I find myself looking around at how much things have changed since I left. How much I’ve changed.. I’m not even the same person anymore. It took me 30 years to realize I had any worth at all, and I won’t go back on that for anyone no matter how much I love them or want their attention. 

I matter. 

What I want matters. 

How I feel matters. 

If it doesn’t.. then I guess I’m not where I should be. 


I’ve been remarried for a while and now and live a different life.  My husband and I have our moments, of course, but we’re a team. A package deal. We just work..