The End

Her boyfriend of four years moves to LA. He becomes distant. He is, granted, overwhelmed by a new job, new coworkers, new city, new apartment, and new financial responsibilities.


His girlfriend is going through a really hard time, and she needs him. He doesn’t make the effort. He withdraws. They fight and at one point he asks her to compromise on a value she has held since the beginning of the relationship. She senses that something is happening with him, something he isn’t being honest with her about. He isn’t talking to her. He isn’t making her the priority anymore.


To her, her relationship with him came first. She considered them a team who made decisions together and talked about struggles and successes together.


Every night since they were together, they talked to each other, or at least touched base (unless of course one of them was out of the country or unable to for obvious reasons). But one night during the second week of him being gone in LA, he wasn’t reachable.


She was working a double. She was tired and stressed and wanted to touch base with her love. But he wasn’t around. She tried to think of the best, and not assume the worst. But something in the pit of her stomach ached so deep, she felt sick.


Something wasn’t right. No this wasn’t her being crazy. Well, maybe there was an element of crazy involved. But this was her knowing deep within her bones that something was terribly wrong.


The hours in the night wore on and she didn’t hear one word from him. His phone was on too, and the location app informed her that he was active and moving (because of course when one has the ability to check, they will; let’s not bullshit).


As she left work, she knew what she had to do beyond a shadow of a doubt. She had to fly to him. If he wasn’t going to talk to her, she was going to him. She had to. She didn’t want to spend one more minute with this deep sickening feeling.


So, without an ounce of sleep, she bought a ticket for 6am. She went to the store and cashed the check she just received from her last shift.  This wasn’t the best financial choice, but here’s how she saw it: go without a few extra things this month, or get those things and spend the whole time melting into a puddle of exhausted gut-wrenching dread? She chose the former.


She tried sleeping a couple of hours, but sleep was so far out of reach. She packed a change of clothes, changed into something sexy (in case this was all a huge misunderstanding).


She arrived at the airport three hours early. The cold, hard seats cut into her skin. She hadn’t eaten for two days, but she wasn’t hungry in the least. Once again, a sickening feeling overcame her body, and she began to shake, tears rolling down her pale skin. People were staring. She was past the point of caring.


A three hour flight felt like a never ending mountain she was trying to summit.


Finally the plane landed in sunny LA. The air was thick, and the sky was blue. If it was any other time, she would be smiling, happy to be there. But the gut-wrenching feeling hadn’t subsided. It was growing and permeating deeper and deeper into her body, soon it would be all that she was.


She got a ride to his apartment.


She didn’t have a key. He still wasn’t answering. She didn’t know how long it would be before he came to the door, but she was determined to wait.


She flew a thousand miles to see him.


A stranger soon showed up and let her inside.


She took the elevator.


Her heart was beating hard inside her chest. She could feel it inside her throat.


She knocked. She heard some muffled noises.


He opened the door.


His face displayed horror and shock.


“What the fuck are you doing here?” he asked.


Her already throbbing heart beat faster still. Why would he talk to her like that?


“I came to see you because I missed you and I love you.”


He didn’t invite her in. He stepped outside of the apartment.


“We need to talk.”


The four words that no one wants to hear. The four words that carry so much weight it crushed her completely.


That bad feeling came back.


She burst through the door and ran with everything in her to the bedroom.


She didn’t care if she looked crazy. She just needed to see what he was keeping from her because it was obvious he wasn’t going to tell her.  


He tried to grab her and run after her. But she was on fire. Nothing could stop the flames from spreading.


She saw a woman run into his bathroom. She was wearing a red towel or sheet.


She slammed the door shut.


The girl’s heart sank. She couldn’t believe her eyes. How could this be? Was this what she thought it was? How could it be anything else?


She beat the door.


“Come out, Bitch.”


No answer.


The girl turned to the man she had trusted with her heart, with her life.


“How could you do this to me?”


“It just happened,” he answered.


A pain emerged. A pain she didn’t know she could feel.


It was a pain she had heard of. But one she never thought she would know.


Yet here she was.


Life has a way of punching you in the face.


The girl felt humiliated. Stunned. Shocked. And tormented all at the same time. She felt sad. She felt betrayed. How could this person be in her home?


The girl may have lived a thousand miles away, but she considered him her home.


And now the home was burning. It was engulfed in bright orange flames. It was collapsing right before her eyes.


Suddenly, in this strange and awkward moment, she felt homeless.


”When did you stop loving me?” she asked.


“I’ve been thinking about this for awhile now,” he replied.


“But you never told me! I had no clue.”


“This is for the best.”


The girl started taking her things, the clothes she had left there, even though she had no place to put them in her carryon.


She punched the bathroom door.


“Leave her out of this,” he yelled.


“You need to leave. Just leave. Fucking leave.”


“You are a coward,” she said.


“No I’m not. I’m doing the brave thing by letting you go.”


“That’s bullshit. You’re full of shit,” she said.


She gently held his face in her hands and looked into his eyes.


“I could have loved you forever. I wanted to. I already chose to. I was ready. I wanted you to be the father of my children. You were it for me.”


He didn’t cry. He didn’t flinch.


“You are doing this. This is your choice,” she said.


“If you let me walk out that door, you will never see me again,” she stated.


He didn’t say anything.


“Let me give you a hug,” he said reaching for her.


“Do not touch me. I am not yours anymore. You don’t get to touch me. You don’t get to take care of me.”


And with that, she walked away. She didn’t look back. She walked out onto the streets of LA with black streaks of mascara  rolling down her cheeks.


She didn’t know where to go. She didn’t know this city.


All she knew was that her home was now gone. And she had lost her best friend.


So she sank to edge of the sidewalk. She let the shaking take hold. She let the tears come. She couldn’t stop. She desperately wanted to feel comforted, so she wrapped her arms around her small waist.
And she sat there for along time and tried to pick up the pieces of a life forever gone.


Sooner Than Later

My heart has been breaking a little bit more every day since you left me. The way you left has imprinted a black mark on my heart.

You want to get back together. I tried. I’ve been trying. Because damn it, despite everything I still love you. I do. And yes, if I choose you again we could maybe be happy and do this. But something in my gut tells me this is over now.

It brings tears to my eyes because this isn’t how I imagined our story ending. But how naive can I be? How blind can I remain? When you broke my heart, my eyes were opened. And I’m seeing things I didn’t see before.

I see flags I never saw before.

I’m holding on to a small hope that maybe, just maybe, all the words you said to me were a lie. I find myself hoping the image I saw when I walked into your apartment unannounced wasn’t true. I wish it was a nightmare I have yet to wake up from. If it is, please shake me! Please yell my name. Please rescue me. Now.

But it was all true. It wasn’t an allusion or a nightmare.

The image of a future with you has become foggy like the mirrors in the bathroom  after a hot shower. I can scarcely make out your reflection.

I don’t recognize you anymore my love.

I wish you didn’t do these things. But if it was going to happen, I’m glad it was sooner than later.



Fly Away



Yesterday I had to say goodbye. I said goodbye to a love I wanted for the rest of my life.

Goodbye feels so final, so dead and so gone. Part of me cannot comprehend the repercussions of this goodbye.  If I sit too long and think too hard about it, a deep ache climbs into my heart. I feel cold. And I get the urge to go home.

I want to go home.

But he was home.

And now he’s gone.

How can something I want so much be something that hurt me too much? When is enough enough? How much do I give, and how much do I loose? Am I wrong for hesitating after he broke my heart into a million pieces.

A future and a lifetime together felt so close, so real. I could almost taste it. I could see it inching towards me after years of loving this man. I felt confident in the choice I made.

But he broke me.

How can you move on from someone you grew to love for so many years? How do you even begin to pick up the pieces?

Walking away was one of the hardest decisions I have made in my life so far. I don’t know if I’ll regret it because he ultimately put me here. I would have been his if he didn’t break me in unimaginable ways. I won’t regret protecting my heart. But I will wonder what could have been, and that’s when I will remind myself of what I want for my life and the kind of man I want to trust my life to. And he wasn’t it anymore. He shattered my trust.

I know I have made a choice that took a lot of courage.

Walking away from the familiar is scary, sad and lonely. But I believe it takes guts to look love in the face and say, “I love you, I love you I love you. But you’ve hurt me too much my love, and for my own health, I must say goodbye.”

Goodbye my love, goodbye.

. . . .I love you.



Words Aren’t Enough

I’m a hopeless romantic. I consider this one of my biggest weaknesses as well as one of my strengths.

It’s a weakness because my desire for romance, and my infatuation with all the little cheesy gestures, sometimes overshadows bigger problems in relationships.

It’s a strength because I often find love and joy in places you’d least expect it.

Through my limited experience in the dating scene, I have discovered that words are not enough. Now, understand something here: I LOVE words. I’m the person who has pages and pages of inspirational quotes in my phone and sticky notes posted in random places throughout my apartment. Words are important, yes.

But words aren’t enough in relationships.

When someone promises you that they will stay with you no matter what, through thick and thin, and then they leave as soon as shit hits the fan, well their words didn’t really mean anything. Sometimes people have the intention of fulfilling these promises. But life changes and unexpected things happen and then those promises remain empty and become a far distant memory.

My friend’s boyfriend recently left her after five years. He just called her up one day and said he didn’t love her anymore and he didn’t want to spend the rest of his life with her. And just like that, her world fell apart.

He was gone like the wind, and she was left breathless and cold.

This story isn’t unique. This situation happens all the time unfortunately. We give our love to a human who says they will never leave and will love us in return. But sometimes they do leave.

I think we fall into this trap when we simply take whatever people say as fact. They say things, and they don’t back up their words with actions. A man or woman can say they love their partner all they want, but if their actions are saying differently, don’t believe their words.

Yet we do. Over and over again we believe they love us when they show us they don’t.


Be Brave Enough to Live


There are many things we say we want to do, but we never actually follow through. We’ve all been there.

About a year ago I talked to my friend about traveling abroad. We talked about how we are at a perfect place in our lives to do so. No, we’re not rich. But we’re young, full of life and adventure. So why the hell not? So we started planning.

I got back from our trip to Australia a couple of weeks ago. It may be clique to say, but traveling really does change you. It taught me many things, but I think one of the most important lessons I learned was to let go.

It also opened my eyes to all the beautiful people and places there are in the world.

It is easy to stay inside our comfortable bubble. But when we break away from that, when we step outside of our comfort-zones, when we do things that stretch us, that’s when we grow.

I met a lot of interesting people from all over the world. Many people that I met in the hostels had been traveling for months, even years. All of their belongings were stuffed into a worn-out backpack. A lot of these people hadn’t seen their families in months, some years. They each had a different story of why they were traveling and what they hoped to accomplish.

We all come from different walks of life, and it’s so interesting to hear where people’s journeys take them.

One thing that struck me was how happy these people were. They didn’t have a lot of money, and no they didn’t have a lot of responsibility, but damn they were smiling.

Our culture places such an emphasis on material things. This pressure grips us, and the grip doesn’t seem to loosen until we’re older and hopefully wiser. But we miss out on precious time when that happens.

Through my travels I have realized what I want for my life and what I want to focus my energy and time on.

I want to fill my life with unforgettable experiences. I want to laugh so much I get wrinkles around my eyes. I want to travel and meet more interesting people and listen to their stories about life. I want to spend my time truly living. I can tell you now that money won’t be the focus of my life. It’s a necessity, but I refuse to become caught in the clutches of its merciless grasp. I don’t want to wake up one day with grey hair and frail bones and realize I missed it. I missed the chance to experience life as it was meant to be experienced.

I went on this trip with a tight budget. But I was still able to enjoy myself. And I was happy because I was truly living every moment I was awake; whether that was by seeing a beautiful Australian beach, swimming through a waterfall in a thunderstorm, or sharing a laugh with a stranger, or getting hopelessly lost.

Everywhere I have traveled to so far, I have realized that humans really are so similar while being so vastly different. We all crave love, friendship, kindness affection and happiness.

Even though the different cultures, backgrounds, skin colors, accents, personalities and time-zones, we are all united by the simple fact that we’re all living this life together. When we stop and enjoy the beauty around us, when we do things that challenge us and make us grow, that’s what truly living looks like.


I Can Be Okay Without You

I can breath without you.

I can laugh without you.

I can dance alone and be happy.

I can watch the sunset alone.

I can sing and be heard alone.

I can have adventures alone.

I can do life without you.

I wanted you. I wanted it all with you. Only you.

But you didn’t know what you had when you had it.

I ran. I’m gone. I miss you. And even though it hurts like hell, I know I’ll be okay one day at a time.



I Flew A Thousand Miles to See You

Midnight on a Saturday. I just finished my shift. I was anxious inside. My stomach hurt, and I felt like throwing up. Something wasn’t right. You were out of touch, out of reach for far too long.

I sat in my dark car for a few empty minutes. I knew that I could not wait any longer for you to reach out to me. I had to talk to you. If you weren’t going to be honest with me and how you were feeling, I couldn’t change that. But I was your person, and I was going through hell. I needed you.  If you weren’t going to pick up the phone, I was going to have to talk to you in person, even if you were a thousand miles away. I knew in my gut, that I needed to do this.

So, I bought a ticket to see you early the next day, and I bought a return flight for late that same night. I filled my car with gas, showered, packed a backpack, drank some coffee, and I left for the airport at 2:00 a.m.

I got to the airport three hours early. I wandered aimlessly. Each hour ticked by more slowly than the last one. I couldn’t eat. I couldn’t sleep. I just walked and sat on the hard, cold airport chairs.

I wrote you a letter while I was waiting. I couldn’t believe I was doing this. You had no idea I was coming to see you.

I could have been in the hospital, and you wouldn’t have known. You were either dead or ignoring me. That’s the only explanation I allowed myself to think of while I sat there hour after hour.

The three hour flight felt like three hundred hours. Every time the seat-belt sign came on, I looked out the window hoping to see land rather than endless white clouds, any indication that we would be there soon. But no. It took for what felt like an eternity.

Finally I arrived in the unfamiliar city you now call home. A place I knew nothing about.

I ordered a car, and I suddenly found myself within minutes of your place. My heart was beating so loudly, I wondered if my driver heard it. My hands were shaking. I swear every butterfly had found refuge in my stomach.

You still hadn’t returned my calls. I didn’t have a key to your place. So I stood outside your building until someone let me in.

I walked up to your door unable to catch my breath. God, what am I doing? Why the hell am I so nervous to see my boyfriend of almost four years? I knocked.

I heard some fumbling around. I waited, holding my breath.

You opened the door, and your mouth fell open. Confusion and fear washed over your face. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

Those were not the words I was hoping for. I wanted excitement, but instead I got dread.

You didn’t let me into your apartment. You started walking out saying that we needed to talk. Right then I knew. You had someone else in your apartment.

I ran inside, pushing past you. And I saw a girl go into the bathroom. She was wearing a towel. She locked the door, saying not a word.

My head was spinning. I felt like I was in a nightmare. You didn’t deny the situation. You said it just sort of happened. You told me to get the fuck out. You said we were over. You said I stopped going after my dreams, and we needed to end it. You told me I should never have come there. You were full of excuses.

After over three years, I never would have thought you would give me up just like that, as though we never meant anything.

Tears ran down my cheeks, and I held your face gently in my hands, staring at you.

“I could have loved you forever. You were it for me. You were who I wanted to grow old with. And you just gave that up.”

You didn’t stop me as I gathered my things from your place. You just stood there. As I opened the door to leave, I looked at you

“I will never see your face again. And I won’t ever talk to you again.”

You tried to hug me. Bullshit. I didn’t want you to touch me. I was done with you.

I ran out of your building and onto the streets of a strange city full of strange people. I looked behind me, and you hadn’t tried to follow me.

I sat on the sidewalk, put my face in my hands, and I let the tears come. I let the pain consume my body and seep into my bones. I played the scene over and over again in my head like a movie.

I sat on a sidewalk a thousand miles from home, feeling as though I had lost the one person I ever really felt at home with.

I flew a thousand miles to see you.