December 1st, 2015.

No matter how I knew that it wasn't meant to be; that I was so much better off without you, I never got you out of my heart.
I still felt a hole in my chest.
It was a monstrous being that sucked the life out of me and left me bore open and heavily weighed down by emptiness.
I used to think one person could never love another forever, but you my sweet selfish Destroyer, you are proving me wrong.
Months later, 1000 empty days later, too much dignity lost later, and you still creep in everyday.
All I ever asked was for your love, but even the small bits you gifted me were never enough.
Let me be the one you will always regret losing.
Let me be the one you hate yourself for not being ready for.
Let me be anything of meaning.
Otherwise, I am just a sad girl who will never let go of something that was never holding on in the first place.

Army Brat

He leans down earnestly and puts his head close to the one resting on the pillow. The young girl is fast asleep; her lips puckered and her fine hair sticking to her face with sweat. Her nightgown is tangled around her gangly legs and her covers are half strewn across her body. He can see her perfectly despite the darkness. His hand cups her small fragile face and he smoothes her hair back. A small smile plays on his lips, but the dolls and coloring books look on sadly from the perimeters once again. He leans down with his lips close to her ear and small whispers escape his mouth and disperse into thin air. His words, such words, are gone before they are able to be heard. He kisses her forehead and looks down on her porcelain face. Outside the wind blows and the chimes on the outside porch erupt into a faint musical beat. A second clicks by on the clock on the oven. The moon moves a fraction of an inch towards its exit and he is gone. The little girl awakes in the morning, her covers perfectly tucked around her and the whispers in her ears. “Daddy loves you,” he whispered and the words echo in her mind. She looks at the clock and thinks about what day it is, then counts out on her fingers how many days until he gets to come home again. As she wakes and begins to dress for the day, the words that once seemed gone echo throughout her. She hears it as she dresses, as she eats her breakfast, as she waves goodbye to her mom. Daddy loves you. 

The Fall

I remember that it hurt. As my body slammed against the ground I felt my flesh tear open. Brown dirt flew up around me, into my eyes and nose. My head jolted back and forth and I felt the pin ball game of my brain versus skull begin. My hands began to burn immediately and my chest froze in panic from the impact. It all happened very suddenly. At first I was still, then I was falling and then I was still again. My mind’s only priority was oxygen and my throat made a terrifying noise as I tried to suck in air. My ears rang and my brain screamed. My eyes bulged out of their sockets as I lay on my stomach, attempting to get a hold of myself. After a minute of laying there in agony the world became quiet again. I began to notice that the leaves were changing color and falling already. The sun was breaking through the tree tops and reflecting neon green and yellow across the forest. I could hear the birds atop, singing their songs and oblivious to my body beneath them. Then I heard the crunches. A twig crack; a rustle of leaves as a branch was pushed forward. I looked up just in time to see him break through the forest and into the small clearing I lay in. His jade green eyes found mine immediately and he froze, his left scarred hand still raised and holding back branches from his tanned and dirt ridden face. I had almost fully recovered from the fall, but all of the pain of it came back suddenly as I gazed at him. My heart beat fast and it seemed that oxygen was hard to come across once again. I didn’t look away though, no. I stared and he stared back. Oh, yes. I remember that it hurt. 

Perfect Imperfection

You can judge me. You can tell me I deserve better. You can tell me its temporary or a good learning experience. Yes; you can do all of this, but never forget that you are not seeing what I am seeing. You don’t experience what I experience. Your protection of me blinds you from seeing beauty in a tarnished mirror. Your judgment of me blinds you from seeing excellence because you only care for perfection. Perfection does not exist, the most we can do as humans is strive for it. How perfect is it that I see the potential for it though in something so imperfect? Does that truly make me immature or unwise? Or does that make me better than you? I've seen milestones reached, moon dust clouds erupting with every giant step. My love story with him may not be something to watch on the big screens or for little girls to dream about. But it is real and it is mine and my happily ever after is existing in the present. He is one person that may not always know the right thing to say or do, someone that may get mad and walk away and will even make me cry sometimes. But he always comes back, he always forgives me for my mistakes and he always holds me at night. Together, we grow and learn and enjoy and we don’t need anyone’s approval. I don’t strive for the fairy-tale love that we are taught from a young age because although perfection may not exist, loving someone with all their imperfections makes it all the more magical.