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To the dog I wasn’t ready to lose..

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From the moment I laid eyes on you, I knew you were special. A scruffy, underweight 2 year old, with a skiddish demeanor and warm brown eyes, standing outside of a pet store with all the other rescue dogs. You came to me with slow uncertainty, but quickly warmed up to the stroke of my hand down your back. I knew once I held you, that was it for us. You were mine. You made me so nervous in the car that day, bouncing back and forth between the front and backseat. That became the first of many roadtrips for us and you learned to lay claim to the front seat. I always felt bad that I kept my music so loud in the car, but you never seemed to mind, just excited to be along for the ride.  Thinking back to all our adventures, there are so many things I never thanked you for; so much I need to say about the last 6 years. Thank you for staying up with me through all those nights in college. Thank you for always finding ways to make me smile, even in my most stre...

Thank you for being Love

Another terrible love poem... I don’t know what to tell you: other than the heart of a giraffe weighs 22 pounds, and that when penguins find a mate, they stay together for life ; and someone once told me when flies fall in love, their entire brain is rewired to only love each other, and when one of them dies, their memory becomes blank. And I know this is nothing but a string of run-on sentences, and I can’t promise the dark clouds will never hover over our lives, or that the future will be filled with rainbows. I can’t promise that things will always be easy, or that you’ll never hurt. I don’t know how much my heart weighs, or what will happen when someone dies. I know kisses aren’t contracts, and love isn’t a promise. And I know I don’t love very many things, but here are the ones I can think of: I love the first sip of coffee in the morning, and wrapping scarves around my neck when it’s cold. I love the feeling a great song invokes, and getting lost in go...

Dear 2016, You Were a Punch in the Face

In 2009, My grandmother gave me a journal for Christmas. At first, my entries were sporadic. Just random prayers I had. I wrote things down like letters to God; things I wanted to remember to be grateful for later on. Since then, it has become a core piece in my life, filling the pages of the hand-crafted journal my best friend gave me as a birthday present a year ago. Every few months I flip back to see where my life was and how far I’ve come, and as the new year approaches, I’ve been diving in to what my 2016 looked like. The End of 2015: A year ago today, I sat crying on my bed. I wrote about my breakup that took place just 3 days prior. I wasn’t angry. I wasn’t even devastated. I was hopeful. I prayed for growth. I wrote about the life I wished for the only man I knew to be the love of my life. I prayed for peace and patience. I prayed for a way to move forward. I prayed for that man to flourish. I prayed for him to have the best Christmas and to find a job he love...