Raaachem.com | Boss Bizness

While abroad, I got an email from my friends at Hellz about their new line, No Fate.  Since the internet in florence is always sketch, it took me awhile to really sit down and look at it.  Back on US soil and the first thing I do is go back and re-read what MissLawn sent over and HOLY MOTHER FUCKING SHIT BALLS, BELLE OF THE BRAWL IS KILLIN ME. 

One of my good friends, Gail, has recently been diagnosed with Stage IV lung cancer which has rapidly spread to her brain, with metastasis in her lymphs.  She is a seemingly healthy-30-year-old-non-smoking-nurse.  What the fuck, God?  

You all know how I feel about the big C, and my friend needs your prayers and support.  Click on one of the images below to support.  100% of the proceeds will go directly towards her rising medical bills, and 1000% percent of any thoughts, prayers, and good vibes are appreciated.  

Only together, will we see the day cancer dies.  

I’ve been writing and deleting this text to you for a long time.

I want to text you and tell you I’ve been thinking about you. But it wouldn’t change things. Not one single thing.

I want to text you and tell you I miss you. But then I’d be lying.

Truth is, I don’t miss you. I miss the person you used to be. I miss the person you used to mean to me. I miss the way I loved you. I miss the memory of you. Of us.

Ok. I’m not lying. I hella miss you.

And I want to text you and ask how you are, but I can’t even bring myself to be ok with that answer. If you’re doing well, it’ll hurt too much knowing you’re doing well without me. If life isn’t treating you the way it should, I’ll somehow find that to be my fault, too.

I want to text you when something reminds me of you. But if I did that, I’d be texting you all the time because you. Are. Fucking. Everywhere.

I want to text you and remind you how much I still love you. Problem is, I can barely admit that to myself.

Funny how someone can go from being your “best friend” to being just “someone you used to know.”

So I just don’t text you at all. Because if I don’t text you how much I miss you, maybe I won’t have to hear how much you don’t miss me.

We are human. 

We want the all the things that are completely horrible for us.  Like, pie, and chocolate, and partying, and those shoes, and HIM. 

So we put up with things to get them.  Like, dieting, exercising, working hard, and HER. 

Because in the end, we like the way they make us feel.  Like satisfied, and skinny, and achieved, and like US. 

Although, in the back of our minds, our conscience reminds us.  About calories, and hangovers, and price tags, and THEM. 

But we bargain with ourselves.  Because, what’s better than pie, and chocolate, and parties, and shoes, and ME? 

Yeah, I knew you were gonna say that.  

Life goes on.  

I try new things, meet new people, and have new experiences.  And yet I always find myself coming back…..to this blog. To that memory.  To that place. To my song. 

It’s like… gravity. 

Because I know every riff of every chord behind every word.  And I know this is a place of no judgement, and I know I can come there whenever I need to without having to ask if its ok.  And I know what your hand feels like holding mine… it feels safe.  And it feels like home. 

You see, things happen and life goes on.  New memories are made and new laughs are shared. New lies are told and new promises are broken.  New hopes are dreamed, and old ones get burned to the ground.  Yet, here I am.  Back here writing, telling you how I found myself back there, holding hands, in that one place, humming that one song. 

Old habits die hard, but these things mean more to me than that.  The melody is more than a habit. 

It’s like… gravity. 

This, that, you, it pulls me. Back here. Hi.  Hello.  It’s me again. 

So those opposites attract like mag-a-nets. 

Just like gravity. 

Love day was one of those days for me.  I didn’t have a Valentine, I had 6.  And as I put the finishing touches on my roast crab, garlic noodles, and salad, I sat down with my favorite people and thought… “I’ve got it good.”

And then…. I read this.  and Yeah….Love sucks.

“Have you ever been in love? Horrible isn’t it? It makes you so vulnerable. It opens your chest & it opens up your heart & it means that someone can get inside you & mess you up. You build up all these defenses, you build up a whole suit of armor so that nothing can hurt you, then one stupid person, no different from any other stupid person, wanders into your stupid life… You give them a piece of you. They didn’t ask for it. They did something dumb one day, like kiss you or smile at you or grab your hand, & then your life isn’t your own anymore. Love takes hostages. It gets inside you. It eats you out & leaves you crying in the darkness, so simple a phrase like “maybe we should be just friends” or “I just want you to be happy” turns into a glass splinter working its way into your heart. It hurts. Not just in the imagination. Not just in the mind. It’s a soul-hurt, a real gets-inside-you-and-rips-you-apart pain. I hate love.” – Neil Gaiman

Over salt and pepper shrimp today, one of my very good friends asked me what I wanted.  In life?  I didn’t understand the question.  He meant, in love.

I want someone to make me feel something. 

The last person to make me feel anything, took me from the tip of ecstasy to the depths of despair. He made me feel loved, and unwanted, and used, and beautiful, and horrible, and sexy all at the same time.  The last man I really felt for, made me feel… crazy.  I hated that I loved him and I loved that I hated him.  In my mind, love wasn’t love if it didn’t drive you up the wall insane.

Abi asked me the other day how many times I had been in love.  I counted, both occasions unhealthy and “crazy” in every sense of the word.  That insecure, name-calling, lying, over bearing, can’t live without each other, need to see each other every waking moment of every day or it would be a problem, passionate to a fault, love. When I really thought about it, I never had that secure love.  That, let me talk to you about my feelings even though you may not like it love.  That I can tell you this knowing you won’t judge me love.  That you can have a best girl friend and I can have a best boy friend and we won’t trip love.  That completely utterly brutally honest love.  That let you breathe love.

Did that mean I had never been in love?  No.  It just meant that I had only known that kind of love.

The last man I fell for left me closed.  I was am afraid of giving a person that much power over me and my emotions.  I don’t know if I am capable of letting anyone get that close to me again, because I can still smell the smoke of that bridge burning to the ground.

What do I want?  I want someone to make me feel something different.  I want someone to be bold enough to look me in the face and tell me he likes me.  I want someone to accept my past, embrace my present, and help me create my future.

I want it all.  I want someone to kiss me and mean it.  I want someone to hold my hand in public and cuddle with me when it’s cold.  I want someone to look at me and truly see me.  I want someone to say my name and ignite a butterfly riot in my stomach.  I want every word of every love song I’ve ever heard.  I want to be scared enough to lose somebody, but secure enough to know he’s not going anywhere.

I want that kind of love I’ve never had.

Universe, don’t fail me now.