Destination Nowhere

Every minute only reminds me of my significant unimportantance. Who doesn't want to feel like someone will miss them back home? Someone who cares that their presence will be missing. Someone who aches a little while their away.

Maybe he was right.
Misery creates an eagerness to leave.
I just wanted to feel loved.
Missed.

Like I actually affect a life.
A person.
Touch a soul.

But I am realizing more and more that I am investing all of my genuine hopes into people who don't have the decency to recognize or appreciate me.

So I'm leaving on a jet plane and I hope the person who leaves never comes home. And the person I am meant to be, does.

Skipping Stones

More than occasionally I wish I wasn’t so easily replaced. Or so easily used as a replacement.

Just not so easily brushed aside in the search for something better. I understand, and I know I don’t have the kind of permanence, the kind of presence that a lot of people do, the kind of people whom others not only need, but want. People like that, they’re rocks.

I’m more of a pebble than a rock - really often overlooked, but always picked up when someone needs a skipping stone to carry their explosive anger, their overwhelming fear, their relentless worries, as far away as possible. To carry and to turn their problems into ripples. So I hear many stories - I know a lot of secrets, I keep dreams that people are afraid to tell others with me.

I wonder if pebbles are ever lonely. If they are solid all the way through, or just hard on the outside and hollow in the middle. Maybe they get tired, too, worn on the surfaces so they’re smooth to handle but heavy with the weight of wishes.

I wish I was a rock. Someone’s rock. To be both wanted and needed not because it’s convenient to have me there, but because it would be irreversibly, immensely, empty, without me.

Mobile Diaries: Episode One

I tend to be one of those people who feels like the world drops signs for us mere mortals to interpret.

My favorite form of this game is thinking of you and turning on Pandora hoping something empowering will play.

This morning I got, Always Be My Baby, followed by, God Blessed the Broken Road, immediately followed by All My Life and now Wait For You plagues my ears.

I miss you.
The old you I suppose.

But my days are slowly getting better.
And to be honest, as grateful as I am for my better days, they also make a part of me sad.

Learning to live without you.
Living with ghost and memory you.
Who knew this was the plan?
Would you do it over if you knew?

I would.