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 I crave a gentle life.

I know what hell looks like already.  

More harsh lessons aren’t necessary.

Give me soft evenings, 

sweet as chocolate.

Nights worn like wool.

Let’s laugh till we’re in tears,

alongside those who make loving us look easy.

I want to breathe in the air of everywhere I once dreamt of making memories.

Though my hardships have shaped me,

in beautiful and painful ways that I will forever be grateful for.

I want my days to be full and affectionate.

I want to be formless,

someone who flows and moves without worry.

Some days I’m water.

Others, I’m lava.

Both are real.

Both are me.

All versions of me are honest and necessary.

Who I am is safe when respected.

I’d rather be a great friend to a few

than an acquaintance to many.

I’d rather be widely accepting

than widely accepted.

I want to be the one that others know it’s safe to turn to.

I want to be the person who I needed all those years ago.

There’s a softness within me that wasn’t always there.

It grew from heinous places.

Cold, callous, remorseful places.

My softness is my greatest strength.

To not be hardened by the very things meant to break you, that’s what I’m most proud of.

Home

 The truth is — genuine connection is ease. It is peace. When you find it you will know. You will feel seen, you will feel like you are being mirrored back to yourself, like you are discovering the shadow of your own heart in another human being.

Slowly, through loving the right people, you will come to realize that the human beings who are meant for you in this world will not exhaust you, or hollow you out, or leave you feeling like you are hard to love. Slowly, you will come to realize that you do not have to romanticize the things in this life that hurt. You do not have to run towards the fire. Love does not have to feel like a fight, does not have to feel like battle, does not have to wound.

Slowly, you will learn how to lay down your arms. How to walk away from those who will only ever love you in halves. Slowly, you will learn that you cannot love someone into loving you, or being ready, if they are not. You cannot love someone into their potential. You cannot close their hands around your heart if they are not willing to hold it themselves. You have to let them go. You have to focus on the people in your life who bring you back home to yourself. You have to focus on standing up for that kind of connection, on honoring that calm, because it exists. It exists.

And I hope you learn to trust that, because when you come across it, when you ultimately experience it, it feels as if you are standing at a door you finally have the keys for. You enter it with ease. There is no fumbling through your jacket pocket trying to find the right way in. There is no desperately reaching into your bag trying to uncover the point of access. You are no longer banging your fists against the door, asking to be invited in. You walk through. Soundlessly. Softly. Relief washes over you. You take off your shoes. You hang your coat in the closet. You put on a pot of coffee. You’re home. 

27 Orgasms

 I was minding my own business

Out with friends

The way that all spinsters are supposed to support each other on their birthday

Zero interest in dating, sex, or anything to do with a man

Who would turn out to just be another neanderthal 

Papier mâché walls up

It was the only way to be if I was to survive

And then you sat down

And your face turned into the sun when you looked at me

And I knew that the only appropriate thing to do would be to kiss it

"I like your face.  I'd like to see more of it."

Apparently my lack of the ability to effectively flirt actually worked this time

I've never been so allowed to be myself

Permission withheld only by myself of course

I was fine with avoiding

I think you have a magnet inside you 

Or something I can't quite put my finger on

But I don't know if I want to know

It's something that can only be brought to the world by the eclipse

Stop thinking and just do dummy

My papier mâché walls 

Crumbled

You threw all my past lovers into my hot chocolate moat to distract the piranhas' 

Who knew they were conspiring to build a bridge for you out of their bones

Fuckers

Your body is the only one I want to feel ever again

We are so much alike that it scares the shit out of me 

In a place nobody has bothered to scratch

You do something to me that I can't explain

The line from my favorite song

It never made sense until now

But I do know

That if my weekends continue to consist of Sunday mornings

And 27 orgasms

You my best friend

Aren't going anywhere

That Thing You Can't Throw Away

When it comes to living in your world

If I could be one thing other than 

What I am right now

I want to be a little Post-it that has 

Something as dorky as

"I love you"

Scribbled on it.

You're brand new to my world

But that old, odd, drunk cat lady that lives 

In the back of my brain won't stop shouting

"Fuck.  We really like this one"

I want to always be randomly left 

Where you'll come across it

When the day isn't going your way

Or when your heart is defeated

When the moon is shining 

Brighter than the sun

I want to be the memory 

Of a perfect moment where

Nothing in the world mattered 

But learning who about who we are 

And loving each other more

Than the rest of those insufferable shits

~cynicallovebird 

The Dating (ces) Pool

I'm starting to think that the Lord is testing me, and I didn't study.

So.....in other news, I'm single. Still. I know, I know.  You're clutching your pearls in shock and awe.

No, don't ask me to explain. The important people that need to know (and have tirelessly listened to my nonsense) already know all about it, edited of course.  On here, I don't hold back so much.  But some of it is for another time.

I have attempted to cast my net into the dating pool again.  I think it might have been too wide of a cast this time, and I didn't even mean to do it.  Or maybe like I do with everything else; I have just blindly flung myself "out there" and I pretty sure that I am just going to meet up with a school of piranhas.  But cool ones, if that makes sense. Like instead of consuming me, they are awesome, and I like them.  All of them. And my brain is just coming to the same conclusion every time I have a chance to stop "powering through" and realize what the F.U.C.K. I have done, and then I'm back to being alone because I can't handle talking to multiple people at once.  I truly do not have a clue how people do it, especially cheaters with a person in every town.  I have been skimming through profiles and many of them are the same that I saw back in 2020 when I was looking last time. It's icky feeling. I have noticed a marked difference from the last time I made the attempt though. 

Not by any stretch of the imagination is dating fun for me.  

At the same time, the only thing that I have ever wanted more than anything, is to be a wife.  

And this last time that I tried to date, without going into details because, well frankly I'll just break my own heart all over again merely talking about it, cemented that.  I know that I have this weird demon inside of me that I've always had that is impulsive and dirty and needed to fuck whatever is in front of me just to get something scratching at the back of my brain to shut the fuck up; but at least I'm honest about it being there.  I wasn't always. If you were to go back in time and talk to the me that was ten years ago, there was some odd primordial need to not be alone. I couldn't really explain it, I just couldn't sit still in my own skin. 

I have done the work that I need to do in order to heal my shit. I have had the same counselor since 2016, and we have done more digging than they did trying to uncover the Sphynx. I have been alone for 4 years and can count the number of dates that I've had since on one hand, because it was much easier than anything else that I've had to deal with. I don't want to get to know anybody new, people fucking suck.  Especially the ones that make me feel something but end things in such a way that was proof that they were just lying to my face the whole time. Or at least it felt that way.  The bottom line is that I deserved better, whether I believed it at the time or not. Perhaps some things on my half of the relationship could have been better, but I definitely didn't deserve to experience the abuse that I did. I want to be with the same person forever and that's it.  I think the real issue, is that they have seriously underestimated my willingness to die alone. Or maybe it's that I am so fine with it that I don't know how to open up, until this last time. 

And every millisecond of our time together was everything that I ever wanted.

That son of a bitch, walked into my life while I was minding my own business, completing not intending for him to be there. Maybe there wasn't a spark. Who knows.  What I do know, is that the spark turned into a mother fucking forest fire and before I knew it, I was a national park in drought season. I am not going to wish for him to reappear. Not too hard, anyways.  I tell myself I will only allow myself to be sad once a day. There are 24 hours in a day.  If you don't stop being sad, it is only once. Leave it to my Irish roots to find a loophole to that one. I like air more than I like being sad, so I won't hold my breath. Much.

I'm reopening some wounds by writing this. I mean, not literally, though I guess it wouldn't be atypical. I have always had a tendency to pick at scabs. Something in me has definitely shifted. I hope for the better. Scar tissue builds character, right?