15
Jun

Five Minute Friday - cover

Every Friday we unite for five minutes. Only five minutes, that's all we get, that's all we have. And then, right where we are, no edits or second thoughts, we publish those words. This week, we write on cover.

There are going to be moments in your life when you are desperate to put the covers back over your head, call it a day, even before the day starts.
There are going to be moments in your life when you can't wait to rip the covers off, and get up and go.
There are going to be moments in your life when you feel like you are constantly taking cover, protecting yourself from the shards of glass being thrown at you.
There are moments in life that you will feel like you are being held by a warm and comforting blanket.
There are so many moments in life, so many emotions that go into this life, the experience of living.

There are going to be moments in your life when you will feel like you have to cover your real emotions up.
There are going to be moments in your life when you will feel like you have to put on a pretty happy face, be the cover of the magazine, smile wide.
There will be moments in your life when you will cover up who you really are. Either out of protection or confusion. But find you again, look hard and don't stop searching.
There are so many moments in life, so many emotions that go into this life, the experience of living.

Take the peace and comfort a cover can provide.
Take the time you need to snuggle in.
When you are ready, rip them off.
Stretch wide and far.
One huge inhale and let it go.
Remember who you are, where you're headed.
Remember what it means to be you.
And step into the world.

8
Jun

Author unknown - but wow

"I think about her all the time. I wonder where she is and how her kids are doing. But if I saw her stepping down a grocery aisle towards me, I would turn and walk away.

I still laugh to myself at our inside jokes and I think about her every time I put on that particular sweater and somewhere in my house there are pictures of her still framed. And if she called me tomorrow, there's not one single chance that I would pick up the phone.

I think about her when I light fall candles or when I make really good pasta or when I drink a strong vodka and Sprite. I think about her when the leaves turn orange and red and sometimes I can still hear her voice in my head. Sometimes I run into our mutual acquaintances and I don't ask about her because

I just don't want to know her anymore.

I want her to be happy and I want her to have all of the wins. I want her to get out of bed in the morning and feel the sunlight on her cheeks and I want the coffee she drinks to be not-too-hot, but she isn't on my Christmas card list anymore. She is just not invited anymore and we are not even old friends.

Sometimes a crack turns into a sever and a sever turns into an amputation and -

Even though phantom pains still haunt my insides, I'm still glad that she was excised.

Friendships are funny I guess. We're all adults and we're all out here trying our best and we're all failing sometimes. And I guess that means we're failing each other sometimes too.I think we don't mean to...no. I think we really do mean well, but sometimes people become collateral damage and that's really just a fancy phrase for,

'I'm sorry I somehow lost you while I was triaging my own self worth.'

I think it must be okay to say that I miss them sometimes, but no-

that doesn't mean I want to know them anymore. I think it must be okay to say that I miss them sometimes, but this new version of me - this new version that's a little more whole and a lot more strong and a tiny bit lighter, well,

she doesn't have room for friends that carry words for weapons pointed at the backs of others.

This new version of me

simply turned the corner

and walked the other way.

And it was all okay.

Love you, mean it."

-S.

2
Jun

Five Minute Friday - through

Every Friday we unite for five minutes. Only five minutes, that's all we get, that's all we have. And then, right where we are, no edits or second thoughts, we publish those words. This week, we write on through.

I wish I could say I was through with it all.
I wish I could tell you I'm myself now...not back to being myself (because I still don't know if I want to go back) but through this bullshit I'm feeling.
I wish I could say I was officially through it.

But instead, I'm still going through it.
And that's okay too.
I have to take this time and feel it all. Give me a really good look, really dive into me. Figure out my next steps, place, being.
I have to feel all the things I'm feeling.
Sad, emotional, alone, angered, broken, shameful, hurt, lucky, still in love, grateful.
All the emotions, kind of all at once.
I have to go through it all.

So I will.
It has been slow and painful.
It has been long and taken up too much head space.
But all of it is necessary.
In the process, I will slow down my breathing, my racing heart.
I will continue to step back, and honor beauty.
I will inhale and listen to myself exhale.
I will place a hand over my heart, I will hug a little deeper.
I will hug you, all of you.
I will demand smooches, ones that last for at least six seconds.
I will demand hugs too, ones that last for at least 20 seconds.
I will remember who I was, and I will think about who I want to be.
I will keep going through it all.

2
Jun

Special.

There was a word that was always used to describe you.
Special.
His heart is special.

From the moment you were born, the nurses would tell me,
...there's something special about this one. He just makes you feel good being close to him...
Like the sun. Like the actual sun.

You're so special that you made a hardened man squishy.
Even he saw it in you.
Special, there's something really special about Cole.
That kid's heart is different and please make sure the world doesn't hurt him. Make sure he doesn't change.
That's what he chose to tell me when he found out his time with us was winding down.
He chose to think of you, and you're heart.
Special.

You're so special that every single teacher I have ever met tells me that he/she wishes the class had 100 Coles.
You make the room feel different.
You make your classmates feel good.
You bring out the best in people.
You're never afraid to show it, how good you want them to feel.
You're never afraid to be the one cheering the loudest for your friends.
Special, there's something so special about his heart.

You're so special that I do not spend one ounce of time worrying about you.
You're so special that you calmed my craze about being neat and perfect.
I know you're messy.
I know you lose things.
I know you're disorganized.
I know you will always struggle with that stuff.
But who in the hell really cares about any of that?
You turned this crazy, impossibly perfect, crazy about neatness and cleansing mamma into someone who no longer cares.
I now see Legos everywhere and I do not care.
Crumbs fall out of you.
You always have someone on your face or clothes.
But that heart, that special heart.

You're so special that everyone knows you.
You're so special that people will ask me from afar, is that one yours? Does he belong to you? Because he's my absolute favorite to watch.
You're so special that every one lights up around you.
You're so special that everyone becomes their best selves.
You're so special you make others feel special, and happy, and at ease, and joyful.
You're so special, you have a superpower.

So, to my one and only love at first sight.
To my special special boy with a special heart full of love...
...the night before you turned 12, I crept into your room.
You don't ask us to snuggle with you anymore. You say goodnight downstairs now.
But if I do come up, you smile wide, you hug hard, and you make room for me.
But on this night, you were reading, and you put your book down. You gave me that smile that makes my heart burst open because it's so real, so genuine, so pure.
I sat down and true to form, I started to tear up a bit. I started to think about little you, getting bigger you, the you that is growing up, right in front of me.
And I just had to remind you.
You're really special.

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