237 (Working Title)

He is the kind of guy you fantasize about without ever knowing. You will fall in love without warning. He is tall with perfect sculpted shoulders. He is just the right height for your head to rest perfectly on his chest just below his chin. His hair is well trimmed yet perfectly roughed up on top. It gives him a boyish look around his handsome face accented by his well trimmed scruff. It will tickle your face when he kisses you. You’ll be consumed by the sweet smell of his cologne when his body gets close to you and he wraps his strong arms around you. He’ll place his hand in the small of your back. Even the lightest touch will send a warm tickle through your body. Each muscle is perfectly defined accented by his tan skin and callused hands. His fingers laced between yours make a perfect weave that could never be broken.  
Everyone wanted a part of him no matter how small a part they had. So no one ever truly had all of him. He was Jacob Farrell and I had been in love with him for 237 days and counting.  

 

 

Waking up 

I am finding it hard to wrap my head around the fact that someone who I told myself was the most important person in my life was able to just get up and walk out yet I don’t miss her. There are a few things that trigger a memory about her but they are slowly fading away. One day I won’t remember the times we really laughed or why I felt drawn to her in the first place. That is a startling thought but I don’t feel sad anymore. 

Yesterday I found a picture of us. I couldn’t remember where it was taken and that didn’t even bother me.  She almost gone. 

I know now who the most important people in my life are. They are the ones who save me from bad days. The ones who make me laugh so hard my face hurts. The ones who embrace my over the top personality. They answer my stupid questions. I’m becoming the best version of myself and those people are a big part of it. And now I’m okay being me. 

I’m awake now. 

Reconnecting 

I struggled with my blog before because I always felt uncomfortable posting what I wanted to post. I guess I felt like I was being judged. It was that place I was afraid of letting teachers, peers, and coworkers into. With the renovation of my blog into something more realistic I’m both terrified and ready to just post. It might not be perfect but this is where I can keep my thoughts and bits of writing. Some day I might look back and think a piece sucked or it’ll jog my memory about a tiny detail I have long forgotten. I can already look back and see the changes since I first began. It’s constantly evolving as I figure out how to deal with me as me. So here I am just posting things I’ve written in the past, projects I have been editing and working on, and new blurbs I need to keep safe. 

xo, j