Bri in Philly

 Your words hurt, yes  But not as deep as the realization  That I truly no longer cared about (opinions from) you It hurt to know my heart gave up checking for you  It hurt that you deemed it out of the blue  I guess you didn’t notice I guess I don’t care Some friendships aren’t meant to go the distance These words best explain why I’ve been distant  “Wish you well babe” Oh man I still have your number saved. 

 It’s taken me 25 years to understand let alone action on my parent’s timeless mantra: not everyone is your friend. With the ones I’ve gained (and lost, obviously) who needs enemies.  I wish I could say I was perfect. I’m not, which is precisely why I’m not proclaiming it. I am however questioning the validity of any friend or friendship from someone who left me with insults carefully crafted around my trauma and mental health that which I’ve allowed them close enough to see.  One thing is guaranteed, once you’ve stooped that low, crashed your last out. I won’t be returning the favor. Because I’ve left and won’t return, period. There’s lines I don’t cross and I don’t paint pictures that can’t be erased. 

 Your daughter is afraid she’ll have no parents at her wedding.  Your daughter is afraid her dad will pass and she’ll be forced to invite you to the wedding out of pity and sadness.  Your daughter knows she’ll never get the mommy daughter wedding dress try on moment.  Often, when her coworkers are smiling sharing baby photos, wedding plans, life plans — your daughter finds herself looking away.  Your daughter feels like she never got and will never get that.  Your daughter use to believe she could give that to your grandkids.  Now your daughter feels like damaged goods.  Your daughter is yours because you passed your pain to her without hesitation.  Your daughter resents you for this.  Your daughter is carrying pain in her body.  Your daughter wishes she wasn’t yours and that you weren’t hers. 

Mommy feels responsible for what happened in the road.  Mommy is convinced she’s down on her luck.  Mommy is tired.  Mommy got rejected from the apartment she really wanted. Mommy feels like a failure.  Mommy feels like sometimes grandpa doesn’t get her emotions.  Mommy feels alone most of the time.  Mommy is worried her emotions control her rather than the other way around.  Mommy is scared she’ll be homeless.  Mommy is scared to take time off from work.  Mommy doesn’t know why.  Mommy wants to scream help.  Mommy can’t whisper to ask for advice.  Mommy is prideful.  Mommy is down on her luck.  Mommy wishes she could say this to you.  Mommy loves you, Lola and Muri. (And misses you so much Spiri). 

 Today I am grateful  More grateful than hateful  There is so much to love and you only must journey out your doorstep to see and appreciate  Moments I enjoyed:  I enjoyed seeing the girl get out of her uber with her headphones slipping down the back of her head, because it made her look like a cool underground kid. Maybe she purposely put them this way… I enjoyed sitting at a red light and watching and the kids a  across the street took turns running and kicking off of a tree. May they know their innocence  I enjoyed hearing the girl walking behind me who offered her friend a cigarette. My weakness if I am in Europe.  I enjoyed noticing the girl whose shoes weren’t on her feet as she swung them in the window of the coffee shop. Must feel freeing… These are their moments, somehow shared with me. Though they’ll likely never realize the connection, I am grateful. 

 Who are you?  Who am I?  Do you know that I live above my means. For many reasons and it got me thinking, what’s my means? What do I mean?  I have an affinity for brunch…every weekend. In fact, as far back as I can remember I have regularly eaten out on saturdays and if not, then definitely sundays. Till my pocket and stomach hurt in unison I have brunched.  When I think about it…while brunching is now part of *my* routine. It’s one I picked up in the company of men I once adored.  From one man, I learned I deserved to eat. He helped me check off so many places in the city of Milwaukee and what ones we didn’t get to I eventually sat in with a new lover. Who followed in his footsteps. This new lover added a perspective of going and watching soccer simultaneously.  Now if any lover were to ask me to go to brunch: well they should know they don’t even have to ask.  Next time you drive down a street count how many cars have pushed their side window i...

  We weren’t in love, we were lonely.   And there’s a difference. I can’t speak to love. I don’t know it. But I can speak to loneliness.  When you’re lonely it feels like your soul has scoured the earth for a companion. Many days you come up empty handed. Those days feel like years until you stumble upon someone. Someone who seems to get you in ways the emptiness didn’t. They speak and it feels like music not because it is but because the silence was too deafening and now their voice is like symphony. I wouldn’t wish a lonely heart on my worst enemy.  Lonely hearts settle for empty company. They settle for companions who are settling for them.  Lonely hearts love the hardest. Not because they can but because they convince themselves of it. Every ‘great love’ I ever knew came after great loneliness. It felt like I was being healed. I felt consumed. I felt sure.  But really I was certain I preferred the company of others that none at all. I wasn’t in love wit...