Tag Archives: past

My Final Goodbye

I haven’t written about love

… or loss…

in a couple of years.

Life can grow so busy and routine.

You forget to stop and appreciate the moment.

You forget to appreciate all you have.

You forget how to keep your love life one of worth and value.

And you fall into a rut.

Not everyone welcomes change with open arms.

Some look through the peephole when change comes knocking.

Some run upstairs and hide under the covers.

Some open the door halfway to see what change wants.

Some open the door all the way and invite change into their home.

When it came to graduating college,

I welcomed change into my home.

When it came to moving to a different state,

I welcomed change into my home.

But when it came to attempting a long distance relationship with the man I loved,

I thought I was welcoming change into my home…

But what I really was doing was looking through the peephole.

It took 10 months of long distance to realize I wore blinders.

It took 3 months to realize I had fallen out of love…

It took 1 month to realize I felt like I was single

and no longer in a relationship.

It took 4 months after that to realize I had been making excuses for you.

It took 1 month after that to realize I was grieving.

I had fallen out of love with you.

I wasn’t heartbroken,

but I was grieving.

You were supposed to be the one and only man for me.

You were supposed to support me.

You were supposed to love me.

Instead, you pushed me away,

and I don’t even think you realized it…

It took me 6 months after I broke up with you

to realize you had been slowly pushing me away

since 2015…

People ask me if I regret wasting so many years of my life on you,

so many months waiting for you to grow up.

5 and a half years with you.

They ask if you were holding me back.

I was working full-time,

attending graduate school part-time.

I would have my master’s degree in two years.

You didn’t even have an associate’s…

only unused credits.

8 months have gone by since I’ve broken up with you.

8 months of reflection.

8 months to realize maybe I held you back.

8 months to realize maybe we both held each other back.

When I ended things with you,

I had felt single for the longest time,

I had felt like I put my life on hold for you,

but now I felt free.

I jumped into overdrive.

I met men.

I bought my own car.

I moved into an apartment of my own.

I dated a few men for a short amount of time.

I found out how I deserve to be treated.

I found out what I want in a partner.

I found out what I need in a partner.

And I found out how to look for that.

But I am done.

I am done grieving.

I am done thinking over what could have been.

I am done thinking about all the wrong things that happened between us.

I no longer want to be held back by us,

by what we had.

I wish you the best,

I truly do.

I want you to figure your life out.

I want you to find love again.

I want you to be happy.

But this is my final goodbye.

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My ‘Love for Writing’ Journey: Part One.

Prince Charming saves the princess from an evil witch. That was the first real short story I remember writing. I was seven.

My mother has always encouraged my creative expression through dance, music and writing. Growing up, I expressed myself best through my writing of poetry, fictional short stories, journalling, lyrics and much more.

I have always had a vivid imagination, which would lead me to write anything that popped into my mind. From the beginning when I could first read, I also wrote. I wrote everything: poems about how blue the sky was or how I felt about playing music, and short stories about princesses, detectives or plain ordinary girls with problems just like myself. I started to take writing seriously when I was in seventh grade. I spent numerous hours creating plots; characters; twists and turns; and constantly changing the climax of each story.

Once I reached high school, I realized I could make a career out of my passion.

When I was 14, I stumbled upon two websites that were specifically made for aspiring creative writers. They included poems, lyrics, stories, etc. Quizilla was one, but no longer exists after TeenNick bought it, and Mibba was the second, which rightfully is still alive.

Based on the positive feedback from readers and other amateur writers like myself, I started taking writing more seriously. I love to write fictional romance, fantasy and free-style poetry.

Sophomore year in high school was when I started writing poetry constantly. I’d write poetry anywhere and everywhere: on my homework, my class notes and sometimes even my hand. I love writing poetry because it’s just an easy way to express how I feel. Before poetry entered my life, I used to have such trouble describing how I felt fully to anyone. After poetry, my stress was gone, I could think clearly and relax.

I love reading and writing poetry. I like to read the amateur poetry from poets around my age, with the same burning passion to write and some with the same problems. Those strangers, through the computer of many online writing sites, inspired me to be the amateur poet I am today. I don’t plan on making a career out of my poetry, I just like it as it is now, a hobby. When I was 16, I created this blog as a way to share my expression. I found other inspiring bloggers that shared my passion for all kinds of writing.

As high school graduation grew near, I knew I wanted to write fiction for a living … or at least that’s what I thought.

After graduation, I entered The State University of New York College at Plattsburgh. I started my freshman year as a declared English writing arts major, with the aspirations of becoming a fictional novelist.

Looking back now, I was young, optimistic and naive.


Move along my journey to the second part here. Haven’t read the introduction? Be a part of my journey here.

My ‘Love for Writing’ Journey: Intro.

As some of you  may know, I have written poetry and short stories since I knew the alphabet. However, since becoming a professional, I have also had my fair share of objective article writing.

I am writing a 3-part series about my writing experience starting young, then heading to college, to where I am now: one semester away from the “real world.”

Please keep in mind, this is for my Public Relations Writing class where I won’t have as much freedom in my writing style as you and I are used to.

I hope you enjoy reading my journey as much as I have living and learning through it.

It is not over yet. It has just begun…


Be a part of my journey:

Part One.

Part Two.

Part Three. – Coming Soon…

“If I Could Tell My Adolescent Self What I Know Now” – ELITE DAILY

“If I Could Tell My Adolescent Self What I Know Now” – ELITE DAILY

I stumbled upon this link from my 25-year-old cousin who shared it over Facebook. I believe everyone should read this, no matter your age.

Lena Oh wrote this beautiful article. It made me cry. It made me revaluate my life — past, present, future.

Some of her points are hard to accept with her main point, let go. “Let go of pain; let go of anger; let go of regret; let go of resentment; let go of the past; let go of mistakes; let go of the ex; let go of the disappointment. Surrender it all.”

However, they are all necessary and well-deserving of doing.

I hope this article helps all of you, just as it has helped me.

I Remember

Duncan and I at 12 years old.
Duncan, 8, and I, 12, the day we put him down.

I remember waking up

but not what time.

I remember my father crying

but not knowing why.

I remember the drive to say goodbye

but not where we were headed.

I remember seeing him in pain,

but not being able to help.

I remember my parents talking to a doctor

but not about what.

I remember holding his paw

as he slowly drifted away.

Continue reading I Remember

If Only…

I love being around you,

I love being with you.

I love your crazy little antics.

I love your eyes,

The way you smile,

And your laugh.

I love when you hold me,

Like nothing will ever harm me.

I love sleeping next to you,

And waking up to your face.

I love so much of you,

Yet I won’t say it.

If only I wasn’t dreadfully afraid of love,

Of the word.

I think I’m just afraid to let you in.

I’m afraid of getting hurt,

Again.

I want to let you in,

But something’s holding me back.

If only…

Continue reading If Only…