Dedication
For Joe, my best friend.
Thank you for the courage to find my voice and to put these words to paper; without you, there would be no book—even if you don’t know it. Thank you for being the refuge in every storm and the consistency in an ever-changing life. Thank you for always being on my side, even when I’m wrong. I’d be lost in this world without you. Of all the people to have by my side, I’m glad God gave me you. I hate you.
For Clayton, my first real love.
Thank you for changing the way I see myself and the world. Thank you for loving me—for meeting me at my worst back in 2015 and reminding me that I am capable and deserving of love. You’ve never stopped being one of my number one supporters in all that I do, and my appreciation for you is endless. Thank you for being the soul that helped shape this multi-lifetime approach to love; wherever life takes us, I’ll be with you always.
Prologue
Ever written a letter you never sent? Words you’ve never said but wanted to? Well, that’s what you’re about to read. Every word, every page, is a note, a letter, a thought to someone specific—a friend, a lover, an ex-lover, a family member, myself. Words left unsaid. Words I was too afraid to say. Words that didn’t come until it was too late. Words of hurt, of anger, of love, of hope, of strength. Words of truth—which sometimes hurt.
One day, I came across an old notebook as I was cleaning; inside were many remnants of from a dark time in my life. So, I flipped to the first empty page and started writing again for the first time in years. What was intended to be three or four pages just to get it all out eventually filled the pages of that old notebook and became my first ever publication. That very first day, I had no intention of writing a book, much less publishing one; it’s funny how life works. This book is the product of two years worth of breaking open my soul, dealing with the previously ignored pain, and finding those words—finding that truth.
When reading the pages that follow, some will know exactly what I’m talking about. Some will be reading a very personal account of their impact on my life. Some will read these pages and think of themselves or of others. Some will be hopeful, inspired, relieved. Some will be angry, resentful. But, as one of my favorite quotes from Anne Lamott says, “You own everything that happened to you. Tell your stories. If people wanted you to write warmly about them, they should have behaved better.”
The back of this old notebook once held
budgets
cake designs
and wedding vows that promised to keep you safe
in a zombie apocalypse.
Little did I know that I was the zombie
and you were the
apocalypse—
changing me forever,
destroying life as I knew it,
and leaving nothing but chaos in your path.
—a narcissist will never have the cure
It would be an honor
to spend my forever with you.
In a past life you must have been
an acrobat
or a magician
the way you come back without warning,
twist my life up,
throw it for a loop,
and leave
once again
without a trace.
—you know not the harm you’ve caused
That’s the thing about having a spine.
It holds you up—
not everyone else.
All I’ve known
is the need to stand up for myself.
I do not know how to handle someone being on my side.
Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.
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