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My Journal: 7 March 2018


That’s it. Just goodbye.

“No More Games…You are getting Greedy. Act your old age. Relax – This won’t hurt.

~Hunter Thompson


My Journal: 30 Jan. 2018

The Soundtrack of my Suicide

I’ve been sick to my stomach for days now and it’s completely my fault. I’m thinking about her again and it’s killing me.

“How did we get this far apart?
We used to be so close together
How did we get this far apart?
I thought this love would last forever.”

She won’t call and she won’t see me and she turned her back on me and it hurts. I know it’s not healthy to be in this place, but it’s all I have. I know it’s just going to lead me right back to where I’ve tried so hard to get away from and the music in my head is just the soundtrack of my suicide.

“And if I show you my dark side will you still hold me tonight?
And if I open my heart to you and show you my weak side, what would you do?

It’s simple and slow and the melody is beautiful and heartbreaking all the same. It’s just background noise in my head fighting with the pain and the brokenness and the inability to know when to let go. Fighting the fight and all the while the soundtrack of my suicide plays softly in the wings.

Love is a terrible, fearsome thing and it’s claws have dug deep into my weak heart. Her love was once a beacon of hope and happiness, but it’s just the past and it’s gone and the band plays on quietly with the soundtrack of my suicide.

“I wish I could just stop
I know another moment will break my heart
Too many tears
Too many times
Too many years I’ve cried over you.”

I see the notes clearly. They spread slowly like gentle Morse code on my heart and the coda builds and the finish is near. No glorious flourish, no thunderous crescendo, no fireworks, no flash. Just a quiet conclusion to my broken heart and all played to the beat of the soundtrack of my suicide.

“Kiss me kiss me kiss me
Your tongue is like poison.”

My Journal: 16th Jan 2018

Dear Elizabeth,
   I miss you and you’re always in my thoughts. I want to speak to you and I want to sit with you and I want to be with you and I’m trying to understand what went wrong. Trying to make sense of what happened just adds fuel to my broken heart.

   Just call me to say hello. Just send me a note saying you’re doing well. That’s all I want because I know we can never have what we had. It’s too late to repair the damage that’s been done to our friendship and I’m trying to make peace with that fact.

   No matter what, I’ll always love you and I can’t just turn that off. I’m not wired that way Elizabeth.

   Please don’t shut me out.

Love always,


My Journal: 24 Dec. 2018


   All I want for Christmas is to talk to her. I just want to hear her voice and try to understand what happened. 

   They say time heals all wounds. Not really. It just dulls the pain.

My Journal: 18 Dec. 2017


   I did nothing but love you and your voice cast me aside. I gave you everything and you walked away with acid on your tongue and fire in your eyes.

   My heart hurts but it will heal. It always does.

-Love ISN’T a many splendored thing.

-Love DOESN’T lift us up where we belong.

-Love ISN’T like oxygen.

-Love ISN’T all we need.

Fuck love.

   “Thus with my lips have I denounced you, while my heart, bleeding within me, called you tender names.

   It was love lashed by its own self that spoke. It was pride half slain that fluttered in the dust. It was my hunger for your love that raged from the housetop, while my own love, kneeling in silence, prayed your forgiveness.”

~Kahlil Gibran (The Forerunner)

My Journal: 11 Dec. 2017


   I miss you.

My Journal: 8 Dec. 2017

What I Want

   I want to text her “good morning” and tell her I hope she has an awesome day. Instead, I reread an old hand written note from her and I try not to cry.

   I want to call her before she goes to sleep to ramble about work and to listen to her day and just to hear her voice. I want to tell her I love her before I hang up the phone. Instead, I watch a YouTube video she posted and I try not to cry.

   I want to fall asleep with her in my arms and listen to her breathing. I want to feel her heartbeat against my chest and her hair on my face. Instead, I fall asleep on the couch watching our favorite movie and I try not to cry.

   I want to know what I could’ve done to keep her next to me. I wish I could go back to that time when she had fire in her eyes and electricity in her fingertips. Instead, I’m alone and I’m tired and I try not to cry.

   I wish she was here and not there and I wish I didn’t cry and I wish I could tell her I didn’t fucking care. But I do and I’m trying hard not to cry.

   I miss her, I love her and I don’t want to be “here” anymore. But I am and I’m sorry and I’ll try not to cry anymore.

   Fuck love.

My Journal: 1 Dec. 2017

She said

   Tears came fast and hard, I told her how much I loved her and she said I was a distraction. 

1. I was a distraction.

   She said I was keeping her from what was important.

2. I wasn’t important.

   She said I wasn’t right for her and that she couldn’t be with me. She said I was toxic.

3. I was toxic.

   I took her in, I listened to her, I changed my behavior to better suit her needs and I loved her. She said my love was a bad thing.

4. My love was bad.

   She said she wanted to see people her own age. 

5. I was old.

   Tie all those words together and they hurt like a crowbar to the chest. They make me into something I’m not. I’m not a monster. I’m just someone that loves and wants to be loved in return.

   Closing another painful chapter in my life today. Letting go of someone you care about should never happen. Love shouldn’t hurt, but it does. Love shouldn’t break your heart, but it does.

Fuck love.

“Still round the corner there may wait, A new road or a secret gate.”

~J.R.R. Tolkien

My Journal: 3 Nov. 2017

Enemy Mine

I hate my heart. 

“Choice or no, my heart is hers.”

My journal: Oct. 20th 2017


   Every song reminds me of her.


Broken heart