You are worth it.

You make a difference every day.

Every smile.

Every ‘are you okay’?

Every piece of art.

It makes a difference.

And don’t let anyone tell you different. Who you are is a hero to someone. You lead your story, and you can control that story. Who you are is special, strong, creative and great. Don’t let anyone tell you different. Family members don’t know you better than you know you. Lies don’t get to tell you your worth. Your friends don’t get to decide your worth for you and neither do strangers on the subway.

How Do I love?

When gift giving is a joy and not a burden, I know I’m in a good place.

I’ve found I show love best by giving presents. Much to my bank accounts despair, I adore spending money on the people I love. A random bouquet of flowers to show my friends I’m proud of them, a mug referencing our favorite TV show to congratulate them, the pair of leggings they’ve wanted for months to say ‘happy birthday, go on a run.’
If you hate spending money on ‘useless’ presents, don’t think this blog is calling you out. Gift giving is not how everyone shows love, anyways. You may show love through spending time with people, serving them, or just simple words of affirmation, all of which are completely valid. I, on the other hand, give gifts to tell someone I admire them.

Lights

It was almost 10:30. I’d been driving for hours, 13 hours go be exact, when the sky started to sparkle. One after another sparks of color shot into the sky and exploded in a puff of glittering light. I was enamored.

I watched the fireworks, eyes drifting from the road. They were so… random. It was the beginning of march, no date the world was celebrating. No reason to use such an extravagant form of celebration.

I watched them in the distance sparkle, shout, and explode. I had to reach them soon, right? I was driving towards them. They had to come from somewhere.

Fairies, Mermaids, and Mothers.

We live in a world of fictional creatures. Fairies, mermaids, dragons, and mothers.

From a young age we discover these mysterious, all powerful creatures, our imaginations suddenly in a metaphorical ball pit of perfection and endless possibilities.

Any time I was in a pool I instantly became a mermaid. My tail was gold and blue and my hair matched with a stark, sparkling blue hue. I kicked through the “ocean” on a “first priority” mission given to me by the king of the ocean (who also happened to be my father.)

My Pet Dragon

A swallow that’s just a smidge too loud. A laugh of someone in the room next door. Pages turning sound like hurricanes. The air is too hot. Your clothes are too heavy. Someone sniffs. How dare they?

Sometimes every little thing, every corner of the earth, has a single goal: to piss you off.

It’s easy to say, “I’m just irritated”. To brush it off like it were a fly landing on your cupcake.

But somehow, that fly has turned into a fuming dragon settling on top of your life, breathing in your air and out fire that burns your hair.

How does no one else see the dragon perched on your shoulders?

Dear Future

“Look ahead” they say. “It only will get better.”

They warn you about being stuck in your past, encourage you to move on to the future.

Well, You’re my future.

But you have to know about my past.  Finding yourself, being true to who you are and who you want, is the most difficult thing you’ll ever do.

At least that’s the case in my story.

I thought it would be great. 

Ari’s Best Friends

Her eyes glaze over, her chest shakes with laughter, she falls onto her back and her fingers rake against the glaring white ground.

It was 2008.

No… 2007.

2006?

It was a while ago when Ari first met her best friends.

She was five.

So it would have been 2006, right?

Dear Ex

Dear ex in my inbox,

The way I see it is there are three types of “inbox exs”.

• The lonely inbox ex. He probably wants to hookup or even get back together. He realizes he lost something great and now regrets his life. He also can’t get any other girl to smile at him so he’s feeling small and lonely. It’s sad.
• The angry inbox ex. He’s victimized himself, made you a “b*txh*, and told all his pickup truck friends that HE broke up with YOU. In his message, he makes use of all the curse words he’s learned in his however many years on earth and let all his “feminazi” frustration out on you. It’s also sad.
• The apologetic inbox ex. He’s moved on, realized though you may have damaged his pride, he may also have hurt you. He has a new girlfriend but his conscience is keeping him up at night. He’s in your inbox to make amends. This one is no longer sad.

Which makes it all the more annoying.

In this letter, I’ll be referring to inbox ex #3. 

The Key

The first thing she ever said to me was a lie. Lying was her oxygen. It’s how she survived every day. It’s how she took breath and ate her food and walked down the street and drove her car. It’s the only thing that made her feel safe. Putting up a wall the rest of the world couldn’t climb. Pretending to be something she wasn’t. Lying. I understood, I guess. But I needed to know who she really was. I needed to get inside that head of hers. I needed to be a part of her life. But she didn’t have people in her life. She had passing faces and passing names that she probably won’t remember in two days time. But I needed to be there. So I came up with a plan. I wanted to know who she really was. I wanted to know what was the real face behind that mask. I wanted to know if she was even wearing a mask. I want to know why she was running and what or whom she was running from.  

Run true, run fast, run with grace.

-“The Run” snippet.