All the Love and Light You Could Ever Fathom

You've lost a friend, I bet, in your lifetime. One that filled the corners of your soul. One that you got a matching tattoo with. One that made milk spray out of your nose. One that picked you up when you were ugly crying. A best friend. A lover. A confidante. A partner in crime. 

You've lost family, I bet, in your lifetime.

One that is entirely irreplaceable. A hand to hold. A laughter that fills the room. A lover. A confidante. A partner in crime. One that filled corners of your soul you didn't even know existed. 

You've lost friends that became family, and family that were your best friends. 

I have.

And tonight I'm missing each one. 

Tonight my memories are ricocheting off the walls of my heart.... and I'm noticing them diminishing. 

Heartache is timeless. All we want in the midst of it, is to somehow forget. To heal. To feel better. To numb the pain of what was lost and move forward in life. How I yearned for that each time I have lost someone. 

And now all I want is each one of those memories back; I want them vivid and alive. I want the painful ones and the aching with laughter ones. I want them in full HD color in my mind, with a repeat and slo-motion button.

But I can't. 

Because my mind is only human just like yours. I can store all the gems of wisdom and moments that made my heart beat a thousand miles a second, but I can't keep them forever.

We aren't forever, our minds aren't capable of forever. 

As time wears on we become increasingly unaware of our past, try as we might to overcome this vicious mind game our brains play as we age, it just happens.

I miss my friends; my family. 

I miss my memories that I can't seem to replay in full effect. I miss the memories I can't even remember! I know they're there.

I miss ferociously. 

And that's okay. 

It's okay to miss someone.

And right now, that's what I'm going to do. Miss them. Send them love and light. Honor their presence in my life. Cherish the memories I can still touch in my fickle mind. Love them. 

Then I'm going to live right now. Today. That's where I am most aware. That's where I can love and send light, in this moment. Because one day, this moment will be a memory maybe thrown out by my brain as unwanted, albeit a grand moment, one that my mind just can't hold. Or maybe it will be a moment that my brain will always hold onto. One that replays in daydreams and dreams alike. One that is shared by multiple people. One that is brought on by a familiar smell, or a faint noise..

A memory that is timeless. That holds on despite our human-nature to let go. 

Our memories will eventually fade, sure.

Our friends and family will pass, sure.

We will even pass.

But we are timeless; our mark on the world is forever, even if not a single person can recall. Because I'd be willing to bet, you are missed and loved and cherished. You are sent love and light more than you could ever even fathom. 

So hold on, baby. Live. 

On Ceiling Fans and Losing my Memory

You put up walls so high that nobody can touch you. And then one day, in the most mundane and un-earth-shattering moment possible, you realize people CAN get to you. You’re sitting in bed binging on Netflix, you’re pumping gas at the gas station, you’re asking Google questions you should already know; whatever, you’re just living life. 

And then it hits you…


You ARE vulnerable. You are human. You do have feelings. You're not unbreakable, now.


And you sigh, out of relief, because you realize that it IS possible to feel again. Which gives you hope that maybe one day you can love again. Which gives you instant jumping beans in your stomach that maybe one day you can fall as hard as you fell, and you can give as much as you gave; more than you did before.


And you sigh, out of disappointment, because now you can be let down. Now every one of your remarks isn't sarcastic, and it's not a game. It's your heart. It's your future.


And aside from reassuring the ever-so-clingy Netflix that yes, you are still there, and yes, you are still watching, you begin to feel a little afraid.


I have three irrational fears... That come to mind right now. Ceiling fans, losing my memory, and not being enough.


Ceiling fans, well, just write this one off. It is the definition of an irrational fear. But to my defense, have you seen these HUGE fans they make now?! Talk about sudden death when one of those suckers spins too fast! Hard pass, please.


Losing my memory, though, maybe not so irrational. I'm 24 right now, but know that our minds are fickle. Lumosity brain games are forever enticing, and I constantly fret that the size of my hippocampus is shrinking; which it does. The struggle is real here, people. I have the memory of a goldfish. (Actually, I learned that gold fish actually have a memory span that is approximately three months. How they test that? I have no earthly idea! But just humor me here…I’m a living version of Dory.)


Not being enough, though, is a real fear. It is deeply rooted, in society and my inner voice, your inner voice, too.

Let me put it simply, 

not even your average BOWL will suffice these days. 

Bread bowls have become all the rage, and now they are introducing churro bowls and chocolate bowls!

A standard bowl is not enough anymore, what makes me think I AM?!


You get the point. Everything is, 'new and improved.' Everything is, 'the most badass,' and everything is version 2.0. Everything is a bread bowl, not an average bowl.


I'm just me.

Little me who is okay with using a ceramic bowl, or a plastic bowl, to scoop gallons of ice cream in to assuage my fear that I am not enough.


I think it’s time to put my irrational fears to bed. (A bed with a ceiling fan not directly above it, while playing my nightly memory game.)


I'm just me. I am enough.

You are enough, too.


You deserve a home that welcomes you in. 

You deserve a career that satiates your craving to grow.

You deserve to unabashedly soak in this beautiful life.

You deserve someone who makes vulnerability as easy as a Sunday drive.

You deserve someone who gives you jumping beans in the pit of your belly when you see their face.



Remember when your inner voice shakes, that you are enough, and you deserve it all.
You’re more than enough.

Dear FuckBoys,

My heart aches for you.

Seriously.

We live in a world where, "Fuckboy Repellent," exists because there are so many 'FuckBoys.' (Jeez; the term is about as brash as the negative connotation behind it..but there's no dancing around this one.) 

My heart aches for me, too; for the girls in the world.  Because I seem only to be attracted to these not-so-rare creatures called fuck boys; to the point that I'm buying stock in FuckBoy repellent. (Wait; that's childish, let me rephrase..... I'm merely investing in a business endeavor capitalizing on FuckBoys 'round the world. Cheers.) 

I live with my eyes wide open. I've made a habit of this. It lets me have an open mind about mistakes and heartbreak and new adventures and strangers and loved ones. It lets me make each day some semblance of an adventure without the high price of flying to Paris for brunch. (Bottomless mimosas, anyone?) 

But as wide as my eyes are, I'm going to see the best in you. I'm going to believe your words. I'm going to hang on them; trust them. 

You don't know how to let people in. You don't know how to let people trust you or believe in you. 

••DISCLAIMER: I think you can be happy, not letting people in. My happiness does not equal your happiness and vice versa; the pursuit and definition of happiness is different for everyone. So if you're a FuckBoy reading this and you're sincerely happy, stop now and keep on keepin' on.••

But my heart aches for the FuckBoys who are FuckBoys because of FuckGirls in their past or fucked up situations that made them into FuckBoys. ((Saying all the prayers and apologizing profusely to my coworker who hates the F bomb and my mother; love you! Sorry! Had to be said!))

You don't want someone to focus on you. You no longer posses the ability to believe in love, to value another human and their ability to bring you happiness. You ride the surface waves of contentment. Never breaking down your walls, never letting anyone in deep enough to hurt you, you've been too hurt in the past.

Here's a love letter to you; because even Some-Other-Word-For-Fuck-Boys need love; 

Dear FuckBoy, 

You don't need fixed. You're not a project. You're not actually a, "FuckBoy," and we should SERIOUSLY stop using that term. It's only giving a title to something that we shouldn't be giving attention to, so let me start over: 

Dear Human Like Me, 

I love the way you're independent. The way you have a passion that exudes into every facet of life. I love the way you're strong and bold and get exactly what you want. I love those things about you. 

I love the life that has led you to this point, because it's written a story on your heart. It's made you, you. It's given you an edge that no one else has. A heart that has struggled and reflected, a heart that wasn't fed by a silver spoon. 

I know you don't want someone to tell you nice things, though. Not enough to the point of actually caring. To tell you they believe in you and have your back 110%. You don't want someone to put all their focus on you, because you can't put all your focus on them. 

I get it, though. Because I've been you, with someone else. I've been the one that just needs someone to fill a void for a moment, but not ready to commit. I've been someone who needs the attention, but not the feelings. Ive been the one ignoring slews of text messages and phone calls and not feeling a thing whilst doing so. I've unknowingly hurt people because I was hurt myself. I didn't do it with malicious intent, I did it with a slightly-still-broken heart. 

I've been you, and you've been me.

I don't wish you could value me, or value another human, or believe in true love that conquers all. I wish you could see how valuable YOU are. How much I crave seeing your soul with no barriers. How the world comes alive when I get thirty second snippets of your true feelings. I wish you could see you, how I see you. I wish you could value you, like I value you. 

You're not a #FuckBoy, you're a #ValuedMan. And I wish you would let others see that, but more importantly, I wish you'd look in the mirror and see it, too. 

Im writing this to let you in on a little secret. One day you will meet someone who questions everything you've been doing this far. Who meets you in the middle; who's crazy matches your crazy. Who makes you feel like your waiter just brought your food and two desserts you didn't pay for. Who shares your darkest secrets, and unravels your biggest dreams. Who grinds with you and never lets you settle. Who pushes you towards your dreams. Who's got you, and if that day ever comes, you've got too. 

You're worthy of love. And I hope you accept the love you deserve. 

Sincerely,

In Your Court.