Why did you stop writing?

“Why did you stop writing?”

Brooke sat slouched over with her elbows on her knees and face in the palm of her hands. She said nothing, but shrugged her shoulders.

“I can’t help you if you are not willing to talk. What happened?”

“Stuff, lots of stuff, my world seemed to just fold one storyline after another until I had no story left.”

“Your writing just stopped?”

“No, my world. I was someone. I used to write. I used to have an opinion, and people used to read my writing. It was like I was on a roll at a blackjack table and then it just stopped. I used to feel like something big was going to happen, something really great, but then I realized it wasn’t. That is when my life started falling to shit.”

“So, your writing stopped and your life fell to shit.  Is that what you are saying?”

“No, my life fell to shit and my writing stopped.”

“Ok, then why do you think this happened?”

“I don’t know.”

“Yes, you do.”

“Ok, maybe but I don’t want to say it. If I say it you will think I am nuts.” She inhales a big breath and slowly exhales like she was practicing yoga or Lamaze.  “The suicide…” She inhales another big breath and exhales. “  When she took her life, it was like she stole mine too or at least my happiness.”

“Who? Who is she? Who took who’s life?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” Tears rolled down her eyes.

“Brooke, we have been meeting once a week for over a year, and I don’t know what you are talking about. I can’t help you if you don’t talk to me.”

“I know. I know, but this is real and it hurts. It still hurts just like it did the day it happened. I don’t want to talk about it. I just want to live a happy life and I have done pretty ok. I mean people think I am happy. I do feel happy at times, but deep down she is always there. The sad part is I can only remember her dead body, the bad times, the sad times and very few good times. I just want it all to go away.”

“This is why you should write. You need to write about this. This story is real and people like you can get comfort knowing about what you are going through.”

“Yeah, that is what I thought too. Then literary agent after agent rejected me. I got to the point where I was numb. All The literary agents want from me is to write humor, but it takes every ounce of strength to find the energy to be happy. I am too tired trying to be happy that I can’t. You know what I am?”

The therapist shook his head.

“I am sad. I am fucking sad. I cry myself to sleep almost every night and that has been for ten years, 3,650 day and I don’t want to be sad anymore. The worst part is that being sad in today’s society is just not ok. It is no longer accepted. No one wants to see the tears, hear the cries or talk about the bad in life. I just can’t be fake. I am me and right now that is a sad person. I just want to

What is love?

Love has many meanings. It can the pride a mother has for a child. It the strong physical and emotional bond between baby and mother. It is the beauty in a flower, sunset, mountain tops or dress. Love can also be the euphoria of tingle when a puppy nestles up under your neck.

Love is the desire to want to know more about someone. To stay up and talk all night. To read the books they love, listen to the music they enjoy. Watch the movies they like. It is looking forward to celebrating their birthday with them. It can be wanting that person to succeed so much that you are willing to sacrifice all for them.

Love can be the tenderness of the familiar. The sight of home. The comfort in your favorite chair after a long day. It can be the excitement after receiving a long desired gift.

Love can be touch. It is the bond of a child nursing on a mother. Love can be a hug from a teacher, pastor, friend, father, mother, sibling, or spouse. Love is the tenderness of ones lips touching your own. Love is physical. It is soft. Love is gentle never aggressive.

Love is respect, care, kindness, sadness, curiosity, happiness, tears of loneliness, tears of happiness, touch and desire to want to know all about the one you love.

When you no longer care to understand the other person. You no longer want to touch, kiss, or hug love is missing. Love that hurts is love that is gone. Love can only be taken away by betrayal.

There are many types of betrayal. The most popular sexual cheating, emotional cheating, drugs, alcohol abuse, lying, physical abuse, gambling, shopaholics, sabotage, and deceit. Betrayal can come from your lover, mother, father, uncle, aunt, grandmother, grandfather, teacher, doctor, friend, pastor, enemy, or more.

What if your lover is smart, has a great job, goes to church, comes home every night, and takes care of you, but constantly betrays you? Maybe your love for that person is so strong that you stay with that person no matter how often they betray you, even if they do it every single day.

Betrayal is the only thing that can poison your love for another. When one betrays you so much that your own self-worth is destroyed it is time to find a new love, a love for yourself.

Love for yourself is the greatest love of all. Be kind and gentle to yourself. Learn about yourself. Care for yourself. Celebrate yourself. Most of all, no matter how many people betray you, never betray yourself. You are one of a kind. Your love should be one of kind too.

Shredded Heart

The blood tears flow down my face
The scarlet stains expose my fear of abandonment and shame
This shredded heart bleeds from the claws of your wrath

The boiling fire from inside me has ruptured with anger
Flames spew from my shattered shredded heart
Your conditional love poisons me

I fear no longer being alone as long as your love burns my soul
The scarlet stains are memories of all the pain
I will no longer fear abandonment or shame
I will put out my inner boiling flames as I watch you walk away
Take your conditional poisoned love
leave me to heal my shredded heart as I bleach these scarlet stains

The Bridge

Sally was busy working inside her small bustling grocery store when she noticed the young adult male sitting under the bridge. She continued working. Customers came inside mentioning the man outside.
“Do you think he’s homeless?”
“I’ve never seen him around here before.”
“This can’t be good for business.”

As the small group of women continued to chat Sally worked.
“Ah, oh my!”
“Look! He’s about to jump!”

Sally ran from around the counter and ran out the front door. More customers came up to the front window to watch the commotion.
“Should we help her?”
“Are you crazy? He could be a drug addict, thief or terrorist.”

“He’s not.  He’s a local.  He’s a loner. He goes to church every Sunday, he’s just poor.”

Sally ran up to the base of the bridge.  She didn’t want to scare the man.

“Can I help you?”


“Because I care, I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

“I’m not. I’m going to die.”

“Please don’t”

“Why do you care?”

“Because I just do, I know you have had a rough life.”

“You didn’t want to help years ago when my mother was looking for a job.  You didn’t care a month ago when my brother was shot outside your store.” The man on the bridge was angry and crying. “You didn’t care when I was looking for a job.”

“I’m sorry. I want to help you.”

“You only want to help me because the people in the store are watching.  If I die you won’t care. If I live you are the hero. I lose in both situations.”

“Let me help you. You’re right. I’ve been greedy in the past. I should have given your mom a job. I should have unlocked the door the night your brother was chased by the gunned man.  Now, I can help you.”

“For years, day and night I have suffered.  You think by stopping me from jumping you are going to help me?”

“No, I can’t make you want to live.  I just want to offer you my hand.  In good faith, I promise to now be here for you.  Death will always be there for you.  For once in your life I would like to offer you hope. You can sleep in my guest quarters.  You can work for me.  I will not be able to give your family back but I can share mine.”

Sally walked up to the man. She put her arm around him. He was shaking and crying.  “Why did you wait so long to help me or my family?”

“I’m not sure. Maybe I needed an audience to wake me from my vanity. I promise now I will always be here for you.”