Dear New Puppy

Could you fuckin not though?

No one told me having an 8 week old pup would be like having a newborn human.

Minus having to get up and physically take you out, whereas with a babe I could just roll over and hand it my tit.

You’re making me tired Skye.

You’re cute, I’ll give you that but damn!; you’re alot of work.

Please let’s work out a schedule where you allow me a solid 3 hours of sleep between your needing to be let out.

I promise to feed you and take care of you best I can but I cannot be my best if all I am doing is stress and lack of sleep eating #NotGood

I just don't fit in

It’s ok to admit to yourself that you just don’t fit in

It’s not just as a mother but a person in general

As a mother though, it’s painstakingly awkward

I always feel like the youngest of the bunch

That all these other mothers have alot more in common than I do with a rock

I sit here, at a Princess Tea Party wishing there was some way to escape

To melt into the wall so that I could just be what I know I was meant to be

A fly

On a wall

There is a mom that makes an effort

Then there is one that has introduced herself to me on 3 occasions

Remember Forgettable Face ?

See what I mean?

As a fellow (*and I use that term quite loosely) mother, I feel that somewhere along the lines I must’ve missed the class on how mothers just mother in groups

I always feel like I am missing a fundamental part of life


Not just now

That makes it impossible for me to socially interact

That is most probably the sole reason for me not attending blogging events

I am socially unable to comprehend my status as an individual or my recognition as a mother

I am sure that is 100% ok to admit that I just do not fit in

Before I Sleep Thoughts

Is it crazy that I want more of you? To see more of you? Know more of you? Is it crazy that I still cannot get you out of my head? As if you’re a drugged that I am consumed by. Engulfed in an ocean of replaying scenes with you in my mind. Am I crazy to want more than just social media? To want a bit more than what I have opened myself to? Is it ok that I have all these questions with no one to answer them. That I sit here, silently willing myself to sleep so that I could possibly dream of you. Of what we could be. What I hope of. How crazy is it that I am thinking of you when you’re thinking of your next?

You haunt my dreams

In the middle of the night as I stir awake, I dream of you. Always the same dream. Everything the same. You. Me. Us. When I wake up though. Each second after is different. More recently I awoke in a panic. Searching for you. Finding nothing but emptiness. That day, I longed for you. I know you must’ve seen me. I know you. From all angles. Not the one I want to know you from though. I wish I could caress your skin. Touch my lips to yours. Just to know you. More of you. More of the promises we once made. I once made. I know you’ve seen me. After 10 years, I warned you that I was not the same. Far from it. You reassured me that you would love me regardless. I know you must’ve seen me; as I rushed out of the brightly lit shop at 7am. You must’ve. I know I saw you. I saw you turn and look. You must’ve seen me. You must’ve seen that my warning was real. That you could not commit to the real me. The far from it me. You must’ve expected something different. I’ll never know what. If I keep you in my mind. Hoping one day, that I will either forget about you completely or that one day I might get to love you; then I might stop these nightmares. It’s a nightmare, you see. When I wake up I am not alone but I am not with you. When I am so wrapped up in wanting to know you more but you’re just out of my reach. Maybe if I give up, just this once. But you must’ve seen me. You must’ve realised that you could not love the unlovable. I warned you, if only you had listened. If I could only stop my heart from breaking. If only we never put any effort into this. From the beginning. If I could turn back time, I’m not sure if I would choose to stop wanting to know you; because as heartbreaking as it is, it gives me hope. Hope that one day I might get to see you, even just a fleeting glance. Not just the pics I see on Facebook. Not just the years of stalking I go through. I saw you. I am sure you saw me. Just as my heart breaks, I know seeing me broke yours.

Be warned,

The Unlovable