I’m broken, but you said it’s beautiful…

Who knew I had to be broken to find myself.

Who knew that I need to be broken to find you.

Who knew that broken would be the end of something.

Who knew that broken would be the beginning of you.

Who knew that broken can be a mess.

Who knew that broken can be beautiful.

Who knew broken would be where we would meet.

Let’s blend our broken pieces and build us from here.

-Note To Self

What dissapoinment look like..

That moment when you had high hopes, and in less then a second it felt like something heavy and invisible drops on you. And a sense of a tightness in the chest , where one skips a heart beat, even a few breaths. An awkward feeling like little ants crawling through out ones body. Where ones mind shuts down and those words are repeated non stop. Where all sound, all voices, are muffled and not one word or sound can be distinguished. Where you move and feels like your floating, hoping it was just a dream, but knowing it’s reality.

Can I get home? So I can walk straight to my room. I want to remove my purse, my jacket, drop the keys, take off my shoes, then slide into my bed and pull the covers over my head. Why does my one simple goal seem so far, I didn’t expect it to be taking me this long. I didn’t expect it to be this hard. What was I thinking, what made me think I can take up something like that with 3 small kids. I am loosing my hair, my mind. Is this stress worth it? Will I reach the very end, and say “it was worth it”..? I know…. JUST BREATH..

-Note To Self

Beautiful Soul

What caught my attention?

Lets start with the day being warm, clear blue sky. You, behind the steering wheel, your hands griping to the rubber loop that controlled the vehicle. Your sleeves, rolled up half way, enough to get glimpses of your tattoos you hide, with that blue work button up shirt and tie. Your eyes, glazing to the street up ahead while the suns light reflected off of your glasses. Your face freshly shaved, yet I can distinguish a short hair that managed to avoid getting cut off. Your lips dry, yet still softly pink as you sing. Your voice, as you magically sing every lyric of each song that comes on. How do you memorize it all? That quick smirk, that lifts from the corner of your lips, when you realize I have been staring at you. That peaceful body language you give off. That eyebrow lift, that gives away, that you are about to look at me. What caught my attention? Your inner joy, your optimism, your mind, your indifference, your serenity, your passion, your gestures, your manners, your heart, must I go on… How can you not get caught up into a beautiful soul.

-Note To Self