I dreamt about you last night. Vividly.

It fascinates me how our subconscious works. How out of all the people in my memories, you’re the one my subconscious chose last night. It wasn’t really you though. It was the idea of you, of who I thought you could be, wrapped up in your beautiful body. It was the you that could’ve been with me, for real. It was the you I could’ve loved.

You were the kind of person all the girls fantasized about. The kind that could give you the tingles in places that you didn’t know existed. The kind that made you feel like you were flying.

I often think about what kind of person you are now. I then find myself wondering if you ever found someone to love. I wonder if she makes you coffee late at night when you’re writing, if she holds you when you’re upset or if she can tell what mood you’re in just by looking into your eyes. I wonder if she makes you fly.

I would never trade what I have now for anything in the world. I would never go back to you if you begged. You were everything I wanted, but nothing that I needed. We could never have worked, we were too much alike. I wasn’t meant to take care of someone, to heal the wounded. (Although it’s funny that now that very thing is what I do for a living) I was meant for someone to understand the fine line and balance of knowing when I need to be taken care of and when I need to do it on my own. I was meant for someone who isn’t like me, and as frustrating as that can be, it brings a wonderful harmony to the relationship. I could never imagine being married to myself.

So I do still think about you. I apparently still dream about you. But I don’t miss you.

You were everything I wanted, but nothing that I needed.

finally set up my home office

We moved in our house in October, and we still aren’t even close to settled.

Now that I’m getting busier as a freelance writer (crazy exciting!), I figured it was time I started arranging my home office. I usually work off of my laptop but setting up at my desk and desktop has a nice touch.

I finally put up my first published article, along with an scholarship plaque that I want. And, of course, my sign that says “behind every successful woman is a strong cup of coffee”…..as evidenced by the coffee cup on my desk…

i’m officially reviewed!

I received my first professional review as a freelance writer yesterday. Honestly, it shocked me to my core because it was the kindest, most flattering thing, and something I truly never expected. It seemed to validate what I’ve been working on and towards, and make me feel like I’m not looney tunes for thinking I’m onto something.

And! I’m in the works of getting a really exciting gig. More to come later!

And #2! I’m 2.5 lbs down on Weight Watchers!

nearly 1 week down

Of Weight Watchers.

As I said in a previous post, I’m back on the point-counting wagon. My big motivation is the upcoming wedding (who knew some old friend’s wedding could be so life-changing?!) and our subsequent beach vacation (hell-o bikini…maybe?!). Tomorrow is officially the end of week 1 and so far I’m doing great. I weighed myself a day early, and have already lost 1.5lb.  It’s not a huge number but it’s a loss. It’s a step in the right direction.

Last night I spent over an hour browsing through my old blog, looking at old posts and pictures of when I was successful at weight loss. My lowest weight was 145 (good lord…), and every. single. one. of my posts from back went on and on about how happy I was, how much better I felt physically, how confident I was, and the improvements I’ve seen in my relationship with my husband.

I know I can do this, and I’m doing it. Just in these past 7 days I’ve had major temptations and I’ve fought every single one of them. I found myself measuring things like pasta and wine! But if it means I can still enjoy these things, then it’s worth measuring.

I’m sitting here sipping a delicious glass of wine, after enjoying a yummy dinner with homemade au gratin potatoes. I’d say that’s not too bad for someone trying to lose weight. Follow them points! Any other WW’ers out there?

it’s official.

Today, I became an official, paid, professional writer.

It’s still setting in, the idea that people feel my writing is good enough to pay for, that they want my content on the websites/blogs/magazines. It’s truly an incredible feeling. I think what’s more shocking to me at this point is the idea that I don’t know where this could take me. Ever since I was a little girl making up stories in my blue Winnie the Pooh journal, my dream was to be a published author. I never actually thought it would happen, though. And while I haven’t quite written a novel or been published in the New York Times, this is exciting for me. This is real life now. And I couldn’t be happier.

I will say this: I’m a little upset that this exciting thing is happening while I’m getting started on Weight Watchers again, therefore limiting my celebration to healthy snacks. I really, really want a nice glass of wine (or two), but would really prefer to eat my points instead of drink them. Disclaimer: if my husband stops and buys me my favorite bottle of wine on his way home from work, I’m going to have a glass. For me. For my future. Points aren’t the end of the world, right?


This morning is surreal.

Lately I’ve been getting up before my husband, remember I’m still off of work recovering from surgery, just to have some quiet and slow waking up. (Okay in all honesty I get up because the dogs make me… I just decided to maximize the time!)

Anyway, this morning is special. I woke up, grabbed my steaming mug of green tea, started working on bullet journal, sent an invoice, and submitted more writing proposals. Two months ago, if you painted me this picture – I wouldn’t believe you. This feeling is so wonderful, and fills me with such optimism.

Bee (of course not my professional name), RN, Professional Writer! (Yay!)

I should’ve gone.

I should’ve gone to see you that night. I think that will haunt me for the rest of my life. It would’ve haunted me more, however, if I lost you. I guess I did though, right? All that and I lost you anyway.

I have these nightmares. It’s always the same. You’re in a hospital bed, and the only lights seem to be directly over your bed. And they’re fluorescent. There’s tall glass walls surrounding you, and everything else in the building is dark. Someone called me, and I can’t bring myself to walk in your hospital room. You’re unconscious, of course. Lying there dying, innocent. I’m frantically trying to remember the last words I spoke to you. The others start arriving. Then I notice your mother is in the room with you. I don’t know what to say to her. I don’t know if I can face her. This shouldn’t be about me, but of course it is. That’s how it always is with me. Selfish bitch.

I’m numb. I don’t know anything. How you got this way. If you’ll ever wake up.

In this nightmare, it always ends in tears. Mine, your mother’s, everyone. She’s screaming at me through her tears, “How could you let this happen? I tried to tell you, I came to you for help”. I say nothing, she’s right.

It’s always the same dream. I don’t know that it will ever stop. I know you’re alive and well now, I check your social media ever so often. I do this in private of course, no one could ever know that I still think about you, let alone check up on you. It looks like you’re happy. You’re smiling in every picture. You don’t look strung out. Then again, you always were good at hiding things.

I’m of course glad I didn’t have to experience the trauma of burying you, but what hurts so damn much is that I had you, and I lost you anyway. We finally did it, we finally said we would love each other to the end, I finally trusted you enough. Then you left me alone anyway. It almost felt like you planned it. You hurt me in ways I didn’t think were possible. You were the one person who I thought could never ever leave me like that. You could never hurt me. But you did. You’ve made your point.

And in the back of my mind, I think it’s because I never came to visit you that night.