Not For A Reason

Things don’t happen for a reason. Things happen because people make choices. Lauren chose to lie and cheat on me. I chose to allow it. She chose to disappear from my life. I chose to feel extreme pain.

I now choose to move on. I am still not ready to date, because I need time to myself. But I have brought friends back into my life that I cut out when I dated her.

I have been applying for job promotions in other cities. I am back in the gym 3-5 times a week. I yoga twice a week. I go out again. I go to counseling.

I laugh again. I’m looking forward to my first night of good sleep. Soon, I hope.

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Born Free

I finally broke through to the “acceptance” stage of grief.

Sweet relief!

She made a point to bring her new boyfriend by my office door and had a gawky conversation using a voice and words that sounded like awkward daytime script. Forced playfulness for the benefit of the audience.

I felt no pain. No sadness. I just kept working.

Ten weeks. It took ten weeks to be set free from her toxicity. I feel as though I pushed through a terrible membrane, and now I’m breathing. Fresh air.

I see her for who she really is now. I finally see what my friends warned me about when I first started dating her. It’s like using my eyes for the first time.

I have so much that I want to say, but I haven’t slept much in ten weeks and I’m exhausted. It’s time to get some peaceful sleep.

So I will just say that I’m so grateful that it’s over. I learned so much about myself over the last year. More later.

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There is no more need for you, now. Should I keep my killer?

Murderer of the misled, your gentle prints are everywhere. But no one is looking for you.

Your sanguine stroke, plunging the knife forward in full view of the greedy glass eye. You snap, you chat. Filter. Your wolves gather.

With a slasher’s practice you swipe right. You match, and my bruised blood flies. You smear it with pointy fingers; a thirsty boy audience erupts with erotic glee.

Your blade flaps and laughs. You circle back and twirl with an injured smile. A final fatal strike, and for the first time I rise.

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No Closure

The most painful question for this wounded lover is


The hard, most jagged, bitter answer I received was

“It doesn’t matter now, anyway.”

She pitched that answer to me in a parking lot, when she already had been making arrangements with another man who lived in her apartment complex… And several other men using the Tinder app.

“It doesn’t matter now, anyway.”

A cowardly dismissal of what we held dearest. A year-long love affair batted away amid a parking lot conversation, like a nuisance bee, as she collected her keys, called me a beggar, and drove to him… I’m told she just tweeted that he’s the “2018 upgrade”. Dear friends: Please don’t tell me these things. Because now I have to eventually forgive her for that too, and I’m running out of forgiveness. Please don’t let me run out of forgiveness. It’s the only thing keeping me from drying up, the only liquid I have left.

But please, friend: Have you heard anything else?

“It doesn’t matter now, anyway.”

Hearing those words was beyond belief. Those words. They were a dagger thrown into the middle of a beautiful portrait we painted together and tenderly called “us” and kept on the wall for the appreciation of all, including ourselves. A Rembrandt created with two brushes, by two lovers who made promises of forever.

I will always love you.

I will always take care of you.

I will grow old with you.

I will protect you, and never, ever hurt you.

“It doesn’t matter now, anyway.”

It rips through the canvas and tears at the soul. The agonizing abruptness and cold cruelty slice through the stomach and let everything inside the body spill out to the ground. The appetite leaves because there is no longer a reason to eat. Food falls from the hand, back to the plate.

Now for the worst cruelty: this week she made a point to seek me out, and kiss Mister 2018 in front of me.


For reasons that are unknown to her, for reasons that are stark, ironic and hellish to behold, she is ultimately right:

It doesn’t matter now, anyway.

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“I hope one day, we find each other again and laugh over whatever pain we might have caused…” – R.M. Drake

I am trying to make you a part of my past, to break away from you, but our experiences together keep us connected on a cosmic level. Forever connected. Time is an illusion.

I have to change the way I think about you. The lens I use to view our experiences together… Our “time” together. I must be aware that I cannot bury your memories, lest I should bury a part of me. I am alive, and no part of me can be buried until all of me is ready to return to dust. I must accept my experiences with you the same way I accept a sunrise and a sunset.

Eventually I will heal enough to smile about some of our memories together. For now, I will settle for just being grateful to the Creator for putting you in my path although I do not understand why.

I am grateful that I survived you.

I am stronger for having survived you.

That’s the best I can manage right now. But I know me well enough to know that I can and will change my view of our experiences, eventually. Those changes in my heart will bring me more peace and awareness; they are blessings, waiting on my horizon.

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I forgive you for the lies you told me the entire year we were together.

I forgive you for cheating on me.

I forgive you for the STD you gave me and then lied about, as I choked on the chalk water they made me drink at the hospital.

I forgive you for abandoning me with no explanation.

I forgive you for the way you twisted the knife, by parading men around in front of me.

I forgive you for your continuing harassment.

I forgive you.

I forgive you, because I need to do so in order to forgive myself too.

And now, I’m moving past you.

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Being Single

Being single feels like failure. I’m still in pain from my breakup and every instinct in me tells me to frantically find someone to distract me, to help me avoid the pain, to help me create the illusion of being okay again. She moved on less than 24 hours after we broke up. It’s been six weeks and I can’t imagine being intimate with anyone else.

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Beautiful Faces

Take a quick scroll through Instagram, and realize that a beautiful face is very ordinary.

Inner beauty is extraordinary. Inner beauty transforms the way others see you. People with inner beauty flourish before the eyes of others and these people become even more attractive as time goes by.

When you look in the mirror, do you hate your face?

Are you not accepting that you are a wonderful person, capable of creating happiness and positive connections with others?

Physical beauty fades. There are no exceptions to this rule. Become the person you were meant to become, and realize that you cannot become this person by simply slipping on clothes or makeup. True beauty lies within the heart.

Beautiful faces smile even though their teeth aren’t straight, their eyes aren’t perfectly symmetrical, their nose doesn’t look right in photos. They smile. They are beautiful because of their acceptance. Acceptance of self. Acceptance of others.

Don’t use social media as the framework for your self-image. This will lead you down a path of self-loathing, and zero tolerance for the imperfections of others. This is a path towards loneliness and regret.

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Loss, and Spiritual Death

When we reach the bottom, the absolute bottom, when we feel like we can’t go any further down, and that the only answer is to leave this world and the pain behind, we die.

Some of us put guns in our mouths and die a mortal death. But many of us will remove the guns from our mouths, find a way to get up, pick up the pieces, start over. In that moment we die, but we only die a spiritual death… We are reborn again in the same bodies.

We are surrounded by people who have experienced this death and rebirth within the same bodies. We brush past these people as we focus on daily distractions from our pain. But take notice, because these people are closer to the truth than we can imagine.

The spiritual death and rebirth takes place when we are at our lowest and yet survive. In our darkest moments we are forced to face our fear; we are forced to work through our pain and despair. We are forced to eventually accept the loss of what we thought we couldn’t live without, and then begin to realize what truly matters in our lives. Some of us will spiritually live and die many times over in the span of a mortal lifetime. Each rebirth is a transformation we make as we get closer to our true selves.

Loss is painful, but it is a crucial part of our path. A necessary waypoint. In order to move forward, we have to walk through it. To walk around it, to avoid the pain of our loss, is to leave our path.

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