Youtube

I've started this channel as a way to connect better and answer the ever increasing number of questions I receive. You're welcome to join me there and continue on with me. 

https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCj8I9KViBnZaI_AWuvbLxkQ

On To The Screen

Crazy on the Inside, is now in the works for television and screenplays. I've been in Kansas City for the past week meeting with the producer and creator of American Chopper to create a format for mine.  All my dreams are coming true and my hard work is paying off in spades. Thank you for following my journey and I hope you will stick around for my second book as well as the big screen adaptations. 

Much love for all your support...without an audience I am not here...thank you thank you thank you

Audiobook VI

The audiobook was released July 14th!! I was away on a solo road trip and just let it all go. 

Here's the link to my Amazon page...much love and thank you for the ongoing support!

https://t.co/lpDGYpjPNW

Audiobook V

Remember the agents...the publishers that all promised to help me that so easily parted ways with me when I refused to tell lies? 

I was worried I didn't bend enough, maybe in order to capture it I would have to sell out a little and play ball...but could I and how much of a sell out? 

Last night a PR firm out of Illinois, reached out as they tracked the progress of my audiobook. This morning they advised they would like the opportunity to launch me and work with me for a year with a  budget that I don't have to fund.

I was ready for anything with my book, I just wanted to stay the course and make sure the integrity of the story was secured. 

My team will be selected by the end of this week in preparation for the audio launch. 

My good friend Lisa quite poetically pointed out..."This is your yellow brick road and you choose your scarecrow, tin man and lion". My circle is strong and my friends are elite...I am proud of the table I have set and those who hold seats. 

Audiobook IV

Golf is still a trigger for me, I miss that part so much...maybe instead of trying to let it go I'll honour it as the token I'll take with me. I watch Bailey show Fiona how to use the different clubs and it still hurts like day 1. I just cannot understand why this is difficult. I know the toll mental health plays on us, I just never knew the extent his would come to hate me. I hold out hope some days that he finds a way through his own darkness and remember our friendship, or something he liked about us. I guess I hope my love wasn't lost to his Jekyll, but I'll probably never know. 

I fly out tomorrow, I'm heading back to the coast to meet someone new. I waited a long time to meet him, I didn't think Marcus would come back, but I wanted to make sure my feelings were no longer on fire. I'm actually excited, he's quite kind and very relaxed and perhaps the biggest attraction is that he too is open. Maybe that was my issue before, I don't know but I'm ready to move forward in finding another relationship. 

I get the audio version of my book back this week and will release it as soon as I can. I only have gratitude for my life and those that have been part of it. Tomorrow I start a new part, it's not a chapter...it's so much more than that...

Audiobook III

We sent in the completed audio to be engineered for the audiobook version. I thoroughly enjoyed recording and it was only made better by having Dan along side me. I feel like this is the last big portion that I can do to move my dream forward. I have learned so much in the past several weeks; thinking I was breaking and descending back into my trauma, I was merely evolving into my strongest self. Today feels like a brand new chapter, with a past I feel good about because I took the time to heal and collect all of my favourite memories. I couldn't tell you what he looks like anymore, I don't know how I feel about that but I'm not about to look back and see. A deal I made with myself was that once I walk away, I don't look back...not at social media, pictures or even messages...all are triggers best left buried. I do wish my past partners well, I hope they are deeply in love and flourishing in their happiness. 

I feel incredibly proud of who I have become. I feel strong in my character and in my convictions...I'm ready to see what I can do...

Audiobook II

We just crossed the halfway mark of recording the book and should be done before we leave for LA next week. I have sold so many books all over Europe recently that I imagine the audiobook will only make it go further faster. I didn't realize the emotional toll it would take on me to read my book after a couple of years, each night I feel emotionally exhausted and more in love with my husband...we continuously find ways to bring back the passion and fall right back in love. 

I decided to meet someone, he has been asking me for months but I have held steady hoping Marcus would have balanced...but this morning I woke up and I was balanced. We facetime a lot, he lives on a jet because of his work and wants to spend a year with me. I cant even imagine getting picked up each month on a jet to be whisked away...but I'm signing on...he's charming and just wants to have adventures with me...

Audiobook I

I started to record my audiobook last weekend. Dan and I found an easy elite program and so far we have four completed chapters, two have already been sent to be mastered. I feel motivated and ready to get back to my things and press forward. It was fun being a cheerleader for Marcus for a while, chasing dreams is euphoric...but my dreams haven't exactly come full circle. I'm glad I am doing this and finding another way to push my book and vision forward. I've set up a little studio in my bedroom closet and the acoustics are perfect, Dan fits nicely beside me running the computer and making edits in real time. 

I'm learning to appreciate all the phases and changes that life brings about. Even finding comfort and love in the pain of having to let go and knowing I can't control anything but myself and how I frame my thoughts and experiences. He won his tournament, he's first in his division. Who knew swapping out a photographer with a caddy would do so much good! He's impressive but has stated having Matt help him read the greens would go a long way...apparently all the way to first. I truly hope the best for him in every corner of his life in his mind, body and soul...I still can't make sense of so much, but I guess that's life and sometimes you just have to be okay with that... 

The Transition V

I woke this morning with a lighter feeling in my chest and definitely more happiness in my heart. It's a battle of letting the bad go while trying to capture the good and wrap my heart in love all at the same time. I know I'm resilient, I think there comes a time when you realize that time will heal you and that soon, I will have my closure to move forward. I know the time is coming...I guess I feel sad that soon I won't care. It sounds crazy but theres a real feeling of hurt when you know you are going to get over someone...as if the love is lost and not transferable. Maybe I still hold on that the person I loved really exists, but I step further from that theory with every passing day. It's difficult to give up on people, you can't slay their dragons and sometimes...you become one...

The Transition IV

I still struggle to sleep through the night, I just don't understand how someone could fumble me so badly...unless that was always the play. I loved him, I wanted to be that person he could rely on to be there to help him build his life and be a good friend and lover on his journey, I just wanted to add a fun partnership...I never showed up to take anything other than his time. I assumed his aspirations were so great that my limits fit in perfectly...and they do...just not for him. I would have felt relieved for him to have a girlfriend close by, I can't even think of a reason not to tell me he wanted at least another partner. Imagine the nerve of telling me daily how he was lied to and cheated on throughout all his relationships only to be doing the exact thing to me...it's shocking to the soul. Just like Joseph, he takes the entire relationship and burns it...the friendship, for them, only exists within the intimacy you share. I think of Marcus and wished he could have seen how a strong friendship with me outweighed any other type of relationship. We all have our faults, we all have a story and I miss hearing his...and being part of it. I still can't tell you how I became the enemy to him, I don't know if it can ever be undone and I sure as hell don't know how to fix it so I don't say anything at all...I keep writing and writing...I just have to let him go...

The Transition III

He still emails me, I don't know why. I skim read the hate and just throw it in the trash. I don't understand that level of meanness...he was hiding lovers and I found out. Seems like an easy exit for both of us. I haven't lost my temper or anything, I just accepted that he moved one way so I moved another...that's it. I don't want to spend my time and energy arguing with someone I don't trust and no longer respect so I don't even read it let alone respond. I don't engage with toxic emotional out bursts, he's 35 and lacks all self control...I'm not about to teach a grown man how to act. I scroll on and find something or someone interesting. 

It's been a while since my single side has been vacant...

The Transition II

I'm a bit shook, still a touch unforgiving and a little sharp with those who want to comfort me. There's nothing to comfort, it was never going to last and I cannot help him, and that makes it easier to stay away. I was going to go out with another gentleman but it just didn't work out...I didn't really care. I know I'll want something but I'm unclear of the blueprint moving forward. Letting go of someone feels so easy compared to letting go of who you thought they were. Some days the timeline is stuck in my brain and I have no forgiveness and other days I collect the memories I love most and tuck them away hoping when I revisit they will make me smile again. 

That's the thing with life...everything cannot be a waste of your time, not everything is supposed to work out...but that doesn't mean you shouldn't honour the time. I learned so much, I hurt so much and I loved so much. I have regrets, but they will fade long before the happy memories do. In time I will find a place in my heart for a least one snap shot of out time together...perhaps each time I get to step on a golf course, although I still believe that I will watch him play again...although it will be on a screen. Each day I forgive each of us a little more and find a way to remove the anger around it all... 

The Transition I

I'm not even mad, it's more of a sadness that I lost a friend in a lover, I always value the friendship most. I hope he does well and finds a way to have peace in his heart. It's easy to discard people when you feel they have wronged you, it's difficult to look past the pain and try to understand why they may have chosen that path. I still can't make sense as to why this all happened, maybe it's not something I can ever make sense out of so I find a way to bring closure for myself. I wrote a letter, that I'll never send...why bother when respect for me was never on his mind or tongue. I overplayed my hand and lost, I should have known better than to show my hand to a poker player...shame on me right? My heart is in tact, although my ego is bruised, so be it. I will always love quickly and deeply, honestly and authentically...I can't imagine wasting my time being anything other...

Blindsided XII

 I dropped his iPad on the seat of the golf cart and asked him to never contact me; the lies, the manipulation...it was too much and I couldn't unsee it. Everything he ever hated about his ex's he did to me, it was like stepping out of my body when the entire picture became clear. I walked off the course and into the pro shop where I left his car keys and downloaded Uber. It was less than an hour before I was in my hotel room in Chattanooga, I didn't even break stride walking away. 

I read the time stamps with emails, text messaging women, the lies, the gaslighting...the inconsistencies and out right arrogance. While his "grandad" was emailing me from Marcus' deathbed...he was trying to make plans with other women, I felt sick for feeling so stupid. I knew he struggled with women, I just didn't realize to what degree that would look like. I sit in shock that he could lie right to my face and feel justified in it because it happened to him...my heart hurts but time will heal it all...for me anyway...

I miss him...and I hate that...

Blindsided XI

He didn't tee off until 1pm so we left after he was done at the gym in the morning. We drove mostly in silence, things had clearly changed and I was left toiling with my thoughts wondering what was real and what wasn't...my gut would not allow me to believe everything. With Marcus, the sun rises because of me on the good days and on the bad days...I am the enemy he loathes and cannot state it enough...so what's real? That's the problem, when you say everything...it means nothing. I don't know the relationship anymore, my last visit was brutal and stressful...most of our time together is. We pulled up to the club with plenty of time for him to practice, I decided to clear my head out and take a short walk around the course. 

By the time we hit the turn to the back nine the picture had come in clearly and I was numb. Holding his iPad taking videos and pictures, conversations scrolled to the left and three women popped up...but he stated as early as a couple days prior that he was not interested in any other women...even though he knew it would be okay and appropriate for him to do so. It occurred to me that the familiar hotel room was his hospital room...the one time he went that triggered my commitment to head back and hopefully reset the relationship. I remembered commenting on how nice the bed and room was...he took me right there! 

What the hell was going on? I was spinning, or it felt like it...I no longer knew who I was with...

Blindsided X

I went with him to work, well, I dropped him off then went to get his spare putter from his house. I finally brought in the hamper we purchased during my last visit, I don't know that he was at home much at all between hospital visits and staying over by the course when he drank too much. His grandad was making coffee when I opened the door, he's always pleasant to me; Marcus will tell you that his grandad doesn't live with him but I assure you...he lives with him. I bit my tongue and refrained from asking him about our email exchanges regarding Marcus being in the hospital, part of me felt he would have no idea what I was talking about...I swallowed my anxiety again, grabbed his putter, a pair of socks and headed back to get him from work. 

Driving back I started to count and collect little red flags that were dropped along the way that I simply chose to ignore. But why? Everything felt off, and it seemed like if one thing wasn't falling apart then another was and together we could never seem to land on the same page although I was seeing the picture a lot more clearly now. We were heading to his golf tournament in Georgia the next day and I was starting to wonder why I had come at all. The eggshells were starting to crumble under my feet as inconsistencies piled higher and higher...there's literally no reason to not be honest with me...so what's going on? 

I let him get away with too much too soon. My boundaries weren't as strong as they should have been and I allowed vulnerability to excuse things I never would have tolerated. We're clearly not our best together...so why does it make me sick to leave?

Blindsided IX

Well, it wasn't completely over I guess. After a few emails from what was supposed to be his grandad as well as a few facetime sessions in what was supposed to be his hospital room...I bit the bullet and went back to Nashville. Lucky me, he got out the day before I arrived...imagine going from deaths door to being able to play eighteen holes the next day...I had my questions but after a day of flying I just got in his car and headed for the course. His friends are lovely and he easily fits in and is in his comfort zone, it's always a pleasure to watch. I cracked a Modelo and settled in for the afternoon, completely uneasy and trying to distract my anxiety. 

We rounded the turn to head into the back nine when he notified me that we'd stay out for the night to avoid his grandfather...I didn't care either way. I hated my gut, the uneasiness, the way it never lets me just exist in the moment without causing waves...inconsistencies create havoc in my thoughts. I tried by best for the remainder of the day to push everything out of my head, I was already there and decided to wait on having any kind of deep conversation...our relationship had been so tumultuous lately I didn't want to ruin the little calm we finally found.

We were both so exhausted by the time we reached the hotel we barely had a chance to talk as he had to be up early for work and then race to make his tee time straight afterwards. Laying in bed listening to him sleep it occurred to me that the room was familiar, the wall colour, pictures, bed frame...and I could tell you I had never stayed in that hotel before...not in any state...

Blindsided VIII

Three visits...and it all fades away. Well, it didn't die quietly but it's done...I couldn't stop the train and by the time he stopped talking...the damage was done and so was I. I miss his smile, his attention and friendship but not the rollercoaster I was forced onto daily. I was supposed to fly south this weekend but decided against it...I think I'll go west...adventures await...

Blindsided VII

In tournament play you have to tee off from a certain place, it's usually between the mens and woman's, which means a lot of times he has to pull back. His driving game is no joke, and every time, not once or twice, every fucking time, it's a show...for me at least. I can close my eyes, picturing him standing back out of the tee box...spotting the flag, gauging the fairway and breathing deep. His club in his right hand, rested at his side, one last breath, swings it out twice to loosen his arms and steps into the box. My heart is pounding out of my chest, excited butterflies fill my body and I feel so honoured to be part of his journey. I can never track the ball, I just keep my eyes on the fairway or the greens, but the four of them will stand up there and talk about the curvature and how it bounced and rolled a certain way...I just know he can birdie the hole with that shot...curve? I have no idea. 

One of my favourite things about Marcus is how he is completely unselfish when it comes to golf. He's kind, considerate and encouraging to those around him. His swagger isn't off putting, in fact I think it's us that believe he has swagger...I bet he doesn't even claim it...but for the rest of us, yeah, he has swagger and rightfully so. He's out there to beat you on the course, but not beat you down, he'll encourage you the whole way while he is continuously draining birdies...don't ever expect him to play down...not even for ME! But that doesn't mean he doesn't want you to do well, to get better and to have a great time. 

Golf is unforgiving, it's easily the hardest sport I've ever attempted and watching it is enough at times to make my blood boil. How exactly does a ball roll into and then out of the cup? Your ball hit a pebble...you're in no mans land. Your ball is on a steel grate...take a drop shot! I watched him eat stroke after stroke and slide to tenth...whoa! My butterflies turn my excitement into nausea...in Phoenix he finished so strong it was almost surreal watching him birdie hole after hole to climb back into contention. Now, he's on his home turf and with a close friend riding shotgun...the butterflies calm, I'm ready to witness. 

One stroke...the difference between him and first...he's already thinking about the next tournament while he collects a small fortune in skins winnings...golf is the emotional rollercoaster I never knew I needed...

Blindsided VI

He starts on the back nine of his season opener, paired with a good friend. I'm not entirely sure why they insist on playing through the ridiculously high winds coupled with large patches of snow, but we're ready to tee off next. Everyone knows him, and they adore him. He's humble with his spectacular talent and like every other time we golf...they want to be near him. I can hear the whispers, see their expressions and know they too want to see him go all out. It's a competition, but not really, the men around him put their energy behind him and push with him. Of course they want to win, but they know the odds and his recovery game is unmatched, so until he walks off the course, he's always either in the hunt or sitting pretty on his throne. 

There's a little more sparkle when he golfs with his friends and on his home turf. He's never arrogant on the course, there's no need, his confidence is solid as he's steps into the tee box. He's going in cold with a new driver, well, he got it a year ago, but last minute, he swapped out two clubs...that's fucking gutsy, perfectly on brand for him. I held my breath because it felt better than questioning him. One thing I know for sure is that as a sports mom and a sports lover...I never question the athlete before they take the field. So much of it is a mental game and since I don't play...I don't say a word, not even out of curiosity. You can't get into his head, it's not available. His mental game is like his recovery game...unmatched. 

Sitting in the golf cart felt like being in a wind tunnel, standing outside of it wasn't any better. It didn't matter, he was hitting every fairway like the wind wasn't even touching him. Driving the ball over three hundred yards consistently is pretty incredible, but being accurate over ninety percent of the time is insane. There was a young man on his foursome who could drive the ball about forty yards further at times...but he's not hitting fairway...he was in no mans land several times. 

The first nine holes were brutal, between the wind, cold and snow it was absolutely miserable...for me. He was sitting nicely at the top of the leader board as we hit the turn to the front nine...

Blindsided V

Picking up and letting go, letting go and picking up is a cycle I have come to perfect over the years.  Learning to let go, teaching myself what to let go of and coming to terms with everything freely moving in and out of my life took time, my god it took so much time. Letting go feels like forgiveness, initially the thought is crippling, you fight it and try to find any reason not to because it means letting go of something within yourself, something that was a part of you, or at least felt as though it was. I used be afraid of letting go of anything from the people I loved to my favourite shirt...holding on to it as if nothing could possibly ever be better than this right now and knowing it's not entirely true if I just stop to think about it for a minute. It all comes down to loss, and I have never been a good loser, however, not all things we let go of is lost or a loss...sometimes what we let go of helps us soar from no longer having the weight of it but we can't even fathom it at the time and letting go feels painful. Eventually, it becomes second nature and you realize everything lives and dies for you on this hill. This was a hill I was committed to die on if necessary, believing if I could comfort myself through the loss then I was home free... and I was fucking right! It's not a perfect system, it's not as if you won't feel the sadness of loss, it just means that you can weather the storm and know that when the sun rises you honoured your feelings and let them all go...

I've struggled the last several months, my inner circle cracked hard and I had to watch my mother and son walk away from my table. I will never let go of my son in my heart...but I still had to let him go and watch him walk away. I have faith that time and distance will paint a new picture for him and he will return to my table, but I don't know that for sure. My heart aches but this is his lesson and I have to let him go through it...so I let go and hope we can pick it up again...and I hope it's sooner rather than later...but even that, I've let go of...

Blindsided IV

I have a few perfect moments, I like to collect them then replay them in my mind. Sometimes I swap them out as I collect new ones...and I was collecting a lot of new ones with Marcus. He's a writer, and he's good. His passion hits the same heights as mine and it knocks me back a bit, he's truly talented in so many ways. When he pours all of that and his knowledge of sports together I could read him all day long. He writes about me, he breathes life into our relationship when we can't be together, it's sweet and thoughtful. We struggle at times, our energy is almost the same and we both come with a wealth of it, I wish at times they didn't mix, or effect one another. I romanticize the expectations I have on myself, others and relationships and feel that I can't connect properly on one end or the other. The other day, Marcus was telling me about a conversation he had with his coach where he breaks down the course into 3 mini courses and uses those as individual tournament markers. I think it's brilliant, I'm going to use that for my days, I'll break it into three parts and that way imperfect moments can't ruin my whole day...

Golf is teaching me so much...

Blindsided III

Golf is funny, but in a way that’s frustrating to the point of self-destruction and just when you’re ready to throw your clubs in the air it pulls you back in with a chip shot right into the cup. We already know he’s made of W’s, from softball to poker to golf he is exceptional. The other day he found strength and determination through the agony of lost balls, off set rules and an unforgiving course. I watched him, standing under a tree on the back nine, chin to the sky and eyes closed…he’s digging deep. I’ve never seen this side, I’ve never had the opportunity, the privilege to witness the attempt at a comeback. He knows the math, he knows all the scores, what’s left and what he can accomplish in the last four holes…maybe not the W, but I wanna see what he can do. I choke down my anxiety and watch him step up to fifteen. 

This is one of my favourite things on earth…Marcus at the tee box with his driver…there’s nothing better! He studies the fairway, spots the pin, steps into box and makes magic. I have yet to meet someone who has golfed with him and isn’t picking their jaws up from the greens. There’s always one who see his greatness, they seem to be the ones that understand and respect the game and what he brings to it, he’s a purist. Like a quiet mentor because they have played the course to remembrance and can’t wait give him a tour, to be of some assistance to him. Witnessing is enough for many, but some respectfully find their way into his space through small talk. I’m sure they carry it around with them too…they know where’s he’s headed and likely can’t wait to tell their friends about the day they golfed with him. Maybe a few will throw in how they helped him birdie a hole…or even gifted him a club. 

He’s steady, his confidence checked back in and his focus has been restored. He always has the furthest drive, so I never miss a shot walking to his next one. I’m counting the strokes in my head, obsessing over the other players scores and wondering what can actually happen. He's counting too, except on a completely different level…he already has all the combinations figured out. He drops in a birdie. I jump then try to compose myself, I’m not shocked. Another drive, another birdie. My heart is in my throat, his smile is still tucked away. By the time he walked into the tee box at seventeen I was full on holding my breath…as if it would make a difference. I’ve lost all the math and combinations of winning…I’m strictly here to bear witness…he drops another birdie; I throw my arms in the air as a silent cheer and make my way to eighteen. 

Sitting on the bench it hits me like truck, when my flood gates open, I can never seem to find the way to close them again. I can never seem to gather my composure and find a way to move forward without crumbling under the pressure while my confidence runs away. When I’m close enough, I sync my breath with his, just to be in his calmness. I couldn’t get that close today, I’m just a spectator at his tournament, and I can only offer smiles and encouragement from afar. 

He didn’t birdie the last hole, he bogied…but that’s beside the point now. I don’t know what he prayed for standing under that tree a few holes back, but I can tell you it was delivered. Some people never find the courage to step into their greatness and take a real shot at their dreams…and then some people have nothing but courage and a long line of cheerleaders hoping to be part of something great. 

Blindsided II

What if your greatness isn't great at all, what if you're only here to bear witness to someone else's greatness? I think about that. I think about everything I have done, everything I have created and I wonder, in all of that...am I greatness or bearing witness. We must all believe we have some sort of greatness in us, perhaps a seed planted by a parent, teacher or sibling...something that separates us. I would have told you everyday for the better part of my life that I am bound for greatness and I still believe that...but now I consider the scope and what greatness truly means to me. I read a quote that said, "We all die. The goal isn’t to live forever, the goal is to create something that will." Greatness isn't left to us, you can't always gage it like an elite athlete who breaks records in real time...some of us will never know greatness merely because of our mortality, so, as a token, I will bear witness to others. 

I met Marcus online, Twitter actually, not even a dating site. He's clever, not in the smart ass way I am, he's actually clever in his thoughts and strategies. He's a poker guru, or was at one point in his early twenties but don't let that fool you, he has no shame in taking your hard earned money right off the table. He's funny, loves sports, is a writer and at 35 years old...he's making a play for the PGA Tour. I fucking hate golf, or, hated it up until a couple of months ago. We met in Las Vegas for our first week of dates and spent much of it on the course. Once he showed me how to drive the ball I could understand the draw to the game, at least until putting came along. At the driving range he's completely unsuspecting, he just goes about his business for the first few balls but once he uses his driver...the gallery starts to form. Have you ever watched a grown man take clubs from his bag just to watch someone else use them, cause I haven't. I almost fell over when he insisted on gifting Marcus one of his drivers. And that would have been fine and a great little memory...had it not happened at every range. 

Perhaps for now, I'll bear witness to his greatness while I manifest my own...

Blindsided I

Joseph and I parted ways almost five months ago, it was hurtful...but by that time, everything was hurtful. I couldn't even tell you what happened, and today, I don't even care...everything reaches completion. I spent several weeks meditating and pouring love into myself and finally reached the destination of indifference. I didn't want it to get to that point but it did and so I do the work and vacate him from my soul. One day I will go back to collect some memories, ones outside of my book, but right now I refuse to pour more energy into watering dead flowers. 

I struggled, a lot. Not with him leaving, but the fashion, the pain and the trauma he unloaded as he left and it's difficult not to take it personally...even knowing it's his own insecurities eating him alive. One day I remember feeling relieved, probably more for him than myself. I could feel his anxieties around me, around my time and around the ways my life was changing and expanding. It didn't feel difficult to let him go, after listening to someone tell you the same things over and over you can no longer unfeel those feelings or unhear those words and collectively we released each other from the agony our relationship had evolved into. 

I didn't know what life after Joseph would feel like, I guess I didn't ever think about it. My friends rallied around and filled all the spaces in my heart and day, and just like that they lifted me back into my balance. I spent several weeks wondering, thinking back and trying to find any sense in it all but the reality is that in life and in love many things will never make sense. I stopped going back trying to complete the puzzle and just accepted that all the pieces were never there. Trying to make something work without proper pieces only creates droplets of resentment that collect over time and pool in your heart. It's not enough to just want something and so I step back and decide if it's worth trying again with someone else...