Maybe it’s the moon, the homemade pizza, beers, or time with all my little women but this month, day even hour seems raw to me. So beautiful, haunting and stirring all at the same time! I shed tears over making pizza and laughed when Sam made a huge mess, giggling while stuffing her face full of sauce and cheese. Here’s the deal, I’m tired, lonely, and incredibly sad! I have hope but that beautiful, manly hope is two hours away and brand new!

Why am I manifesting perfect men that are not here?! They each get better and closer but not here?! So the question I’m asking myself, am I honoring my need for space?! Or am I feeding my unworthiness vice?! And how the fuck do I know the difference between the two?

I fell hard after my split only to be cheated on and lied to by another, then was swept off my feet by a handsome stranger in passing, and now, my heart has been captivated and pulled completely, but there’s distance still. The moon is bewitching tonight, so I sit, on my porch, drinking my beer with Buddha and listen to the nights secrets. I’m no closer to figuring out what I’m doing but at least there has come a gentle ease, a releasing of fear. This life, these experiences are exactly what we need, dare say, what we created. Not convenient, not easy, but still blisteringly divine!