My Fist and His Face

"I believe that everything happens for a reason. People change so that you can learn to let go, things go wrong so that you appreciate them when they're right, you believe the lies so you eventually learn to trust no one but yourself, and sometimes good things fall apart so that better things can fall together." ~Marilyn Monroe

Oh, Marilyn, I so hope you're right. Those four words--I told you so--taste so bitter and unappealing on my lips, yet it is screaming for release. The words pummel themselves against the walls blocking them out, kicking and punching and slamming and smacking and using that violent pulse inside to get them what they want.

But, for whatever reason, my resolve--or, better yet, strong will--stops the words before they can fall...especially because if I did let them out, I don't know if there's anything that will help put them back in.

I've spent days and days and days, up and wandering and thinking and pondering and devouring and KILLING myself by thinking about him. His name, his clothes, his hair, his smile...the smile he gave me sister right before he not only took the smile away, he stole her heart, too.

I'm not talking any Romeo & Juliet, either. My sister might be the most resilient, most intelligent, most beautiful and kind and understanding and all-around fantastic person I know, but...well, even my sister can't handle what he dished out. Just seeing her expression and the tears in her eyes that always linger, like ghosts of a happier time, a time we want back...it tears me apart. It makes me want to go up to him and jab my thumb in his eye. Lord only knows he deserves it. I am not a violent person--truly, I'm not--but I can't stand people doing harm to those I love.

You want to mess with them? You're messing with me. So I'm protective. Sue me. It's not just a one-time thing, either. Three times this has happened. THREE TIMES!! I ask you, how can my sister not understand her worth? Has time spent with him weakened her to a point that she feels like...like she's nothing? How anyone could be so cruel as to reduce a star as bright as my sister to nothing...I can't fathom it.

Because my sister is far, far, FAR from nothing. No, I don't even want to jab my thumb in his eye. I want to MURDER him. I'm actually crying as I write this. You don't mess with my family and my friends if you want to live. Okay, so I'm a pacifist, but whatever. Leave people I love alone!

The way he treats her now...he's pouring fifty pounds of salt in her gaping wound.

Really, can you get any crueler?

(My) Mother Appreciation Day

"Men may be manly and brawn and macho, but when it comes down to it, women rule the world. More intelligent, more insightful, kinder, and all-around more kickass. Especially my mother." ~Me, just a second ago

I realized something really important. My mom is awesome. Amazing. Totally fabulous. Unparalleled in her job. I've always loved her and always will, but sometimes when you stop to think about it, not only do you love those who have grown with you just as much as you've grown with them, but you respect them.

My mother is my role model. Does she drive me nuts sometimes? Yes. Does she make me want to pull out my hair and cut it into tiny pieces? Absolutely. But I'll bet you anything I make her feel the exact same way (and she doesn't have much hair to spare).

But at the end of the day, she's the one standing there when I need a hug. When my six hours at school SUCKED and I just need someone to vent to who will actually listen and not interrupt (cough Meghan cough). So that leaves...my mom. What would I do without her? I'd probably die. I'd WANT to die, anyhow.

I love how whenever I am struggling with body-image issues, my mom's always the one there who tells me I'm beautiful. Even if I'll never believe her, she will always say it. When at the end of the day I want to curl in a ball and stay there, she coaxes me out using gentle words and the allure of a cuddle.

Let's be honest. I've never met a cuddle I didn't like.

My mom rocks, and I really haven't said that enough. So, mom? Wherever the heck you are out there, I love you. I always have, and I always will. Stubborn, beautiful, courageous, selfless, wise, and always giving, you are my role model, and will continue to do be so, even after you are gone.

I love you so much, mom. And I cannot say how sorry I am that I simply haven't said it enough. But from now on, I'll say it everyday. Just so you can always know how special and amazing you are to me.

Here's to you, mom. Here's looking at you.