More of the same

Ive been in Denver for 24 hours. 

M is here, upstairs, asleep. We’ve been a little sassy with each other but I guess that’s to be expected when you’re stuck together nonstop and have the stress of traveling on top of it. 

I kissed him when I went to leave the room and hang with my dad downstairs. His phone went off. I don’t usually look. It just gives me anxiety after what happened last time

But I saw “awesome Ali” was texting. I tossed the phone toward him and said its awesome Ali, better get it. 

I walked out, annoyed, angry and self conscious yet again.

I want to trust him.

I’m pretty sure Ali is his friend who happens to live in Colorado (where we are staying) and, oh yeah, used to be his girlfriend. 

Not sure what to do. Letting it go at this point because I don’t want issues on this trip. 

I’m tired of this. 

Maybe I’m overreacting. Maybe my gut is telling me something. 


I’m feeling anxious.


Like something new is calling my name.

I’ve been in Florida for about two-and-a-half years. Is it time for my next adventure?

What about M. He may not belong on this new journey.

What excites me is I could go anywhere.

Milwaukee? I fell in love with the city last October when I went for a work training.

Seattle? I’d be near family and I feel like I need to be back in a city.

What about Denver? Dare a return? I said I never would but there are two job openings there.

I could hop over to Tampa, still be near my grandparents and still get my city fix.

I’m feeling lost. In a good way. But it’s been taxing on my mind therefor making me exhausted.

I felt ill about it at M’s last night. I even broke a wine glass, my favorite wine glass, at his house.

I asked if he’d play with my hair while I fell asleep on his couch before 10 p.m.

He doesn’t know any of this.

What I do know is I can’t stay in a small city working at a small paper forever,

Should I go now before roots get too deep?

I’d leave behind a lot of good friends and amazing memories. But I’m at peace with that.

I feel like the universe is making big changes in my life. I don’t quite understand the changes and where they will take me. But at this point I’m open to almost anything.

I have to urge to purge all my pointless belongings. Tighten up what I want and need and move forward.

I’m doing my best to give up my anxiety about the situation and let God take me where he wants me to go.

Any advice?

Thanks for listening to me blab.

Pounding on a keyboard lets me process life.

Hope you all are well.

Hello … It’s me.

Hello …

It’s me.

I’ve been MIA for months, again.

I’m leaving for Colorado in a week and I’ll be there for two weeks.

If that means nothing to you then you’ve got some reading (my entire blog) to do.

But here’s a brief version:

I grew up in Colorado, got married when I was 25 and nine months later I found out my husband (we call him Fuck Face) was having an emotional affair with a girl from work. I moved out the next day, made him pay for the divorce and three months later I moved to Florida. I didn’t know a single person except for my grandparents who live two hours away.

That was two and a half years ago.

It was the hardest but best thing that every happened to me.

I’ve been back to Colorado once, it was emotional, diffacult and amazing.

I’m going back again and this time I’m bringing my boyfriend of 9 months.

I’m the maid of honor in my best friend’s wedding (which is an issue in itself.)

I’m really excited to visit but there’s a lot of pressure to show M (boyfriend) what an amazing place Colorado is. There’s pressure on him meeting my dad (though he’s met most of my family already) and best friend. There’s pressure to show my old life that I’m thriving in my new life and there’s pressure to relax and enjoy it, something I’m really not good at.

So that wedding thing … a year ago when she asked me to be MOH I was dredding the job. She was my MOH and the whole situation reminded me that my marriage failed. I don’t want to remember my wedding so I had a really hard time wanting to be such a big part of hers.

It’s taken some time and self reflection to realize that I need to be a good friend and be there for her.

I hesitated bringing M but my mom said he would make the experience so much better.

I hope she’s right. He’s pretty excited to join me. We get a few days to ourselves to hike and drink good beer.

The wedding should be … interesting.

A few of her girlfriends don’t exacly love me. And one girl is married to Fuck Face’s brother’s best friend. (keeping up?)

Anyways …

Life is good. Work is good. M and I are happy. I’ve joined a new bootcamp-style gym and have gotten in pretty good shape, you know, to make sure I look fly in that MOH dress.

I need to blog more, I hold my emotions in until I break down about once a month. M is learning to deal with that “quirk” as good as he can.

He told me I was the love of his life last week.

I didn’t know what to say. I love him more and very differently than any other man I’ve loved (OK boys, and there were two.)

His age makes a difference. We are 17 years apart. Though I really never notice. He certainly doesn’t look his age.

We have our issues as any couple does. And at least once a week I’m convinced he’s going to leave like Fuck Face did.

Every day is a challenge. But every day is also a gift.

Let’s talk again soon (I hope)


More random photos


To everything there is a season

I just donated my wedding dress to House of Hope.

It was a lot harder than I thought.

I drove away with anxiety and sadness and realizing that was the last little piece I had of my wedding, my marriage and a life I left behind (not by choice).

Last weekend I cleaned out my room and stumbled upon my wedding albums. For the first time I felt OK trashing them. I took one last look, tore out a page of photos with my family sans Fuck Face then threw the albums into the trash pile.

I pulled my dress out of my closet, opened the garment bag, smoked a bowl, played my wedding song and just looked at it.

I had to force myself to feel.

I’ve been really good at not feeling.

It’s been two years since I moved to Florida. Which means just over two years since my marriage fell apart.

I’d say I’m doing pretty well.

I have a great job.

I’m in love (more on that in a minute).

And I have really, really good friends.

Lucky for me, they all came to my rescue two weeks ago when I took a knee to the head during the championship game in a volleyball tournament.

I got knocked out for a few seconds and ended up with a concussion and TMJ after spending two hours at the ER.

We lost the game — which totally sucks more.

OK for that love thing…. don’t yell at me.

M and I are back together. We had some stuff to work through.

I had to come clean about my panicking when he told me he loved me. My more panicking and pushing him away when he talked about moving in together.

I had to admit I got really drunk right after our breakup and made out with JC.

(Things with JC are now totally fucked).

He had to admit what he did was really fucked up.

We are doing really well. And minus the week we spent apart (where we both realized how heartbroken we were) we will have been together six months in mid May.

And you guys, I’m actually opening up!

Back to the dress and wedding albums… I have to admit, when I took the albums to the dumpster, I looked through our engagement photos one more time. I pulled one out and saved it. I was so young, Fuck Face was so young, and you could tell how madly in love we were in that photo.

That’s the memory I want to keep.

Before the bullshit. Before the lying, cheating and money issues. Before the M.S. and layoffs at my job.

Before we grew apart.

I put the photo in my memory box and put the box back under my bed.

When things come crashing down — again.

Three weeks ago, M told me he loved me.

Yesterday, I dumped him.

Here’s the story:

Thursday after kickball (M and I met in a kickball league but were on different teams) M and I went out with all of our friends, had a great night then went to my place. Drinks were involved, as they always seemed to be.

He was in the bathroom getting ready for bed. I was drunkenly looking for my phone. I took his phone to call mine which I figured was in my car. When I walked inside something came over me and I snooped. I found a text to a woman. Well, lots of innocent texts to a lot of women. Except for one.

M told this women she should stop by his house on her drive south and he would give her a full body rub.

My heart sank.

He opened the front door, I shoved his phone into his chest.

He then flipped out, told me to call him when I become more secure and said “not every man is your ex-husband.”

He walked out the door and refused to talk to me FOR TWO DAYS.

Friday night I needed my friends to get me drunk and distract me. And they did.

Saturday he finally called after I called and texted (stupid girl.)

We talked, he said I had nothing to worry about. He admitted he took it too far. He got on my case for snooping, then said something silly to make me laugh.

He told me to get ready then wined and dined me recreating our first date.

Three days of extreme anxiety went by, and I’ll give him credit, he texted more and gave more backrubs.

But it was too late.

Monday night I pounded a bottle of wine with JC (no, sadly not Jesus Christ.)

He’s a good friend. His wife left him over the summer. He moved into my apartment complex. When I first moved to Florida I lived with his ex-wife’s brother.

Keeping up?

Anyway, JC let me talk and cry — and get drunk. He ended up comforting me as I was in the fetal position on his couch. And yes, we may have gotten a little too close.

Come Wednesday, I couldn’t take it anymore. And M knew it. He pulled down our photo from his Facebook profile.

I called him, he ignored. I texted, he was a dick.

I finally sucked it up and said

“I see you took down our photo. Should we rip the band-aid off and call it quits?”

He said, “Sounds good to me.”

And that was it.

I was sad and hurt. But also relieved.

It sucks that someone who just told me he loved me, was making plans for me to move in when my lease is up in August, who sold his fast car for a truck to buy a boat because I wanted one, could just be done.

But he’s 44 and now I know there is a reason he is single.

I’m starting to wonder if I will ever find someone who’s in it for the long run.



All is fair in love and kickball 

Hey guys, long time no talk. 

Seriously, like months.

A few of you have reached out to see what I’m up to and I love you guys for that ❤️

As I write this I’m in a car, riding shotgun next to M. 

He’s got his hand on my leg as we make our way to Tampa.

He planned a weekend getaway including a hotel on the bay.

I think I just blushed. 

Let’s go back.

I haven’t written anything in a few months. I was in a funk of horrible dates, weight gain and a crazy work schedule. I felt like my blog was only bringing me down, reminding me of Fuck Face and all the things I was trying to move on from. 

So I took a break from blogging and from dating. I joined a kickball team, started playing volleyball three nights a week and made a lot of new friends. 

After weeks of torment and horrible self talk (this little voice likes to remind me that nobody is thinking about me, nobody gives a shit about me), I finally became OK with being single and not dating. 

As the kickball season ended, I went out to the bar with my team and my new friend Karen. 

Enter M.

He walked up, very tall and handsome, looked right at me and said, “what shot are we taking?”

I was speechless. So bold of him, I glanced at Karen who gave me an encouraging nod and said “Fireball.”

He returned for fireball shots for my whole table and sat right next to me. 

An hour later I was ready to leave and walked out with my friends. He left at the same time, too. We spent another hour chatting in the parking lot. 

We had sushi the next night and have been attached at the hip ever since. 

He’s very tall, athletic and 17 years  older than I am.

I never really notice the age difference, my parents and friends are very supportive and for the first time in my life I feel like someone wants to and enjoys taking care of me. 

It’s been two months. There’s no telling where this will go. But for now we really enjoy each others’ company and in the end, that’s what’s important. 

I miss all of you, I can’t wait to catch up ❤️