This Novel Life

"Live the life you dream." -Henry David Thoreau

Category: Uncategorized

A Bad Year

She is tragically romantic,

I can’t get you out of my head.

Thriving on what if and what could be,

My life is incomplete without you.

Begging her phone for a text,

It was you all along.

She binges on romance and fantasy,

You give me a reason to breathe.

Wishing on shooting stars and romantic comedies,

I will love you until the end of time.

She lives in her dreams,

I love you.

He will forever be her always.



I cried for all the moments that were robbed from me, for all the peace and serenity on summer nights. I cried for the words I wouldn’t hear, the whispers that were no longer mine and mine alone. I cried for the loss, for the pain in my chest and the sorrow in my heart and all of the looks we would never share again.

I blamed myself for all the words I never said, the times I held my breath. I searched for an answer and found only questions and so I cried for the naivety of believing things could last forever.

I mourned the defeat, for it was both my greatest mistake and your greatest achievement, to finally break the heart of a girl who dreamt of tragedy and welcomed sorrow…


I remember the way you looked

When you loved me the loudest,

Driving up the coast in your Chevy.

The smell of the ocean

Wafting through open windows

The sun shining down on laughter

The music drowning out reality.

We lost ourselves in the city

Hidden among the cobblestone road.

That day became just a memory,

The kind we soak up on rainy days

Hungry for a glimmer of sun and surf,

And magic in a normal world.









She sits in the shadows of my soul

A deadly reminder that one shove is all it takes

A haunting momentum to push harder and be better

Escape the ghosts that trap her there

I see her in the quiet confines of the past

Pulling at my present like strings on a marionette

She laughs as if to say you’ll get there one day.

She sits in the shadows of my soul

Reminding me of the person that I could be

Provoking me with raspy words and foggy moments

Condemning me to the darkest places in my mind

Where she is a prominent and forceful deity

Luring me in with the carelessness I try not to crave

Taunting me with dreams I never wish I had.


To The Parents I Never Had

I know it isn’t your fault you’re not here. Decisions made as teenagers that brought you to the places you exist now are the reason I don’t have the Hallmark memories I so desperately crave. But all the student debt and psychology classes in the world haven’t helped me forgive you. There are moments I wanted as a child, Dad teaching me how to drive or Mom snapping photos on prom night. When the holidays roll around, I scrape together scattered and fading childhood memories to create a single good, wholesome moment, and for a second it is there – the family I always needed.

There are substantial moments in my life when I needed you and the pain comes most heavily in being an adult and understanding that my fundamental flaws stem from the moments you both so selfishly deprived me of.

When I turned sixteen and got my first job, nobody was there to deter me from blowing my paychecks on acrylic nails and Cheetos. I didn’t have a father to try and stop me from dating the first boy who so destructively broke my young heart, or a mother to pour over college applications with me. There was nobody there to cry to when I got engaged, and nobody for my future husband to ask for permission to pop that question. There was no mother to plan a wedding with, no father to walk me down the aisle. Nobody to teach me about credit or careers, and nobody to hold me and tell me everything would work out when I saw my first positive pregnancy test. But these moments pale in comparison to the fact you weren’t there to teach me how to survive the soul crushing emotional damage caused when I lost you.

It’s a scene on repeat in my mind, even now, years later, haunting me in a way that can eclipse even the brightest of sunny days. You aren’t here to walk me through the maze that is life, helping me handle being an adult without a parent to turn to when my days are long and hard. I’ve spent years pretending that you are out there somewhere, but the truth hits like a ton of bricks when I pick up the phone and there is no number to dial.

On my worst days, Christmas, Thanksgiving and the moments in between, I beg the stars for you, for a message or a sign that you had hopes and dreams for the daughter you couldn’t put first. I wonder if you looked at your precious baby girl the way I do mine and constructed a life of happiness and laughter for her. I question if, in your last moments or hours of reality, if there were regrets in leaving someone who relied so heavily on guidance she would never receive.

I wonder if the day will come and you’ll be there, on the other end of the line, to call me home for a turkey dinner and a night of reminiscing in front of the fire place. But you’re not there and it won’t happen, so I stumble through life with a heavy heart and memories created from a fantasy.

13. It’s A Good Night For A Meltdown

My life is great, honestly. I have a wonderful husband, smart daughter, beautiful home, pets that I love and I really have nothing to complain about. I get homesick for Maine and I can book a flight back for the weekend. I don’t worry about my car breaking down or the bills not getting paid. I don’t have a job I hate or a big deep seeded secret eating me alive. 

But I am constantly bringing myself down and pushing myself towards toil. I try very hard to be as close to perfect as possible, with a few exceptions. The worst thing I can imagine is that someone would see some ridiculous flaw and label me a huge mistake as a wife or parent. Mostly as a parent, if I’m going to be honest here. I can’t be that person that got pregnant young, can’t handle anything and has made a total mess of her life.

It’s probably because my mother was such a train wreck. She had no moral compass and was drunk or high at almost every school event I had. She cried in front of my friend’s parents. She dressed awful and her hair was always more orange than blonde. She looked like she crawled out of a trailer park sewage drain. So I spent almost all of my childhood covering for her and having to be ten times more presentable just to offset how bad she behaved and looked. We don’t speak now, we hardly spoke then, we just fought. My daughter will never know her.

So here I am, trying so hard to be my best and dealing with personal issues that make me want to push my life into disaster just because I don’t think I deserve it enough. I do, I know that, but try to tell me that tomorrow and I bet I will tell you that you’re crazy.

I don’t even know why I’m talking about this. To get it off my chest? I wish I could see all the rewards I have in my life for trying so hard to be a good mom and a good wife. Instead I just see everything else. Everything I haven’t achieved and all the mistakes I have made. One day, maybe, I’ll outgrow it. Maybe I’ll wake up tomorrow and appreciate myself better. Maybe I’m just having a hard time accepting the fact that Monday I’ll be 23. Maybe not.

12. Maine, Maine, Maine.

First of all, sorry for the slight hiatus! I spent some time in Maine last week visiting friends and family, and of course, I spent a few moments at the beach with my camera. I would’ve liked to have more time, but I had a jam packed schedule. Maine, now, is a weird place for me. It was home for my entire life, but since our “home” moved to Florida, going back gives me an eerie emptiness that I can’t explain. Aside from friends and family, Maine just seems like a closed chapter in my life and going back is like reading back a chapter, there’s nothing new there for me. I’m sure, because our plan is to go back to New England, that sometime in the future it will hold new stories for me, but I can’t see that from where I am now.

Excuse the bad logo, I’m still trying to figure out Lightroom! I took all these photos on Scarborough Beach in Scarborough, Maine, and if you’re curious to learn more about the beach you can find some information here