I'm not okay...

Are you?

This is ending, I know it is. Maybe I'm crazy for believing in my feelings. Maybe you think we are fine, that nothing is wrong.

Its okay to not see my breaking heart. I don't expect you to open the cavern of my chest to peek at the muscles and ribs. I don't expect you to notice. That sounds childish, sounds stupid, sounds like I'm seeking your attention. Your approval.

I don't need your goddamn approval though. I need you. I needed you. I won't in the future.

I don't need your love, or lack thereof; I don't need you anymore. I wanted you. I wanted something from you that I have to find in myself. I think. I don't know.

I'm not good at being myself. You seem annoyed by that. I can't apologize for that, because I am not an apology. I am imperfectly myself. Whoever that is.

I used to whisper your name, because I liked the feel of it in my mouth. The way my tongue caressed the letters and the whimper of my voice. Now I won't give myself that. Not because it is wrong to love your name, to love you or who I have thought you to be, but because I can't keep doing this to myself.

I am not okay.

Maybe I never was to begin with. Maybe I never will be. 45 second intervals are all I have to relax. All I have to hold myself in place.

I fucking loved you. That is not to say you should love me back. You are under NO obligation to do so. None. I'm not angry that I loved you and received no inklings on your end. This isn't just about one-sided loves.

Its about how you disappear off the face of my earth and casually come back to remind me that you are the sunlight in the caverns of my chest. Its about how you disappear and leave me wandering in the snow, begging for just a glimpse of sunshine. Its about how you leave me behind and then deign to give me a small catch up.

I have tried desperately to hang on. You leave me dangling, like a worm at the end of a hook; knowing I'll still be there when you decide to come back.

I don't care if you love me. I don't care if you want to be with me. I wish I could erase those dreams, desires, wishes, tortures; from my neural pathways. I am Icarus thrown from the sky by the Sun he so longed to worship. You were the sun blossoming against the horizon of my cavernous chest, slowly brightening my skies inside of me. You were rising and then suddenly your light fell from the sky, colliding with the wormholes and the voids of the universe; swallowed up by Chronos' gaping maw.

And maybe that's a problem with me. That I latched onto your small offerings of light like a starving child on bread. Your voice in my ears was like hearing for the first time and I loved you like the created love their creator.

Maybe I was obsessed. Maybe I shouldn't have dreamed about you like I did. Maybe there are many things I should or shouldn't have done.

Would it hurt less if I let you go now? Would all of my questions, my longing, my dying whispers, fade if I just told you goodbye?

I can't let your name enter my mouth. It tastes so sweet, but it is as bitter as poison.

I just wish you'd tell me the truth. More of the truth than you have. You don't lie to me, but you aren't honest either. You leave portions of the truth out when you speak to me now. What happened? What changed from last year when we talked as if there was nothing else to do but talk?

Have you already let me go?

Dear Governor Pence,

Dear Governor Pence,

Perhaps you don't realize this, so I thought I would let you know, but being an American is not about hate or only one religion.

America was founded on Religious Freedom, yes. But freedom for ALL religions. Not just Christianity.

The pledge of Allegiance says "with Liberty and Justice for ALL."

The Constitution says "We hold these truths to be self-evident that ALL men are created equal."

From the beginning America was supposed to be a place of freedom. A place of equality.

However, this bill is NOT about Freedom. It is about government approved discrimination, racism, bigotry, etc. and a way to bypass almost any law. I don't know if you know this, but the RFRA is NOT working for the benefit of ALL in the other states that have it as law.

How can you deny hard-working Americans their RIGHTS simply because they live differently than you?

Would this bill be going through if it had been presented by a Muslim person who wanted to deny entry to Christians or Jews? Will it change if that happens? Will it be considered religious persecution in that scenario?

The world is NOT all White, Straight, Cisgender, Christian, Men.

It is made up of ALL types of people!

You have not only made me ashamed to be called a Hoosier, but ashamed to call myself an American.

Sincerely,
Sarai.

Today.

I'm not writing this for you so much as I am writing this TO you. I doubt you'll ever read this or know that I am shamelessly quoting you currently.

Today has been short, so far.

I'm listening to "Autobahn" by Anberlin. I don't know that you would like it, though it makes me think of you. The simple idea of just driving, dreaming, etc.

I miss you. Miss you more than I have any right to.

I want to steal the title of the last blog you posted, yet I'm afraid it will catch your eye.

You told me once that I didn't know you. I think I know you a bit better than you care for me to. Or maybe that is simply my imagination.

Either way, I think it is unfair that you let me in so far and then not only do you bar the way, but you push me as far back as you can... I'm sitting on the outskirts, wondering what happened?

I am the person who believes it is my fault. I have always felt that it was my own fault if I were left behind. I did something wrong. I'm trying hard not to be that person.

I'm trying hard to not be that person.

Funny thing was that I came here to post about my novel and your last blog post (on a blog you probably only vaguely remember that you have) popped up first in my newsfeed. This wouldn't seem so odd except that I had just found a note you had written me in a notebook from 2005, the year we met.

And all the warm feelings I have for you came flooding back. Not that they ever really went away. If it is possible to have constant feelings for someone it would be for you.

Now I am listening to "Gooey" by Glass Animals... You mentioned British groups. I think you would like them.

I suppose finding that note and then seeing your posts were just meant for me today. I was meant to see them.

Its disconcerting for me, you know. All of these strong feelings and random actions. Random words that make me wonder if you ever really cared or if I was merely a person in a long deluge of people in your wonderland. Truly, your mind is a wonderland I would like to visit sometime.

I over think.
I over speak.
I am far too opinionated and many other things.

I feel like I should make myself smaller when I think about you. Like Alice, shrinking to get through the keyhole. Except, as much as I want you to see me, I'm afraid you don't like me because of what you see. Whether it is my face or my opinions or my writing.

You told me once that I needed to chill.

You told me once that you loved me.

These are things that I hold close when I try not to think about you or how we haven't spoken in months. And how much that really bothers me.

My texts to you have become little diary entries in a long line of silence.

I am rambling.

I never realized how much you write like your favorite author. I loved him before, but now I love him even more. Does that make me crazy?

A review of "Cousin Vinny" Agnello.

Dear Louis Anthony "Cousin Vinny" Agnello (or "10 reasons I asked if there was another way out of Barnes & Noble"),

1. I am not public property able to be touched because I'm in your space. Just because we are inhabiting the same area does not make me less than human or give you the right to just touch when you feel like it. Did I give you permission?

2. Bragging about your Stripping days in the same breath as you're bragging about how wonderful your book is does not make me want to read it. Especially when you keep saying you are a "messenger" (the "from God" being implied by your "I have some spirituality in me" comments).

3. You don't even KNOW ME, so how can you "guarantee" that YOUR book is going to be my "favorite book?"

4. You're trying really hard to get me to buy your book, but I feel like you're really just trying to explain to me why your penis is the biggest the world has ever seen. And I'm sorry, but I'm just not buying it.

5. Memorizing your laminated accolades doesn't make you seem cool, it makes you seem pathetic.

6. I am half tempted to read your book simply to give it a bad review. Seriously, you tell me how the writing is "the best" and that your story is "the most original" (fun fact: You're not original) and that the copies you are trying to hock are going to be "collector's items" because you are leaving that particular publisher, but I read a sample while I listened to you ramble and your writing style is similar to a 13 year old's. Seriously, I've seen better writing styles in Children's books. You write like you talk. Not very well.

7. You're visiting small towns in the Bible belt, of course this book is going to "sell like hot cakes."

8. Don't talk to me like I'm an idiot. You play like you're the "Devil" just for a scenario, but you're in my face telling me I'm worthless. The difference, as I told you, is that I KNOW I'm NOT worthless. My worth is more than reading your book though. Seriously, how could you possibly think that would make me want to read it? Pretending that you are the Devil and that this book is going to save me from Suicide and save my soul... Dude, you don't even know my Soul!

9. "The Devil's Glove" is a terrible name. It sounds worse than cliched. And trust me, I've read some pretty cliched books. (Usually in the genre you are in)

10. "Are you big readers?" Nope. I walked into Barnes & Noble because I like the scenery. Never read a book in my life.

I could go on and on, really. This was the worst meeting with an author I've ever had. And I didn't want to meet you in the first place! Thanks for telling me all about your schedule though, because I now know to avoid B&N until Friday when you leave for St. Louis.

Sincerely,
Sarai.

Post Script: Don't laugh at me because I said "Joe Pesci does not endear me to your book." I was being quite serious. Going by his character name really doesn't make you more likable.

Coming Out.

Dear Friends and Family,
I'm going to say this as politely as I can.
I am an Atheist. I am Bisexual. I am a Liberal. And I am perfectly happy being who I am. So, please, don't post on my page about God, about hating the President, about how people who love each other shouldn't be allowed to get married just because they are gay or anything else like that.
I don't want to be "saved." I was, once. And you know what? I was miserable. I've never been more unhappy then when I was a "Christian."
Any comments or posts pertaining to the above will be deleted. And if you don't like how I live my life, then you are also free to delete me.
I'm not going to hide who I am or try to change I who I am because other people are "uncomfortable" with how I live MY life.
Its taken a LONG time to say this, but I am Proud of who I am. I think I've turned out pretty well considering the life I've had. And I'm not going to be ashamed of ME anymore.
love,
Sarai.