“You can taste the dishonesty/it’s all over your breath as you pass it off so cavalier/ But even that’s a test/ Constantly aware of it all”

I had a good friend once say to me, “What would Beyonce do?” when I thought I was broken-hearted over someone I didn’t really know that well.

It’s a great thing to reflect on: What WOULD Beyonce do?

She would write bad ass music and drop a video album about it.

I’ve gone through a lot of changes since the year started. I’ve quit a band I sang with for two years and joined another, which required a lot more work to learn the show, but I’m really happy that I’m doing it. I teach kids yoga sometimes. I teach kids music, more so now than I ever have.

I’m happy, and I’m also sad, and I’m angry. I usually feel all three of these things very strongly throughout the course of a day.

My best friend goes MIA for weeks, and I don’t hear from her. And when I do, she’s not really all there. The boy I dated disappeared, and then there’s all kinds of messiness and unease around that. The boy I loved went away, and he’s trying to come back, but I don’t trust who he is now. I don’t know if I ever will trust him the way I used to. I used to feel safe, and certain. Now, when I think of him, I feel insecure and unworthy of what I want.

I don’t think a girl should feel that way about the person she wants to devote her time to.

I feel sad and drained when I think about these two particular people. I struggle with wanting to support and be there for them, and also losing my own energy in the process of being there. I lose myself when I invest in people who are so far gone.

I journal a lot.

It helps a little.

I listen to music and I do yoga and I take walks outside when it’s not 100 degrees.

I watch the sun rise, and I watch it set. Sleep is not something that comes easily to me, but it really hasn’t for years. I am often alone when I turn my attention to the sun.

That’s the thing I struggle with the most: loneliness.

Sometimes I feel like I’m drowning in it, and it’s cold and I’m stuck in a well and I can see that there’s light somewhere above me, but I want so badly for someone to help me up toward it. It’s hard to climb out of a well by yourself.

I know I’m not alone. And I know I’m not depressed. I don’t stay in bed all day at all ever. I make it a point to go outside. I make it a point to be around people. I like hearing people laugh. I like singing to people, whether I’m on stage, or in the kitchen at the back of my restaurant and I need a side of mayo to go with a customer’s burger.

I am very much alive, and I am oh so grateful for that. I am trying to find the beauty in the grief of loss. Loss of good relationships. Loss of relationships that once strengthened and healed me and held me up, pulled me up toward the sun.

There are other relationships. Other friendships. Other people that keep me going.

I refuse to run my decisions based on fear and loneliness, even though these are things I feel often lately. I had an old band mate once tell me that I can’t float, otherwise I’ll just attract other floaters: people who get distracted easily who can’t commit their energy toward one thing or person.

But I think perhaps it’s time for me to go back to floating for awhile: You can plant seeds where you want them more easily when you float. You can throw the seeds far enough away from where experience says the soil is dead.

I am running away for a week next month to go home and be with my family, and to go to a Kyle Cease convention in LA to hopefully find inspiration and hope”to move past my old stories and into a new vision of what is possible in my life.”

I am very much looking forward to it.

Until then, Beyonce, you have my full attention.



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