standing on a ledge.

It's midnight and my mind is playing tricks on me. Shadows are moving and I can still hear the faint gunshots that ring in my mothers ear. Is it bad that there are still moments where I wish that my heart would just stop?

No, I'm not writing my suicide note.

Yes, I love my life.

But there are days that I think, instead of one finger, it would have been easier for her to take my whole hand. The hand that represents that beating mass in my chest.

What did I really expect, though? Did I expect it to be easy to fall for someone else? Just like that? With a snap of my fingers? Which would be impossible to do anyway if she had taken my whole hand. Talking is supposed to make things easier, correct?

Wrong again, sir.

Talking just helps her understand what she's getting herself into with me. I wonder if, as each conversation ends, she wishes more and more that she had

RUN ...

in the opposite direction when she met me. I never told her it would be easy and I never claimed to be unbroken or that my past (which clearly effects my future) wasn't complicated. I'm a complicated human being. You'd need more than an extensive anatomy class or manual to figure me out. I know and understand that these things take time.

Take an egg and crack it ...

Ok, bad choice of words.

I'm fragile but I'm not scrambled eggs yet.

Better yet, take a rock and hit it against the pavement. Watch it break apart little by little. Watch as each time you do it, it gets smaller and weaker and easier to break. The pavement has done a lot of damage so far. Even the rain can transform me over time. I'm not saying that a drop of water will ruin me but I've seen a downpour or two in my life thusfar. I just want to lay my head down, reach the pillow beneath meand hide under the covers. Just for a day or two. While I let it sit in that I just confessed everything to her in one phone call about my personal pavement, my downpour, my lost finger.

Let it sink in one more moment and ...

Why do I do this to them?

Why did I do that to her?

Another night of shadows and burrying in my pillow.

Hold my breath and ...

JUMP!

airplanes could be shooting stars.

Start your book of fiction and tell me you don't love me.

Tell me that you never did.

That you never will.

Do I think about you? No, never. I couldn't even if I tried. Because the thought is pain enough to know that your airplane is farther in the sky than I can reach or even see to wish upon. Keep her close and remember the nights that I made you ...

feel alive.

So many questions yet so little time. I'm trying to open the clock to turn it back just a moment to see your smile one more time but I know that's in the past. That will never be my turn again. Am I hurt over that fact? I'm not sure. And I think it's better that way. I'd rather never know the answers to how your future lovers will touch you or hold you and just guess in my mind than hear your laughs and see your smiles for myself. I don't want to see you happy. Is that so wrong?

Correction!

I don't want to see you happy.

I don't want to see you happy with someone other than me.

But at the same time I do. I want what's best for you. I've moved on so why can't you? So why am I standing underneath the moon, the same moon we talked about so fondly together, begging it to bring us back to that secret place. Under the stars, in the woods, in front of a fire in my back yard, you laying in my lap, on a hill where we shared a first kiss, laughing at a picnic, close together in my bed while my cat walked all over us.

Maybe this makes no sense. Maybe I'm sending signals to the moon. Maybe I'm whispering in midst of a war. Maybe we can't make wishes on hunks of metal. Maybe that's why this isn't working. Or maybe it's because I was the one who walked away. Because, as usual, I wasn't ready. For the better? For the worse? I have no idea and I'm not going to try to figure it out because it just makes my chest tighten and my heart weak.

So let's just pretend

for one moment

that we can make wishes

out of airplanes.

Like shooting stars?

chewed gum and the alphabet

NOTICE: All of my previous posts have been nonfiction. All about me and my life and my emotions and blah blah blah. So! I've decided to mix it up and throw in some fiction. This is a letter from a man to his wife who went missing. He's been searching for her for years and refuses to move on and remarry the girl he has been seeing for the past 4 years, in hopes of one day finding his wife. It's about love that is undying and worth a fight. Pretty much. Yep, that's the gist. Hope you enjoy! If not, I'll understand.

Your footprints were left on my carpet, driveway, and heart. Dance in the darkness with my hands to the sky, smokey rooms coating my lungs. All I can picture is your hips in my hands, swaying with me. Tapping on the door of my heart like I'd answer. Even if I tried. The music is too loud to hear you breathing by the window.

KNOCK LOUDER!

I'm all out of synonyms for tonight. She'll be the one scratching down my back, exploring my mouth, my chest, my body. She'll have me entwined in the same sheets you used to dance under. The same bed we shared, the same pillows to support our minds.

Your breath will leave steam on the bedroom window and the heart you drew there will remind me tomorrow morning that you used to be her. That you still have my heart. And my favorite t-shirt. You tried giving it back but somehow I figured you'd need it more than me. I'll be pretty impossible for the rest of my days and you never seemed to be intimidated by that. You took my fingers, palms, arms, torso, legs, toes, mind and heart apart and studied each one like you were getting ready for a pop quiz. You'd be the only one to pass.

Cars go by. Girls come and go. Yet, every morning I wake up to a new heart on my window. My bedroom window is all filled up. Same with all of the ones in the kitchen. Last night you migrated to the living room. How many can you spare? I got used to your hearts being a tradition of my mornings, a reminder throughout the days, and a heartbreak at night when she's in my arms and I can all too easily feel your eyes, see your tears, and hear your hearts beating, getting ready to break the glass, vibrating my walls.

I don't think she knows.

Unless she's good at keeping secrets ...

or just plain doesn't care.

How can I keep this up? She's bound to hear you one night, see you, feel how my touch is getting bored, notice my wandering eyes. They'll land on your eyes, those vibrant blue eyes. And my heart. She'll feel it skip and imagine it's for her. Your touch, your kiss. I have to take breaths in between to remind myself it's not a dream. It's too much to deny.

I'll lay here, provide her with a body pillow, a kiss on the cheek, a touch below her hips, in between her legs. And when she cums, my eyes will be closed and my heart will be yearning and praying for her to one day be you. I'll just stay in slow motion, waiting for our chance, waiting for our nights filled with movement and moments and passion and love and something more. That same something more that you never cease to provide even when you're not in sight.

Until then, I'll just continue to wish

upon

stars

and eyelashes

and count the clouds that dare to pass.

when I see your smile.

Everyone who knows me knows about my love for body art. People’s tastes in tattoo design has always fascinated me. Everything from beautifully ornate recreations of their mother’s High School yearbook photo to a cup of coffee and a donut (seriously, I’ve seen it). Far be it from me to tell somebody I think their tattoo is dumb (to their face, at least), but I think there are some pretty hard-and-fast rules about choosing a design for your next tattoo.

First, what I consider to be good reasons for getting a tattoo.

Memories

Tributes

Passions

Now, for the bad reasons.

Your Favorite ‘Vice’ (yes, I'm talking about all you guys who have the logo of their favorite beer on your chest)

“I just really like the design” (aka No Reason at All)

Every tattoo that has been needled and inked to my body has a memory, tribute or passion linked to it.

{In no specific order}

   #1

This was my very first tattoo. I got it in 2007 with Jess Lightcap. I got this tattoo because when I was younger, I used to have a dream where my mom and I had just gotten home from the store and it was dark out and, walking to the front door, I always saw these red eyes coming out of the sunflower garden we used to have. I would run to the door but every time a wolf would jump out and I would wake up before the dream went any further. I had this dream three or four times a year since I was about 6 years old. Wolves very quickly became one of my biggest fears because of this dream. But, when I was about 14 years old, I stayed up one night doodling and I ended up drawing this little guy. That same night I had the dream again. Although, this time, I let it finish. The wolf jumped out, I ducked, and he landed right next to me. When I opened the door to the house, there was a little cot on the floor and I remember feeling sick and dizzy. I held onto the wolf's head and he lead me to the cot, helped my lay down, and ended up staying by the feet. When I woke up, I looked at the end of my bed and half expected him to still be there, waiting for me to wake up. Ever since that dream, every other dream that had a wolf in it was never a threatening dream. Anytime I was in trouble in a dream, a wolf would appear and protect me. Hence why I now consider wolves my guardian angels. I want to get something done to it to make it look better someday but I'm not sure what yet. Possibly a night sky behind it with big whispy clouds and a nice full moon and hundreds of little stars.

                                                                 #2

I got this tattoo in 2008 for my ex, Jess Lightcap. It's Hindi and says "Jessica Always and Forever". I knew that even if something happened between us and we ended up going our seperate ways (which we have done), she would always and forever be in my heart and be my best friend and I would always and forever love her. I do NOT regret this tattoo and never will and, no, I don't appreciate when it gets made fun of. So, please do yourself a favor and just stop. It hurts a lot more than you could imagine when someone picks at a tattoo, especially this one. It's a fragile topic, so it's a fragile tattoo. Be nice, assholes. I want to get the New York skyline behind it with the roots of the city dangling down below to make it less plain. I chose New York because that's where she lives. Or maybe I'll get something with birds because that's her favorite animal. It's up in the air.

                                                        #3

Another tattoo that I got in 2008. It was a symbol for me of holding myself together. Cassie Leach went with me when I got this one done and made fun of all of my rediculous faces. I'm pretty sure she even got some pretty embarrassing photos as well. The thread needs to be shaded yet and I still want to get the other side done.

                                                         #4

I got this tattoo done when I went with my ex, Cassie Leach to England in 2009. I got this for her. Yes, another girl and another tattoo. But when someone leaves footprints on your heart and your heart just happens to be as delicate as mine, it needs a reminder. Another tattoo that I will never regret so save your breath if you don't have anything nice to say. It says "Take my hand and we'll fly to the moon." It was a lyric from a band that her and I discovered together (Talain Rayne). We visited the moon quite often. She came with me to get it but didn't know what I was getting until we got there.


    #5 & #6

~ 2009 ~

My baby sisters names. Need I say more? <3

-Edited in 2010-

                                                      #7 & #8

Another 2009 tattoo. I have the wings on both arms and I got them for a very special gentleman. This time it was Kortney Hails and Adam Vargo who came with me to get this.

I love you, Daniel Troller.

Rest In Peace <3

                                                #9

Another tattoo that I got in England when I was with Cassie. While I was overseas, one of my dearest friends Jenn Casper passed away at the young age of 19. She was in a car accident and ended up in a coma for a few weeks and finally left us for good. She was one of those girls who always had a smile plastered to her face, someone who was truly a happy human being. Someone who did not deserve that fate. So I got the words "Like it's your last" for her. Live every moment like it's your absolute last. Laugh like it's your last, love like it's your last, hug like it's your last, kiss like it's your last. Everything comes down to the fact that we are all just held together with the threads of skin and muscle and blood and veins. It could all be torn apart in seconds. Live like it's your last.

#10

I got this tattoo with Jess. Another one that connects us. She got the same one so that when I stand in front of her, they connect. I wanted to get it for two different reasons. I wanted to first get it because I wanted to have inked proof that we fit as perfectly as a puzzle piece at one point in our lives. And the different sides are the four different ways that we fit. Each has it's own meaning and I don't feel like getting into it right now because this is the first time I'm even telling ANYONE about that reason. The second reason is because I wanted a puzzle piece to represent who I am in the world. One piece to the puzzle kind of deal.

all of my notices ...

... seem to have something to do with her.

NOTICE TO READERS: I just wanted to make sure that everyone was aware that my previous post was not meant to be sexual or meant to be "relationship-like". It's purely friendship. Jess and I have "been there, done that" and I highly doubt that it would ever be possible (even if we wanted to) for anything to happen between us like that again. I just miss her friendship, I miss her strength and who she was for me. I know my posts can get confusing at times and I'm sorry but, like I said when I started this blog:

"I'm going to be honest, not everyone who reads this will always like it. I'm tired of feeding the same old horse crap. I want this to be real. I want this to be honest. So, if you find something in here you don't like ... suck it up."

PS, I don't mean "suck it up" in a rude way. I'm just a sarcastic human being at times.