I don’t usually sleep much on a full moon, but this time was different. So many dreams! I only remember a couple.

The dream where your teeth fall out. I had an extremely elaborate version of that. It boggles my mind that my dream made them feel so weak. Like they could be knocked out by the lightest touch. And then it’s permanent irreparable damage. Or at least it seems that way. The faux-physical feeling though. That’s the craziest part. Your brain trying relentlessly to convince you that this time, unlike all the others, is the truth.

The other one was just crying. I don’t remember many details. Just lots of sobbing. Grief-based. At nighttime. While hugging someone I couldn’t see.

It’s a full moon in Sagittarius. So you’d think the dreams would be, I don’t know, a little more gregarious. But here we are. Sobbing in dreams and trying to crawl back onto the internet while also being freaked out by it.

notes on fading a little

I went dark on social media. Because things were feeling overwhelming and I wanted peace. Stayed off for the span of a Mercury retrograde. Now that is over.

But I have to be honest. I haven’t gone back on yet. I don’t think I want to.

Everything is just… a lot. Still. I thought going offline would bring some sort of relaxed exhale, but it just clarified the parts of my brain and heart that hurt. The clarity is nice — just not exactly blissful.

Good things did happen. A lot of them did, actually. Dating certainly did not slow down. My play is going to a festival this summer. And I got back to therapy yesterday!

Because it turns out, you don’t have to do this alone. People want to help you. And that already feels so much better.

eclipse after a birthday

I’ve been learning about myself. That’s all I ever seem to do.

The sky rumbles and planets crash into each other and you think, is this really going to affect me this time? And then you’re awake at 3 AM in a panic over how invisible you are. But you’re not.

I get lost in my own head. A personality test revealed this even though it is so obvious. I get lost but it doesn’t feel lost. It feels like reality. That’s the danger of it.

So many stories to tell you, sweet one. It was my birthday and I didn’t tell anyone. Bought myself a cake and threw most of it in the trash (sorry).

When your tendency is to lose yourself in your own thinking, a solution is to make contact with other people. This can feel awkward and anxiety-inducing in its own right. And that’s ironic. But it’s still what you should do.

So on Friday I did that. My friend is a songwriter and he was having a show. He hadn’t performed in 3 years. So I thought yes, I will go to this and pretend to be the cool girl whose friend is the lead singer. Even though the idea gives me nervous stomach.

Sometimes you step out of what’s comfortable and everything feels weird. Other times you do that and you find a seat, the venue is cozy, and your friend plays music that hits the exact soothing spot you needed. Then you hug him after the show and he asks if he looked nervous.

I’m so good at telling myself stories that sometimes I paralyze myself.

vulnerability hangover

Okay but what was the point of that. Why did we open our hearts up and why did I cry and why did we journal about each other if none of that changes anything.

This is my stubborn contradiction. I crave closeness. Emotion. Connection. Then I get it but sometimes it feels suffocating. I float out of myself and ask “why did you do that? was there a reason to open up those old wounds?”

We broke up three years ago and I knew I was over him. We are still in touch. He mails me postcards but I look at them with a kind of detached fondness, oh that’s nice. But last night I was typing on my phone, bearing more of myself than maybe he deserved to see. Tears pouring because something had been newly reopened and for what purpose. Healing? Is that what this is?

At what point are we just picking at things for the sake of feeling something? What’s the difference between “doing the work” and just plain hurting yourself?

“I’ve changed so much.” he said.

“You have and you haven’t.” I replied.

it’ll feel so good when you jump in

Veil thins and teal dye tempts.

Remind the world that you’re a mermaid.


The tease of dreaminess. 

Lose yourself but be careful.


On dates with her, adventure tends to bubble.

The coffeeshop is closed but we sneak in anyway.

There’s an event.

They give us free drinks

As if we signed up for any of this.


Or we’re in a bar that doubles as an old-world wax museum.

She takes pictures of me but the backgrounds are grotesque.

The bartender apologizes for something and she compliments his apron.

He blurts out that we’re both sexy.

I laugh but mostly I just feel dizzy.


I get anxious over lonely nightmares and dreams coming true.

I’m not always sure what my dreams even are.


A tidal wave of iridescent bliss hits my imagination

And I worry that I’ll miss it

Or not take correct advantage of it.


The mermaid sees the wave and dives into it.

Without fear, without thought

Just warm water and sunlight

Moving her body as it was always meant to move

Pleasure without overthink.


If you let yourself get swept up

You will not drown

As long as you remember to breathe.

tender and she throbs

After I fell, I hid the bruise underneath my dress.

Didn’t want to be a bother. Didn’t want to ruin anyone’s time.

She began as faint blue speckles. I thought maybe that would be all of it.

But she grew and her color deepened. Darkened into a violet-black galaxy. She stretched herself across the entire right side of my leg. I found her beautiful but I think she scared people. So I wore leggings.

She is tender and she throbs. Apparently blood can move down from the original injury to places that weren’t even hurt, and make them bruise too. The way the body expresses pain. Color like paint and then healing.

A reminder of just how sweetly, achingly soft you are. But also that you are able to stand after chaos. Somehow.

vacation hell

One night I couldn’t take anymore so I confided in you about him. He was not worth it but he was driving me crazy and I’d been holding onto that fact for so long it was consuming me. I let it go. I cried in front of you, and you hugged me. It all felt so much lighter.

“He’s probably going to come after you too.” I whispered tearfully.

“Nope. No. I really don’t like this guy.”

Cut to two days later.

You come into our room and need to tell me. Last night on the beach he told you he liked you and asked to kiss you. You’d said no.

“Are you going to do anything?” I ask while the bottom of my stomach gives out.

“No. Probably not.”

“What’s the likelihood that you’ll do something.”


That same morning I am in the ocean with a friend who tells me to get over it. You never even dated him, why are you so sad. The wound is still raw and fresh. I cry in front of him, in that beautiful blue water, for the first time in 12+ years we’ve known each other. He acts like he’s seen a ghost.

Cut to a day later. Last night of the trip.

I have processed the giant wave of feelings that hit me. I am lighter. Whatever you’re going to do together, it is going to happen and that is fine. It’s not like I need to look at it.

Or so I think.

I am talking to a friend and you burst into our room. You are drunk off your ass but fire is in your eyes and you hold my stare. Your lipstick is smeared all over your face from kissing him. You want me to see it.

“What the hell was that?” the friend asks.

I do not talk to you or hug you goodbye. I do not have friends that do this. Thank you for making it so obvious that you’re a monster. Have a nice life.