Dry Drunk In Love

I am a dry drunk in love.

Have you ever known a dry drunk? You know the alcoholic who is in recovery and yet still acts like an addict? Well, that’s me… I am in love and still acting like a wounded insecure girl. Damn men, we fall, they hurt us, we move on.. get therapy… feel like we are ready to do this again. Stronger, wiser, we know ourselves better. Then out of the blue we fall back into those “dry drunk” habits. The insecurity creeps in, we make up stories of unfaithfulness in our minds, we doubt how fucking awesome we actually are. Well, that’s me right now. I have met the most wonderful man, and I am doing everything in my power to talk myself out of it.

At first, I decided that a long distance relationship wouldn’t work for me. I was leaving him at the airport for our first goodbye, and cried so much, you would have thought my mother had died… again. It was so embarrassing that I actually wore my sunglasses in the airport and on the plane. Ironically, I have always judged people who wear their sunglasses indoors. I will never do this again- they are probably crying like a baby, leaving the love of their life and don’t know when the next time they will see them. Next, I decided to talk myself out of it because I am not sure if he is still dating other women. I know, I know I said he is the love of my life, and he is… I am just waiting for him to say the same thing to me in return. Just to be clear, I haven’t told him I love him, that’s just between you and I. Finally, every time we text, I tell myself, was he short with me? Am I annoying him? Why would he want me?

Dear God!!!!!!!!! What the fuck is wrong with me? Can you relate? I know I am a catch! I believe in myself. I am a strong woman, who kicks ass and takes names… yet when it comes to love… I am an insecure little bitch. Today it stops. If he doesn’t recognize I am amazing, that is on him. I can’t make him fall in love with me. He either will or he won’t. As my wise friend Tammy keeps reminding me, in every relationship you have two choices… it will work, or it won’t. So why do I keep expecting for every guy to be the guy? Why can’t I just enjoy the damn ride and embrace getting to know someone wonderful? Can you relate to anything I’ve just shared? Feel free to comment below.

Peace Out,

Momchelle

You’ll Remember Me

You’ll remember me in the little things she does.
Like flipping her hair back in a flirty way making you smile just because.

You’ll remember me, when you stare into her beautiful eyes.
Confused for a moment, realizing they are blue instead of green like mine.

You’ll remember me when she stops to call your name. Her voice is sweet, a different octave, yet just simply not the same.

You’ll remember me when her lips lightly tease you with a kiss. A place where only my lips have been able to love and caress.

You’ll remember me in the quiet of the night.
Reaching for her body sleepily realizing the fit just isn’t quite right.

You’ll remember everything until my memory begins to fade.
That’s when you know your finally over the love that we once had made.

First Call

Usually We are dreading the tender giving his last call. Today We are waiting for it to be late enough to buy the alcohol.
Empty soul staring at slowly ticking clock. Circling the bar like a kid riding around the neighborhood block.
No beer to be served to wash away our pain. Waisting time like a beach day flooded with rain.
12:30 the bartender promises, the drinks will be in our hands. Living in the Bible Belt is challenging... its life in the Christian southern lands.
The clock strikes on the half hour, and bottles begin to clank. Liquor starts flowing and our dollars leave the bank.
Day drinking at its best we will be drinking buddies forever. Bonded by beer and waiting on time a relationship that cannot be severed.

Your Song

Soundtrack

Beginnings and endings, my head swirls with our memories.

The soundtrack of our friendship reminding me, with their melodies.

Oh the canvas can do miracles, but can it heal a broken heart?

How deep is your love? It’s me you need to show, now that we are apart.

The song says will you love me tomorrow, but I’m still wondering about today.

A lifetime without your friendship is deafening, please tell me that we can still find a way.

Broken hearts can always mend, if we are willing to swallow our pride.

I’ve lost my whole life and a dear friend, but damn, it was one hell of a ride.

Will you will see me tonight in hindsight, lost in your Wildest Dreams?

Because lets face it, we will never go out of Style, or so it use to seem.

The song says will you love me tomorrow, but I’m still wondering about today.

A lifetime without your friendship is deafening, please tell me that we can find a way.

Summer breeze teases my mind and I begin to feel the warmth of the Sun’s rays.

Then the winter comes and I hear you say, Sad eyes you knew there'd come a day.

So I have these broken wings, to match my broken heart.

I only wish you weren’t my friend, its the end and we are apart.

The song says will you love me tomorrow, but I’m still wondering about today.

A moment without your friendship is deafening, please tell me that we can find a way.

Help me find a way.

But Why “Momchelle”?

I know the burning question you are asking yourself right now, Self, what is up with “Momchelle”? Ok maybe you didn’t ask that questions, but I am going to explain it anyway.

I don’t love being called Mommy. Don’t get me wrong, when my kids were little bitty and they crawled into my lap and said I love you Mommy, my heart melted. Then they got older and taller than me (only 5’2, it’s not hard to be taller than me) and I started to really dislike the name Mommy.

I had a therapist tell me once, as I referenced my dad as Daddy (at the age of 22), “How will he ever start treating you like an adult, if you still talk to him like you are a baby”. It stuck with me. And at the ripe age of 13 and 11, I instructed my kids to stop calling me Mommy. It didn’t go well. They did not like the change, and I get it, who wants to grow up and leave the nest? But it is my job to teach them how to fly and fly they shall!

So, my oldest who has always been my greatest challenge and blessing, decided she would call me Momchelle. I hated it. I begged her to stop, I could not stand the way it sounded. I was also going through a divorce at the time and was struggling with my identity. Maybe not the best time to give up the “Mommy” title. Or maybe it was. Because I will tell you, it changed me. Of course because I hated Momchelle, my daughter clung to it tighter. And thus, I was rebranded — Momchelle. It has become my thing. My new identity when I needed it most.

Almost everyone (that knows me through my daughters) calls me Momchelle. It was loved so much, that we gave the other moms in my circle names too. One is JillBob, one is Mother, one is Melon, one is Momlinda, and one is Barbie. My circle is amazing.

Also, I am not just Momchelle. My youngest daughter, who makes a point to be as opposite of her big sister as often as possible, came up with her own name for me: Jimmy Sprinkles. I love this name. I love this kid.

4:31

There is nothing else that we can do, I heard the doctor say.

It was the second of November, a cool autumn day.

I made the appropriate phone calls, giving last chances to say goodbye.

Every minute ticking by faster, knowing soon that she would die.

I felt this strange energy, somewhere between excited and terrified.

It had been such a long journey, so many tears we all had cried.

Emotionally exhausted, and completely wired physically.

Praying that her peace would come, ever so quickly.

The earth angles entered her room, quietly preparing for her descent.

Gently washing her body and taking her off of the vent.

I remember praying to My Father, please don’t make her wait too long.

She had been through enough hell, hadn't she proved that she was strong.

I sat there by her side, holding tightly to her hand.

Trusting in My Fathers word, trying hard to understand.

Anger quickly crept over me, as the minutes slowly passed away.

Dear God I’ve done all you've asked of me, please show her to the stairway.

Suddenly she came to me, not in words, but through her spirt.

The mood isn't quite right, and I need you to set it.

So I quietly picked a song, How Great Thou Art to Thee.

As it began to finish, she quietly began to leave.

Suddenly she returned to me, not quite ready to quit the race

Another song perhaps, I said, Then I played Amazing Grace.

As the last verse played, she took her last breath, and flew bravely towards the Son.

God had designed it out perfectly, bringing her home at 4:31

• My mother died at 4:31 on a Sunday. This is significant because I was born at 4:31 on Sunday.

Winter Man

Winter man you are cold and sharp.

Grey and lonely, needing warmth for your heart.

Layers of ice and snow have collected.

Protecting you from the pain that people have inflicted.

Your frigid words are your weapon, you use them as a blade.

Hurting anyone in their path, leaving them tattered and afraid.

When things get to heated you pull away to protect the frost.

Leaving those who love you the most, crying over what they have lost.

The cold can be lonely, however it makes you feel protected.

Spring is around the corner though, and the Sun wont be rejected. 

She will breeze in and begin to thaw all of the ice that still remains. 

Gently nudging you to let go, of all of your hurt and your pain. 

Your layers slowly melt away, dripping on the ground.

Creating water for the spring flowers that soon will be found.

They will grow towards the sun wanting to bask in her rays.

Without your water there would have been, no way for the flowers to stay.

Winter man it is time for you, to let go and  embrace the warmth of the spring.

Allow yourself to stand in the sun and enjoy all the happiness she can bring.

The Spring girl will love you and together you'll bask in the sun’s warm beams.

Together you'll create a beautiful garden and a life you’d only imagined in your dreams.

New Day

Your Callous words are a sharp reminder of my haunted painful past.
A past That I thought I escaped but now it’s facing me and I want to run.
Drunken words repeating again and again unable to stop like a Runaway train.
I’m drowning in post traumatic memories, Trying to find peace at last.

I thought you would keep me safe and now I am struggling to breathe.
You’ve snapped. I don’t Recognize the man in front of me and I’m petrified.
You said we weren’t compatible, words pouring acid on my heart.
I thought you were my forever but now it looks like you might leave.

I unintentionally disrespected your wishes, never meaning to hurt you.
They are my girls, my world and I’m used to being an island.
I struggle with control, because I grew up in a tornado.
Learning to share the burden won’t come easy, I’m a wounded soldier and that task is new.

Calming breaths I shall take to easy my broken heart.
My body begins to soften, I am able to focus again.
I will pray that the sobering dawn will help us see the light.
After all tomorrow is a new day, and I pray that we won’t fall apart.