This year had its ups and downs. It got really hard at times, and times when it was breathtaking. But just like every year passes, those moments become memories. It teaches you, betters you, strengthens you, and changes you. Next year is going to be even better. So cheers to saying yes to another 365 days of crazy. Thanks for following my crazy life.

Tomorrows’ Sunshine.

For the sake of memories. For the sake of being able to scream, and daily, confess the love for the blessings of being a mom.

For as long as I can remember, I wasn’t a celebrated child. I didn’t have birthday parties, every year, nor had one because I meant a lot to someone. I had a couple that i recall; for the sake of photos that’ll eventually find its way to my adopted father, elsewhere in the world. I wasn’t treasured, the way you treasure someone, with tangible memories like photographs, or letters, or daily blogs of confessions about how much they are loved and cared for.

I celebrated everyone’s birthday, sang for them, showed up for them, and made them feel special. But the birthdays that were mine can be counted in one hand for the times anyone cared enough to feel special. 

I wasn’t fussed over. I wasn’t valued. I wasn’t worth enough, for anyone to claim me. I wasn’t enough, for someone to ‘keep’ me. No one cried for me. No one hurt for me. No one would have given their life for me, the way you do when you love someone so much.

Because of this…

I am one of those individuals, who flood your Facebook news feed, instagram, twitter, and tumblr, of photographs, status’, notes, and shared articles about my children; about having children; about being a mom; about the struggle of being a parent; about the chaos of marriage, and everything in between. I AM THAT INDIVIDUAL, because I want to be able to look back at the memories I’ve built with my family. I want my children to be able to find these memories when they’ve grown, and one day they’ll wonder what, who, how, why, they are who they are. It isn’t merely for the sake of bombarding others, or attempting to show I’m better than anyone, or that my family values are better than yours. I do this for me. I do this for the legacy of my family . I do this so that my children will remember to value what is most important in our family, each other. I do this so that they remember what it means to fight for those you love, to always give heart, to always be humble, to find meaning in real life, and so much more.

One day my children will have questions. One day they’ll wonder about all sorts, one day these memories will become reminders, it may bring us together when time is distant, or when our minds have found heart elsewhere. It will rekindle deeper appreciation for one another when that is lost or forgotten, it may be a light that helps redefine relationships in each of our lives, maybe it’ll help recall values, or find comfort, bring smiles, provide happy tears, but one thing for certain, it will always bind us together, always and forever.

twentyseven, counts.

What I know now is that, people don’t last in relationships. Not in this lifetime, not in the next. I know that people choose to stay, but that sometimes break because, the heart only cares for so much, and so long. I know that love doesn’t always mean to stay, or to keep going. I know that love is sometimes, just for a season, a moment, a picture, a smile, a day, a reason, but never a lifetime.

When I was young, I had no idea what it meant to care for someone. I didn’t know what it meant to be a friend. I didn’t know what it meant to love someone. 

I took pride; like I knew what love was, in the things that mattered, just for the instances that they lasted. 

I watched time, people, things, pass. I’d sit by the bus stop and catch buses pass me, glances pass me, voices pass me. 

In this sadness dwell the purest definition of loss, of fear, of screams, of needing someone, of hoping for someone. Seasons have passed me, days have become years, and I stood the same, I felt the same, I cried about the same thing. 

I wanna tear myself up, scrape the sadness, scrape the insecurities, scrape the fears, take the sadness, and burn it. I wanna cry for the last time, and never again. Not for the sadness that dwell, ever again. 

Today, Yesterday, and maybe Tomorrow shall pass, and the day after, I wont feel so numb no more. 

As comfortable and romantic as it felt to walk alone, to see things, and find meaning; to ride on instances of wander, to wonder with no destination, I want no more of it. 

I wanna move on.

You don’t belong here anymore.

I was never yours. I don’t want you anymore.

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