It's not your fault if they can't love you.

"Blessings! Blessings on you, one and all! I blessed the trees, the birds, the dogs, the cats, I blessed the flowers, the pomegranates, the thorny cactus, I blessed men and women everywhere, no matter on which side of the fence they happen to be. This is how I like to begin each day."

-Henry Miller

Wild lilac and lovely lupin and driving to the point where the signs finally say we are there, yet and Big Sur is here and where Bibles are printed in neon jackets with members only scratched out on the horizon because my mom always told me growing up that God doesn't care what you wear to church because he sees you naked in the shower. The last time I dipped my toes into the crystal ocean, I gave forgiveness a big hug and told it how sorry I was and let my new polka dot bikini be my blessing shouting out to God that I love Him and I listen to gangster rap because it makes me feel anointed and I cry often when I am alone because it is when I feel most affectionate with words and it is overwhelming to know exactly how you will die without knowing any gypsies to fool you into thinking otherwise. I will tell you this: I may never know how to let you love me, but I will share my pizza with you, and I will always ask you what you want, and I will always keep trying to figure out how to spell my name in stars so you will always look up and know you don't need loneliness and I will always want to hug you so big that your last heartbreak forgives itself and I will love you so much that God may be proud of me and I will thank him for teaching me that it is blessings all of it blessings and i will thank them each for their contribution to my spectacular formation of loving and i will raise my hands to the sky to thank the boys who loved me because I am sure now that I want to love you if you will let me. They asked me between stories about the Holocaust and being 21 if I was going to marry you and I felt overwhelmed by sadness and swordfish. Irregularly aware of why people make harsh divorces I just don't know if I am your one, but I am one at least, at least one year of knowing you were important and you only sometimes telling me otherwise. With words, I am better if written. With words, I am clumsy. With you, I am sure, sometimes. I look out the window after fish and hear my favorite song buzzing through the wrong voice and I see you glowing at me from the tip of the airplane's wing and I am lost in eternity with you, I am dancing naked alone with you, I am reading Harry Potter for the first time with you, I am drinking an entire bottle of Simply Orange: No pulp with added calcium because of you, I am crying on my birthday with my ex boyfriend because of you, I am delicately arranged silverware at a grandmother's birthday table with you, I am everybody's least favorite Beatle because of you. I am happening in outer space to the rhythm of something dirty and patient somehow. I am loving you even if I am the only one because at the end of the earth, I will be unending like God's love, like hard days, like sky fall, like breathing, like miracle, like all the good things etched in a kitten card in poor handwriting. I will be there in the earth unending loving the way you say the name you've given me.

I feel good about the way it sounds to exhale.