Dear Diary,
I have been sitting on the computer for hours, scrolling through Facebook and noticing how happy people seem to be in their photos. With every update on their lives, it seems like the world is revolving around me. I was left in 2015, to my own reflection when I get out of bed. If this is what loneliness feels like, then I won the Powerball. Why am I typing this out now? Because I am tired. I am so drained, even though I did nothing today. Is this what loneliness feels like?






I did the laundry 1000 times to wash out your scent.

I thought Downy would do the trick.

Little did I know that infatuation hid under the sleeve,

I’m guilty of this, just look at the debris.


I’m guilty of this inability to jump into new tides

Fearful of going under yet again

Here I thought I learned how to swim.

Here I thought I learned how to live.

Little did I know that infatuation tickled my feet like ocean weeds.

I’m scared of stepping into all the debris.




I see you, failure.

You don’t even lurk in the shadows anymore.

You’re walking among humans, presenting yourself as a dear friend.



I see you, failure.

And I respectfully welcome you into my humble abode.



You can tear off the wallpaper only to find a cracked wall underneath.

You can break the glass I used for the new year,

You can microwave the fine china I keep in the boxes.



You can turn every couch on its head,

then make your way to mine.

I’ll give you a hug and tell you that you’re alright,

I know what it’s like to be misunderstood.

First Page

My hands glided across his chest as he breathed “yes” with heavy sighs pacing me. It was orchestrated, and the trusted metronome kept me focused. I will create music as I strum every nerve ending. It was a sensory overload – a crescendo crashing around the corner. I’ve memorized this routine, and I’m comfortable performing on this stage.

Alice paused and rested her journal on her chest, left vacant without her notice. Did he wake up already? She was so immersed in writing that she didn’t even notice the goosebumps dancing on her left arm. The doorknob shook and Alice quickly closed her eyes. She could sense the door closing and his arms enveloping her waist.

“I know you’re awake, Alice,” he whispered.

She couldn’t hold back her grin. It escaped her like a new sentence on the second page of her Moleskine. She ran her short nails across his forearms. Eyes closed, but I opened up a new chamber in my heart for you. His muscular arms protectively embraced Alice’s petite waist.  She recalled a moment from their first date because every other mental image blurred. He picked her up spontaneously and led her away from the bedroom. “You shall not pass,” he teased and nuzzled her nose. When they fell asleep on the same bed for the first time, she couldn’t help but notice his little chin jerks and nose movements. His body occasionally shifted at odd intervals, and she followed along with his heartbeat. It seemed like with every shared exhalation, they intercepted each other’s dreams.

Alice quickly opened her eyes and scribbled in her notebook before the thought jumped over the moon. He was mumbling in his sleep. The atmosphere was lulling Alice to sleep. “You shall not pass,” Alice whispered as she let his warmth pull her into deep sleep.



The door slammed. Travel bags were packed and ready to go. His hand angrily pressed at the bag as she tried to push him off. “We’re done. You didn’t make me laugh. You didn’t make me smile. We’re done.” He yelled out profanities as though he discovered them in a gold mine. “You didn’t do anything.” He grasped her arm. It was ruthless. He pushed her away from the door. “You’re not going. I need you. Stay, and give me a second chance.”

Alice’s eyes opened to see the ceiling above her. She turned slightly to the left and saw him sleeping. His right leg shuddered and he released his arm from her waist to turn over. She turned over her pillow and felt it coolly hold her check. She tried to pick up on his heartbeat again, but the mysticism of their connection passed through both of them at the same second and ran off to find a new pair. Now they were just two bodies.

“I thought you’d be different,” he murmured.

“What?” Alice asked leaning closer.

“I thought we’d fall asleep together.”

“I can’t sleep in a bed that is not my own.”

“You can’t sleep at all. I know, Alice.”

Alice jumped from the bed.

“You’re a failure of a human being.”

Alice rubbed her eyes and reached for her journal. She turned on a night light and quickly grabbed her pen.

Day 20. 

Restless. Slight pain on the right side of my head. Heartbeat matching. He is calm in REM so why can’t I fall asleep? I tried to align my breathing pattern. Did not work. I tried to match his heartbeat as you suggested, Doctor.

Alice tapped on her tattoo and deeply inhaled. The vessel opened up a hologram with several people. She selected ‘Alex.’ Vibrant wave-forms lulled her back into sleep.

Woke Up

I have yet to embrace the company of my inner fears,

Yet to envelop my thoughts,

It hasn’t been my priority mail.


I have not enjoyed solitude. I find myself under the covers wishing to be tucked in. I turn the pillow in the middle of the night to sleep on the dry side, because the other half absorbed every paranoid worry.

“Everyone hates me and feels too bad to let me know.”


“I will fail this class because I don’t even understand what’s happening.”

Rest your head on a pillow that you haven’t cried into, and you might wake up with clearer perspectives.

I remember my happiest morning vividly. I dreamed about my future solo travel in Argentina. As I left that realm and the sun jabbed at my eyes, the dream version of me was looking at a sunrise with a friendly stranger. In reality, the rays of the sun were like an annoying child’s fingers grabbing at my face through the window. I was happy and calm that morning, so I let the childish sun have its fun. I was having my fun too after all. I got up, set the kettle on the stove and dressed for class. As I shimmied through the apartment, the kettle began to compete with the sun as it whistled for my attention. I hurried back and made some coffee, or milk and sugar with some coffee.

I do not remember the rest of the day but that morning, I embraced solitude. I didn’t feel lonely. All my senses were intact and I prepared my smile for society.

“You’ll be fine.”

Rest your head on a fresh pillow that smells like Downy and optimism.

Tip Jar

It is nearly midnight. It is November 24, 2015. I am grateful for many things today:

  • The bed I left this morning, for peacefully accepting my absence.
  • The coffee I made this morning, for calming my nerves before a day of more social interactions.
  • Professor Birnbaum’s morning enthusiasm for furthering my interest in marketing and for being a caring educator.
  • Annusha, for being a close friend who I can rely on.
  • My co-workers and supervisor Michael, for ensuring a good day in an office environment.
  • Davendra, for being a close friend who is patient with my Mom-like moments.
  • Professor Macias, for being a calm professor who motivates me to work harder and create a dynamic radio piece that could catapult me into the radio industry.
  • Xander, for caring enough to ask me how I feel today.
  • The nearly full moon for illuminating the night sky, with a cloudy backdrop as though someone used Photoshop to design it.
  • My mother, always.
  • The steps I took to get to campus, because it means I am physically capable of taking advantage of my education.
  • The smiles I gave to people, because it made me wonder if I could smile for myself and not just give hopeful smiles for others.
  • The hat I wore, given to me by someone I hold dear to my heart regardless of his presence in my life.
  • Erick, for caring.


If you can’t think of anything, or anyone, to be grateful about, add this:

  • Someone cares about you today, and will care about you tomorrow.