I know I have to leave my bed at some point.

I can’t continue to stay and wallow in “what if’s” or dwell on what I feel I lost.

I know I have to move on.

I just have to move, period.

But it feels like the second my feet touch the ground, I’ll be immersed in reality.

And I’ll have to start the work of accepting it, this reality I don’t want.

It seems like so much work, much more energy than I feel I have.

And I also have this internal struggle that doesn’t want to move on or let go.

I can be stubborn.

My bed has become an escape, a place where I can temporarily suspend the gravity of real life.

And real life has been calling.

I don’t want to answer.

But time moves on and so does everyone else.

So I gather all the strength I have left to pull back my covers and swing my legs over the edge.

I linger there for a bit, staring at the ground.

Maybe if I stare long enough, it will go away.

It doesn’t.

It’s still there.

So I remind myself of everything I’ve already survived.

I’ve survived a lot.

I remind myself that I’m strong and resilient.

That I am capable of dealing with this and I will be okay.

I’ll be more than okay.

And my life is so much fuller than just this current heartache.

But first I have to get off the bed.

So I slowly extend my legs down, my feet hovering just an inch above the ground.

I take a deep breath.

Before I can give myself time to rethink it, I step down and I’m standing.

And now I’m walking away.


A Thank You

I have a select group of people (and one animal) who help me move and keep moving, either directly or indirectly. I’d like to introduce them and express my gratitude for them here:


He’s my dog. The most adorable pug ever. I call him things like “baba”, “smushy face”, “cutie”, and “handsome”. He doesn’t talk much. And the only words he understands are “outside”, “sit”, “leave it” and a handful of others. But he’s always here. Full of unconditional love and kisses. He keeps me company and licks me when I cry. What more can I ask for?



She’s my girl. I have her back and she has mine. We are both incredibly loyal, which is why we get along so well. Whenever I need company or a distraction, I can count on her. I love her and her family. She’s supportive and extroverted, bringing me out of my shell just when I need to. She’s a nice breath of fresh air.



He is truly Mr. Perfect. At first I dubbed him Mr. Right but I was wrong. We make better friends than anything. And he is the perfect friend for me. Historically I have a difficult time making and keeping male friends. Mostly because they eventually want or need something from me. He neither wants nor needs anything from me. So I am completely comfortable with him, trusting him with all my thoughts, no matter how messy or twisted they are. He is always responsive and validating. Always. We are personality twins. I get him, he gets me. We crack each other up to no end. He’s the only person I know who can make me belly laugh when all I want to do is curl up into a little ball on the floor and sob. He makes me believe the male species is not all evil. I love him dearly.



She is the queen bee. I fucking love this woman. She is fiercely protective and wise beyond her years. She will not hesitate to take a bat to anyone that hurts me. Which is funny because she’s so petite and quite possibly the gentlest person I know. In much the same way, I’m protective of her. We are more alike than not. She is incredibly validating and empowering for me. And I will forever be grateful to have her in my life because she’s helped me through some of the hardest times of my life. She helps keep me on track without judgment. I know what true unconditional love is from a friend because of her.


My Conceited Crusade crew-

I have never met them. We were all strangers to each other 3 months ago. But we’ve built this odd group friendship/camaraderie since then and now I feel like I can tell them anything and they don’t even flinch. I know this to be true because I have told them an embarrassingly fuckload of personal information that my own family isn’t even privileged in knowing. And it’s awesome to collaborate with like minded creative geniuses. 😉

Special shout out to Babe-

I know she is probably like “what the fuck, me?” But it’s true. I find her to be wise and full of life lessons I am just starting to learn. She doesn’t know it, but I value her input and appreciate her insights.


My WordPress kindred-

I feel like I have another life online. One filled with random strangers who offer support and connection through shared experiences. To my consistently faithful readers (including Tony and unbolt, you both are awesome!), fellow women survivors of life, and members of the newly founded fucked up hearts club of which I am president, thank you for your words which have touched me in some way or another.


*There is one more person I would have added to this list. He was and still is very special. But I can’t. Not right now. Because he’s the reason I have to fight to get back to me at the moment. He’s the one I fell in love with and broke my heart. But maybe, someday, far, far, far in the future, I can count him as just a friend again. Maybe. Only time can tell. But he knows who he is.



About samlobos

I am an avid fan of creating narratives in my head about random experiences and quotes for future books I will probably not write. I harbor a 15 year old girl in my psyche and like to solve world issues when I'm half asleep. View all posts by samlobos

17 responses to “Moving

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