Met a Cowboy….

He’s a southern gentleman with a harsh tongue and a contagious smile… Who happens to live among the serial rugged terrain of Wyoming….

I’m not sure what it is… there’s just something about a Cowboy… A little mystery always seems to accompany the old fashioned charm and makes a girl go weak in the knees. Maybe it’s the country slang that flows along his words… or the deepness in his eyes as they peer from under his hat… the broadness of his shoulders or the gentle of his touch… or maybe it’s the clang of his boots as they hit the ground…

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Have you ever found yourself running through the house trying to find something for your kids to wear in the morning? You stumble across the clothes that were in the dryer… that happened to make it to the basket… yet not quite to the closet.

“Here… put this on”

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This is the beginning…. Here we go…

Perfect T-Shirt

“If  I would have only seen this a long time ago I would have saved myself so much hurt and devastation”

The drawer was overflowing. It has been for awhile now and I constantly find myself pushing fabric down with my fingers as I’m trying to close it each night. Even though I don’t remember now what they were I know I was frustrated by the days events which didn’t help the situation any and while trying to open the drawer… it got stuck. How in the hell does a drawer get stuck when opening it? Closing it I understand… but opening it? The day had been filled with one to many breaking moments and dealing with a stuck drawer full of boyfriend’s t-shirts in a single woman’s house threw me over the edge.

Anger was building and as I sat on my knees in front of the drawer  just staring hopelessly as if at any given moment they would provide me with the answers to questions that so many of them brought forth. My head was swirling with thoughts and commotion and I soon found myself yanking them out one by one. Throwing them over my head and forming a pile of disarray on the other side of the room. All the while saying the name and being reminded of the original owner and the relationship that we had. Each shirt seemed to represent a failed opportunity at happiness. Why was I holding onto an overflowing drawer of breakdowns, defeat, inadequacies and loss?

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My heart hardened and bitterness filled my every being. I doubted that love even existed and that every dating experience was an evil plot against my vulnerability. My mind wondered to past relationships and I questioned them all over again. As if they had all attended a ‘how to break someone’s heart’ seminar and all this time I had been working with a bunch of professional men here. Why me? I questioned. What did I do so wrong that I deserved such dishonesty when my loyalty to him was never in question? I was at that infamous fork in the road. The point in which you have a choice to make… Left? Right? Or do I simply go back?

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My phone rang pulling up a number I didn’t recognize. I normally don’t answer such a call and figure that if its important enough the person will leave a voicemail but something prompted me to hit the answer button.

“My name is Samantha (Sam) and I know this might come as a shock to you so please don’t hang up on me until I am able to explain because he did the same thing to me.”

She paused just long enough for me to tell her she must have the wrong number.


My heart sank as I confirmed she had reached who she was looking for.

“I just spent the last two weeks in Kentucky where my best friend had a baby and when I came home I found all my things in a trash bag thrown in the back of his closet.”

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I am Cinderella…. Snow white… sleeping beauty….Belle…. and if you can come up with any other fairytale princess names… I’m her too. I am still the seven year old little girl that thinks fairytales are true… that kissing a frog might just be a good idea… that ‘soul mates’ is not just an imaginary concept… I am the grown woman who thinks ‘good endings’ are a must and magic is not just for the professionals.

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The first thing I noticed when I walked up to her was the fear in her eyes….the quiver in her voice… The unknowing blackness of nothing… and the longing to have answers… “What do I do now?”

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