The best teacher i've ever had

Greatest healer i will ever need.

My direction.

She became my only inspiration.

Loving Tara didn't just teach me how to grow

It gave me purpose, permitted my strength.

decreased my worries.

Tara has been the greatest addition on my numbers.

The last subtraction on my worries.

The first thought on a morning.

The last sweet dream on an afternoon nap.

Meeting my worst passed

enduring my troubling days

Then realise that it all led to her.

My underrated smile.

Overrated worry.

deepest thought.

Tara lyle.

"You'll understand once you're a mother" was no match for, "you're going to have a sister."

I was at the ripe age of nine when the words "P test" on my mom's shopping list made sense. "You'll be a sister".

I was nearing eleven when I first held my baby sister, all bald, bow stuck with vaseline... "we used to do this to you when you were younger", my parents would say.

Now seventeen years old, making my college decision, and I can't leave, not like I've wanted to do for so many years. A small Seven Year Old voice telling me to "please stay".

At seventeen years old, thinking back to fifteen, when she saved my life, and she didn't even know it.

To thirteen, when I sang her to sleep for the first time... "you make me happy when skies are grey" became the anthem of our shared bedroom and the key to my heart.

Back to nine, when I never would have guessed that I could feel a love that was not conditional.

And again, seventeen, excited to see the sweetest part of my life when I get home.

though it was difficult to hold onto at times, the thought that there would come someone who would be worth all of the waiting and failed relationships and heartaches, was always in the back of my mind. as a twenty two year old, i never imagined it would be someone who i met when i was fourteen. at the time, it was a small crush that i quickly got over when he went back to his city three hours away, after visiting for the summer. years passed, lovers came and went. and then suddenly he was here.

we became close friends first, i tried to ignore the feelings that i was developing for him, he sat clueless during our facetime calls every night. but despite my fighting of feelings and his oblivion, there was always something there. at first, we hide behind innocent flirting and sarcastic comments. we learned everything about each other's past and present and what we hoped would be our future. but then i realized, it was him.

the first one who was able to handle my attitude and mood swings. the first one who didn't think my clingy behavior and need for reassurance was annoying. the first one who didn't see my sarcastic comments were rude, in fact he would fire back with them. the first one who didn't expect anything sexual from me unless it was something i was comfortable with first. the first one who was supportive of everything i did and wanted to be. the first one who encouraged me when i was struggling. the first one to pray for me when i needed comfort. the first one i was sure was the one who was made for me.

because if not him, then who?

i was always too much or not enough for the one's who came before him. but he made it a point to assure me that i was everything to him. that i didn't need to change anything to fit his standards because who i was, was already enough.

and i believed him. because i felt it, the love he said he had for me. i felt it in the way his finger rubbed over my thumb when we held hands. i saw it in the way he looked at me. i heard it every time he spoke his assuring words. i had finally found my person. and i didn't ever want to let him go.

until i lost him. the timing wasn't in our favor. we had too much growing to do. we were in different places in life. and though it made my heart ache to part ways, i had no choice but to hang on to a sliver of hope that one day, our timing will be right.

“The big pan is NOT OUT IN THE YARD AGAIN.”

No response.

“TONY there are SLUGS ALL OVER IT.”

“Lol”

“Love me” he finally texts back.

To make my family their favorite chicken, I have to use ‘The Big Pan’.

This pan is loved and hated.

Loved by Mom because I can feed my family their favorite chicken with the use of this ridiculously large baking sheet.

Hated by Dad because he does a lot of the dishes and The Big Pan does not fit in the sink or the dishwasher, and needs to be soaked in order to scrub off the baked on bits.

So in the yard the pan quietly goes.

Out of sight, out of mind.

Until everyone wants favorite chicken again.

Then I am left to clean off not only baked on maple syrup and garlic salt but now a varying array of non-edibles that are just as attracted to the favorite chicken as my children are.

Slugs, spiders, bits of chicken poop left in exchange from a beloved free-range hen.

I say “don’t put the pan in the yard”.

I say “please just clean it this time”.

I say “Your example is teaching the children bad habits”.

But as we round the corner to our first wedding anniversary, I can't help but chuckle to myself as I wipe off the slugs and lovingly make everyone's favorite chicken in my favorite Big Pan.

...

MJ

Love wound through my chest, weaving itself through my ribs and around my lungs, squeezing tightly so each breath had to be pushed out and each step felt laborious. It ran through my veins, hot then icy cold, red with passion and just as vital to me as the blood it replaced. All of a sudden I couldn't remember a time when I wasn't in love. Drowning in it, choking on it, breathing it in and out, seeing it everywhere I looked, soaked in it. It was the background of everything I did. It replaced the car horns and street noise on my walk home, the sound of keyboards clicking and tapping at work, instrumentals in my music, chatter on the bus. It was everywhere, it was insidious.

But it wasn't good. It felt like panic. It felt like paranoia, like torture. I told myself love was anxiety, it was fear. Fear that I wasn't good enough, that at any moment he would decide he didn't need me around anymore, fear that he already had, but kept me around because it was fun to watch me break myself apart for him.

Love became knowing that he was using me but finding comfort in the fact that all I needed was a body to be loved by him, even if it was only for a couple of hours. Love became taking god that he texted me after weeks of silence, it became relief in the form of getting naked, it became silently begging him to look me in the eye, to recognize me as a human being, to say my name. Love became wondering if he even remembered my name. Love became wondering if he had ever even saved my number in his phone. Love became solace in a facetime call because at least then I could remind him that I was beautiful. Love became turning pick-up lines into genuine compliments in my mind because that was all I could get from him.

For four years love was turning myself inside out for him because I couldn't imagine waking up every day without him in my life. It was dreadful, it was terrifying, it was lonely. I don't think love is supposed to be lonely. And then, one Tuesday night in January, it became nothing at all. A hole in my chest that I wasn't responsible for but had to heal anyways.

I met you when we were kids, we quickly became friends oftentimes inseparable. Both of us were too young to know what love was. We played on the block together, always at one or the other house. As we grew up we grew apart briefly. There were times I missed our bond and friendship over the years. I needed our friendship, I was going through something horrible and felt all alone, and there you were like you knew at that moment I needed you.

You brought light to the end of my dark tunnel, you gave me a reason to believe, a reason to feel again. I loved you from childhood and I honestly never doubted that you felt the same for me. You didn't hide that we were feeling something. At 7 years old we promised to love each other forever, our parents laughed and said "just wait you will grow up." When I needed that love years later it was there, you were there.

In our teenage years, we were bound to each other, emotionally, physically, spiritually When I cried through heartbreak you held me, when I was angry you talked me down, you held my hand when I was scared. Our friendship grew into more than just friends, regardless of how much we denied what was happened to those watching around us, we knew deep down what was happening and what were feeling.

You were my everything for so long, even when were with other people. We gravitated back to each other. Being near you was simply amazing, you always soothed my soul. We always had each other's backs, you calmed my fears and gave me the world. The excitement, need, and love I felt for you can never be put into words.

Then the day came that I realized my fate, I saw the decision that had to be made. I had to walk away from the one person who meant everything to me. Your begging me to stay made my goodbye that much harder. Your life choices made it clear I had to get out. My future dreams were doomed with you. You loved me unconditionally, as I did you, but you took a path that was destined to end up in a bad place.

For years I fought the pain, the what if I was wrong questions. I cried myself to sleep for years because I longed for your touch, the feel of your skin, your scent, the look of passion in your eyes. You made it hard every time we bumped into each other, I wanted to come back, I wanted to touch you and hold you. I wanted to feel your arms around me and listen to your heartbeat as you held me. No one has ever loved me the way you did, and I have never loved anyone the way I loved you. You will always be my greatest love, forever in my heart.