Love is a son of a bitch...

Is it wrong of me to believe in love? Am I fooling myself in believing that there is a chance for me to find that one guy who loves me as much as I love him? Is that possible?

I had a vision a few weeks ago. I was held by a man and all I could see was his unshaven chin as he kissed my forehead. He was taller than me, my head barely passed his shoulders. He was thin, with dark hair, young, around my age, sweet, and when he kissed me, he meant it. I imagined his dark eyes smiling back at me when I looked up, and I knew he was it. He was the person that I am supposed to meet.

One day.

I'll be honest. I've given up. Like, I have full-on thrown in the towel and I am done. Maybe it's because I saw who I wanted. Maybe it's because I know who I am supposed to be with. I will know it when I see him.

Or maybe it's that I am jaded that the last guy I dated broke up with me through text. A fucking text?! Yes. A text.What the hell kind of chicken shit person does that? Then it took him four days of me coaxing him to finally get him to call me. Fuck that. Fuck him.

It's because of that text that I am over dating. It was like the straw that broke the camel's back. Done. Fuck that. I am far too rad to have THAT kind of shit in my life.

Of course, me being either pathetic or relentlessly forgiving, let the "text break-up" slide and as much as I wanted to call him a piece of shit (which, he is, because that was a piece of shit move) I didn't. Though I have moments when I still feel the urge.

Anyway, it's things like that that make me wonder, why the hell do I even want to bother again? So, say I meet this daydream dude...is he going to be a text breaker-upper too? Will he be a douche like all the others? Is there such a thing as a real man who loves a real woman? Do I even want to go there?

My instinct is no. No I don't want to go there again. In fact, if "dream dude" showed up at my door, I'd probably blow him off. Not that I am bitter, but shit, bro, I am exhausted! I used to always have something inside me that made me do it again, but now, now I don't even want to go there.

So despite these feelings of forfeit, why do I still believe in it? Why do I think some sweet, kind, funny, attractive surfer dude who plays the guitar is going to run into me and fall in love? How the hell is that even going to happen? I live in Chico for God's sake. Another depressing thought. The thought of dating in this town makes me want to kick puppies and strangle small children. Eff that ish.

Anyway, I am not even sure why I am writing this. Maybe it's in hopes that if I say that kind of love and man exists, maybe it will manifest and come to me. And the thing is, I don't even know if I want it, but I think I'd like to know it exists...just to say that I believed in something real. That I believed in a thing called love...

The trees are gone and so are you.

The trees are gone and so are you.

While their departure was brutal and unforgiving, their lives cut down limb by limb, our departure was long, heartbreaking and bittersweet.

I guess I knew I would never see the trees again, though I had always hoped I'd see you at least one more time.

I guess we are the trees now.

There was so much hope and potential, a lifetime still, but a foolish decision, one made out of fear and selfishness, brought us down.

You brought us down.

And though I tried to do all I could to save us, tie myself to us, cry to save us, nothing, in the end, would.

At some point someone makes a decision to make the cut, and once it's done, there is nothing left but aching stumps and broken hearts.

Real-life dreams are horrifying.

Sometimes the best time to follow your dreams is when you don't have anything left. When you have run out of money and time and hope...when you don't have anything left but that dream, sometimes that's the best time to just fucking do it.

I don't have much in life. I have a small, close-knit group of friends and family members that don't understand me, but they try, and really, I guess that is all you can ask for, right? But sometimes you need a purpose. You need a reason to live. Some people have a career, or kids, or dogs or a relationship. I really don't have any of those things, so getting up in the morning had been hard for me for a while.

Then one day I thought it would be a great idea to take Christmas card photos with my cat. And that, that idea and that moment right there, that's what has brought me here. That's what gave me purpose. Hope. 

Such a life-altering word, "hope".

It sounds cheesy to say that. "Gave me purpose". Like I don't have amazing things going for me, which I do, but I don't. What am I contributing, you know? Then my good friend Trish gave me an idea....an idea that gave me what I needed most...hope. Maybe it was a small bit of "pipe dream" hope, but sometimes that's enough to get you through the day. And when you have that, sometimes you do whatever you can to make it happen.

So then there is Dani. A beautiful, creative, artistic and understanding designer. And she got me. The first night we met, there was something. It was meant to be. Kismet.

So I pitched her the idea, and she was on board in seconds.

But it wasn't that easy.

To accomplish any dream, sometimes you have to depend on others, and that is some scary shit. This is why I am single. I just can't deal with depending on someone else. And for a while I was scared that all my hope was put into this one project and so many factors could have easily derailed it.

Ruined it.

Crushed me.

And I was scared shitless that it was all going to fall apart around me. And that's a horrible feeling.

But I kept at it. I pushed and I kept it going and I emphasized that this was all I really had in the world of purpose. Then something happened. All my superstitious feelings and thoughts and worries started to disappear and Dani and I got closer to finishing one thing after another. It was little things like weekly meetings, or finally taking photos or filming. It was always something small that pushed us further from the beginning and closer to the end...closer to a point where we are now. No turning back.

And that is some scary shit too.

The reason for the delays on our first project was because we were depending on some other people to help, but without them believing in us and what we are doing, to them it's just a waste of time, and since they weren't getting paid, what did they care? But for me, it's about accomplishing something. It's about following my dream and seeing my ideas come to life. It's about putting myself out there and just saying, "Fuck it. This is for you because if you are like-minded, you'll get it and laugh and maybe get something from it."

And that is my purpose. To give.

Our ultimate project stems from some super shitty times I have had in the past 3 years. And from that it made me see something I didn't see before. It made me see the humor in even the shittest of times, even when it was hard to laugh. That is what this is all about...finding that laughter, finding that hope. And while at first none of this will make sense, trust us when we say, the final project is our main purpose for me as a writer, and Dani as a designer and anyone else who wants to join us. We believe in this and we believe in the talents of those we ask to join us. So when we come to you, it's because we know you are talented and could benefit.

Anyway, long story even longer, I'm saying all this because I don't know what's going to happen. It could flop, it could fly. It could be magnificent, it could be devastating. I don't know and I'm scared, but at the same time our ultimate project is worth it. It's worth putting out there to make someone smile. To get them through the day. To give them hope. And damnit, sometimes that's all you can ask for in a day. Hope.