Tacos and Snugglefucks

November 26, 2016

Hear ye, hear ye all within the Kingdom of Sarahland.

A proclamation from the Queen.

Let it be known throughout the land that at about 3:30 pm on the day of our Lord November 24, 2016, I tripped in the feels real hard and fell the rest of the way.

I had my head on his chest and he was telling stories, I wasn’t prepared.

God dammit.

All I wanted was tacos and snugglefucks.

And now this…

All I ever wanted, all I ever needed
is here in my arms.

Always loved that lyric.

First snowstorm of the year curled up in bed with my mister bliss.

Words are very unnecessary … (Depeche Mode)

(Except we curled up naked in my bed and talked for hours.)

Heard it in grade 9 I think. I think it may have permanently scarred me and my dating life.

I wanted to love and be loved that way. Didn’t happen for a long time. If I got what I wanted, it was bad for me. If I got what I needed, it was bad for me.

I was not very self-aware. I couldn’t have sat down and given you a list of what was important to me. I didn’t feel important to anyone. So any little bit of attention got me hooked, like a fish yanked from the water and gasping for air.

What I needed to do was spend some good quality time alone and figure myself out.

And what I learned is this.

I want simple things, forehead kisses, being called ‘my girl’ or ‘good girl’ depending.
I have lived so many lifetimes in this one, I need someone who has done the same. Someone that can say ‘I used to do those things’, or I tried that’.

Belly laughs are paramount. I can do most of the rest myself.

‘When the soul is ready, its mate appears’.


I have had enough of magical, mystical, soul tethering and tearing love for a lifetime.

Gods and monsters can’t tell time and they don’t stay.

I tried loving wolves and I prefer my lumberjack.

I haven’t been writing lately. It’s probably only been a week but every time this happens it feels like missing limbs.

I did 2-12 hour days, a 14 split shift and an 11 hour work/tear down all in a row. Yesterday was spent sleeping til noon and procrastinating, then back to work.

I just reposted an article called ‘What Gods Do’, it remains one of my favorite things I have ever written. It flowed so beautifully. I said what I needed to say with eloquence and humility.

I fucked my share of gods and monsters, I admit it and I am proud.

Do fuckbois have some kind of internal timer that goes off every 150 days or so?

“Time to check the Sarah”
Does it take them that long to realize I’m gone?
Were they once normal boys who now have cyclical amnesia?
It’s been a “sup” fest in all my inboxes/life this week.

The grand army I amassed and released back into the world returneth.
Not in any semblance of formation, they are all fuckbois, they just do what they do when they do it.

Alas my darlings, there is no more Sarahland to conquer. I have become smitten in your absence by someone who stayed.

I have no idea what is going to happen with this one, but there is a massive lack of angst and a level of communication and comfort that is shiny and new.

I heard another song just after he left, Angela by the Lumineers.

I belong,

I believe

Home at last.




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