Bear with Me.

Bear with me,

I carry the effects of my poor excuse for a memory. I may not remember everything but I always feel the pain in my body. It aches behind my eyes and in spots I cannot place. I try to sleep it off but it is with me when I awake. I wonder, what good is remembering the past if you fail to learn from your grief? How do you fight for something when you’ve begun to lose all belief? The mind plays tricks–looking for cracks to disprove what experience taught. Trust is the confident arrow aiming to break your fragile heart. For so long I fought against creating a life of my own. But I am a community, I am a building–A vacant chair in an empty home.

They said I don’t really need you.

What I need is understanding and a patience that most people have forgotten to treasure. What is wrong with doing it my way if my direction keeps us together? Maybe this room is not big enough, and this chair is too small. Maybe we are not meant to be a community after all. I do better when time passes and I have learned to play my part. We deny truth in favor of doing the right thing.

But what good is your pride, valor, or integrity if they all keep you away from me?

We tend to ask questions when we already know what we need.


Emphasis on Continually. (200 words)

Several bouts of loneliness later, I endeavored to stop trying. I realized I am stuck in my ways, and fitted with an intense stubbornness that will not acquiesce so easily. Maybe if we met 10 years ago you could have “saved me” from myself–as men so often claim to do when women are being unreasonable. But now–now, I am content to build my castle with the debris from every failed relationship behind me. I do not understand the concept of prince charming. And I have no reservation about taking care of my own responsibilities.

Most importantly, I do not want anything that does not want me.

What is mine however, falls under the wing of my intention. I am part lover, all-fighter and sometimes both roles demand emphasis. Love does not just exist when we are madly locked in a passionate embrace. It does not trifle with temporary.

Love says, “I woke up early to make you breakfast in preparation for your meeting”.
Love commands your attention when you forget why you are fighting.
Love says, “I choose YOU,” over other people, over my doubts, over this ugly mess we created.
Love is continually choosing US over EVERYTHING.

….Emphasis on continually.

Follow for Daily Content on:

Instagram – @jen.cosby
Twitter – @jen__cosby

See You There!

–Jen Cosby

You are Missing from Me.

As I draw further away from the negative reality of my past year–and come closer to the anniversary of our ending–I am hard pressed to examine and emote and release this anxiety that has already served its purpose for me. I suppose I just gave up when faced with the truth of my deception. I did not fight because I had nothing left to lose. Thought I was strong enough and wise enough to push past the initial defeats, but I will never forget you are missing from me.

I still try at times to make peace in my subconscious. My dreams are filled with road blocks and alternate routes that always lead back to you. Except, I spend most of my time jolted awake by the fact that I cannot change what God has told me is not now possible.

The hope is to give up the hurt you experience, and to focus your efforts on healing.

bloom, growth, healing, flowers, relationships, friendships, loss

Bloom with Intention

We all plant seeds that will one day take root and bear fruit. Whether it is good or bad fruit is determined by what we choose to leave. –Jen Cosby

Usually this would not matter to me. What mattered then is how my hurt manifested itself as a quietly ticking time bomb that without warning exploded on everyone I loved. Shrapnel broke down decades old foundations and opened up carefully concealed scars. This makes me human but also magnifies just how weak I really was. And just how weak I continue to be, when I try to forget you are missing from me.

Today, I walk through doors that I did not have to blow up in order to walk through. They open because they are mine and I did not have to convince myself that I was worthy. They open because I accepted my undeniable part in the mess I experienced and gave up praying God would bless the dysfunction.

I realize my pursuit of wellness may not mean restoration. My desire to be better may never be seen. But I promised myself that I would be honest when I am hurting. And the truth of the matter is you are missing from me.


P.S. As life continues to evolve I am realizing that I am posting less frequently on this site. My goal is to only provide “good” thought provoking content at all times. With my current schedule in mind, I will begin to follow a bi-monthly posting schedule.

Stay Socially Connected:

Instagram – @jen.cosby

Twitter – @jen__cosby

I look forward to connecting with you guys on these platforms!

-Jen Cosby

For The One Who Birthed Me. (excerpt)

I used to pick fights with
the parts of myself that
seemed to resemble you.

The idea of me that lived up
to your impossible expectations
and the lies I told so often,
they eventually became true.

The difficulty I have now comes
riddled with self doubt because
the one I relied upon did not
know how to meet me half way.

Captured by your adverse opinion,
when all feelings are fleeting.

I will miss you, yes–but I know now that
I am not responsible for your unhappiness.

I will not cut myself open
because you refuse to let me grow.

If Only.

You have a way with words that rush like rain but no one knows who made you this way.
I searched for the right answers, but all I knew is that I loved to be in love with you.

If only I could pretend none of this is happening.

I walk now towards valleys and forge my own path in a wilderness I was always meant to walk through. Breaking fellowship on every ground I attempted to place a root. Violently striking out against anyone who ever sided with you.

This is a chartered course but no one knows where the final destination will be. For now the coordinates are: me without you, you without me. And these jaded hearts do not heal like they used to. You cannot rebound with the next opposite or hop to another extreme.

After all, I am a vibrant winter and quiet spring–a host of mutable complexities.

Things change. What started as a walk in the park began to get hard. Yellow caution, now an unmistakable red light. You were a tiny star in my infinite galaxy. The one I used to build dreams around. Now I am awake and clumsy with suspicion. Taking the longest road back to reality.

If only I could pretend none of this is happening. 

I do not care that you are gone. I care that you deliberately dragged me along. I care that you pledged allegiance to us, while in the same breath planned your exodus. I care that my devastation at being deceived led me to fight for someone unworthy of me.

But now I force myself to get up. Tackle the voices in my head telling me I am not good enough. Repair the damage I introduced to my family. Find a way to absorb the cost.

If only I could pretend none of this is happening.

26. No Contact.


Hours go by without contact and she feels barren, incomplete. Like one of her vital organs is fatally hemorrhaging. She looks for something–anything to plug up the hole and numb the ache. But with no resources she is forced to experience the full brunt of the pain. She owns her intentional suffering. Facing all the hurt she brought to the table along with the additional burdens she received. She settles into a place of awareness. Bearing down, she begins to breathe deep.

Days go by without contact and she pauses to think: just how long will I spend dwelling on this debilitating history? It is one thing to be meticulous about healing, quite another to linger and fold under the weight. Because missing someone makes you feel heavy. It sits in the forefront of your mind. Absence holds you resentfully–in a cold and dark embrace. She wonders just how much more she can take.

Weeks go by without contact and she fights against what she knows to be true. She yearns to reconnect…understanding silence is a party of two. Quietly, she regains her sense of self. Seeing her heart replenish with restorative things. She invests in the idea that she is worthy of good care–and she pursues her happiness exclusively. Releasing her expectation of other people, she cultivates the ability to separate her thoughts. Replacing the negative loop with positive affirmations: I am good enough.

Months go by without contact and she never thought she would get to this place. Accepting what fell apart, moving forward, letting go of everything. She forgave herself for her mistakes. Forgave him for not being who she wanted, respect him for owning who he was. Now, she can envision him properly. Listen to those songs, watch old movies, go back to their favorite spots. Now, the past does not devastate her thoughts.

Years go by quickly.
Memories are forgotten and lost.
The pain she believed would last forever
is healed and completely gone. 

Get Your Hands Up

This is no extraordinary circumstance.

I have issues with my redirected position, but it is obvious I have one clear option now. It is sad it came down to this, but none of it is actually surprising. Sometimes, you know nothing more than what you believe. I believed I was committed to forever, but that “resilience” only came from me.

What did I know about hoping and praying and wholesome Christian dating?
I knew what I wanted. And I thought that was enough to carry me.
I was willing to do battle.
As long as it takes–Fight! until both sides could peacefully meet.

But it takes two to endlessly and hopelessly disagree.

What hurts is fighting for over a year and finding nothing ever got solved. Certain conflicts get pushed under a rug and you learn it is “better” to suppress than start a war. But it all built up to the point where you resent the very person, you promised to love.

I suppose it’s alright to change your mind.
Alright to not understand what unconditional means on this side of life.

But I’m not here about that.

What’s NOT okay is walking away. Running from actions and being passive about the mess you made. No, we are required to do much more than pretend nothing happened. We can’t stay here–at this crossroads trying to forget. It will take work to get back.

Back to our individual paths.
Past all that residue we carried on our backs.
Beyond the hurt we identified and used–
to excuse the reactive state of our minds.
Back to our God given images
of what a man and woman should be.

I hate that this was the lesson
I had to learn with you.

But I pray that it finally
leads us BOTH to truth.