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


Purple Hearts.

art, friendship, watercolor, purpleDecades before I failed to be an honorable person I had a best friend who deserved better than me. She was the type of girl who spoke her mind and loved everyone she allowed into her life intentionally. If any person set out to tell her what she could not do, she was determined to prove them wrong. She was the first of a few brave lady warriors I came to appreciate and know. The female warrior does not stand for disrespect or take bad behavior with her tongue in cheek. She calls you out. Her fierce power requires you take ownership of your faults. She will look for a reason to save you even after you have let her down. If you are lucky–if you have been the worst version of yourself and she still loves you, count this as the ultimate blessing. She knows you are not perfect that you can be a jacked up human being. She will attempt to appeal to your humanity. She will pray for your freedom from damaging perspectives and debilitating beliefs. She will never stop fighting for what she believes. She is an unstoppable force capable of impossible feats. Like, extending an olive branch to a friend she does not even need.

I just hope I am worthy.


Hard hearts have explanations for everything they do.
They speak with pause and draw borders around them.
They do not know openness.
They harden at the sign of hopefulness.

I may have a lot I want to say but I cannot effectively communicate with all this junk in my chest.
It’s like singing with bronchitis. Your voice comes out hoarse, your song–useless.
I cannot hear beyond my feelings.
I operate from my broken place.
Isn’t it so much easier this way?
To continue walking away instead of making a change?

Hard hearts do not want different–they prefer the comfort of their cell.
I mean shell.
That hard exterior a lot of us know so well.
Because it’s easier to step back, dig in deep with your wounds.
And refuse to let anybody get close to you.

Like a porcupine–you prick.
You throw jabs and radiate defensiveness.
Still singing your tenuous song. Hapless and boastful.
Empty and long.

This position keeps you guarded just enough to ensure you never have to move.
“He who sets the pace, controls the fight.” That is all you know how to do, right?

But we are much less fighters than we are battered and bruised–
Victims of misinterpretation.
Carriers of insubordination.
Pursuers of retaliation.

I should have just apologized for hurting you.

Untreated wounds become infections and spread to the latter parts of you.
Like cancer, destroying health.
Like conflict, dividing unity.
Like silence, deprives of peace.

To soften is to burden my heart with the pure unadulterated truth.

I should have just apologized, I was wrong for hurting you.