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Brooke Ilene Snyder

Sales Development Associate/Writer

Hello friends! I am originally from a small town in Massachusetts and have been living in CT for over a year with my fiancé. A bit about me: I am a spirited and sassy 27 year old recently engaged vegetarian part time grad student dog loving aspiring writer who enjoys “good talks” and people...

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An Old Journal Entry

Letting Go – two simple words that hold so much weight.

I struggle with this concept. It’s the card I repeatedly pick when my sister, cousins and I get together to drink wine and play “Mirror Cards.” Try it sometime, it’s a good time!

Tonight I came across an old, and I mean OLD, journal entry that struck me. The entry made me laugh (because its ridiculous how serious I am in writing this, but at the time I was “in the thick of it”) I sounded so young...yet so set in my ways. Reading this entry brought me back to the time in my life where I wanted answers so badly. Not much has changed, except my wish came true. It just took a lot of positive thinking, prayer, and patience. The last one is still tricky...but I learned a lot in the process.

Enjoy!

New year’s resolutions are just around the corner. So this is my will to the past.

Steve,

I leave you my first best kiss outside Cedar Hall. 19 and wanting love so badly. Your Nike sweatshirt, white Tempo with the stained red seats, New Hampshire with your boring parents. You can have your goofy nature. You lack seeing what you had. Special thanks to Steve for helping me move on to

Jason.

Bittersweet memories of your warm embrace, red hat and all those nights at Roger Williams. Those were some of the best nights of my life, sweet heart. Movies and dinner, drunk and dancing. Wearing your clothes to class. Skipping class to “take naps.” Hearing the words I love you for the first time and feeling it back. You introduced me to love and loss. You gave me a best friend and forced me to meet my enemy. You taught me trust and you lied. Cheated. Punched me in the stomach because I threw a ball at you while we were playing catch. You were who I thought I wanted.

Oh Marco,

your name has more to it than you ever will as a person. Your hair, your hair gel, your inability to think before you speak, your car, your baseball, your hair. I leave you your bed, posters of Tupac. High school lasted a lot longer than it should have, my hun bun. You gave me short lived happiness. I leave you your gym membership and some money to buy another one. I leave you an empty future because yours is looking awfully gray, like your stupid fleece. I leave you your loving family and things to do on weekends. Planning doesn’t mean doing. You can have your false promises, letters, cards, text messages and all those times you left me feeling so let down inside because you couldn’t give me what I need. Your porch in the rain. Cheers to your protein shakes. Buy some more clean sneakers and get a new hair cut. I leave you all the 18 year old girls you could ever imagine. I leave you a cash register and some more cologne. I leave you minutes on my cell phone wasted. I leave you 2 years in my life, my energy, my focus, my heart tucked deep inside the bottle I gave you last Valentine’s Day. Wasted. I leave you the next year with questions unanswered, with memories of someone who cared for you. I leave you trips and those never taken. Who dates from their bedroom? Violent video games and racist jokes. I leave you all the checks you never paid for, and the doors you never opened and the very last crumb on my plate. I leave you behind – at the airport where you picked me up. The candles in the fire have burnt out. I leave you with nothing because that is what you are.

The “funny” thing about this story is that I said goodbye to Marco on June 7th

June 7th 2004 was certainly a moment in time. I left Boston and moved to Florida with my family. I told the universe that I was DONE with guys and that I would focus on my career. I let go.

Started a new job on June 14th at a radio station...and came across this shy, teddy bear of a guy. He was 26, from Dallas, Texas. Drove a F-150 pick up truck and didn’t care about how squeaky clean it looked. He was a former football player who almost went pro, but suffered from having two knee surgeries and decided on dream #2 – to be on the radio. Talk to him about a six pack? He would laugh and say “I drank a lot of those in college.” His dad died when he was 22 and he went through an awakening...it brought him to Florida.  

There he was, waiting. Marco had called me a few weeks into being in Florida, but I couldn’t talk because I was walking into my boyfriend’s apartment.

A special thanks to my old boyfriends for teaching me about myself – what I want, and what I deserve. And here’s to always believing in true love, soulmate love, because it really does exist.