Hey Lou Writes

The Grey Matters

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The Only Promise I Will Ever Promise

The Only Promise I Will Ever Promise

By Melinda Wilder

If you do anything

For long enough


It will become normal

I promise

You won’t feel that your bed

Is half empty


I promise

You won’t miss breakfast

On the floor

For long

I promise

The sound of your own footsteps

Won’t echo down the hallway

For eternity

I promise

You’ll learn all the whiskeys

To swirl them on your tongue

And taste honey

I promise

Touch won’t be a trap

But an oasis of beauty

And freedom

You’ll be forgotten by others

Yet your presence will grow

As you remember yourself


Today, Hey Lou Writes is 3 years old.

To anyone who’s stumbled upon these words… thank you.

Here’s one of the first photos I ever posted on Hey Lou. <3

new writer, short stories, twins

my twin!




Home Sweet Home: and where is that again?

Yesterday a good friend asked me if I felt like Prescott was home yet. It’s been ohhh… almost five months now since I moved to the midwest and the question left me with a lot to think about. After all:

“Home” in my phone is my parent’s house.

“Back home” in conversation is Albuquerque.

“Home” in everyday conversation is my duplex in Prescott.

“Home” when I’m feeling extra emotional is wherever Meredith happens to be.

“Home” when I say, “I just want a place to call home,” is something that does not exist yet. (Maybe it’s anywhere from which you can see the big dipper.)

There really isn’t a great answer- at least not right now. I immediately thought of a line from one of my favorite movies, French Kiss.

Kate: “…No matter what I might seem like tonight, it’s still the same old me from yesterday you’ll wind up with tomorrow. The same old me, who wants the home and the family, who wants to plant some roots and see them grow.”

Charlie: “You want to be a farmer?”

My roots were uplifted and I think they’re trying to get back into some soil. Roots can only last so long up in the open air. I’m doing my best to water them and nourish them, but it takes time. It takes the right place and the right moment. Sometimes it’s the stems that are stretching, while the roots stay firmly in place.

This is a lot of whimsical stuff I’m tossing around left and right. Sorry, but not sorry about that. It’s just that, I’m content with being anything but content. I’m okay with not being sure. I’ve accepted the mystery.

But every once in a while, if I’m really honest, I miss knowing. Or at the very least, I miss feeling like I knew… where I was headed, where I belonged and who would be there when I got home.

Here’s to waiting, patience, and the frustrating joy it is to live life, one absurd day at a time.

hatLou (the nomad)

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The One Thing I Can Count On (and how dating is like a watermelon)

“There is no time like the present to say what you’ve always wanted to say, and to do what you’ve only thought was possible later on. Later isn’t coming. It’s now. Now is the time to share your heart, the time to tell your story, the time to build other women up instead of tearing them down. Now is the time to connect, and grow, and be OK with where you are.”

-Rachel LeBeau, Heart Magazine

Welp! We made it through June. Collective pats on the back… all around.

For some reason or another, June was the month to get through for me. It was one of the most challenging (physically and mentally) months I’ve been through yet. I came out alive, stronger, feeling great, and overall healthy and content. It feels good to get through a challenge, doesn’t it?! I wish it was easy to remember that when the challenge is occurring. It’s hard to know what or who to rely on when the tears come.

The silver lining of this particularly challenging time? It had nothing to do with dating or a romantic relationship. It had to do with my every day single life- one that I’m proud to be living. 

train tracks

(Cue photo of me by the train tracks… the ultimate symbol of life changing and heading in new directions.)

I already knew this, but I think we could all use the reminder: The only thing we can really count on in this life is change. 

Change is the magic word. Things change every day, every moment, and no two seconds are the same.

“But I know that I can always count on my parents, that’ll never change.” “My spouse is the best!” “My dog is happy to greet me every single day.” “I just got tenure- looks like my job won’t be changing.” 

I can hear these possible responses to what I’m writing today. And yes, these are all very great things in this life. But can those change? Yes. Will those things change? It’s almost a 100% certainty that they will. Eventually.

Therefore! Let’s do what Rachel suggests. Let’s say what we want to say, live out our dreams, share our stories and ultimately build one another up. I believe that change is a mostly good thing. Hindsight is, afterall, 20/20.


And now: a tidbit/small rant on dating. 

On the 4th of July I did a few things I’ve never done before.

1. I jumped into a pool with all of my clothes on, stayed floating under the water for a few minutes, and said the same mantra over and over again. (the mantra, I shall not repeat on this blog.)

2. I had a bootlegger.

bootlegger = a wonderful drink with gin

bootlegger = a wonderful drink with gin

3. I compared dating to a watermelon. Malaby (above) was there. Maybe the comparison was a little harsh, but I sort of went on this verbal rant and felt like a semi-genius for a few minutes of that day.

“You guys, I just figured something out. Dating is JUST LIKE a watermelon. You know, it’s super exciting to pick out the perfect one. There’s tons of potential inside, you feel as if you chose the best one in the pile… it’s sure to be juicy and tasty and satisfying. Sometimes you open one up and find out it’s a dud right away. But even if you get one that is crisper and sweeter than all the rest, well, you cut yourself that first piece and yeah, it’s awesome. You might even enjoy some the next day. But eventually…. the plastic wrap doesn’t really stay where you want it. The shelf in your fridge gets sticky and messy. You are so sick of it taking up all the space that you realize you don’t even want it anymore.

It becomes something you have to deal with. Like, get rid of deal with.

Aaaaand, it smells really bad when it’s in the trash or compost pile. It just does.”

Okay, okay, okay. I’m mostly joking. The new “no longer jaded” version of myself doesn’t actually believe this to be 100% true, but I think that when the world of being single gets frustrating, this is a perfect analogy. Right now, I’m loving the fact that I don’t have to “deal” with anything, in the negative sense of the word. I’m still friends with quite a few people I’ve dated and I wouldn’t call those folks a watermelon in a million years. Promise. It did make a few girls laugh, which made the whole sort-of-depressing comparison worth it.

4. I didn’t see a full firework. I saw one, through a tree. However, the whole town sounded like a rolling thunderous battle ground.

5. I was in Prescott. This has only been a four month long adventure so far, but it feels like it’s been at least a year.

Wild how the time flies!

Here’s to change, lifting one another up, and to that big juicy watermelon I hope you enjoyed on the 4th of July.