Catherine Micqu

Dear Handsome (letter 2)

Anathema – better off dead (bad religion cover)

Dear Handsome,

I have been trying not to write this letter; I was trying to keep it all inside and dismiss it. But I can’t. How did this all blow up in my face? I still don’t understand. I can’t wrap my head around it. I can’t sleep; your words keep repeating in my head, and I keep repeating my own too.

You are offline, well then, I wish you a good night and sweet dreams.

And you took those innocent words as sarcasm or criticism or something negative.

We had been chatting for a long time that day and that night, and it was late. You didn’t respond anymore, and I thought it was cute that you fell asleep mid-chat. I was bubbly and upbeat and wished you good night because that is what I do. Never would I have expected what came next. First, you called me rude; then, you called me a sick psycho who hounded you with messages. Mere hours after you told me that it was okay and that I should not worry about these things. During the entire day and night, I had followed your lead. Never took the initiative, never sent the first message and always, always reassured you that you weren’t interrupting or disturbing my evening. I should have picked up on the weird mood, but I did not. Maybe you are right, and I am stupid. It all went to shit after that you threatened to kill yourself. You threatened to end your life, in not only one but several messages. How am I supposed to react to that? How am I supposed to recover from that? How? How am I not supposed to worry? I did the only thing I knew right then – I tried to make you understand and realise that there is a lot of beauty in this world and that you would leave a huge gap in many lives, if you left. I was shaking and crying all along. Panicked.

I am worried sick that I am to blame or that I caused you to do something stupid. You compared me to your ex, who manipulated you and who blackmailed you to the point where you gave up. I never did anything like that — quite the opposite. I supported you in everything; I encouraged you to be healthier when you said you wanted to quit drinking and smoking; I offered friendship and love. I was patient and understanding, all the fucking time. Because I understood – you had explained yourself very well. I was listening and heard what you said. I understood. I didn’t even mention that everything was always about you and that you didn’t even ask about me or my well-being. As if it didn’t even matter.

And maybe that’s just what happened? Maybe you don’t care, and I don’t matter. And I hate that thought. While I made sure to be respectful and understanding about your fears and phobias, you just kept using mine against me.

Truth be told, I cannot play that game anymore. I can’t. I am tired and exhausted. I am scared and alone.

You sent a message saying that you will be okay. I hope it is true. After that, I deleted your number and everything of yours I had on my phone. I am devastated. Hurt. Worried – very much so. But I am also disappointed. I am not even mad.

And as another silent tear slides down my cheek and soaks my pillow, I am wondering if I am even lovable. Maybe you are right, and I am a sick psycho. What if it is true?

Those two words are in the same category as you don’t matter, and I never cared about you. I won’t be able to recover from that. Broken. Another part of me in pieces.

I wish you well, dear Handsome. I really do. You deserve happiness and serenity. You deserve healing and light.

But I decided that I won’t be there to help you with that. There were too many insults and not enough empathy from you. It was not an easy decision, though. Not at all.

Goodbye, dear Handsome. Thank you for these amazing four months.

Goodnight, sleep tight.

A woman praised my book tonight. Very much so. And I drank it all up, because I deserve it. I am a good poet. Even if I forget that once in a while. ❤

Spotify – end of year

This is how my year sounded on @Spotify. Get your 2019 Wrapped #spotifywrapped×1920?si=qFlSd9rGTy2PtPJWDYWn6A&lang=en-us

I am not sure if this ‘wrapped’ is accurate. To be honest, I listened a lot more and, at least one artist in the top 5 is definitely not a top 5 artist for me. (hint: Bruce Springsteen). The top songs too… I was a bit surprised, to say the least.

Music is life. Music heals our minds.

Song of the day (Friday)

a-ha – crying in the rain

I love that song. Yes, it is cheesy, but I don’t care. It makes me feel all the feels.

I sold the first copy of Drowning in a Sea of Voices last night. Finally. 🙂 You know me, I doubt quite easily. What if I am not good enough? What if? What if? It all matters. To me, it does.

So… A HUGE thank you to Anonymous, who bought a copy of my poetry. ❤

Have a nice day.


Drowning in a Sea of Voices

Dear Friends,

Did you notice? I published a new poetry collection. I am proud of it, it is filled with emotive words and lines.

Look at Amazon (worldwide) and you can order your copy from there, or, order it through this blog.

I know you want it. 🙂

Drowning in a Sea of Voices by Catherine Tricarico

Enjoy these poems with a glass or mug of your favourite drink, light a candle and put on some soft music. Come with me on a journey through the mind of a romantic fool. ❤

A review would make me happy too. 🙂 See? I am easy to please.

Thank you,


Drowning in a Sea of Voices

This is the cover of the book. Yes, I put a picture of myself on the cover.

I admit, I used the cover designer from kdp (kindle direct publishing), and in my excitement, I forgot to save the real cover, I am left with a literal screenshot and a grainy thumbnail.

Don’t forget to pre-order your copy with me. I would really love to send Drowning in a Sea of Voices around the world.

Big excited and tired hugs,