Hello all, I'm RosalinOdessa Orabella, most people call me Rose, but I prefer the name "Dessy" because it sounds like "Nessy."
Welcome to a little slice of my life.
This was supposed to be an art blog (and hopefully the art part will recommence soon), but it has turned into one of prose as of late.
Adventures, love, laughter, craziness and little moments of sublimity. A true glimpse and reflection of and into my life as an adult with a child’s heart.
Come journey along with me.

It’s always funny when you come into my life uninvited.
It hurts so much, yet the pain is so calming.


I honestly cannot fathom why it is that I could miss you this much; I barely even knew you.
I guess it was the sparkle in your eyes, the alluring sense of danger. I liked your imperfections and the giggle you made when I gave you a hard time.
I liked the way you’d hold my hand in the car and look over at me to laugh when I was enjoying a song.
I miss the spontaneity and the hundreds of overdone kisses, the way you’d lift me up and refuse to put me down.
I miss the way you’d hold me close and tight, being safe.
I just wanted you to open up more, to be more than a rich white boy, to continue on with your complexities and impress me with your being; I just wanted you to keep proving me wrong- was that too much to ask for?


It is not because I am without you, but because I am with myself.
It feels as if I force myself into this loneliness and sadness.

I cannot escape the thoughts, all I want is to feel joy.
The type of hope that I get from a glance into your eyes,
The excitement of a kiss, misadventure- what are we doing next?
The comfort of your arms, your safe embrace.

And yet, with you I am still alone.
Because I do not know you, only small glimpses of what you have shown me and allowed me to view.
I do not know your person, but only the sensations that you create in me that surely cannot be you, if only small parts.

And yet I still want it. The sensation.
One more day; maybe I can crack the code and finally get you to speak.

They ask if things are euphemisms.
There we were, one night. Alone.
Water boiling along with my desires.
Only things that happen in the movies, a perfect moment. You wisper, I meet your glittering eyes.
Moments we regret never taking the chance.

Moments lost to the past.

I just want to see your face again.

The sparkle in your eyes, so alluring. Daring, even.
And your lips, soft nectar kisses like bees pollinating.
Your smile, the dream so inciting, you never awake.

And to hear your laugh, the childish sound, a comfort to my soul.
While your arms are about me.

I am safe again.


At night is to see vulnerability.
Experience the imperfection.

A life so simple, yet so complex.
Without façade, we breathe.

It’s an amazing thing, seeing someone so put together.
We all pretend to be these perfect creatures.

The world will never view us outside of this state if only at home.
And here, when we are no longer entertaining ourselves and our guests, the truth arises.
We take down our hair, we take off our best clothes, we take off our fake smiles.

We become nothing to the world, insignificant imperfections.

And I got to see you.
An imperfection.
So insignificant to the rest of the world, but an enigma to me.

And there you stood, smiling, breaking every misconception and preconceived notion that I had been creating. It was beautiful.
I think sometimes you try so hard to make people like you, to meet everyone’s expectations.
You’re trying so terribly to put off this front of being this person when in reality you are so many people combined into one.
I am amazed by this complexity I did not expect to discover.
And the night, it brought out the truth.

The stars always glitter in the eyes of imperfect men.

Growing up is the scariest action one does not consciously make.


The fact that it has been months and I still miss the way you play with my hair or the way you look at me and the way your heart beats so quickly when you hold me tight.
I wish I wasn’t still in love with you.
I just want you out of my life.


You brought me cookies, I’m not entirely sure if it was to win brownie points, out of boredom or genuine interest.
You took time out of your lazy day off to labor and produce edible delights.
And I’m still just unsure.
Maybe I am reading too much into this.

But we talked and we flirted and generally got along quite smashingly.
Perhaps my mind warped the moments to seem as if you took true interest. Misleading me from seeing what I had seen prior. Did I see what I wanted to see?

But I genuinely felt as if you did like me beyond my looks.
For my blunt nature and sassy comebacks.
As if you took interest beyond the fact that I was a woman.
You saw me for my charm and intelligence.
I wasn’t just a random hook up, a quick and ditch.

But again, you never stated that you felt these ways.
Only others. Those were clear.

And you said I am hard to read…

I could never quite make out your intentions.
I called you a creep and pushed you away, being difficult as I am.
I’ve liked you for a bit now and I just don’t know what your aims are.

I know you are too devious for me.

But I kissed you anyway.


It’s been months and not a day goes by without me thinking of you.
I understand loss and I understand your position because I am still living it. Every day.
My father died one year ago today after being taken off life support.
Death is not a choice, it is a destination.
Destruction is the path it takes and the shock waves are still felt miles down the road.
It is ever looming as we all try to wrap up financial affairs and other such pieces to the puzzle.
Death is a casket that remains unclosed for a while and unburied a while longer.
Regardless of the time or circumstance, it is always in the back of your mind that someone you once knew is no longer.
Perhaps this is a positive thing, making every memory more and more fond and happier. Moments that last in our minds like home video recordings only we could produce on the screen of our minds. We are able to see things as we wish for them to be seen. Death allows a freedom of interpretation unmatched in reality as we may see those who have passed in a better light.
With death comes solitude, forgiveness and a pride from knowing someone.
Death is a mere reflection of all of the things we have been taught by the individuals in our lives.

Sometimes you don’t need to see it so negatively.
Sometimes it is better to be the wave than the rock. The rock wears down too quickly.

Think about it.

I had a dream about you this morning.
It was so good to see you, I kept sleeping just for it to continue.
I miss you terribly.
I’m so glad I got to see you again.