This is Your Reminder to Just Call Them

There are so many thoughts swirling in my mind.

It’s 11 pm on a Wednesday night and I just ended a call with one of my best friends. A close friend of hers was murdered either yesterday or this morning. The entire family was murdered, actually. It was incredibly shocking to hear that something like this could happen in a small town in Utah, but it did.

As she told me about the mother of the family (the family member she was closest to) I began to cry, too. She sounded amazing; selfless, young, strong… She sounded like the type of woman that you wanted to look up to. I imagine you’d admire her laugh and take note of her fashion sense. You would probably go up to her first at social events and absorb her words like you were hearing the most important words you’d ever hear. I imagine she was a beautiful daughter of God.

Her children died along with her, as well as her mother and her husband. My friend told me how she had just seen this family around Christmas and promised to text her. “It really makes you appreciate those around you before they’re gone”, she said.

10 days. In 10 days, you could never see someone you love again. It’s a frightening thought.

It made me think of other frightening thoughts, like resolving familial conflicts and coming clean about my mistakes. It scared me into living life more fully, because, we really don’t know when we’ll be gone or when our loved ones will be gone. It inspired me to write in this blog, which I’ve been procrastinating because, “I always have tomorrow.”

This conversation was both heartbreaking and sobering. I woke up a little bit inside. I woke up to reality but also to hope. I have hope for her family, whom I believe are in heaven resting from all woes and all care. They’re in a better place, and for this, I’m grateful. But I also woke up to reality. And reality is what I’ve been hiding from for a long time.

Mourning with Those that Mourn.

I tend to avoid connection because it feels heavy. A friend’s breakup feels heavy, trauma feels heavy… even a comforting hand feels heavy. I’ve avoided connection for multiple reasons- some justified, some not- but no reason was worthy of the isolation I put myself and others through.

Do you know what I realized while listening to my friend on the phone? I was getting a migraine because this hurt me, too. Not as much, but it hurt. And I cried, and I get migraines when I cry. A part of me wanted the pain to be over, to feel the relief a good night’s rest will prescribe. But then I realized:

If I am to mourn with those that mourn, I must also share their pain.

If that means sharing a migraine with my friend who’s mourning, I will share that migraine. If that means having one more sleepless night because my friend is having a sleepless night, I will share it. It’s been proven to me time and time again that life simply cannot be survived without connection, compassion, or a shared burden.

This phone call was sobering because I realized what I really should have been doing this whole time. I should have been calling my friends who live in all different parts of the world even if the time zone difference is a pain in the neck. I should have been hosting more movie nights even if no one comes. I should have been inviting old friends to karaoke or Just Dance parties or to dinner in fancy restaurants around the state. I should have been saying what I really wanted to say even if it wasn’t received well. I should have been appreciating those around me and myself before we’re all gone. I should have been mourning with those that mourn, whether it be publically or internally.

So, I decided to document some questions to ask myself that I’ll share with you:

  • How will you live stepping forward?
  • What will you change to see those around you- really see them?
  • And how will you fulfill your God-given purpose on earth and become something that is out-of-this-world fantastic?

Let me know your answers in the comments. And please, send prayers, good vibes, and love to my friend, the family aforementioned, and their community ❤️

Until next time,

-Diyana, 사랑-


Do You Think of Me?


Why is it so heartbreaking to be lonely?
I ponder whilst upholstery
Meets with me in a bus seat
On my way to buy laundry
Detergent. The kind my sister uses.

And it occurs to me,
(As it does at these worst times)
That it hurts having no one.
It hurts having had someone,
And intentionally pushing them away.

I've pushed a lot of people away.
But I did want them to stay,
Just, not stay and look at me
The way I look at myself.

So, now I'm lonely.
And I like it this way at times.
When a new show consumes
My nights and music fills
My days- I'm lonely but
Not completely alone.
I have my shows to see
And music to listen to.
And I'm whole for the time being

Diyana Love

Candy Umbrella


Pale water blankets my skin,
Then falls.
It blankets my tanning skin,
Then falls.
The coolness is a contrast
To the heat of the sun.
It hammers my head and is
Inescapable; warmth is
My eyes see white-
White light, white pool floor
White sun. White hot.
Summer is warmth and coolness
That I can't escape
And it feels like an umbrella.

Diyana Love

A mood.

Feb 27 2022

He grabs me by my collar,
Hands rough and unforgiving.
He pulls me close to him, bitter breath
And bitter expression.
He stares me down and says,
"You aren't enough, you're small.
You want what you want but
Can't accept it.
You're hooked on a dream
That shattered when you reached for it.
If you could will the bones within you
To fold in on themselves like an accordian, you would.
You'd do it in a moment.
And i'm just the messenger."

He lets go, his stale and sour breath
Lingering in the air between us.
I begin to weep because he's right
And I'm wrong. The heavy continues to
Be heavier. I can't escape his foul words.
I reach for help and crave light.
I catch glimpses like a fish underwater.
I crave light but it seems so far away
And so impossible.

I feel small because my problems must be, right?
I must be too much or not enough.
That's the chaotic balance I lured myself
Into when I began to listen to that man
With sunken eyes and foul breath.
I listened to him one too many times
And now I'm wrong and he's right.

Diyana Love

P.S. I’m published!!
Read my poem and others by many other talented poets in “Turning the Corner: Unity” by Eber & Wein Publishing, 2022 publication.