Sometimes it’s very difficult to deal with life’s unanswered questions.
In most cases, any more-than-friendly vibes are very low on the totem pole, like some inevitable result of biology that you can’t totally shake, but that you’re not trying to act on, either.
On mining the everyday, the outwardly mundane, and even the supposedly-corny for glimmers of greatness and excitement.
It’s the curse that most mothers and daughters know well: how to take an overwhelming connection and employ it, misguidedly, as a weapon.
Though they were strikingly different in some ways, Jonathan’s presence is still very much my Dad’s.
A Lemonade-inspired note on fuckboys in gentleman’s clothing.
We are what we create rings true, and thus discounts whether it actually is.
Every time a family event looms on the horizon, I’m forced into mental gymnastics: how to enjoy myself without pushing too many buttons of self-loathing.
As time has passed, so has my willingness to confront what’s been taken from us.