We often ignore the indifference of men and dive headfirst into their lives, filling all the empty space with a curiosity, an empathy, that isn’t shared.
Day-to-day life does a fairly good job of covering up the bigger picture, with its mundane moments building upon each other to create a thick tapestry of denial, or something like it.
It’s the curse that most mothers and daughters know well: how to take an overwhelming connection and employ it, misguidedly, as a weapon.
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.
He sent you a gif of Shia LaBoeuf crying and told you he’s going through a lot right now.
A list of things that are “not hot, not not, just meh.” Today’s roundup includes calling someone a “thought leader,” body brushing and Tyga.
I’m not at all in-tune with what my gut actually wants and craves, whether that be to indulge in something sweet or something more complex.
I’m afraid that going home will make his absence that much stronger, more biting than it’s already been. I’m afraid that seeing this same sadness on hundreds of faces, rather than five, will make it hurt that much more.
On the two year anniversary of this blog I can think only of my amazing dad, Craig Schiffer, who died unexpectedly this past Monday.