It’s an odd feeling. The first moment you forget they exist.
It comes a few days after you pull yourself off the floor. After you’ve cried what feels like every last tear. You’re sitting on the couch, staring off at the clouds peppering the sky. Or you’re in the car pulling up to a stop light. And boom.
You think about them and it triggers this crippling, painful feeling. You burn from the inside, as your heart begins to race against your skin. You bring your hand to your throat, clench your eyes shut and remind yourself to breath. It…
Rain is one of those things I take for granted. It’s water falling from the sky. Most of the time it’s a nuisance, making everything around you cold and damp, or warm and moist. It seeps into your clothes, creates puddles at your front door, and makes it impossible to have a good — or even decent — hair day.
When it rains, dogs start to smell, trash cans get heavy, and grocery shopping becomes a daunting task.
But then there are moments — when you’re inside your house looking out at a rainy sky — that cause you to…
Last night I saw a black bear for the first time in the wild. Had to have been the size of a large Shepard. Maybe a Great Dane. It devoured the previous tenant’s trash like it was nothing. Ripping apart the bags without a care in the world. Ate pancake mix and frozen vegetables.
Theres something about seeing a wild carnivores animal that puts you on edge. High alert for another chance encounter. The possibility that it will mosey it’s way around the corner and onto the deck right toward you. …
I don’t remember anything up until the moment we started to fall. As in, I don’t even remember why we started falling. It was as if we just shifted and we were no longer on the road. We were floating. Over trees, houses, as if we had taken flight. I remember feeling as if we were suspended, untouchable, until we hit the top of a house. But my mother’s Jeep didn’t shift, didn’t rotate. It just continued its decent on a somewhat downward angle. We looked at each other, but no words filled the space between us. …
Isn’t it weird how the only emotion you can be in, is love.
You can’t be in happy, or in mad, or in terrified.
You can only be in love.
Like it was something you could actually be inside of.
Like it was something you could drown in.
That it’s so deep you can’t be anything but in it.
Imagine if you could be in hate.
Though it’s the opposite of love, I would imagine it would be more intense.
The overwhelming quality of love but amplified.
I don’t think we, as humans, could feel that deeply.
Which makes me think…
I don’t believe in love at first sight. I don’t believe that someone somewhere can read the stars and decide your fate. I don’t believe your life is destine for anything. I don’t believe there is someone watching over each of the 7.78 billion people on this planet. I don’t believe any one person knows what’s best for us. I don’t believe we are the sum of our parts. I don’t believe in aliens. And I don’t believe in going places we don’t belong.
But I have seen two people stand side by side as if they were created for…
Or maybe it was Thailand. Or a mash up of the two. It’s hard to pinpoint places in dreams, never one hundred percent sure where you are. When you are. Who you are.
It started in the middle of the ocean, the water calm and clear. So clear that you could see the ocean floor, the soft sand that settled at the bottom.
Soft and slow, but with purpose. The wave pushed us to shore faster than the boat could have and just before we hit the rocks the ocean split, like Moses parted the sea, in complete silence. …
open the edits your editor sent to you, in August, six months later
read the notes in the margins
close your manuscript
open up instagram and scroll through your recommended posts
jump over to your boyfriend feed, and scroll through, beginning to end
open your twitter and scroll through your previous tweets
revisiting an essay you never finished
get up and get a snack
sit back down at desk, pile bills and statements for easy sorting later
reopen your manuscript and start rereading chapter one
note how many grammatical errors you made in the first 12 pages
close your manuscript…
I spend the remainder of the week in my bed, under the sheets where we used to spend most of our time. I let my phone die two days ago, not caring if I talk to anybody. I lay on my back staring up at the ceiling, but all I think about is the time you pointed out the blue paint blob in the corner. I roll to face the wall, and I remember the times you pushed me up against it.
“This is not me,” I repeat into my pillow but it’s no use. Every time I try to…
I’ve been in a lot of situations where I’m not quite someones girlfriend, and they’re not quite my boyfriend, but we’ve agreed not to sleep with any one else. A lot of situations that I knew wouldn’t lead to anything. Where we would share hours together instead of days. Text for moments, instead of hours. So when he came along, I was excited.
He was interesting. He picked up the phone and talked to me for hours. He planned elaborate dates that fit our new social landscape, and filled the spare moments with gifs and random facts. He texted me…
essays + stories (sometimes just thoughts) about life, love and growth from my prospective. author of ‘chasing something’ (can be found on amazon).