He spent thirty minutes trying to get parts of my anatomy I never learned the name of to release my left shoulder. Let it fall down, shift back. Slide into the place it used to reside. Before the motorcycle crash. Before I started leaning on it while studying, reading, writing. Before I forgot how to relax. Continue reading →
Mason. My partner, my counterpart, my constant inspiration.
My family. By biology, by marriage, by careful handpicking.
Cheese. Pretty much any kind of cheese.
Shelter. Never wondering how I’m going to stay warm or where I’m going to sleep.
Sobriety. Every single day I have under my belt and all the ones ahead of me. Continue reading →
He makes loving him easy. Makes it safe to let my guard down. In those soft, tender moments it becomes clear just how different he is—this love is—than the ones I used to frequent.
The things I was fed flavored the rest of me. Every relationship I’ve ever had bled into the next one. Old habits and expectations that never served me well stuck around, wreaking havoc. I catch myself applying old salt to fresh wounds. Getting nowhere. Continue reading →