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I still think about her from time to time, depends on the day. I still miss her, unlike I’ve missed anyone since losing my grandpa, like losing a vital piece of myself with only myself to blame. At the time, I didn’t comprehend my debilitating fear of intimacy, the story I told myself was that if I love someone I have no choice but to leave them because when I was ten I had no say in my family’s cross country move away from my grandpa who was the most important person in my life and everything I knew to…


Fiction Friday

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“I don’t know what went on between you and Ashley, but you really messed her up for a long time. She almost didn’t marry the guy. Yeah things are alright, he’s fine, but she’s not happy; he’s not you…” Eric says before I make the trip to visit him. “Just wanted you to know she’ll be at the party too.”

*****

“What are you going to do?” Ashley asks growing more upset and impatient, the quieter I got. “What?!? You don’t know? Oh, great now you don’t know! You just come back to change everything?!? And for what?!? Why!?! To…


Photo by D A V I D S O N L U N A on Unsplash

It’s Christmas Eve, his first with the family in six years. He’s welcomed back like the Prodigal Son, wrap him in hugs and kisses, remind him they love him unconditionally because for a few days, they can. He’s served a hot meal prepared with love and they eat together while Hallmark Christmas movies play in the living room. It’s louder than he’s used to, a house full of siblings and in-laws, cousins and all their kids. He’s nieces and nephews climb all over him and everything else they’ve been warned not to. Family can be overwhelming when you’re used to…


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“What are you writing about?”

“Are you talking to me?”

“Yeah, what you writing about?”

“What I always write about…”

“Well, what’s that?”

“About a relationship that never really was.”

“Why do you always write about that?”

“I write about what happens and that tends to happen.”

“And how’s it coming along?”

“The page was blank til you showed up.”

“How’s this one going to be different?”

“I’m writing it backwards. I read this book over the weekend where this veteran watches war movies in reverse. All the destruction, buildings and people are put back together, guns and planes take…


I’m a good guy, but I wasn’t a good boyfriend. Non-committal. No labels. Barely said a word about a relationship unless you asked. Try getting too close and I’d use anything as an excuse to run justifying it as she’s not the one for me, walk away unscathed. If you were dating a guy like me, I’d tell you to run, that you’re wasting your time. He’s not going to change unless he wants to and he probably doesn’t realize what he’s doing.

35 years, it’s taken me that long to really realize that I was the problem. Watching The…


Fiction Friday

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“I’m coming over.”

The late night text from her surprises me as much as it does realizing I’m in my bed at my parents’, back in Wyoming, back in Michigan, a place as distant in memory as it is in space.

We haven’t talked since the break up, not the first, but the second, we can’t be doing this anymore if we’re not going to be together conversation, real break up. She gave me plenty of chances to reconsider, but I stood by my decision believing it was for the best, for the both of us, for the time being…


Photo by Priscilla Du Preez on Unsplash

Five years ago, without a doubt, I would have told you Reagan was the one for me. We haven’t seen each other since the break up. It was as clean a break as you could ask for, we said our piece, it hurt, we understood things weren’t working anymore. Lord knows I tried, but you can’t force someone feel something they don’t; I want to be wanted too. I had peace as we went our separate ways. I still have love for her and wonder how she’s been, if she misses me, if she she’s happy, not as often as…


Photo by Wil Stewart on Unsplash

Back in January, he invited me to a housewarming party in mid-April at his bungalow. Last summer, he proudly crossed homeowner off his bucket list. The property was tucked into the trees with a few dotting the yard, an aged unpainted picket fence lined the front. The house itself was sea-foam green and quaint and the porch had the perfect amount of space for the hot tub of his dreams. …


So you want to be a yoga teacher? You’ve gotten stronger, more flexible, and feel better in general since you started practicing regularly? You’ve learned to listen to yourself and want to live life on your terms? You’ve met some inspiring teachers and love their instagram posts of yoga poses all over the place and you want to look beautiful too? Same. You want to cultivate a space for people to do some good for themselves? Cool. I get it. Maybe, just maybe, you selfishly want to control the music because it’s the closest you’ll ever get to being a…

Gilbert

I write to remember what I might forget and to understand things I don’t.

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