Safe Place

When I was a little girl, I had an irrational fear that someone would shoot me through my bedroom window. I have no idea what precipitated this fear, some combination of movies and neighborhood violence and my always overactive imagination. But in my mind, this was something I needed to be deeply concerned with. And … Continue reading Safe Place

Move.

I know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that if I stop moving I'll fall apart.So, I don't.I work. I work more than any human should. I work when I don't need to. I work to a level that is not required and satisfy objectives that are not asked of me.And I clean. I vacuum … Continue reading Move.

Lucky

"Hey there. Mind if I sit next to you? I don't much get to sit next to pretty girls anymore."I look up into the smiling, friendly face of an older man with twinkling gray eyes deeply wrinkled at the corners."Of course. If for no other reason that I am a sucker for compliments from handsome … Continue reading Lucky

Outside Your Door

It's 2am and there's no good reason for anyone to be knocking on my door. Granted, I'm not asleep but I should be, as usual. And I'm not expecting anyone.My heart picks up tempo as I slip out of bed, quietly digging my toes into the carpet and padding across the apartment to my front door. I've … Continue reading Outside Your Door

Wake Up Alone

2007I'm crying before my fingers can find the alarm clock in the darkness.The tears are an every morning ritual, so I've at least gotten to the point that I can control them. I can't keep them from coming- there's too much to cry clean for that- but I've learned to cry them softly so that … Continue reading Wake Up Alone

The L Word

"Hey.""Hey."We look at each other, awkward in a way that we usually aren't. We aren't sure who should go first."You called.""I called."The truth is, I'd wrestled with it, turning my phone over and over in my hand like a sorcerer's stone. Debating. If I should call. Weighing what it means about me, who I am, … Continue reading The L Word

Roots

I am often consumed by the desire to lay waste to my life and start it over again. I don't mean some overly dramatic Eat, Pray, Love kinda reset. I don't see me setting fire to my world just to watch the flames. But sometimes in the morning, when I turn the key in the lock on … Continue reading Roots

Hunger

It feels like there's an invisible cord linking us. Each minute that slides by cranks the tension a bit tighter, pulling me toward him or him toward me, or both. I can't tell which anymore. But the distance between us, the minutes he spends not touching me feel like agony. I'm talking myself down off this … Continue reading Hunger