Pain Tolerance

“So, I’m in the chair. And first it’s this needle. And generally I am not afraid of needles, but it’s this giant fucking needle. And if you’ve ever been stabbed repeatedly in the roof of your mouth with a really big fucking needle, I cannot unrecommend it enough.” I’m really fucking funny. And I’m telling … Continue reading Pain Tolerance

Shadow Kingdom

We fall in love in the wee hours. When darkness makes us feel less exposed in our vulnerabilities and laying ourselves bare feels like release. While the rest of the world lies quiet, we build a world in the shadows. The earth is whispered confidences, the sky a constellation of secrets and fantasies shared in … Continue reading Shadow Kingdom

Quit

“I dunno. I wish you quit more.” We’re somewhere around the thirty-minute mark of this chat and I wasn’t expecting it to escalate so quickly. “What do you mean?” “I mean, you don’t quit things. And I love that about you. I know that you’d do anything for me and by extension for my wife … Continue reading Quit

Spark

“Did I make it?” Without looking at the clock I know it is precisely 11:59pm on the dot. Years ago- when we were happier- he’d decided that he wanted to be the last person to tell me happy birthday every year, ostensibly because it would mean we were together to close out the day. I’d … Continue reading Spark

Gardening

Your heart can’t take this. It’s true, yours is a heart that has persevered. That has gone round after round and still beats steady, true. But it is not unscathed. And your heart can’t take this. You try. Because it’s what you do.  You rally. You survive. You endure.  You break free and you flee, … Continue reading Gardening

Flee

I’m spiraling the entire drive home. What’s usually my favorite way to think through things- a quiet drive by myself- feels like a tiny, rolling prison. The music is too loud. The road is too bumpy. There’s traffic when there shouldn’t be any. I’m fidgety and agitated. I talk to myself out loud, try to … Continue reading Flee

Ghost Stories

You can’t help but rush in the city. There’s no such thing as a leisurely pace. And even I- possessor of the world’s most casual saunter- find myself marching double time, weaving around tourists and strollers and slow people urgently going absolutely nowhere, just like everyone else. Somewhere around my 10th block, he catches my … Continue reading Ghost Stories