An Open Letter to the Man I (Still) Love


It’s been over a year and a half since the last time we held hands. It’s not even the handholding that I miss most though. It’s not the interrupted conversation kisses, the lovemaking, or even the Thanksgivings up in Oregon with your family. It’s the fact that I lost my best friend. That’s not me idealizing anything – that’s just the truth.

The End of All that I Knew


I can still remember the first time he introduced himself to me. We shook hands – which seems absolutely ridiculous when I think of what we were and maybe still are to each other – and I could feel the static cling between us. I felt my lips part slightly when he repeated my name back to me.

Second Chances

Second Chances

The skyline twinkled under bouncing stars and showed off its glimmer of fluorescents, LEDs, and milky street lights where souls could find solace from even the darkness within. And then I was just there – upon your doorstep, red bricks, red fire hydrants – red with the passion of so many nights past.

What a Broken Heart Really Feels Like


My knees felt like they might buckle beneath me. I couldn’t run from the truth any longer: he had given everything he had. He had made me his all; I was his girl. And in true form, I was a grenade that self-detonated. And he was a casualty that fell among the wreckage.

The 80 Mile Drive

Mile One. What just happened? It feels a little surreal. A lot surreal, actually. I can still turn around. Get off at the next exit and make my way back to the apartment. But I’ve always been stubborn so I won’t don’t. Regret will set in a few miles later. I drive in silence. No […]