Writing from a coffee shop on April 23rd on a bleak, chilly day as a magazine editor in a New Jersey beach town. One sentence in and I’m noticing how my handwriting has deteriorated due to the computer. I am 24-years-old, a college graduate from a small-town University in Kentucky, though I grew up just an hour from the coast in which I write from, in the fifth biggest city in the country, the original capital city and the birthplace of liberty and American democracy.

I studied journalism, knowing I had a love for writing both creatively and informatively. I had a romantic experience with the noble idea of upholding the Fourth Estate, writing to inform the masses with a duty to hold the powers-that-be accountable. I soon realized that it was a dream of olden days and is now, for the most part, owned and operated by a corporate, political agenda, whether that be right or left-wing. I make $25,000 a year, rent a $700 a month one bedroom cozy apartment five blocks from the beach and boardwalk, one from the Great Egg Harbor bay. I haven’t written with a pen in ages it seems, my handwriting is continuously frustrating me as I go on…  Continue reading “Writing With A Pen” »

“Each affects the other, and the other affects the next, and the world is full of stories, but the stories are all one” – Mitch Albom “The Five People You Meet In Heaven”

I never felt so glad to be let-down. Had life given me what I so wanted, I wouldn’t be where I am now. What we want isn’t always what we need or what’s best for us, even if we believe wholeheartedly that it must be. When things don’t work out, it’s so easy to sulk in disappointment, to dwell on “unhappy circumstances” instead of looking ahead to a future moment of understanding where we will be glad we didn’t get what we wanted. It’s hard to imagine such a moment could even exist, but then, somehow, at the right time, it just does. Continue reading “Retrospect” »

The closest I’ve ever been to you was the day I found the note that you must have left for me. It was a couple of years ago, I came across it at just the right time, face up, on a Washington, D.C. street, spotted by only me and no one else, a small message scrawled by what I’d like to believe was your very hands.

We happened to almost cross paths but must have just missed each other that day. Nevertheless, I have held onto your note ever since.

Despite being made fun of for my overly romantic imagination, I know you will be exactly the one to appreciate and understand it as no one else has. I still don’t know what you look like, where you’re from or how we will finally meet, but to think we must have almost crossed paths at one point is pretty amazing, at least I’d like to think.

Sometimes you have to be apart from the people you love, but that doesn’t make you love them any less. Sometimes you love them more, much more than you could have ever known and wouldn’t have known otherwise. During our time apart I have grown to appreciate you more than ever and have devised epic plans and trips and restaurants to take you to, cities to visit, playlists to be sung in the car during our road-trips…

When I find myself missing you or doubting you and longing for our future together when I can finally smother you with love, I just take out your note that you must have left for me and hold it in my hand, remembering the day I was the closest I’ve ever been to you, so far. You’re worth it, too. You always have been<3

“Her infinite variety, she makes hungry where most she satisfies” – Antony & Cleopatra.