“Do you want to write again?” he asked, shifting in a creaking seat, tapping a pen against the desk.

“Yes. But I’m finding it hard,” I replied. “I no longer write the way I used to. My heart was different then.”

“So what’s changed about your writing?”

For awhile I stared blankly, thinking about the hundreds of physical pages I had written on almost every day for the past several years. Journal upon journal of scrawled rambling depth, emotion, fear,  joy, and sadness; sentences riddled with epiphany and revelation while my blog collected dust at a dormant domain on the web. Continue reading “Signs” »

A Better Ending

I can’t wait for the day when, with no hesitation or reluctance, a woman at long last, chooses me. Fully and completely. Picks me and decides to stick with me, choosing and wanting to take on life together. But “someday” seems like it slips further away from me every day. On Monday I’ll be 28. And my track record of slow, selective pursuits and twice choosing to go “all in” and give of myself in love has left me in ruins.  Continue reading “A Better Ending” »