No matter what grief or loss takes place, most of life flows on all around us, as though nothing's changed. At some point in our sorrow, we each make a choice to sink or swim. There's no alternative.
Take this. When you’re ready, I want to put it on your finger. I want you to meet my son. I want you to let me bring you into my world – because I need you there. The media crap is just PR. Piece of c...
Then she told me her name, which I forgot immediately, and launched into a monologue of enmity concerning the girl who'd bumped her. I didn't know either of them, and I couldn't have cared less about...
There's something I never told you about that decision I made four years ago...I've never felt a middle ground between acceptance and remorse. Every day for the last four years, it's been one or the o...
Watching her made my heart ache, as if that organ had become linked to her emotional state, rather than targeting its primary task—keeping me alive.
Alarmed, I realized what my visceral reaction implied: jealousy. Over a guy I barely knew, with whom I’d exchanged more saliva than sentences.
As logical as she is, she makes me feel reckless. I'm heedless of consequences. My plans and targets and goals and common sense go out the window in the face of what she makes me want. She scares the...
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