You Don’t Need Me

You don’t need me to tell you what loneliness feels like, How the yawning silent void can sound like the loudest roar, Or how the vast expanse of solitude can be crushing. You don’t need me to show you how it hurts to watch yourself grow irrelevant to the one who matters most, to reach for the family you’ve built as they slip away. You don’t need me to hold you, and run my fingers slowly along the map of your body, the constellations across your shoulders, the granite slopes of your thighs… You don’t need me to make hotel-crisp… View Post

The Things I Do Instead

Instead of spending lazy Sunday mornings with a Paul Simon soundtrack while he fries up eggs and I watch from the kitchen island thumbing through magazines, I run. I tear through the streets of my childhood stomping grounds listening to driving beats, willing myself to run towards that place in the future where there’s more pleasure than pain. Sometimes I think I’ve arrived. Sometimes I realize there’s a long way to go. Instead of stolen moments covered by iTunes playlists before a sweaty little boy clambers into bed between us, I now live a half-life with hours and hours to… View Post

Sliding Backwards

I’m listening to Patrick Watson and you are everywhere. In every space I try to fill. In every breath I try to draw. Here’s another thing that was uniquely mine that I must reclaim. This music belongs to me. But then there’s a warm summer night full of rare city stars, the smell of you so close, your hand sturdy in mine and the haunting melodies that only you know how to love like I do. How can you be gone? No amount of running, or drinking, or kissing can change the fact that we have ended. I believed us… View Post

If Animals Were Messengers

I moved all of my possessions out of my home on Saturday. A home I never wanted to leave. A home that all of the members of my former family remain in. I moved all of my possessions out of my home, into storage at my aunt’s house. Because I have no home to move those boxes to. This is a scenario that would never unfold in a traditional marriage. The courts would decide who would leave, or who would stay if either spouse wished to remain in the family home. My cousin and my brother helped me schlep a… View Post

The Process

Thanks for your patience. I’ve been wading through this complicated new reality, not always keeping my head up, and not always feeling like I wanted to share.  The grieving process is like that sometimes. The other morning I woke up at 8:00 am, took my canine companion for a walk in the rain, still wearing my pjs, unloaded boxes from the trunk of my car, fried some bacon, scrambled some eggs in the bacon fat, made coffee, sat down at the table near the window overlooking the garden and I felt good. A few nights ago, I cooked dinner for… View Post