I guess people fall out of love like it’s nothing. One day they wake up and look at the person sleeping next to them…and all those feelings they once had are just gone. No reason, no explanation. The start of a new month, maybe, or the shedding of old skin, or perhaps a shift in the atmosphere. People lose love just as often as they lose their keys. It’s the easiest thing in the world.
A “Thinking of You” Card
To the mojito served with a tiny napkin and a paper straw while I’m sitting legs dangling on a stool. The pounding of the bass blocks out the “thank you” I tell the waiter.
To the YouTube videos my co-workers and I secretly watch when we’re supposed to be restocking or organizing or…something.
To the trashy TV shows my friends get ourselves into every Monday night, keeping us awake at an unreasonable hour and killing our brain cells a dozen at a time. And, of course, to the three-course meal we slap together with its own weekly theme and personality — an enticement, along with the good company, to watching bad TV.
To the warm, buttery bread at Not Your Average Joe’s and the parmesan-topped dipping oil that comes with it.
To the team that brightened the screen on my phone and took a handkerchief to my glasses; you help my running career burst with color and help me see my potential at every practice.
To the class of 2020, who went from having smiles when they thought about their last two months with classes and friends and senior activities, to being in tears, learning that they’ve already experienced those last two months.
To the dogs I’ve yet to meet and yet to pet.
To my favorite stores and everything in them — the shoes with wads of paper still tucked in, the soft shirts, the rainbow dresses, the packages of chocolates and the sparkly earrings.
To the party I wanted to throw in celebration of my new job, and all the friends who would come bearing gifts of alcohol and funny anecdotes and hugs.
To all the things that make life what it is — or, more accurately, what it was and what it will be…I miss you, I’m thinking of you, and I know we will meet again.
I know why the sky is blue, but not why I fell in love with the boy with sky blue eyes.
I know why a bird can fly, but not why some people leave and some people choose to stay.
I know why the ocean moves in waves, but not why my dreams drowned the day I couldn’t find the air to fight my panic attack.
I know how the earth came to be, but not why I came to be a writer and a runner.
I know the grammatical rules of the English language, but not how to explain how much I love some of the people who have planted themselves on my planet — the trees supplying my oxygen.
I know why 2 and 2 make 4, but not why I can’t figure out what I want to be when I grow up.
I know how a car starts and runs, but not which destination to plug into the GPS of my life.
I know why the body needs sugar and fat, but not why an eating disorder rampaged my life for years.
I know why phobias exist and why our bodies respond with fight or flight, but not what journey my fears and sadness are taking me on.
And I know why a glass will shatter if I drop it, but not why I pour myself into people who end up breaking my heart.
Sometimes we know what we know, sometimes we can find the answer, sometimes all we can do is yell into the abyss, “give me a reason why” and hope we get a response one day.
The purpose of my website is, first and foremost, to share my writing so we can all relate to one another. That is the reason why I write: to form human connection, to make this world a little closer, a little more empathetic, and a little more open. I love turning passing feelings and small instances of life into galaxies of people and oceans and stars. A big part of my writing is bringing awareness to mental health. I also encourage expressing emotion and using creation and love as an outlet for pain. Running is an important part of my life and therefore is often reflected in my work; I enjoy exploring the intersection between running and mental health. However, my goal is to make my writing a reflection of a wider society, so I create work that most will be able to understand.